#since she dragged them on the ghost hunting trip where they disappeared.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

(first sentence meme)

Now he wasn't saying the place was haunted, but he definitely wasn't not saying it, either.

(fandom and character/au of choice!)

(y'know it's been a minute since i did anything msa... and per usual i'm absolute dogshit at sticking to that sentence limit. honestly i forgot it even existed this time) (src - still open!)

It wasn't just the age—though it was old—but old places weren't inherently haunted, in Arthur's opinion. Sure, every place tended to acquire a sort of... flavor, over time, as they were lived in, but sometimes that vibe was calm. Peaceful.

This place was—not. It was not that, even if Vivi apparently couldn't feel it. It had an almost oppressive air of anger to it, low and simmering, like the old walls were glaring daggers down at them. And it felt... there was this nagging in the back of his head, like something he was forgetting that he should have remembered. Something important about this place. That meant something.

Per usual, though, his vocal complaints were being ignored—until they came to a bigger room. It might have been some kind of theater, once, or a performance hall, or—

Any speculation was cut short when the centerpiece of the room—sparked, immediately making everything else a distantly secondary concern. That feeling of hatred spiked with it, too, sending his heart rate instantly through the roof—and seriously, if Vivi thought he was still making shit up now—

"You've got a lot of nerve, K," a voice echoed around the vast room, "waltzing back in here like nothing's wrong."

The fire—the fire that radiated an entire spectrum of warm colors, edging into a magenta that couldn't be anything natural—coalesced into a form that was starting to look almost—human.

"Your expression says you maybe haven't remembered me yet," it—he says. "That's fine."

He waves one hand, and a whip of fire whirls around the edge of the room, making doors that definitely weren't there before all slam in an almost rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk.

A pair of neon-white eyes glare like they're trying to burn holes through his skull. It feels almost like they're succeeding.

"I'm more than happy to help remind you."

[tabbyrp]

{Tropes in the Wild West, part 4} {Cont from [x]} @brooklynislandgirl​  @tarnishedhalo

Sleeping in the saddle required two things: skill and a steady horse. Sam considered himself reasonably adept at the fine art of riding and Red Wing, in his humble opinion, was one of the finest mares to grace the lands. Rattlesnakes didn’t spook her in the slightest. Streaks of lighting could split the heavens while thunder roared, and it would barely raise a flick of the mare’s tail. Not that her resilience in that regard had been tested lately. Along each step of this ride, started a goodly time before the first cock’s crow and continuing well past the sun’s zenith, the sky stayed clear and the ground bone dry, dust kicking up with each strike of the hoof. A current flicker of wind sent a near hand’s worth of grit straight up Sam’s nose, made him sneeze violently, and dragged him out from the otherwise pleasant doze. 

As the cowboy righted himself, drawing brim of hat higher to survey his surroundings, it became possible the horse had roused him on purpose. They had reached the stretch of trail which led a winding path to the Riley stead, beaten down over the years by equestrian hooves, plodding cattle, and the occasional trip by cart or wagon. Sam knew it well, even if lately he had not travelled it as often as he should, matters between him and Riley being ever complicated since the incident. Complicated, but not uncivil. As horse and rider trotted towards the house, Riley was there to greet them, the setting sun causing two waiting glasses of whiskey to ascend into sparking gold.

Later, Sam reclined in one of the family’s chairs, still plump with padding despite a long journey from the old country. His stomach was full from a hearty meal and weary bones found comfort in the stillness. Miss Beth and the other guest had both retired gracefully once the plates were cleared, disappearing with lanterns and laughter that spoke of a secret joke between them. Sam was none the wiser as to how Miss Tabitha had come to be part of the residence. An innocent inquiry over dinner had been deferred by Riley and enforced with that certain set to his posture. The one that taught men quickly to keep civil tongues in their heads about Miss Beth. Miss Tabitha appeared to raise his same guard dog hackles, though Sam was wise enough to resist laying bait to see what Riley would bite over. 

Their previous partnership had worked well for numerous reasons, one being Sam’s calm balance to Riley’s strong will. Caution tempering boldness, except for when those bold choices were exactly what the situation required, and Riley had always been willing to lead the charge. Fearless was how Sam had viewed his friend from the first moment they met, two young bucks about to learn how this wild land needed to be treated.  Now, Riley appeared weary as he poured them both a fresh glass of imported drink, one that Sam took a light sip from, lest he give in to temptation and fall asleep right then and there. 

Perhaps Riley took pity on him after the long journey, for he skipped the polite type of conversation that would involve asking how the cattle were faring and what the other cowboys had been doing whenever granted free time to carouse in the township. “Now that the ladies are gone to bed, are you going to explain why you’re really here? I know you miss my cooking and the wit of my conversation, but it’s a long journey for one meal.” 

There… there…  beneath the crooked smile, lingered a ghost of the Riley he remembered. It hurt Sam in the chest, for he was about to snuff it out before the flame had time to grow. “We’ve got trouble at the ranch.” He gave Riley the due respect by facing him square on, as was right when about to ask a man for aid. “The kind that only you and your sister know how to deal with.” 

They left the following morning. The two men had spent time in discussion about the safest mode of transportation. A small wagon was slower, though it had advantages should anything untoward happen out on the trail and they needed to defend the women. Riley was prepared to begin greasing the axles when Miss Beth emerged from the stables, her steed in a trot while she led another by the reins. Miss Tabby, being from the town and used to working on her feet instead of in a saddle, had clutched the pommel tight to keep from lurching off, though she carried a grit of determination that Sam could find respect for.

Both were dressed ready to travel, supplies and bags strapped securely in place, with Miss Beth making statements implying that the men should hurry up before they were left behind. Riley was none too pleased, that much was plain, but arguing would only waste more daylight. Even a horse whipped until bloody could not complete the journey between sunup and sundown. Making camp at night always carried a risk, although there were certain spots on the plains where lingering too long meant not rising come the dawn, and Sam had no intention of becoming grub food. Not today, at least. 

Compared to Red Wing, with her steadfast nature, Sam’s friends favoured more spirited equines. Riley needed only a light squeeze of thighs to send Sally into a rocking canter, man and horse in perfect unison as they scouted ahead for trouble. Miss Beth’s gelding was a restless creature, endlessly flicking his mane and resisting the reins, keen to break free from a plodding walk. On occasion she split off, never travelling far, mostly to examine a particular shrub or other object of interest. While the brother and sister pair were absent, Sam and Miss Tabby engaged in idle conversation. He learned she was not a whore, despite a residence at the saloon, and nothing more about what bound her to the other. For all Miss Tabitha demurred, she did so with a warmth that few white women ever offered Sam. 

Miss Tabitha’s charisma, however, took a dent when it came time to stop for the day. After horses were fed and a fire stoked to life, she insisted on breaking off pieces of her dried apple and depositing them outside the edge of the stone circle which Miss Beth and Riley had lain around their camp. Protests about attracting animals landed on deaf ears. Even after the ladies fell asleep, huddled together nose-to-nose beneath woollen blankets, Riley suggested Sam leave things be. So, he did, until a pair of ruby red eyes appeared in the shadows and four claws, scythe shaped like a barn cat if not so large and twice as thick, dug into the offering.

Sam looked away, deciding it best  if he saw no more if he were to cede to his friend’s request for restraint. Already a part of him screamed to wrench a log from the fire and strike the cursed creature away into the blackened landscape, if not send it screeching back to the hell from whence it came. “It’s gone now.” Riley’s low, steady voice drew him away from those malignant urges, and indeed, when he glanced towards the darkness, nothing stared back at him.

“Is she like you?” Sam’s question hung in the air. Riley sighed, reaching to toss another fistful of kindling into the fire before standing.

“You can take first watch.” The man clapped his shoulder, unapologetic for everything, and made his bed beside his sister. Stars spread across the night sky and a chill carried in the air, making it hardly scandalous for Riley to roll onto his side and tuck in behind Miss Beth, trapping in the warmth of her body. A few hours later, when it came time for Sam to stretch and rouse his companion, he equally made no mention of how Riley’s hand had drifted during slumber, one arm draped heavily over his sister and a lock of Miss Tabby’s hair twisted around his fingers.

The remainder of their journey passed quick enough, the foursome covering ground faster than Sam may otherwise have predicted. He estimated it barely an hour past midday when they crossed the invisible property border to the cattle ranch which he called home. Previous plans for expansion in both land and numbers were currently postponed. Waiting for better weather, the current herd needing all their attention in an endless hunt for blades of grass still holding moisture. A dam and her offspring had wandered away from the rest, nosing at the ground as the group rode past. Sam would have to round her up at some point. There were other matters to attend to, and Riley had expressed his desire to deal with those sooner rather than later. 

Further within the boundary, while far away from everything else, stood a corral. The small collection of wooden beams and panels nailed tight together, if certain slants to joints suggesting a hasty assembly. Remaining atop their horses, Sam led them closer. Slowly, cautiously, for even steady Red Wing gave a nicker of protest at the approach. One of the other ranch hands had draped a circle of rope at roughly a yard’s distance from the enclosure, locking it down with heavy iron nails.  That was where Sam halted them. Close enough for a clear assessment, far enough for safety. 

It took a moment or two for the dozen bovines within to notice their presence. Leathery heads lifted, empty eye sockets unseeing and gaunt nostrils sucking in the air. Their hair was gone, every last strand, leaving behind bleached skin that clung to gaunt bones. Unlike the docile mother cow they had passed, these creatures shivered and swayed, endlessly shifting their weight from one spindly leg to the other. The largest of them rocked forward, pressing up against the fence. It licked the air with a decaying tongue, got a proper taste of the observers, and gave a guttural howl. Two more went flank to flank with the leader, catching the scent. Sinewy necks extended towards Sam and the others as far as captivity allowed, falling short, yet still teeth flashed as jaws snapped wildly, bone clicking against bone. 

Miss Beth and Riley exchanged a look, the elder saying something under his breath. Sam possessed enough experience catching his friend’s muttered comments to piece together this one. It’s spreading. Riley  raised his voice to ask what methods they had tried to dispose of the creatures with, impassive while Sam listed off lead bullets, noxious poisons, and an attempt with an axe which left the wielder with a broken arm. “Take Tabitha up to the quarters.” Issuing what was more order than request, Riley dismounted with his old engraved pistol in hand, his sister following and starting to unstrap certain bags from her saddle. “And bring a few strong men back with you, along with some shovels.” Being dismissed caused a protest from Miss Tabby, and it took another terse, private conversation between her and Riley until the lady relented. 

Perhaps it was none of his business. Still, as he and Miss Tabby rode away from the corral, Sam took in the downcast twist to her expression, and said in a tone of someone making merely a passing mention, “He’s only like that with people he cares about.” She sighed, lips parting as if to reply, but whatever she may or not have intended to say was cut off by the sound of a single gunshot ringing through the air. A high-pitched scream, bestial and ferocious, came after, then another crack of the gun. Miss Tabitha covered her ears and Sam took her reins, leading the horse with the sounds of death following close behind.

[maritimeericandersen]

We’re Gunna Need A Bigger Boat: Shark Week, Part IV

Henry, Rose, and Eric go to find the creature that attacked someone in the lake with a different method than usual for this sort of thing. 

Things don’t go to plan.

TW: Violence, blood, slashing, biting, drowning

@charmed-henry @thehuntress-rose @brucewhite @gabriella-marino

ERIC

Eric had figured it might have been a bit suspect if the three of them were to meet up in the dorms and walk over to the lake together. Especially equipped with weapons— and Eric’s very pungent cooler of meat and fish. He got out there about an hour earlier than the agreed upon time to dig out the spot where he had hidden the net he had scounged up, having to make a few modifications to ensure it was big enough for this thing. (Whatever this thing really was.) It had taken him a few goes to make something that would hold but after he’d gotten the first knot down it had been like riding a bike. The muscle memory from all those boat rides and hunting trips taking over. 

So far the lake had been quiet, the only signs of movement had been the lapping of the water against the shore and the wind sweeping through the tree branches. (Beside the badger that had scared the bejesus out of him when it had come clambering out of the woods only to take off when he’d shined his light toward it.) It might have been reassuring had this not been his first hunt in what felt like ages. Instead it left him unsettled. Like whatever it was had run off everything else that frequented the lake.

He had dragged the net out and settled behind the equipment shed, resting up against the wall as he sat and waited. His eyes had closed before he knew it as the late hour caught up with him. The sound of footsteps, soft as they were, roused him. He stood and rounded the shed, not really thinking it would be anyone else but Henry or Rose. 

The dark made it hard to make out the figure but he still called out to them, arm waving. “Oi! Over here!” 

HENRY

Henry had also headed out from the dorms early, though not as early as Eric. He had been gathering weapons all week, his sword and some knives and some other hunting supplies at the advice of some guys at the Hunted Deer, and they were all quite heavy. That had slowed him down a bit. Henry was relieved to see that Eric had already arrived, though, because as much as Henry trusted Eric, he had been a little bit worried about Eric falling asleep or something. But that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Shh! Not so loud!” Henry stage-whispered, struggling to cross the sand with all the weapons. Maybe he should have left with Rose, at least to have help carrying things. 

He assessed the setup. Net, cooler full of bait, Eric looking a little sleepy but ready to go. It was almost like old times again. He set down the crossbow and the set of knives. “Rose should be here soon. I didn’t really get a chance to tell her everything about you, so we’re gonna have to go over that real quick, but she knows about the lake attack. So once we get our story straight, we should be good to go. Remember, she’s not my girlfr--” 

Henry cut himself off quickly when he saw the familiar outline of Rose approaching in the distance and waved. “Oi, Rose!”

ROSE

She didn’t think she was late, but was still the last to arrive it seemed. She prepared in different ways than the two boys had. The huntress assumed they’d go all in on weapons and nets and bait, so she brought some other items in her bag. Rose rolled her eyes as Henry waved her over and called out. So much for covert. They needed the cover of night, but could yell across the beach just fine. Strolling in with her energy drink in hand, she looked to both of the boys. The one she didn’t recognize looked young, “So you’re Eric? I’m Rose.” 

She looked this new character up and down. Henry had only mentioned that he knew about the lake monster situation and he could help. Rose wasn’t sure how, but the net and smelly cooler was assuring. She knew if she needed to know this guy’s deal, they’d tell her. If it wasn’t necessary to the job, she wouldn’t ask. There was an unspoken understanding in organizations like her’s; it’s all need to know. If Henry vouched for this Eric boy, she could trust him. “Oh, and I brought liquid energy. I figured Henry would be so Type A that he’d bring enough supplies for the whole town to trap this thing so I brought night ops essentials.” She swung her backpack around and opened it to show the goods. 

ERIC 

Eric didn’t really have any expectations of Rose. He never had expectations from most people since he didn’t have the mind to think that far ahead. Wasn’t to say he hadn’t been curious to meet her— an American who hunted. And a girl at that. 

He smiled, giving a nod of his head as she said his name, glancing at Henry to gauge if this reaction was a positive or a negative since he knew her better. Eric leaned forward over the space to stick out his hand but Rose had already turned her attention away to pull her bag around so Eric just closed his fingers into an awkward thumbs up and retreated. “Brilliant. Wouldn’t have even thought of that. Thank you.” 

After a moment he clapped his hands together. “Alright then! Yeah, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Rose. Erm— bit of a disclosure here to make sure we’re all on the same page. Technically, to the Order, I’m dead. So if you could just not tell anyone you saw me here or know I’m alive that’d be great. Really appreciate that. And we’re also not trying to kill this thing unless completely necessary. Capturing and containing it should be our first priority.” He let out a breath, lips buzzing. His hands fell to rest on his hips as he looked between the two of them, brows raised. “Anything else?” 

HENRY

Well, that was one way to put it. It got the message across, at least, anyway. Henry had been a bit worried about how Rose would respond to that. Out of everyone in the Order, she wasn’t the most loyal to Tom or John (Henry was pretty sure) but she still had a pretty close relationship with Phil. And while Henry trusted Phil and thought the world of him, he also worried about how Phil would react if he found out about this. It would reflect badly on Henry.

“Yes, that’s very important-- very long story, but basically, Eric and I trained together, but he’s figuring some things out right now, and it will sort of get in the way of the mission if it comes out that he’s around. But we need his help for this mission so… yeah. Sorry I didn’t mention before. It’s sort of a need-to-know basis thing.”

There was something else that bothered Henry. What was Eric doing, trying to contain the creature like an animal-lover releasing a fly into the backyard rather than swatting it? What were they going to do, keep it as a pet?

He glanced at Eric. “As for the plan... if the creature puts up a fight we can use self-defense. I’m just saying. We have to prioritize our own lives. I don’t want anyone getting hurt unnecessarily.”

ROSE

Rose’s face fell when Eric explained his drastic measures to leave the Order. She was talking to a ghost; and yet, instead of a chill she felt jealous. Was that all it took? In order to disappear, you had to die. She looked to Henry next. How did he keep this a secret? He was in on this? For some reason, there was a cord inside of her that tied her to the boy even tighter now. He’d kept this secret for a friend for some time. She could trust him blindly. He’d proven it over and over now. She looked back to Eric, eyeing her expectantly. 

“Okay. I’m in.” She exhaled, “I won’t tell anyone, but why can’t we kill it? That thing tried to eat Candace and I’m sure it won’t hesitate to take a bite out of any of us! And even if we can catch it, what the hell do we do with it? We don’t even know what it is. I say we kill it and end it all tonight.”

ERIC

Honestly, Eric hadn’t been expecting such little resistance on the whole I’m dead but not bit but he was expecting the push back on not going for the kill. Before the wreck, he would have thought the same thing. It was much easier, anyway. And, they were right. It had hurt someone. It would have probably done a lot more damage than it had if they hadn’t been there to save the girl— to save their friend. 

But this Eric was not the same as the one from before. He had lived a life here without ties to the Order just to see what it was like with magic around every corner. Eric had met a load of Magicks, was on a volleyball team with ‘em, checked out their groceries, borrowed one’s pencil during lecture. Hell, he had met a werewolf (twice over) and not gotten killed or bitten either time. It taught him that they weren’t so monstrous as the Order had made them out to be. Yes, magic could be dangerous, but so could Mundus, and they didn’t go around hunting them. 

“Look, I get it. I do. You know I do— “ Eric gestured to Henry but still, he shook his head. “But you’re right. We don’t know. We don’t know what it is or why it did what it did. I want the chance to find out. I mean, don’t you? After all this time of learning about how these things are monsters, don’t you want to know why? The Order never told us, they just gave us the weapons and pointed a finger and I think that’s because they never stopped to ask.” 

He let out a breath, glancing between Henry and Rose. “My family’s been hunting things like this for generations but I’m only alive now because of one. So— I’m not asking you to risk your lives, if it tries to kill you, defend yourself. But if it doesn’t, if it’s caught and we can contain this, all I’m asking for is a conversation.” 

HENRY

So this was worse than Henry had thought. Swynlake had gotten to Eric, even more so than it had gotten to Henry. He wondered if he had failed Eric by not pushing him hard enough. Henry had been so worried about losing his friend, about pushing him away, that he had let him lose all sense of what he had been taught. Maybe it wouldn’t be as easy as Henry had thought to bring him back into the Order.

Henry wanted to hate this godforsaken town so badly, with its quirky magic that lured people into a false sense of security. And then it quite literally bit back. But Henry could see how Eric had been drawn in… Henry had, after all, fallen in love with a Magick. A completely harmless one, of course. But still. How could he hate a place that had given him so much?

It was far too complicated to think about now. One thing was for certain, though: Henry had to keep Eric and Rose safe, and make sure nobody got hurt. Or worse.

Maybe Tom and Phil had been right. Maybe Henry should have left this to the experts.

But this was his plan and he was going to have to stick to it, so Henry just nodded, though his expression betrayed a slight annoyance, a hint of concern. “That’s… noble, mate, but I’m just warning you, I don’t think this thing’s gonna want a conversation. It’s not a pretty one like you might be used to. It’s more beast than human, I’m telling you,” Henry said seriously. “I won’t go for a kill right away, but I’m not going to let anyone risk their life for this thing’s safety. Can we agree on that, at least?”

ROSE:

His words struck a chord in her. Eric was right. The Huntsclan was the same in the way that they gave orders and they were followed. No questions asked and no compassion for the creatures was allowed. It disarmed her in a way that she had been before. She didn’t know what had caused Eric to see the humanity in monsters, but she had also seen it first hand. Once upon a time she’d been in love with one, however those days were long gone. 

Rose held his gaze for a second longer than she meant to. She had decided to trust Eric, but showing that kind of weakness to him was a far off impossibility. The huntress kept unusually quiet as she mulled over their options and her feelings about it all. 

She was in a weird middle ground. One boy was fully dedicated to the cause, and one was already free of it. And what was she? 

Rose shrugged noncommittally, “Fine, you can have a chat with it if you want. I don’t know how much you’ll get out of it, Henry’s right. But I’m with you.” She put a hand on Henry’s shoulder and shared a look. We should let him have this, a silent conversation took place. 

ERIC

Henry’s answer had been about what he had been expecting— supportive of Eric but in the end not willing to bend what the Order had taught them. 

It was Rose he was worried about. He didn’t know her or her fighting style. She didn’t know him, either, and yet here Eric was asking two big things of her upon their first meeting. The air in his lungs began to burn as he held it in there, waiting for her response, not wanting to so much as breathe in fear that one wrong move would persuade her against him. Her answer knocked it out of him, his slack jawed shock turning into delighted surprise. 

“Brilliant! You won’t regret this!” He stepped forward to put one hand on Rose’s shoulder and the other on Henry’s unoccupied one to complete the trifecta, not realizing he was intruding on their moment. Eric grinned at the two of them and clapped their shoulders before moving to look out at the lake. “Now that we’ve got that put away, here’s the plan! You see those boats?” 

He pointed to a pair of small wooden dinghies, one with an outboard motor attached to the back. “We can attach the net between ‘em to take out on the water. With the chum we can lure it out and I’ll lead it back to the net, where you two’ll be waiting. Once we’ve got it in the net we can bring it on land and— see how it goes from there.” Eric turned to look back at them, hands formed into two thumbs up. “Sound good?”  

HENRY

Henry still thought Eric’s idea was silly, honestly, but he could at least respect the intention behind not wanting just to kill something on sight. Still, Henry was going to reserve the right to attack the minute the creature threatened Eric or Rose. He was not letting any other friends get hurt in front of him. Absolutely not. 

He frowned back at Rose, but understood that they weren’t going to get anywhere if they stood around arguing. That was soon interrupted, though, by Eric, and for a moment, Henry thought they looked like a team. Just like old times in the Order, maybe even kind of like Tom and John and Phil. 

“Sounds like we’ve got a plan. Thanks, Eric,” Henry said, his tone still just a bit grim. He looked between the two of them. “Why don’t the two of you take one boat and I’ll take the other?” Henry wanted to be in the same boat as both of them, just in case something happened, but he didn’t want to leave either Rose or Eric on their own. At least Rose would keep Eric on task and Eric would be able to draw on his aquatic creature expertise. Still, Henry didn’t like this idea of splitting up. It seemed to be the only way, though.

ROSE:

Rose wouldn’t pretend to know anything about aquatic magicks to these two. It was her own hubris making her act so assured when Phil and Tom had talked to them about the situation. She nodded along with Eric’s plan, but she still felt the same hesitation Henry did. Maybe it was the air of camaraderie; Rose felt like she should be a teamplayer and listen to the boy with the plan. The benefit of the doubt was surely earned. 

“Alright, into the boats we go?” Rose wasn’t sure about splitting up, but logistically they needed the two boats for this to work. And the huntress had a few questions for the ‘dead’ Prince that Henry might not understand. 

ERIC

He stuck out his lower lip and shrugged, not really thinking it mattered who was in what boat since his plan would be eventually getting into the water anyway so, either way, everyone was going to be on their own at some point. 

“Sure, yeah. Get your things, I’ll get the net attached.” Eric smiled, rounding the shed to go drag the big net down toward the dock where the dinghies were tied up. It took him a while to get the net fastened to each of them as he wanted to make sure the knots were secure, but eventually he stood, wiping his hands dry on his shirt. “In we go. I’ll untie you from the dock.” 

He pulled the first boat closer for Henry, keeping one foot on the dock and the other in the boat to keep it stabilized while he got in before untying it from the cleat, and giving an extra push. He did the same for Rose, only following in next to her with the cooler before pushing off from the dock. “And Henry, mate, if you see anything just say so! Sound going from air to water doesn’t carry that well so you probably won’t spook ‘em! You’ve not got to shout or anything just—” He waved off the rest of what he was going to say. “You’ve got it.” 

HENRY

Henry gave a quick, serious nod in acknowledgement and laid his weapons down in the boat before he started paddling. 

It was strange to have Rose here. Even though Henry and Eric’s missions had been Order-adjacent (or, rather, Henry’s subtle attempts to try and get Eric to see how rewarding Order missions could be) he had still felt like he was living a double life. He trusted Rose to keep Eric’s secret, but up until now, it had always been Henry and Eric on these missions. Bringing Rose in brought a new dynamic to things.

“I don’t see anything yet, do we want to search the middle of the lake or head for the river?” Henry asked, glancing at Eric and Rose’s boat. Eric probably smelled like fish after handling all that seafood-- did that make the other boat more of a target? No, he couldn’t start getting himself worked up. “The thing’s got to be out here somewhere.”

ROSE

Rose stepped into the tiny boat and had to balance herself from the slight wobble of it. It had been a long while since she’d been on a small dinghy like this one, but she kept her agility and her wits about her. The water was calm, so it didn’t shift too much under her boot. It was almost enchanting, watching the water. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the ocean on the last night of Spring Break, but still, the water did in fact have a siren call no matter the size. If only their weren’t some killer beast lurking underneath the placid surface. After she sat down and Eric and Henry had their exchange, she called out, “I dunno. Damn thing could be anywhere now. I say we go out a bit further and then let it come to us.”

She leaned in towards Eric, now that they had drifted a ways away from Henry. And with a lowered voice said, “How did you do it? Fake your death, I mean… and why?” Her brows knit together in genuine concern and curiosity. “I won’t tell,” she interjected herself, not wanting to sound untrustworthy. “I just, well, dying is about the only way you can get out of these kinds of things. Do you -- do you want back in?”

ERIC

He rolled his eyes at Henry and Rose. This was always how it went with people who hadn’t frequently hunted on water. On land it was different, everyone was on even ground for the most part and it was easier to see the signs of the prey. Footprints could be left in the mud, a broken branch clipped as they hurried passed. Water washed all that away. The earth was forgiving for the most part, leaving those that fell against it alone. Water didn’t care. Humans had crawled their way out of it for a reason. Moving to somewhere kinder. 

“Just got to be patient. If it’s here, it’ll show.” But he complied, helping to row the boat out to the middle of the lake where they could idle for the time being. As they worked their way across every so often Eric would reach into the cooler and toss out a piece of chum into the water. 

His eyebrows lifted as he looked up at Rose, her questions catching him off guard. Not that he minded. He just didn’t think she would care as they had only just met and all. 

“Erm— well it wasn’t exactly something I had planned. I was on a mission for the Order. We were tracking something that had been taking out fishing boats and a storm hit. It took the boat, we all had to abandon ship. Next thing I know I’m waking up, bloody freezing, on a beach watching a pair of flukes disappear into the water.” He paused then shook his head, looking down as he put the lid back on the cooler.

“So, I wondered, if we were wrong about mermaids, what else could we be wrong about? I had the payphone in my hand to call home but I— I dunno. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go back to them until I knew the whole truth. It’s why I came here.” Eric gestured, turning to look around them, the lights of Swynlake far off into the distance. “I don’t know if I’ll ever really go back. That’s why I want to talk to this thing. I need to know if what we’ve been doing, acting as judge, jury, and executioner, has been right or if we’ve just been going by the words of a bunch of scared people clinging to a world that doesn’t exist anymore until we turn into them and the cycle repeats.” 

GABRIELLA 

It seemed that Gabriella Marino had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time these days. 

Or, really, the past few years of her life. Tonight was no exception. 

The call to the water had been playing in the back of her mind over the passing days, only growing stronger the longer she resisted it. All her life she had been able to ignore it with ease, happy with her feet rather than her tail. It was only after spending to much time in the ocean that she had really accepted how much it was apart of her rather than something to be hid away. Now, being away from it for so long, felt like she was taking three steps backwards after only just having taken that first step forward. 

She figured tonight would have been a safe bet. Some time had passed since the attack and it was in the dead of the night. Who would be out on the lake this late? So off she went, making her way through the town to reach the bank, where she found not one but two boats out on the water. They were a ways away, the figures within them unrecognizable in the dark. 

What the hell? What were they even doing out there? And why did they have to be here tonight of all nights?

Gabriella bent down, walking along the edge of the lake until she had a better line of sight. She watched, confused, as one of the people closed the lid on a white box. With a handle on the top. Was that...a cooler? Seriously? Where they just here to get drunk or something? Hoping that they were at the end of their bender, she decided to wait and see if they would leave soon so that her trip out here hadn’t been a waste. 

BRUCE

Bruce couldn’t take it any longer.

After the run-in with the fox-fae, he thought he was done. At least for another month. At least until he could find some way to stop himself from this horrible monthly habit that he just couldn’t get away from. But the hunger returned, not quite satisfied, aching deep in his bones and pulling him toward the water. Not the same as the ocean, but close enough. 

At least it was the middle of the night this time. Maybe if Bruce swam out to the deepest part of the lake, as far away from humans as possible, when the other merpeople would hopefully still stay away, he could avoid hurting anyone. It had never worked before, but Bruce had to justify himself somehow. As long as he could avoid blood…

The good news was that Bruce did not smell blood. The bad news, however, was that Bruce smelled something just as pungent: an entire cooler full of fresh bait, right in the middle of the lake, leading a trail to two boats full of unsuspecting uni students. 

Suddenly, Bruce only had one thought on his mind, and it was food. It was rare to find so much of it, or to find it so fresh, just sitting there waiting for him. That thought propelled him forward and he rocketed toward the boat, launching himself out of the water and at the man bending over the cooler. His teeth clamped down hard on the man’s leg, drawing blood. All Bruce could think about was his hunger.

ERIC

The stillness was disrupted when something moved. He caught it out of the corner of his eye, a figure moving along the shore, but as soon as he went to see what it was the shadows had taken ownership of them again.  

Eric’s brows furrowed together and he stood, trying to get a better angle. Something moving in the water was one thing, but someone spying on them from the shore was a whole other beast that they couldn’t be bothered with right now. He continued to stare at the spot— waiting to see if the person or animal would move again. 

When they didn’t he shrugged, reaching back over for the cooler. “Sorry, I thought I saw—” 

The water jumping out of the lake cut him off. 

The creature bit into him and Eric didn’t scream— not at first. His leg was taken out from under him by the force at which the thing had breached the surface, his head slamming against the side of the boat. The small thing rocked violently, the extra weight throwing it to the side almost to the point of tipping but Eric falling evened it back out on the other side, the wood crashing back down into the water with him. It takes him a few tries to get his vision to work properly so he can see just what the hell was happening. 

He could feel the blood, warmer than the sun heated lake water, start to ooze against his skin, into the fabric of his trousers. Could feel the teeth in the meat of his leg, his whole body simultaneously trying to crumble around the point of pain like a leaf caught aflame and yet it wanted to escape, spreading back out thin against the floor of the dinghy. 

ROSE

Rose listened to his explanation with an open mind. Her own prejudices were tested since coming here, so she could see how Eric felt about it all. She had dated a werewolf (for a scheme, albeit, but she did fall for him anyway) and Eric was saved by a mermaid. For a brief moment, she wished she could be shipwrecked and gone with the wind. The moment was fleeting, but recurring. Rose had yearned for this before. But this life was all she knew. She was comfortable in that. 

Before she could voice her response, she didn’t even know what it would be, the boat rocked. It rocked violently and water poured in, soaking her legs. In a matter of milliseconds, Rose thought they were going under and then they were righted. Only, they had a guest now. The creature she’d fought off once before was merely inches in front of her again. Thrashing and hanging out of the boat.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” she chanted like a life saving mantra while standing up to get a better angle. Feet far apart to distribute her weight, she grabbed the closest thing to her. An oar, discarded in the commotion of it all. Rose lunged for it swiftly and smacked the creature with whatever force she could muster. 

“Fuck, the net! Henry, the net!”

HENRY

It all happened so fast. When Eric noticed something moving in the water, Henry froze, but he didn’t have time to relax again before Eric was almost ripped off the boat and dragged beneath the surface. 

“NO!” Henry cried hoarsely, reaching for his sword (it was a good thing he had it this time). He had already mourned Eric once. He was not going to lose him again. In the Order, not in the Order, it didn’t matter, Eric was Henry’s oldest friend. And regardless of Eric’s feeling on the matter, Henry was out for blood. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” He swung the sword wildly but only grazed the creature’s shoulder, drawing blood. He tossed the net to Rose. She could try to capture this thing if she wanted to. But Henry was aiming to kill. 

He raised the sword again, aiming to stab from behind, when he heard more splashing in the distance. Henry hesitated-- if there was another one coming, he wanted to be prepared-- then raised the sword higher and prepared to swing it downward.

GABRIELLA

She froze in her spot, like prey caught in a predator’s path, when one of the figures stood. It felt like they were looking right at her and she knew, if she moved even an inch, she was going to get caught. Her heart picked up speed as she thought maybe they already had spotted her and were yelling, she just couldn’t hear them. 

The next few seconds felt like whiplash as she watched on. 

The person settled back down. Gabriella relaxed so much she fell back on her ass against the ground below. 

Something came crashing into the boat from out of the lake, the boat’s movements aggressive. Gabriella shot up to her feet. 

What did she do? Go fetch help from the town? Or would it be too late? Did she try to help them herself? Was it worth the risk, now that she had only barely settled into this town? 

All of this overthinking was swept to the side as the glint of metal reflected. Gabriella ran forward until her legs were no longer needed, her tail easily replacing them as it slapped down against the water to boost her forward. The closer she got, the familiar figure of a tail came into view amongst all the chaos. It wasn’t like anything she had ever seen, even in her time spent in the open waters of the sea, but she could recognize a likeness. And if this merperson was like her, in any capacity, then they were going to need help. 

She got closer to the surface, around the other side of the second boat. Her eyes widened as she saw the blade of a sword, a sword??, rising into the air. Gabriella swam upward until she could grab hold of the side of the boat, bushing down harsly to boost herself up and grab hold of the wielder’s shirt tails to pull him back, keeping the swing from hitting its target. 

BRUCE (tw lots of blood descriptions)

First, the oar smacked against the side of his head, knocking Bruce off-balance and causing him to falter. He released the leg briefly and had just lunged forward to sink his teeth in again when the sword slashed his shoulder and Bruce cried out in pain, a low-pitched groan. He could smell his own blood now, and feel the warm trickle down his shoulder. Hunger still rumbled beneath Bruce’s skin, but it was getting harder to fight. 

His teeth scraped the man’s leg as he struggled to hold onto the side of the boat. Bruce was sure he was done for when, suddenly, the figure behind him stopped. Bruce’s head whipped around to see a pale pink tail in the moonlight, and… oh no. Was that a familiar face?

Gabriella?

Bruce had to get out of here. He had taken so much care to avoid revealing who he really was to Gabriella and the entire Whosits and Whatsits staff, and now all of that was in jeopardy. Would Gabriella recognize him? He couldn’t stick around to find out. 

Leaving a trail of blood in the water behind, Bruce swam toward the far end of the lake and transformed back into his human form before collapsing on the beach. He could still taste blood on his teeth, and the gash remained on his shoulder, a searing pain. If anyone showed up, Bruce was sure he would look incredibly suspicious. But he didn’t have the energy to go hide. Not yet.

HENRY

Henry swung the sword down, but was pulled off-balance when someone grabbed the back of his shirt. He stumbled, trying not to fall out of the boat. He had been right. Another one. This was worse than Henry had thought. The mercreatures were multiplying.

With some effort, Henry managed to wriggle out of the grip of the creature and turned to see not a shark staring back at him, but a girl. He immediately recognized her, brown eyes and round face, the new girl at Pride U. Gabriella, Henry thought her name was? His eyes traveled behind her to see a long, pale pink tail. How had Henry never suspected?

It didn’t matter. She was trying to drown Henry just like that other creature, and Henry was not going to let anyone else endanger his or his friend’s lives. 

“You!” Henry shouted. He raised his sword again, trying to ignore the fact that this was one of his peers. She was a dangerous sea creature, and she had tried to kill him, and Henry had to protect the rest of the town. It was for everyone’s good. “You’ll pay for this!” He lunged forward, rocking the boat slightly.

GABRIELLA 

She watched, breathing hard from both the physical strain and the utter relief of seeing the other merperson taking off back into the water. At least they knew when to cut their losses. Gabriella had been about to mirror them and disappear but when the other merperson moved, a new scene was found. 

With the girl in the other boat, there was a boy lying in the floor of it. He looked...hurt? Her heart sank into her stomach to create a terrible, painful, pit there. The merperson...they had attacked someone? ...again? 

And she had just helped them get away. 

She didn’t have time to process everything, to think about the guilt that now made her sick or if this had been some kind of gross misunderstanding she had come across and only made that much worse, the boy closest to her was turning around. Gabriella lifted her eyes to meet his. She knew him. Henry Charming. Vanellope had once warned her that he was someone to stay away from. 

Gabriella shook her head, eyes darting to the other boat, trying to communicate that she hadn’t known. She thought-! 

As he lunged forward she ducked under the water, the ends of her tail lifting up behind to get her as far away from the range of the blade as she could get. 

ERIC (TW: alludes to drowning)

His fingers dug into the lip of the dinghy, hands shaking from the vice-like grip he had on the wood. He could feel bits of it coming off underneath his fingernails but he didn’t care. Eric had seen this happen before. Had watched as someone got dragged below the surface of the water— and he knew he couldn’t let that happen to himself. Not again. With his wound and this thing’s seeming lack of care for his life, there was no way he would come back. All he could do was hold on and trust that Henry and Rose could get it off him before it decided to pull him along with it. 

A shout built up in Eric’s throat when he saw Henry’s arm pull back, sword hoisted into the air, even though he knew it would be in vain. As it turned it out, he wouldn’t have to. At first all he could see was Henry stumble back and Eric thought— he didn’t know what he thought, he could barely think at all, but maybe the wobbly boat had made Henry lose his footing. 

It didn’t matter anyway. The creature using him for a midnight snack leapt back into the water, leaving the boat to sway heavily in its wake. 

Eric sat up then, gritting his teeth as he reached out to his leg. Trembling fingers pressed down on the wound to test and he hissed. And oh god, it hurt. The pain clogged every sense, sight, sound, breathing. It almost distracted him enough to not notice that Henry had started yelling again. The creature was probably circling back around for him, and Eric leaned forward against the side of the boat to— again, he didn’t know. The only thing in his head was help Henry. 

Then he saw it.

The flukes, water droplets falling from them as they rose and smashed back down. And then they were gone. That was them. That was her. Just like he remembered because it had been a memory not just a waterlogged hallucination of an explanation that made sense as to why he was still alive. 

“He— Hen—” he tried to get out, his breath coming in but not enough. Finally he swallowed everything down and his voice came out in a desperate, pathetic, plea. (And not just for the mermaid, or for himself, but for his friend who was about to kill someone.) “Henry! Henry, no! Please!”  

Eric tried to lift himself up, using his good leg and one hand on the side of the boat. But that hand was slippery with blood and the side of the dinghy soaked with water. He put too much weight forward, trying to keep it off his leg, and his palm didn’t catch on the surface like it was supposed to. His body twisted and this white hot snap blinded him for a moment before he went plunging over the side, head first. 

His eyes blurred, whole head blurred. He felt like ink swirling in the water— drifting and aimless and slowly diluting. Like the blood he left behind as he sunk lower and lower. 

ROSE

Rose caught the net but so many things were happening at once. Henry swung at the creature, causing it to retreat. But then another one appeared? This one shimmered in typical mermaid fashion, unlike the creature they were hunting. There were two of them? Was this creature a mermaid too? 

Eric screamed out, startling her more than this already precarious situation was. It wasn’t a cry of pain, but fear. Henry… no… please! Was he— trying to stop him? She could understand wanting to talk to the monsters to see what made them tick, she was a psychology major. But begging for their lives once they’ve tried to end yours is too much empathy for her to comprehend. 

He leaned dangerously close to the edge. Rose couldn’t tell if the monster was still circling. She whipped her head around, keeping an eye out on the water. When she turned back, that teetering balance Eric had found ended. She tried to grab whatever she could find purchase on as he plummeted into the black water. “Eric!” 

HENRY

“Eric!” 

Maybe Eric meant it as a plea for Henry to stop attacking, but Henry only heard a cry for help. Terror seized Henry and he dropped to his knees, gripping the side of the boat and leaning dangerously close to the water. Phil’s warning about Charles Norrington flashed into Henry’s mind. What if this was it? 

No. It couldn’t be. Henry would have to find a way. He wanted to jump in and save Eric, but the mermaid was still lurking. What if she tried to kill Henry, too? Rose would be left all alone. He would just have to finish the mermaid off first.

Henry stabbed at the water at random with his sword, fueled by rage and fear. Order training had taught him to stay calm in moments like this, to hold in his emotions and focus on the task at hand, but Henry couldn’t. Eric was his oldest friend. Practically his brother. Henry would not lose him again. “You’ll pay for this!” he threatened, his frustration growing as the mermaid managed to avoid his jabs. “Rose! Help me finish this! Or distract her! Something!”

GABRIELLA

She couldn’t hear all the yelling going on but she had certainly felt the splash, even under water. Gabriella turned to look back at the scene she had just fled, wondering if that other merperson had decided to make their return. 

There was a shadowy figure in the distance, sinking in a line that led back to where the surface was fixing itself back over from being breached. The outlines of the two boats were still there. A large part of her still wanted to swim away. What if that Charming kid had jumped in and if she decided to get close again, she would just get shish-kabobbed!

But she had been in this position once before. Had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and watched a boat succumb to the sea. Above had been a violent crash of waves but below the water was still calm and from there she had waited to see what would happen. She had gotten a front row seat in watching as a boy jumped from one of the lifeboats the crew had taken to in order to help someone, only to get left behind. That display of selflessness had moved her forward to catch him before the ocean could truly take him for her own. She had swam him back to the nearest beach she could find, but as soon as he showed signs of life she had high tailed it out of there.

Gabriella, against her better judgement, swam closer to see...a boy, drowning, blood colouring the water in stripes above him. Something slashed at the water from the boats and Gabriella had a moment’s hesitation. Was it fair to the rest of the merfolk living in this town to let him live? These three had probably come out here to kill their kind, judging by the freaking sword on hand. But was it fair to let this one die? He had been a victim, too, hadn’t he? 

And would she be able to live with herself if she just let him, when she knew she could do something? The answer was the same as it had been in the frigid water from so long ago. She swam down after him, wrapping her arms around his middle, and hauled him upward, intending on returning him to the boats. But that stupid sword was going in and out of the water. 

Instead Gabriella swam them further away, back toward the shore. They broke the surface just out of range of the boats but she continued to carry him, making sure his head was above water as it rested on her shoulder. When they reached the portion where the lake was shallow enough for him to not take on any more water, but still deep enough that she could make an easy escape back to safety, she allowed him to lay back. Gabriella startled when she saw it, a gasp escaping her, hand coming up to cover her mouth. 

It was him. The same boy. Same dark curls. Same pale face. 

She panicked now, something opening up inside her chest like a black hole. Her hand shook as she brought it underneath his nose to feel if he was still breathing. 

ERIC

As soon as he’d hit the water he had tried to get back to the surface. His feet tried to kick but his bloody (no pun intended) leg couldn’t handle the movement, making him convulse and lose more distance between water and air as pain shot up his side. He hadn’t had time beforehand to gather air into his lungs, having not prepared for this, and he had already been struggling to breath properly in the boat. His brain began to panic against his body’s base need— caught between thinking it best to just breathe and knowing that would only kill it faster.

In the end, instinct won out. Eric tried to inhale. 

He didn’t register anything else except the always present pain and a distant feeling of moving until he was being laid down on his back. Instead he rolled over onto his side, coughing up the water and allowing air to rush in to take its rightful place. Eric braced himself with a palm against the ground, unsure of how he’d managed to get there. Then he remembered with startling clarity, Henry, Rose, the monster— 

A feeling brushed against his skin, that odd sort of sense people had when they felt like they were being watched or like they weren’t alone. Slowly, Eric turned his head to find a mermaid looking down at him. His eyes followed the shape of her body to the pink tail that sat behind her. He pushed on his hand, extending his arm until he was sat up, breathing in short bursts through his clenched teeth as his leg protested doing anything. Blood was still leaking from the wounds, the warmth of it a contrast to the air hitting his wet skin. 

Eric couldn’t really do anything but stare at her for a long moment. He felt like he had seen her face before, probably one of the many wandering around town. What an odd thing to think. All this time he had been searching for her and she had been there, right under his nose. 

Christ, he needed to say something. 

Something caught his eye, off in the distance over her shoulder. Refocusing he found the two dinghies. Henry and Rose. 

“Fucking hell.” Eric glanced back at the mermaid and immediately brought a hand up to cover his mouth. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that. Erm— my friends, are they alright?” 

ROSE:

“What am I supposed to do? Jump in?” She said, with her arms out in annoyance. 

He was crazy if he thought she was going to get in the water after what just happened. Rose knew she needed to act fast though. Eric wouldn’t be able to swim with that leg. So she bent down as low as she could go and swished the net around in the water, hoping to catch something entirely different than they’d come here for. Her arms plunged as deep into the water as the boat would let them without tipping over. Something shimmery glinted around the boats and caught her attention. That wasn’t Eric. It was a true mermaid, unlike whatever creature they were hunting. It could also be a mermaid of some sort… but she’d need to do more research. 

“Henry, stop! You could hit Eric,” Rose held up a hand. She knew he wouldn’t stop on behalf of the mermaid in the water. But with her face barely inches from the surface, she saw it. The girl grabbed Eric hesitantly and pulled him away from Henry’s ineffective, yet sharp sword. “We need to get to shore,” she said, standing. “Eric is gonna be okay, Hen.” 

HENRY

For a moment, Henry had no idea what was happening. Eric was deep under the water, the mermaid was getting away, and Henry was stabbing randomly at the water, as though it would do something, anything. He was just about to jump in himself, try to fight off this mermaid in her own territory (it was a terrible idea but better than standing idly by) when he saw movement under the water. Gabriella had grabbed Eric, she was pulling him away, surely to drown him…

Or… 

Could it be? Was she actually saving his life? Eric had said a mermaid had saved his life once before.

Still, one could never be too sure. Mermaids were tricky creatures. Henry was not leaving Eric alone with her, not when she could change her mind at any moment and drag him back into the water (or perhaps that was her whole plan from the start. Henry wouldn’t rule it out). 

So he grabbed an oar and started paddling toward the shore, a look of grim determination on his face. “We don’t know that,” he said, rowing as fast as he could. “Why would a mermaid save a man’s life? Out of kindness? These are ruthless creatures, Rose, we have to make sure--” The shoreline started to approach and Henry changed his focus. “You! Get away from him!” Henry shouted. He jumped out of the boat into knee-deep water and splashed over to Gabriella and Eric. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

GABRIELLA

Odd how when the boy finally seemed to suck in air, it felt like Gabriella could breathe again, too. The relief was almost as painful as the pressure that had been expanding in her chest because it left a hollowed out place for the questions of, now what? What would he do to her? And what was she supposed to do now? He was okay, still bleeding and turning the water red around them, but alive for now. 

When he stared at her she could only do the same in return, stuck in place with her own curiosity about him. Gabriella couldn’t help the fluch that rose from her chest, up her neck, and into her cheeks when his eyes moved down to her tail. No one but other merfolk, and very few outside her family, had ever seen it. Which was different because they knew what to expect, they didn’t stare like it was some kind of anomaly. But, well, if she transformed back to her legs she figured that would be way more embarrassing! 

She watched his mouth move but shook her head when it seemed like he was asking her a question, his expression curious and eyes focused in on her. Gabriella pointed to her ears, hoping that would get the point across that she couldn’t hear him.

She went to motion to his leg, a request for his permission to help, but suddenly the movement of the water changed. The consistent waves were disrupted and she whipped her head around to see the other Mundus approaching. Instinct took over and she made a move to flee.  

ERIC

His eyes narrowed as he watched the mermaid’s movements. She shook her head and panic welled up inside him, thinking that was her answer. Rose and Henry were still out there in danger and what the hell was he doing? Sitting around like a lemon. Eric attempted to get up but his leg wouldn’t let him, the nerves fraying when he so much as moved. A disgruntled sound was forced from his throat and his hands went to stabilize it, keep it from getting jostled anymore than it already had. Then he looked up and the mermaid was pointing to her ears, again shaking her head. 

“What’s wrong? What is it?” He shook his head at her, the movement slower as his brain tried to process what she was trying to tell him on top of everything else that was going on. What the hell did that even—? “Oh.”

Right. Well didn’t he feel like the biggest idiot. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know—” Then, realizing that meant shit all to her, Eric shook his head and tried to think of how to communicate without making a bigger fool of himself than he’d already done. Just as he was trying to make out what she meant by pointing to his leg he looked up to watch Henry and Rose approach, too. The mermaid moved, as if trying to make a break for it, and Eric couldn’t blame her but he couldn’t let her leave. He’d already lost her once, he wasn’t going to, again. 

So he reached out, another noise emerging through gritted teeth as he dove forward to wrap a hand around her wrist. He shook his head, pleading with his eyes at her to just stay put. To trust him. Hoping it would be enough he let her go and looked toward Henry and Rose. 

“Henry, mate, I’m fine! See? All in one piece!” Eric motioned to himself, choosing to ignore his leg for argument’s sake. “It’s her! It’s her, the one I told you about, it’s her.” 

ROSE:

Henry didn’t leave much room to argue. So she didn’t. Instead she followed after him with an equal speed and intensity. Even if she didn’t think the mermaid was going to hurt Eric, he was still in danger of bleeding out on the beach. 

When they finally made it to the shore, she saw how close she was to Eric. And he didn’t seem to be scared. Henry jumped out first, but Rose followed right behind. Trudging through the dangerous waters once again. She needed to stop him before he hurt someone who was innocent. “Henry, wait!” 

She knew her partner was impulsive and that his friend had just been attacked but she was not his attacker. They could at least afford her the courtesy of leaving her be seeing as she saved him. Maybe the huntress was getting soft. Rose had to raise her feet up to get more speed in the water to catch up. “Henry!” she called out, grabbing his shoulder as he closed in on the ‘threat.’ 

The girl didn’t look like much. Just a girl, frankly, she looked familiar. And quiet. And sweet. And then it all hit her with Eric’s words. It’s her. The mermaid he had just told her about. The one who saved him then and who was saving him now. “She saved him. You can’t hurt her.” 

HENRY

It took Henry a moment. The look on Eric’s face. Rose’s hand on his shoulder. He softened, looked from Gabriella to Eric and back to Rose, and then the weight of it hit him. This was the mermaid who had saved Eric’s life. The one he and Eric had been searching for. 

The reason Eric was still alive. Twice, now. 

“Oh,” Henry said softly, the fire and fear and anger gone from his eyes now. He couldn’t believe he had been so rash. To think that Gabriella was trying to kill Eric when she was really saving his life-- and sure, maybe it was better to be safe than sorry, but if Eric hadn’t stopped him, Henry shuddered to think what he probably would have done. 

He fell to his knees next to Eric and looked into Gabriella’s eyes. “Thank you,” he said seriously. “I’m sorry I-- I just assumed-- but anyway, you’re the reason Eric’s still here, and… well, I don’t know what we could ever do to repay you.” He probably should have paused the dramatics to attend to the massive wound Eric now had, but he was fixated on this. “I don’t understand, though, why? Doesn’t your… your kind normally try to kill us?”

GABRIELLA

Gabriella had every intention of jumping back into the water, already thinking about how she could haul ass out of this town. She didn’t know where she would go, maybe just return to the ocean and hope that her family was still alive in Avalor. She knew it would be a cowardly thing to do, to leave the Princesses here despite having said she would help their cause in getting their country back, and to not say goodbye to the Triton’s, who had been so kind to her, or Finn, or Bruce, or anyone. 

But the boy stopped her, his hand around her wrist. She fought to get away, stopping only when she looked up at his face. His eyes were bright and so earnest that he didn’t have to say anything for her to understand what he wanted. She stayed, heart in her throat, and watched as the other two approached. 

After a short, albeit very terrifying!, moment it seemed like the other two said something to make the Charming guy settle down. She straightened as he approached, chin lifting a little in the hopes it would hide the fear that was making her stomach turn into knots. 

Gabriella held his gaze, glancing to his mouth when he started speaking. She didn’t know what he was saying but he no longer looked like the monster she had seen in the boat. Just another boy, who had probably been as scared as she had been. 

And as much as she wanted to extend this moment, to find a way to communicate with them properly so they could get whatever had happened sorted out, there was no time. Gabriella, unknowing of the question asked of her, which was probably for the best now that Charming was within slapping range, pointed to the boy’s leg. It was still bleeding. They needed to get him  help. 

ERIC

He nodded a little, both agreeing with Rose and trying to encourage Henry to snap out of that all too familiar place. Eric had no doubt in his mind that Henry wouldn’t hurt her and remained relaxed as he approached, knowing the worst of it was over so long as the mermaid made no move to antagonize. (His heart was thumping painfully in his chest, but he assumed this was just the nerves of nearly biting it again and adrenaline wearing off in his system.) 

Then Henry started to say stuff and Eric went to stop him, to explain what she just had to him— but he couldn’t when he heard the sound of Henry’s voice against the apology. He shut his mouth, wincing a little from second hand embarrassment but not wanting to interrupt. (His breathing was coming in rapid and shallow. Eric thought he was still trying to catch his breath from having nearly lost it all together.) A hand came up to move the hair that was sticking uncomfortably to his forehead. His eyes cut to the mermaid to assess her reaction, as if willing her to come out with it and put an end to the suffering before it got too far. But she looked— well, she looked kind of like she understood, even if she couldn’t hear him.  

Only when Henry asked his last question did he move to intervene. “Sorry, uh, she doesn’t know what you’re saying. I think she’s deaf.” Eric reached forward to clap Henry’s shoulder. (His hand was shaking, the usual weight behind his touch lacking.) “But that was great. Remember that for later when you can write it down for her, yeah?” 

He smiled (his face had paled considerably, but he couldn’t see that) and turned to look at the mermaid as she motioned. His vision blurred and he blinked, thinking it was water dripping into his eyes. Ah. Right. His leg. 

“It’s not that bad.” He shook his head, waving a hand at her in dismissal of any concern. The movement was sluggish and clumsy. “I’ll be— I’ll be fine. Just need to—” Eric shut his eyes tightly as dark spots danced at the edge of his vision, head going a bit fuzzy. “—sleep it off. Take ibuprofen or something.”  

ROSE:

Rose untensed every muscle in her body when Henry softened. She wasn’t prepared to fight him over someone she didn’t even know. Though, she was sure Eric’s endorsement would be enough. 

It had to be.

“We need to get him to the hospital, she’s right. Right now. And I know that this isn’t what any of us want, believe me, I don’t want it either… but we need to tell the other guys.” Rose looked at Gabriella hesitantly when she said this. Surely she could read lips. She couldn’t risk giving out names of other hunters to a mermaid, no matter how much they pissed her off. “Eric could have died, hell, we all could have died! It’s bigger than just us now, Hen,” she stepped up beside the boys and lended a hand to Eric.

Looking at the injured one of the trio, “I’m sorry, Eric, but this creature isn’t the kind that can be reasoned with.” Rose was solemn but stern in her delivery. No matter how good some of these monsters pretended to be, at the end of the day they were still monsters. She wouldn’t forget that again. 

“Now come on, you need to get help and she--” she sent a pointed look to Gabriella, “needs to get out of here. We can keep her secret, but we can’t protect her.” 

HENRY

Henry was snapped out of his poetic moment by the realization that Eric was losing blood. Quickly. He nodded at Gabriella and Rose, then turned his attention to Eric. You weren’t supposed to let injured people lose consciousness. The Order had prepared him for something like this. 

He only barely heard what Rose said as he started to get to work. “Right. Sorry. Gabriella, thank you for your help--” It occurred to Henry that he wasn’t sure she could hear him. Blast. Henry didn’t know sign language-- well, he knew a little, being friends with Devyn-- Henry at least knew the sign for ‘thank you’.  He signed it quickly and then switched gears, realizing the urgency of the situation. 

He looked around for some kind of makeshift bandage, but of course, any supplies were back in the boat. On a splitsecond impulse, Henry pulled his t-shirt off and started wrapping it around Eric’s leg. “Mate. Stay with us. The last thing you want to do is go to sleep, just… keep talking, alright? You’re okay, but we need to--”

That made Henry realize what Rose had just said. He froze, his stomach sinking. Tell Phil? And Tom and John? It was… probably the right thing to do, but after that talk with them a few weeks ago, it was the last thing Henry wanted to do. “Wait, I’m sorry, Rose, did you say we need to tell the other guys?” A wave of anxiety hit him. “Maybe we can just-- everyone’s fine. Eric’s going to be fine.” He shook his head and went back to wrapping Eric’s leg. 

GABRIELLA 

Gabriella shot the boy, perhaps she would start referring to him as ‘Tonto’ it seemed fitting, when he shook his head. Seriously? Did he have some kind of death wish? 

To say she was surprised to see Charming using sign to express gratitude would have been an understatement. It always made her feel some type of way to see someone sign, no matter how little their vocab knowledge, but to get it from the guy who had only just been trying to stick her through with a sword? Couldn’t really put a name to that feeling. 

She glanced back and forth between him and the blonde girl as they seemed to talk to one another. This was one of those frustrating moments being deaf, surrounded by hearing people who couldn’t properly talk to her and in a situation where there was no time to do anything else but leave her out of the know. She didn’t know what they were discussing but time was running out for Tonto, her anxiety building up enough for her to turn back to Charming and start to get his attention again. Only then he went to take his shirt off, and, yeah Gabriella was completely lost as to what the-

Oh. She blinked as she watched him apply it to Tonto’s leg. He was helping. 

Gabriella wanted to go with them but first she needed to get back to her clothes. She was already embarrassed enough having shown not one, not two!, but three Mundus her tail. There was still some dignity to be left. Only, how did she communicate this? 

Tentatively she reached forward for Tonto’s hand. It was too cold, just like it had been the first time. And, like the first time, he was going to be okay. She squeezed his palm and hoped he would understand what she meant when she looked at him. I’ll be back. Then her eyes moved to Charming with a bit of a harder stare and grabbed his hand, too. She put Tonto’s into his and let go. I’m trusting you with him. 

With a curt nod to the girl she pulled herself back into the lake and swam off, tail splashing down on the surface. 

ERIC

“What’d you mean?” Eric’s face scrunched up at Rose. “It stopped trying to kill me, didn’t it? That’s— that must count for something.” 

It was a very odd feeling, the one that was taking residence inside him now. The adrenaline was leaving and something else was coming in to take its place. He felt pissed but without the warmth of the alcohol— he’d just lost all functionality. Eric Andersen really never thought about what he said before it came out of his mouth but now that filter was completely gone. His brain was too busy working on keeping its systems running to pay full attention to all that.

He squinted when Henry took off his shirt and then snorted, his head lulling back heavily. There was an attempt at a low whistle but when that didn’t work he said, “Wa-heey! Oi’, come— come on mate, why’ve you got to show me up?” 

Eric turned to Rose, tapping at her to get her attention like he was a school boy all over again, wanting to tell her a funny story about Henry he’d just remembered because, hey, they were all friends now, right? Only he couldn’t get it out in time before Henry moved his leg and Eric let out a startled yell. A hand shot out to punch down against the water to meet the lake floor. 

“Fucking hell! Yes! Alright! I’m talking! Happy, are you? Bleeding christ—” He cut himself off when Henry did, eyebrows jumping up. Mirroring the mermaid, his eyes bounced between the two hunters, confused. “Other guys? What other guys—?” 

Then the mermaid reached forward to take his hand. Her touch was warm. Such an odd thing. Fish were usually cold, he had always expected mermaids to feel the same way. The look she gave him seemed to be some kind of promise, one he was too out of it to really process before she’d replaced her hand for Henry’s. But the warmth was dragging something else into him, up from his chest, all the exhaustion, all the cold. Feeling Rose and Henry’s touch were such contrasts to the burn beneath his fingernails, the cuts on his face, his leg— the cold, and underneath all of it. Exhaustion that had soaked the blood from his veins and left him light-headed and half dead. 

Once again, he watched the mermaid swim away, but this time, he knew she was real. He gripped Henry’s hand and brought the other one up to wrap his fingers around Rose’s arm. 

And, this time, he hadn’t been left alone. 

[mattzerella-sticks]

A Healing Touch/New Experiences

15x17 coda, Post-Finale, Dean/Cas, Adam, Serafina, Sam, Jack, 2/2 chapters, 4.7k

Chapter 2: New Experiences (ao3 link)

Dean and Cas return from their little vacation in Santa Fe. Sam expected some changes, but not...

this.

           Sam knew Dean struggled after Chuck’s defeat. Even with Cas back in a more permanent capacity, shadows still clung to his brother’s expression. He couldn’t tell, but there were moments when a fog drifted across his gaze. Cas would look at Sam, and vice versa. Shared concern flitting across the space.

           When Dean mentioned that he and Cas were leaving, visiting the First Man and his angel lover, Sam supported the decision. Getting him out of the Bunker, even for a short while, might aid in Dean’s recovery. He thought so, as did Cas. Both sharing over coffee early in the morning that this might be some needed change. A good trip can do wonders for Dean’s mood.

           So, after Sam received a text late in the evening from Dean about how he and Cas were staying longer than they planned, he knew it worked. Then, as Cas sent him a thumbs-up emoji in reply to his question about Dean’s mental well-being, the bubble of worry lodged in his chest burst. He relaxed, called Eileen and hunted ghosts two states over.

           He returned two hours before they did. Settled down with a sandwich in the kitchen, interrupted by his phone chiming with a text from Dean. Home.

           Sam met Jack on the way there, “You on your way to the garage?”

           “Yes, I…” He flustered, glancing away, “I missed him.”

           He ruffled Jack’s hair, pulling him into a loose hug. “So did I.” They continued forward, happiness making him light-headed.

           Except now, seeing his brother, he doesn’t know how to feel.

           “Sammy!” Dean draws him into a hug far easier than he’s ever had in their lives. Breaking too suddenly, Sam almost stumbling from the loss of contact. “Looking good, man. I can’t believe it’s only been a few days!”

           “Me – uh… me either.”

           Dean certainly changed. The ever-present storm clouds disappeared, leaving his brother with a sunnier disposition. His wardrobe was different, too. Looser fitting, softer fabrics in bright colors. He wore a certain sandal Sam remembers hearing Dean label ‘the most basic hippie accessory’. What disturbed him most, however, was his hair.

           “You uh…” Sam tugs on his own locks, “trying something new?”

           “What?” Dean touches his bangs, as if remembering they were there. Like having hair brushed aside, flopping over his ears and curling at the nape of his neck were common. “Oh, yeah… I figured I might see how I look with longer hair,” he tells Sam, “just to try.”

           “To… try?”

           “Yeah I mean,” he rolls his eyes, snorting. “It’s gotten scraggly in the past, but I never let it get too… wild. Thought I might give it a shake, see what all the fuss is about. And, hey, if I don’t like it, I can just cut it right? It’s only hair.”

           Only hair. “I guess.” Sam’s mouth thins, inspecting his brother very carefully for any hex bags or weird markings. “How’d you get it that length so quickly?”

           “I may have asked Serafina to give me a jumpstart while we were there,” he admits. “Not too much though, I want to see for myself, sit with it. Decide which length I like it at.” His eyes glow, calm expression breaking into something more joyful. “Dude, I almost forgot – Cas! Hey, Cas!”

           Cas and Jack turn from their conversation, giving Sam a glimpse of his friend. It wasn’t only Dean. Cas wore a baggy, multi-colored hoodie paired with distressed shorts. Their duffels in both his hands. “Yes, Dean?”

           “Give ‘em what we brought over for them!”

           “Right!” Cas places the bags down, opening one to dig inside. In a beat, he presents Jack with a stone. “This is Green Aventurine,” he explains, “it’s for good luck, not that you need it. But we hope it reminds you that we’re always here for you, wishing for your success.”

           Jack accepts the gift, smiling at it. “I… I love it,” he says, “thank you Cas… Dean.”

           “And for Sam,” Cas passes another stone down. Dean taking it, holding the purple gem.

           “Amethyst,” Dean says, shrugging, “Kinda basic but… when Adam was explaining what they all meant, this one reminded me the most of you.”

           Sam stares at his brother, then slowly shifts to his gift. Wraps his fingers around it, clutching it tight in his hand. Heavy… but comfortable. Educated in the power of gemstones from his foray into witchcraft, Sam doesn’t need a lesson. “I…” he clears his throat, “thank you.”

           “No, thank you Sam,” Dean drags him into another hug. This one less awkward than the first, Sam anticipating it. Mirrors his actions, returning the gesture. “For always being by my side, and inspiring me to find a better choice. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

           “I wouldn’t be here without you either…”

           Dean claps him on the back, easing into Cas’s space. Lifts his duffel, twining the fingers on Cas’s free hand with his. Drops a small kiss on the seam of the other man’s lips – another rarity. He told Sam about their final moments in that closed room, the Empty closing in on them. Confessions of love ripped from their beings in the seconds where they were still together. Then saw those repeated declarations of love as Cas returned.

           This… Dean never so openly showed affection with Cas since that day. He prepared for the change in their relationship, expecting it even. But though nothing was left unsaid, and they shared a room, Dean and Cas never felt farther apart.

           That’s changed, too.

           “There’s so much we want to tell you,” Dean starts, “about Santa Fe – Adam and Serafina… honestly, next time we visit you guys should come with, but I am beat. Need me some sleep.” Dean loops behind Cas, grabbing at his waist. Duffel slamming into his legs and making him laugh. Sam and Jack giggling as well. “Although who knows if we’ll get any celebrating our union.”

           Sam’s expression rapidly shifts. From happiness, to confusion, then understanding. Lands on shock once Dean’s words click. “Union?” he asks, “What union?”

           “Ours.” Cas flashes their joined hands, showing off two similar bands on their middle fingers. “We got married.”

           That’s… a big change. “When?”

           “When, uh…” Dean and Cas bend their heads together, “It was definitely sometime during that hike, right? Because that’s when Serafina mentioned she was ordained. I just can’t remember if it was before or after we skinny-dipped in their secret spring?”

           “It was definitely before,” Cas says, “I remember you mentioning that the only thing you’d keep on was your ring.”

           “Oh, yeah…”

           Sam’s jaw hangs, from the information and how casually they discussed it in front of them. “You went skinny dipping?”

           “And did a whole bunch of other things,” Dean affirms, nodding. He rolls out of the embrace, still holding Cas’s hands. “But like we said, we can talk about this later. Night Sam… Jack!”

           It’s strange, seeing Dean carefree in this way. There were no traces of self-destruction or childishness. Instead, it was a more mature expression. Of being at peace. Like all the warring shards of Dean lay their arms down and united towards a common goal. One Sam can get behind, even if he needs time getting used to Dean’s new quirks.

           “He looks happy,” Jack observes, Dean and Cas disappearing behind the hallway’s bend.

           “Yeah,” Sam agrees, “He finally is.”

(chapter 1)

[sarcasmfics]

L’Incendie de Mon Coeur: Chapter 1

Summary:  After the Opera Populaire's fire, only ruins remain. Madeleine is one of the surviving ballerinas. When she is thrown into the opera house with her life at stake, she meets the infamous, Monsieur le Phantom, the unexpected hero.

Series masterslist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 1:

The Parisian summer of 1890 was especially hot. The few survivors believed this to be the paranormal result of the opera house fire, which still stood proudly beside the street. To passers-by, it appeared as an old, uninhabited building, but to those who managed to escape, it is the home of the infamous opera ghost. This fire produced skeptics who targeted the survivors, blaming them for the death of hundreds of stagehands, ballerinas, and audience members. Something like a witch hunt soon proceeded. Many of the surviving victims became homeless, and were the easiest targets to attack. People were publicly humiliated, beaten, raped, and killed.

Outside of the opera house, a group of ten or so people jumped from an old horse drawn carriage, pulling an unwilling young woman. The men cursed in uncontrollable rage as they kicked open the door and dragged the young woman inside.

What was left of the entrance hall supported the mob as they rushed up the elegant, curving stairs and into the theatre. Their angry, excited cries echoed through the aisles and all around the stage, stirring the thick layers of dust. They dragged the girl around the orchestra pit and onto the stage. She landed on her side before the laughing mob, her face red with tears and bruises.

"Since you love this opera house so much," one of the men said as he approached her, "let's play a game." The men agreed with a laugh. "I will give you to the count of five…and if we can find you, this opera house will be the last thing you ever see…"

"Please, monsieur," she pleaded, "It was not me!"

"1…" the girl stood, scrambling nervously and ran backstage, pushing the curtains aside as she tripped and stumbled. "2…" The men silently began to disperse around the stage, disappearing behind the curtains. "3…" Suddenly, her scream echoed through the theatre, taunting her quietly as the men dragged her back onto the stage. "How sad…zut pour toi…" The men laughed, throwing her back onto the hard wooden stage.

"Please!" she cried as the mouth of the group pulled her up and held her close.

"No, mon cher…" he said gently as he pulled the bun of her hair loose, releasing her long, brown locks. "You will, as you promised before, savor my love."

"No!" she cried again as her corset was cut and tossed away. She thrashed her arms and legs, fighting her attackers, but they were stronger, and held her as the leader of the group cut open her skirt, leaving her in her thin undershirt and petticoat. Her bare feet kicked and her fists flew, but they retaliated with blows twice as painful. Miraculously, her foot collided with her attacker's nose, pushing him back long enough for her to scramble a few feet away from the group.

"Who dares to intrude upon my opera house?" a powerful voice asked. It seemed to emanate from every corner of the theatre. The men froze, and the woman's face froze with terror. "Leave now, or savor the last moments of your worthless life!" The men laughed mockingly at what they believed to be the trick of the young woman.

"Tell me, mon cher," the man said, stepping forward, "how is it that you create such a manly voice from every corner of this theatre?"

"I have not said a word…" Her voice trembled as she stood.

"This girl is not the source of my voice, monsieur…" the voice said. "Shall you tempt me further, you will see my face…"

"You lie…" the man said.

"I do not," the voice said grimly. "Madamoiselle, you know of my trickery, am I right?"

"Yes, monsieur…" she answered.

"So shall I show them of my talents?" he asked.

"If you wish, but please…monsieur…do not harm me…." she pleaded and the voice laughed. Suddenly, the stage opened up beneath her and she fell into the darkness beneath the stage, her frightened scream echoing up to the men.

"Unless you wish to have the fate of this woman, I suggest you leave my opera house," the voice boomed and the men ran without looking back.

The opera house was silent.

A dark figure moved smoothly through the dark hallways of the opera house. The figure's footsteps were silent as they approached the unsteady breaths of the crying woman. She lay on her side, cradling her bleeding wound. A gloved hand gently touched her shoulder and she flinched back in fear.

"Please monsieur," she cried, "please do not hurt me!"

"You are mistaken, mademoiselle, I am nothing like those men you so strangely encountered," the figure said, crouching to her level. Through the dim light, she gazed up at the figure's face, her eyes growing wide. "Yes, it is me." He paused for a moment as she gazed into his light blue eyes. Something in his eyes met with something in hers, and for a moment, she was lost. "You're hurt," he said, gently touching her forehead. She flinched back at the pain of his touch and he quickly drew his hand back.

"Monsieur, I am so sorry," she said as she stood. "I have intruded upon your opera house."

"You have not intruded," he said, stopping her. "What is your name?"

"Madeleine."

"Well, Madeleine, you have my word that you have not intruded. However," he continued, "where is it that you shall be going?"

"If I leave here, I will lose my life," she said sadly, folding her hands together.

"Well then welcome to my opera house, Madeleine, it is no different than the last time it was inhabited." A grim smile overcame his lips.

"And you, you're the Monsieur le Phantom?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes," he answered.

"Oh! Merci, Monsieur!" she cried, enveloping him in her arms. His smile turned straight and she pulled away quickly, feeling the tenseness in his body.

"It is alright," he said, sensing her fear. "You may find your former dormitory if you please. I believe the fire did not damage the rooms that much."

"I will, Monsieur, but where is it that you shall be sleeping?" she asked curiously.

"Where I have slept for all of my years." he answered. "Perhaps, if you are cautious and wary, you may find it some time." He nodded and departed into the darkness.

"Bon nuit, Monsieur le Phantom," she said quietly.

"Monsieur le Phantom…" he mused darkly.

~~~

Thank you so much for reading!! 

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Royal Fire

The plan was simple.

Chu Zihang understood the monsters enough to lead them to me. My job was simply to kill them.

I stood in the room he’d shared with Nono, facing the door I’d left propped open. Once again, I’d tucked Ru’Yi on my back. She’d stopped whimpering, completely unaware of the danger she was in. If anything, sitting and waiting here in the predawn dark made her incredibly bored.

Chu Zihang entered the ventilation duct in the room and crawled slowly so as not to raise his heart rate too far.

He was playing a game of keep away. As soon as we ran out of the cabin, where Nono and Mingfei were locked away, the immortal on the upper level immediately chased our footsteps and moved at high speed.

It only hunted by instinct so it immediately gave up the subtle heartbeats of Lu Mingfei and Nono and instead chased our louder, clearer footsteps.

More immortals gathered from all directions. Chu Zihang ran wild and fearless through the empty corridors and restaurants and ran back to the cabin where I was lying in wait. 

He dashed inside and took a flying leap, gripping the edge of the ventilation shaft and shimmying his way inside.

I crouched, eyes narrowed. 

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

The first immortal footsteps galloped louder and louder until it skidded into view on all fours and pounced. Its fangs flashed in its open maw. Its reptilian eyes were wide. Its tongue sprayed drool in anticipation.

My light spear skewered it clear through the head. It hung in the air, its claws lashing out at me. It was screaming and its screams turned into a sickly gurgle as the spear spun like a drill turning the inside of its skull into a mess of grey paste.

The smell of burning flesh filled the whole cabin. I seized the monster by its feet and dragged it behind the bed, leaving a long bloody smear on the floor.

The screaming and the scent drew even more of them but, much my surprise, the loud banging footsteps weren’t getting closer and instead hissing and growling filled the hallway. 

They were fighting each other.

Like predators thrown into a cage, they were each trying to assert some sort of dominance as to who got to the food first, unaware that they were actually fighting over who got to die.

Eventually, scraping claws and snarling grew close, two beasts rolled into view one had its teeth on the other’s neck. I extended my hand and fired two light spears into both their heads, drilling into them until it was so hot that steam rose from their skulls. They lay in the hall, freshly killed.

There was no more growling or hissing in the hall. Instead there was silence except the clicks of claws on metal.

I blinked. They weren’t coming? My eyes widened. Where was Zihang? If they were blocking the hall, he couldn’t return here.

I swore under my breath and dove into the hallway. The monsters saw me and stood upright. I flung light spear into one and as soon as I did, the other monsters shrank away, eyes wide, bodies crouched. The impaled monster collapsed to the ground and the living beasts fled down the hall. I pursued them shouting. “Zihang! Zihang! They’re running from me!”

I came to a fork in the hall and stopped, listening. I couldn’t hear him at all. My heart pounded. Did he die? Was he dead? I didn’t want to keep shouting, fearful that I might overwhelm myself with predators. I could hear footsteps echoing somewhere towards the stern. But I was afraid to turn the corner and meet with an immortal.

I pressed my hand to my chest, calling my ethereal twin. “Ielia...”

Ielia was my biggest secret. She was me but from another dimension. We’d grown up together as ballerinas. But lately we’d become estranged. Her world was still ruled by dragons. She venerated them. And she could not help me if I was bent and determined to kill the dragon kings she worshiped.

But things were clearly different now. She appeared floating in front of me like a ghost, her robes lifting around her like she was underwater.

“I need you to scout around the corner for me.” I whispered to her.

She nodded and turned and floated away.

As soon as my glowing white twin came to the fork, she was pounced on by a massive creature. It was muscled, built like a bull. It attacked Ielia like a cat teased with a laser pointer and she float around him to turn his head in my direction. 

The light spear pierced its skull. It kept running around in a circle before it fell over, it’s legs kicking about as it tried in vain to kill an ethereal manifestation. I waited until it lay still. Ielia vanished.

I peered around the corner, walking through blood and leaving bloody footprints in my wake. The sounds of footsteps suddenly turned into a horrible crashing sound and I broke into a run. “Zihang!” I called.

The hallway grew larger and I saw that I was headed toward the the ship’s engine room. The door was smashed off its hinges and I ran in expecting the worst.

Much to my surprise however, Chu Zihang stood among the thick mist, having opened several valves. 

He turned to me and smiled until a muscular arm came out of the mist and grabbed him by the neck.

The immortal rose up, lifting him off the ground. He was a rhinoceros of a creature, covered in horns and bony spikes and with muscles like steel cords.  He roared in triumph!

Chu Zihang struggled in desperation to get free and I raised my light spear.

Ru’Yi suddenly began to cry. I turned and looked behind me. The sharp claws of the immortal that had pierced Nono and nearly gutted Lu Mingfei came at me so quickly I had to throw myself to the side. Still, the claws rubbed against my neck. If I had been a millisecond slow it would have cut my throat.

My baby daughter had saved my life.

This monster was faster. Its claws dragged the ground and yet it was like a serpent went it struck. No matter how I moved. I couldn’t move faster than this one.

I dodged left and right, barely escaping each time.  I tripped over a conduit wire in the fog, lost my balance and fell.

The monster suddenly stopped its attack. Its stiff lips lifted in grin, displaying needle teeth.  

It was playing with me, like a cat playing with a mouse. It was having fun. He looked at me like prey. Its golden eyes were dazzling.

I still had one trick up my sleeve. I took a deep breath and shouted. “Release!”

I’d never used my release ability on anything but Hybrids and Death Servitors. I had no idea what using it here would do. These creatures were practically full blooded dragon men. 

I aimed the full force of this ability at him. The beast roared in pain and lashed out blindly. I rolled to dodge and it smashed its head into the metal wall, leaving a deep dent.

As I backed away, I heard a low slow chuckle.

The other elephantine monster was watching its fellow’s struggles with some amusement, jaw dropped in a grin, and didn’t notice when Zihang lifted his hand and placed it on his head. It turned to Zihang, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

The air suddenly filled with a strange and dangerous aura, a pulse like the beat of a gigantic heart!

Zihang’s eyes opened, filled with a lava-like light deep within them. The massive creature let out a short howl and fell to its knees. Light shone from his skull, as if he had a crystal head with a lamp burning inside.

Chu Zihang’s feet touched the ground and he stood quietly in front of the monster, keeping his hand firmly pressed on the beast’s forehead, looking like a priest facing a confessor. The body of the beast also became transparent, as if there was fire burning in its body from the inside out, but no flames emerged.

The clawed monster pulled its head from the dent in the wall and watched in horror as the body of the larger beast broke like molten steel and turned to ashes. After a moment, only a burning red skull was left in Zihang’s hand and the massive monster seemed to disappear with the wind, leaving only the black skeleton.

He’d completely burned the brain of this beast with Royal Fire.

I felt a burst of joy, like the sun coming up over the horizon, throwing the light of day over a part of my heart that had sat in the cold and the dark of an eternal winter night since Christmas Eve.

A connection, soul-to-soul, snapped together like two celestial bodies finding each other’s orbits. I felt his heart beat, the sigh of his wistful emotion.

Unable to contain my relief and ecstasy, I cried out to him. “Zihang! We’re here! We’re all here!”

[nexthecryptid]

This is Home Ch. 5

This is Home Ch. 4

Summary:

A pack called the Galra are up to something, and it’s somehow tied to the disappearances of creatures, and the increase of demonic activity. Keith had somehow stumbled into the danger when he found his mother, making the choice to stay away from his friends to keep them safe. But in the end it didn’t even matter. They’ve got targets on their heads, and the Galra are slowly closing in on his home town Arus. He isn’t sure how to face his friends… Two years was a long time to be gone. … There are rumors that are floating around VLD University, crazy ones. While some of them Lance could tell was him or his friends, there are others that were… inexplicable. To make matters worse, he’s having dreams again, dreams about someone who just vanished. It felt like he was being haunted. Lance didn’t know he was going to have other things to worry about until the ghost revealed himself.

…

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First . Previous . Next

“There are only certain things you should keep hidden, mijo.  Like plans for a birthday surprise, or maybe the ending of a t.v. show or book.” Her voice was soft, sounding like how a feather would feel as it soothed some of the anxiety he had away.  He leaned into her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair, gentle and slow as she played with his curls.  Her movements followed along with the melody of the ocean before them, the waves crashing and dragging along the sand before them in a silent beat that only they could hear.  

“And the stuff  we can do, right?” Lance asked, his grip tightening around the hand she had offered to him.  

“Especially the stuff we can do.  However, there are certain circumstances, certain situations, where it is okay to tell or show someone our magic.  Like today.”  Her words were supposed to be reassuring, but a spike of anxiety echoed through his body instead, making him want nothing more to curl into a tighter ball and hide.  Today he had messed up.

“I’m sorry Mama.” He sniffed, tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Oh, Lance.  Look at me mijo” She gently coerced him into standing in front of her, her hands gently lifting his face so that she could look him in the eye.   

“I showed Hunk!” He cried.

“You did what was right.  You saved your friend's life!  You knew you could save him if you used your magic, and you did.  I am so very proud of you Lance.” She gently wiped the tears away, leaning down and kissing his forehead with so much love, Lance could practically feel it wrapping around him.  

“But…  But what about our secret?” He asked.  

“It is still our secret.  Do you trust Hunk?” She asked.

“Yes!  He’s my best friend!  And he won’t tell anyone I promise!” He grabbed her hands, yelling as if it would emphasize his trust.  And to him it did.  

“You see?  While it’s important that we keep our magic to ourselves, you will come across people that you can trust to tell.  You just have to trust your judgement, and wait for the right time.  Sometimes the time will come when you least expect it.” She said, smiling softly.  

She took his hands into her own, holding them tightly before humming.  He followed her gaze then, looking to the ocean and listening closely to the melody it sung.  

…

Lance could still feel the ghost of his mother’s fingers running through his hair as the wind blew over him.  He shivered as chills ran down his spine, the cold bite of the autumn air making him shake a bit.  He pulled his sweater tighter around himself as he sat up, rubbing his arms to warm himself up a bit.  He squinted through the brightness and looked around, noting that the sun hadn’t moved all that much.  Neither Hunk or Adam had returned either, so he could tell he hadn’t slept for long.  But it was long enough that he was cold.  Another gust of wind blew through the small clearing again, Lance deciding that he could think about everything after he got himself into the sun.  He left the stuff behind, figuring they could grab it later once his friends came back.

While the dream was short, it was more than enough to give him the message it had intended to pass over.  Or at least he thinks he knew what it  was about.  He just didn’t really know how it fitted in with the rest.   Every other memory seems to emphasize that the event was about Keith, that it had something to do with him.  But there was something more than just that, he just didn’t know what.  He could feel it though, like trying to remember an artist to a song he loved.  On the tip of his tongue, but the words didn't come until it was already too late to matter.  

A million questions ran through his mind as he crouched down by the pond, basking in the sunlight as he let himself warm up.  He was always one for the sun, but even it’s warmth wasn’t comforting as he thought about the problem at hand.  There was also a feeling that sat heavy in his stomach, one that he had been ignoring since the visions started.  He was afraid to acknowledge it, knew what it meant if he did.  But at this point, there really wasn’t anyway of not feeling it.  

For once in a very long time, there was hope that Keith was alive.  That maybe…  he was coming back.

The word hope kept echoing through his mind then, drowning out all the questions that had been repeating themselves.  While some of them were concerning, it didn’t seem as important as the fact that Keith was alive.  Why else would he be having visions of him?  

“I swear if I’m wrong-” He cut himself off when he heard something, dropping down to his knee and looking around to see where it was coming from.  The sudden panic pulsed through his chest, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.  It sounded like something was running towards the edge of the clearing, nearing where he had just left their stuff.  He let out a breath of relief, figuring it was Hunk or Adam coming back from taking a look around, probably finding nothing.  He stood up and brushed the dirt off his knee, prepared to call out to his friend.

What he hadn’t expected was to see a  wolf jumping through the trees and stopping short of their bags.  

Lance had only seen wolves through pictures or at a distance at the zoo.  He had never seen one up close, and though he thought they were pretty cool, it really wasn’t on his agenda to make that happen.  He had joked about them just being bigger dogs, but he knew better.  He knew they were dangerous and now that he was staring into the eyes of a gray wolf, he could tell that they were a lot bigger than he had initially imagined.  Bigger, and scarier.  

He tried to remember all of the details that he had read the last time he was at the zoo, trying to think of anything that could help him in this situation.  But all he could think about was the fact that wolves usually traveled in a pack when hunting.  He hadn’t ever heard about wolves being in the woods though, so there was a possibility that this one was alone.  It had been a while since they had come here, so the wolf could have shown up in that time,  and there had been rumors floating around that animals started showing up.  He just thought that they were about his friends.  But if the wolf was alone, there was a chance he could just scare it off and then try to signal his friends to come back so they could leave.  

That plan was quickly tossed out the window when the wolf slowly raised its head, Lance’s heart dropping as a loud howl echoed around them.  There were others, and he wasn’t about to stick around to find out just how many there were.  He took the opportunity, turning on his heel before taking off into the opposite direction.  If he could make it to the trees, to one with low enough branches, he could climb his way up and avoid becoming lunch for the wildlife.  The howl was loud, so there was no doubt that his friends were already on their way back, and they couldn’t be too far.  Hopefully.  

The howl was short though, hardly giving him a good enough head start.  He could hear it kick one of the bags as it began chasing after him, Lance refusing to glance behind to see just how close the wolf was already to him.  He cursed when he couldn’t reach the branches of the first few trees he neared, growing desperate as he tried to go further in while trying not to trip over the roots.  Running from it was inevitable though, the wolf circling in front of him and blocking his way.  He skidded to a stop, cursing as he landed on his ass, the pain shooting up his spine.  He wasn’t running for long, but he still panted, his panic seeping into his lungs as he tried to scoot backwards.  Tears welled in his eyes as the wolf stepped closer, Lance letting out a strangled yell.  It made the creature pause, it’s head lowering, and if he wasn’t panicking, he could probably see the guilt in its movements.  But instead he backed himself against a tree, pushing against it as if he could simply dissolve into the trunk.  He squeezed his eyes shut out of fear, desperately trying not to imagine the amount of pain he was about to be in.  

For the second time that day, something unexpected happened.  

He felt the nose of the wolf press against his cheek in a gentle manner, Lance shivering at the way it felt slightly wet.  Gross.  He didn’t relax though, shaking as the wolf began to sniff him, hovering over his face, hair, neck, chest, like it was looking for something particular.  He swallowed nervously as he felt the wolf pull away, a grunt coming from what sounded like their chest.  He took a deep breath and slowly peeked an eye open, flinching slightly at how close the wolf had stayed.  

It was then he actually looked at their eyes and took it in.  They weren’t yellow like had initially thought, or how most wolves he had seen.  Instead they were like light purple-gray and one that he had become accustomed to.  But he couldn’t remember where he had seen the color before, and for some reason it bothered him.  It drew him in with their familiarity, distracting him from the fact that he had just been running away from a creature that could kill him within seconds, it’s teeth only inches away from his throat.  There was something… almost human.  His eyes widened and it clicked in his mind that he wasn’t just looking at a wolf. 

“You’re a… Shapeshifter…?” He mumbled.  When the wolf’s ears perked up, it only confirmed what he had said.  He relaxed a little, and if it weren’t for the situation, Lance would have found the way the wolf seemed to nod comical.  

He wanted to ask them another question, find out what was going on.  But he snapped his mouth shut when the wolf started growling suddenly, once familiar eyes now an eerie yellow.  The fear from earlier quickly returned as he flinched when the wolf moved, watching as they turned away.  

A loud bellow was the only sign Lance needed to know that Hunk was there, spotting the large brown bear rushing towards them.  The wolf started barking, teeth bared and snapping their jaw in an attempt to intimidate the other, but Hunk didn’t stop.  He threw his whole body against the wolf, knocking them away from Lance in one swift movement.  The wolf caught himself though, landing on their feet before rushing back.  They jumped onto Hunk’s back and sank their teeth into his neck, latching on as they clawed anywhere they could reach.

“Wait!  Stop it!!” He yelled, panic building in his gut as he watched the two knocked one another around.  Either neither of them heard him, or they were too caught up in the fight to acknowledge what he had said.  He wasn’t entirely sure what to do either, tears of frustration welling in his eyes as Hunk let out a pained whine.  He was panting heavily, and Lance could see multiple scratches on his friend’s body.  The wolf didn’t look any better, standing on shaking legs with a distinct limp.  

The growls, roars, or yelps they made covered any sign of the new creature that sprung forward, latching itself onto Hunk’s front paw before it could strike the wolf again.  As if things weren’t crazy enough, it was a panther that came to the wolf’s rescue, standing protectively over the other when Hunk finally shook them off.  

 It was who the wolf had called for earlier.  

“Lance!  Over here!” He spotted Adam standing by the pond, arms waving for his attention.  The panther seemed to notice him too though, darting towards the brunette.  Hunk tried to go after them, to stop them, but the wolf caught him off guard, slamming its body into Hunk and knocking him over.  

Lance got the gist of what Adam was telling him though, his hands stretching before him as he felt a sharp chill spread from his chest, down his arms and into his hands.  Markings that had once been invisible glowed under his jacket as he concentrated, gritting his teeth as he felt the strain.  The pond water rose and twisted from it’s bed, shooting out like a snake as it quickly scooped the panther up, carrying them along as it then scooped the wolf up.  He was careful though, not wanting them to drown as he pulled his arms in, the water copying his movements as he pulled it towards him.  He waited till they were a few feet away before letting them down gently. He couldn’t hold the yell that ripped from his throat as the water froze around them in a makeshift jail, feeling his arms grow painfully cold.  

“Too much.” He mumbled to himself, his teeth chattering.  He let himself sink down to the ground, his body shaking violently from the sudden drop in his body temperature. He was pretty sure his lips were blue, his breath visible as he let out a shaky huff.  

“Take your jacket off.” Adam instructed as he ran up beside him, cupping his hands under the sun. 

“Sheesh, you haven’t even bought me dinner.” He said, never the one to give up on an opportunity to joke.  

“Lance!” 

“Okay, okay!” 

Lance whimpered slightly as he did what he was asked, wincing when the air hit his bare arms.  There were clumps of ice stuck on his skin, snowflake patterns etched into the layer of frost that covered the rest.  He would probably find it beautiful, if it weren’t for the fact that his arms felt like they had frostbite.

Hunk limped over as quickly as he could, huffing with what Lance could tell was agitation.  Leaves started to form and collect around him as he walked closer, a sudden gust of wind whipping the leaves around him until he was completely covered.  Just as quickly as they formed, they evaporated, Hunk no long a bear.  He still limped as he made his way over, plopping down beside him with a hiss.  He never looked away from the others though, still tense and on alert.  Lance grimaced at how many wounds the other had, knowing that there were more under his clothes. 

A glow coming from Adam’s hands caught his attention again, bits of light floating upwards like fireflies.  He brought it over and slowly poured the light over his arms, Lance immediately feeling the warmth seep deep into his sink, ice melting off instantly.  His shivering subsided, his eyes slipping closed as he let Adam’s magic do it’s thing.  

“My own personal heater.” He joked, hearing Adam snort.

“Lucky me.” He heard, and he hummed in response.  

“So what do we do with them?” Hunk asked, Lance opening his eyes to see the wolf staring back.  In fact the panther was staring at them too, the two of them watching with wide eyes.  It was weird to say the least. 

“They’re shapeshifters.  Or at least I think they are” Lance stated, the tension only growing when he said that.  

Once his arms were fully healed, he put his jacket back on, still feeling the chill of his magic pulsing within him.  He could feel something push at the magic that kept the water frozen, feeling like it was a nudge or a scratch that he couldn’t reach.  He frowned, unsure what he was feeling.  It wasn’t until he looked back to the shifters did he realize what he had done unintentionally.  They looked confused, focused on some unseen force before padding around impatiently, tails flicking with frustration.  

“I’m going to let them go-” 

“Lance, no!” 

“Just trust me.” He quickly said.

“We trust you Lance.  But we don’t trust them.  How do we know they won’t attack us once they’re free?” Adam asked, and he could understand his concern.  But he didn’t feel like there was a need for it.

“Because if the wolf wanted to hurt or kill me, they would have done it before Hunk got here.  There was plenty of time for it.  We can’t get answers if we don’t talk to them.  And until I drop my magic, they won’t be able to shift back, and Hunk you are in no condition to be switching back and forth to play translator.” He reasoned.

It was silent for a few minutes before Hunk sighed.  

“Okay.” 

He grinned, a wave of determination pushing him to climb to his feet.  He ignored the way his legs felt like jello, figuring that they all had enough to worry about as he walked up to the ice.  He slowly took a deep breath, looking to the panther and the wolf for a second.  They looked antsy as they padded closer, and instead of scaring him, it sparked a jolt of excitement.  

A shiver ran up his spine.  

“Okay, before I let you out, just know that I could have frozen you solid and left you like those cavemen you seen in cartoons.  So be nice or I’ll actually do that.” He warned, his tone light, but he was also serious.  

He took a deep breath before pressing his hand against the ice, his stomach doing a flip as he felt part of his magic return to him.  He felt less cold as he changed the ice back to water, returning it back to where it belonged.  His legs didn’t feel like they would give out under him anymore, the chill in his chest dwindling away.  

“Okay.  You guys should be able to turn back now.” He said, looking back to the shapeshifters.  They both looked to one another, and he quickly looked away to give them their privacy.  With Hunk, it was fine, but for them, it almost felt too intimate to watch.  He turned towards Hunk and Adam to give them a reassuring smile, wanting to reiterate that things were fine.  

“Lance.” It was just above a whisper, and he noticed that it didn’t seem to come from either of his friends.  The voice… sounded so familiar, but there was something else that made it the opposite.  It was deeper, rougher than what he remembered, trying to place it to a face, to a person.  He knew that voice.  

“Lance.” This time his name was said louder, sounding almost desperate and pained.  

Time felt like it had slowed as he turned towards him, his breath caught in his throat as locked eyes with the same gray ones he’d seen earlier.  Only this time he recognized them, recognized the person who was staring at him as if he was a ghost.  Maybe he was?  Maybe he was actually dead and this was just his version of heaven or hell or whatever you’d like to call it.  The last two years had flown by, and maybe the numbness that filled his chest was maybe his spirit drifting between existence and the afterlife.  But it couldn’t have been that.  No.  

Because the pain that was blossoming in his chest felt very real.  It hurt.  As did the sob that ripped through his throat.  

“Keith?”

...

A/N: Strong and protective Hunk is a blessing and you can try to rip that from my cold dead hands. My boy can fight!Please comment and let me know what you think!

[shadowknight465]

Sons of the Moon

Is the warlock is evil as the legend said? If so then why do those things so that he can make my scythe?

Nightmare thought quietly while taking Dream to a road trip. He stop in surprise when he heard the cries of horses. He slowly turn his head to the sound, and saw the monstrous snail. "Moon,... you're being more quieter than usual; is something wrong?" Dream asked. "Lou Carcolh." Nightmare whispers. "Really? Let me see." Dream whispers as quietly as he could in excitement. The twins look the creature in awe. Both deciding they should camp here for tonight. Nightmare grab necessary items so they can make a smokeless fire. While Dream hunted a few animals and gather some berries. After they were done they went to hunt the largest bear they could, and use it's skin for a bed; while it's paws for pillows. Because they knew the creature takes life from any valley it could, they decide to camp in a cave. "Bonne nuit, lunaire." Dream whispers, as he is frightened by the desperate cries of the equestrians. "Bonne nuit, peu de soleil." Nightmare reply back. The dreams he had weren't as pleasant as he thought it would be. He keeps seeing so many people that reminded him of Dream turning into fire elemental-spider-like entities. He struggled to try to control his dreams when he woke up. Seeing Dream paralyzed, while looking sick to his stomach. "Is something wrong Dream?" Nightmare whispered. "I-I saw her.." Dream mutter under his breath. "Who?" Nightmare asked. "Les Lavandière..." Dream replied. "What?"

"I woke up feeling really thirsty and decided to take a drink from the river, and that's when I saw her..." Nightmare try to analyze the situation. "Who's clothes was she washing?" Nightmare asked firmly. Dream's eyes widen. "I only saw her eyes before she screamed." Realizing he forgot that one simple thing to do whenever he sees a ghost like her. "I'm sorry-"

"You're just terrified so don't be." Nightmare reminded him. The brothers comfort each other until they fall asleep on each other's arms.

~~~~~~~~

"Dream, The croissants are ready." Nightmare call his brother. No answer. "Dream?" Nightmare called out again while removing his apron. He then heard some laughing, and followed the sound of leaves shaking. Seeing a few of his bullies, and Dream on top of a tree. "DAYDREAMER! GET YOUR HIPBONE BACK DOWN RIGHT NOW!" Nightmare yelled with a hint of worried in his voice.

"Daydreamer?" He overheard a bully. "Its what my brother calls me when I'm in deep trouble, or if he's worried." Dream answered. " Daydreamer." Nightmare calls again. "I got to go, see ya." Dream told everyone goodbye. "Is something wrong?" Dream walk towards him. "Breakfast." Nightmare answered. Dream got confused there's only remembers he skipped breakfast. " OH! Breakfast; what are we having?" Dream asked. "Croissants; with a new recipe." Nightmare replied as they went back. Dream took a look at the croissants, and noticed some brown stuff. "Cinnamon?" Dream asked. Nightmare shook his skull as he began eating. Dream took a bite. "Chocolate."

Nightmare nodded. As the twins were eating, Dream say something that was almost out of his character. "You know sometimes I think these chocolate croissant you made remind me at the moon."

"Because of the crescent shape?" Nightmare guessed. "That and itself."

"Hmm?"

"On the outside the moon may seem beautiful, yet plain; but if you break them you can see some dark secrets it's been hiding." Dream explains. Not knowing it made Nightmare feel guilty about giving him a amnesia spell. Plus some worrying? Maybe he's just over analyzing. "Moon, are you ok?" Dream snapped out Nightmare's thoughts. "Y-Yeah just doze off for a bit." Nightmare reply." Then again, Dream did beg Nightmare to give him that amnesia spell since no one else can do it for some reason. "Before I forget. A friend of mine is going to labor, and she asked me to see her baby, and the trip is a day away from here, plus 10 by catching up to do; so you think you can take care of the tree on your own?" Dream asked. Nightmare nodded. Knowing this is a perfect opportunity to go out at night without being question. "Sure. Just grab what you need, and I'll give you a navigation book. This time with guides." Nightmare replies. " I am not going to go till tomorrow, so I think I have some time for us to have a conversation." Dream said.

Nightmare thought about the 200 year old urban legend. How is scared of him and Dream at the same time, yet none of them said their thoughts about it.

"Remember that 200 year old urban legend? With the half demon half heroes being massacred?" Nightmare started the conversation. His first time doing that actually. "It send me chills every time I think about it, why?"

"Well it's because I've been trying to find what gender is that moon demon character is. I mean I get that the moon demon is born a girl, yet she wants to be a boy so should we regress her or him as his/her preferred gender?" Nightmare dance around the truth while trying to see if Dream also sees Moon as a boy. Even if the Moon wasn't born one. "Thank God, you were also thinking about that." Dream expresses relief.

"I thought I was the only one who thought of about that." He later explains. He took a sip of his tea. "Personally I think we should address Moon as a boy. Because if it makes him uncomfortable being a dress as a girl, then address him as a boy." Nightmare smiles. "Do you remember the other eleven urban legends where the main character is basically suffering the same thing?"

"If those characters were still alive today I want to address them as what they want to be, and maybe try to get all of them to be your friends."

"Hm?"

Dream put his cup aside. "Do you remember the stories you tell me? All of them are basically outcast just like you are; so I thought birds of a feather flock together in a way?" Dream tries his hardest to explain.

"What about the girl that had a crush on Moon? Better yet all those people that seems to be their only friends?"

Nightmare asked. Both of them knowing full well that he was referring to all 11 urban legends embodiments of evil, being outcast, for them to be scapegoats.

Dream fell silent.

Did I upset him?"

Nightmare thought. "Dream?"

Dream woke up from his trance. "Sorry, it's just... all of them are extremely toxic, or abusive in some form to those poor scapegoats; and yet for some reason I see their reasonings while feeling connected to them-don't get me wrong I'm very angry about what they done to their friend. I just wish that they could've done better." Dream answered holding his cup hastily. Nightmare thought of the 11 victims, and wonder if they're all connected somehow until.

"EKK!" Dream yelled. Nightmare realized he was in a trance again, and ran went to see the problem. "What is it?" Nightmare asked. Dream pointed at a orange golden spider that's as big as his hand on his bed. Nightmare took a closer look at it to see what kind of spider is it, so he can be sure if it's venomous, or not. Surprisingly it's not the spiders he ever read about. Nightmare knew that he has to take a risk, but he needs more information. Nightmare walk towards, and cupped the spider with his hands. No reaction.

Maybe it's dead?

Nightmare use his thumbs to rub the spider's adamant, and felt a warm beating heart. He knows he'll look crazy in front of his brother, but it's worth a try.

"Hey little guy, what's wrong?" Nightmare asked while placing it down on a desktop. The spider makes a web with the words. "My friend needs help."

Nightmare took a seat along with Dream.

"Where is your friend?" Dream asked. Spider rearrange his web. "At the fountain the giants got him." The twins look each other, then remember the new fountain.

Nightmare grabbed the spider, and place it on his shoulder. Lucky for them the bullies got away. However they didn't expect an octopus to be spider's friend. The octopus was a pretty sight to behold. Purely black with cyan colors on both the shining pattern and underneath it's tentacles.

The twins took a strong look at each other, then back at the friends.

"Dream, I need you to grab the biggest bowl we have." Dream nodded, and came back with a big bowl of salt water. The two later found a river full of sea water, and placed the octopus there. With the spider crawling on top of it. Sitting itself down like a crown as they dragged themselves to the sea.

"Kind of reminds me of us." Dream said. Nightmare turn to him. "You the octopus, and me the spider." Dream explains. Nightmare roll his eye-lights as the two went home.

~~~~~

Well, this is it.

Nightmare thought as he was about to leave his home. Nightmare walked out of the village, and ring the bell to grab a wagon. Not surprisingly when the wagon arrive. The carrier, and the passengers looked at him distastefully. Nightmare got on, and kept both his hands and his feet to himself feeling awkward every situation. He can feel the horrible whispers turned into judgmental eyes.

"Where do you want to go, demon?" The Carrier asked. "T-To the ruins of the celestial heroes."  Nightmare hastily answered. "Aren't celestial heroes part demon?" A passenger asked. "Why would you want to go there?" Another asked. "W-Well.. I wish to exercise the ruins. Even ghosts of demons need peace, right?" The others turned away. Nightmare felt like an idiot. The journey went on with an awkward silence until his stop. When he got off he noticed someone. However the little shadow disappeared into the ruins. He trying to catch up, but ended up losing it. He then heard a a owl's hoot follow by the sound of purrs. He look behind him, and saw the skeleton of a griffin purring at his legs. "Hey little girl what's your name?" He asked the Feline-Strigiform. Only to find a collar with a crescent moon, yet no name.

I guess, I could let the griffin follow me.

Nightmare took a deep breath as he walked towards that very ruins seeing a gallery of weapons with astrology signs in the carving on top of the room they were in. From the mercury bow and arrow to the Magic stuff of Pluto. Then he heard a voice. He turned and saw what could be a female ghost in the Mercury room crying. Nightmare then glance at the other rooms seeing more girls in their respected rooms. All have shown some parts of mutilation and hollow eyes. Their skin is like death it's self some were rotting with maggots and other bugs.

This must be the ghosts of the demons-heros.

He thought. He's not sure if he should feel happy or more scared when none of them said a word to him. Just staring. A few tried to look away from him. Because no one else is around and he's near the end of the hallway he felt like it's appropriate to talk a little.

"Are all of you really the ghosts of the demon-heros?"

"Yes?" One responded.

"Well let me just say.." Nightmare put his supplies down.

"You cunts got what do you deserved."

Then he heard the sound of giggling. Nightmare quickly turn around, and saw a young girl with purple yet Silveriest-white hair gradient, and the heaviest violet eyes he ever seen. Wearing a witch apprentice clothing. "You must be him." The girl said revealing her skeleton hands.

Nightmare look at her hands, then back at her. "Pardon me if I'm rude, but who are you?"

The girl blush in embarrassment. "Right, I'm sorry. My name is Hecate." She said. "I am his apprentice. Though between you and me; he's more like a dad." Nightmare nodded. "Can you lead me the way?" Hecate blush again. "Why do I always forget?" He heard her whispering to herself. As they begin walking Nightmare felt like he needs more answers. "So how old are you when you started working for him?" Hecate scratch her head. "To tell you the truth, i'm not sure. Maybe 2 1/2 years? Because all I remember him offering to teach me when I was 10." Hecate turn to Nightmare.

"Why are you so interested in that?"

"Because I always thought there's an age limit when it comes to apprenticeship."

Hecate nodded. "By the way,

why are you interested in necromancy? And how do you found Moon."

Hecate uncomfortably chuckled. "It's a long story. Plus he was the only family I had ever since my parents were murdered when I was just a baby." She answered. Nightmare nodded understandably, and took a look at the night sky noticing it's changed purple.

Nerco magic?

He thought. "We're here." Nightmare return his focus to the lunar scythe. The legend said that the scythe was silver, not black. Nevertheless he tried to walked towards the scythe when he heard. "You were supposed to wait for him." Nightmare turn around and saw another person standing next to Hecate.

The person almost black and white, except for should been his eyes, and parts of his hair, and appears to be missing arm replaced with what he has assume to be a magic-prosthetic version of it.

Nightmare gulped, and proceeded to ask for his name. "The name's Nox. I was an experiment partly created by W. D Gaster to travel worlds, unfortunately I got stuck in this one." "Quit it Nox, you're scaring him." He turn back to the scythe, and saw a ghost with a large wound on his chest before he turned into a person of the night. "Are you the warlock?" Nightmare asked. The warlock nodded. "I hope you don't mind me interrupting, but do do realize there's a little girl here right?" Nox cuts the conversation short. The warlock looks at Hecate, and transform to what he might have looked like in life.

"Anyway, without further interruption I guess we should get started-"

"Wait."

The warlock raise his only eyebrow. "Should we start introducing ourselves?" Nightmare suggested.

"Hmm.. I suppose we could do that first." The warlock snap his fingers revealing the room they were in is a graveyard. "Um..My name is Nightmare." He introduce himself. "Moon." Moon reply. Moon then chuckled. "At first I thought you were Nim reincarnated."

"Why would you think that?" Nightmare asked. "Because I taught her the reincarnation spell. One of my best students truly, but isn't willing to work under my wing."

"Um..what does she look like?" Nightmare asked suspiciously feeling uncomfortable.

"Aside from her clothes. Just a tree spirit with green skin, darker green hair, and a little cute tree branch on her forehead."

"That's my mom." Nightmare could easily see Moon blushed in embarrassment.

"Anyways before you can get your scythe I need you to do this small favor for the moon."

"And that is?"

"Stop the sun's children before they hurt another innocent soul."

"Are you suggesting me too..?"

"Yes, kill them."

"Why couldn't you do it?"

"My friend, I am bound to my scythe."

"Oh." Nightmare chuckle at forgetting that last part of the legend.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Aren't you already asking me a lot of questions?" Moon questioned Nightmare.

"Right.. anyways how can you talk to the moon, and are there others like us?"

"We are the moon's sons call the Lunarians, and yes there are ten more."

"Are there also Solarians?"

"They're called Solarite."

"Every Lunarian has at least one Solarite. However unlike us the Solarites contain every color of the dawn in the sun so this might help you get started on your mission. Anymore questions?"

"No, in fact I am completely satisfied that I got all of my questions answered. But so you're expecting more then what does a little light orb things that appears when I'm alone?"

Moon smiled. "Those are the little Astros, citizens of both the Sun and Moon Empire." Moon summon a base of Nightmare's scythe. "It will be done in 12 days. You can use this time to find and eliminate the Solarites. However it won't be easy."

"12 days?"

"Yes, and the moon asked me to give you some gifts. Most of them are from the Moon, but this one is from me."

"And that is?"

"Temporary Immortality. And it's not what you think it is."

"You mean I can get hurt?"

"Yes, as well every time you appear to be dead you're just in a deep sleep for a few hours."

"That doesn't sound like anything in the books I read."

"Magic always has a price to pay."  Moon reply.

"But first just know that they can't be killed with just any weapon. They can be killed by our scythes. And the book the Astros gave you is a bit outdated."

"What-"

"There's actually 12 realms of hell. One is controlled by three queens."

"Oh. But my scythe-"

"You can use mine. Temporary of course. Nox."

Nightmare turned to Nox, and can tell that he doesn't like the idea of giving the scythe to him. Nevertheless it seems he agreed on it. As soon as Nox had it over Nightmare was blinded by a beaming white.

"It has been done."

Nightmare rubs his eye-lights realizing that the scythe is missing, then look up to see Moon smiling. "You know out of all the lunarians you seem to be the only one that has both his eyes-"

"Actually my right eye-light is fake." Nightmare then proceeds to take it off. "See?"

Moon stared at the fake light for a while then back at Nightmare. "Also I really like your Griffin. Is it the same one back when you were alive?" Nightmare asked. "What are you talking about? I don't have a griffin back then. Though I did have a memory of seeing a dead Griffin. Come to think of it I don't remember any happiest memories back when I was alive." Nightmare felt like he should've brought Dream along. "But let bygones be bygones." Moon offered Nightmare to shake his hand. Nightmare proceeded, and felt something off about it then remembered Dream. "You're not fooling me with your gloves."

"Hm?"

"My brother basically wore gloves all the time so I know you have a skeleton hand as well." Nightmare explains now fully knowing the full costs of necromancy. Moon took off his glove revealing a similar hand like Hecate's, yet Nightmare doesn't feel any fear. Just comfort. "By the way do you have a spare book that will teach you how to read? I want to give it to my brother before he goes on a trip."

Moon nodded, and summoned a copy of that book. From the alphabet sounding to words sounding. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

~~~~~

Should I tell him the truth about his friend, and what they really are when his back is turned?

Nightmare thought as he watch his brother packing. He tried making the visions appear to him, but it didn't work for some reason. He took a deep breath, and made up his mind.

"Hey Dream, there's something I need to tell you about your friends."

"Hm?" Dream turned. "You see whenever you're not around, and I'm left alone with them they are a bit hostile." He explains. "What do you mean?"

"I mean they would attack me, and rarely torture me. Calling me horrible names, and tells me to kill myself." Nightmare hold back his tears. Reliving the memories is worse, than him being there. "Are you telling me that I shouldn't go?"  Dream questioned his brother. "No, I mean- It's your decision if you want to go or not.  I'm not forcing you to stay, but i'm not gonna force you to leave either." Nightmare explains. Dream put down his belongings, and went up to Nightmare. "I'll try to get them to stop while in the trip, OK?" Dream continue on. "And  I did have a new friend, and he recently lost his arm, his wife, and his son. So maybe you two can try to be friends."

Nightmare has his doubts, but he did had some comfort in his brother's words. " What's his name?" Nightmare asked. "Neil." Dream answered. The boys, then heard the whistle blowing. "Wait." Nightmare rush himself, and grab the book from the Moon. "Something for you to read."

"But I can't-" Dream looked at the book. "Does this teach you how to read?"

Nightmare nodded as The second whistle blows.

"I gotta go, goodbye." Dream said. As the golden twin ran to the cart to get to the boat Nightmare whispers to himself. "Goodbye."

[atc74]

Huckleberry

Square(s) Filled: Western for @spngenrebingo, Love Confession for BTZ Bingo, Road Trip for @spnfluffbingo2019

Warnings: slight angst, Dean in a Stetson, tears, fluff

Summary: Y/N plans a trip and fakes a case to tell Dean how she really feels but it doesn’t exactly go the way she had planned. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2611

Written for: btzbingo, @spngenrebingo, @spnfluffbingo2019

Beta’d by: @alleiradayne, thank you love. 

A/N: This may have been a request or a suggestion at one time, or it could have been a conversation between me and @sis-tafics, I don’t really remember. Either way, I like how this turned out and I hope you do too!

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

“Hey Dean, I found us a case,” Y/N looked up as Dean walked into the kitchen, his dead man robe hanging open, revealing his boxers. He shuffled in his old man slippers across the cold concrete floor to the coffee pot.

“Great, I’ll let Sam know. Ready in thirty?” he asked, savoring the first sip of his coffee.

“It’s a milk run, thought maybe you and me could take this one on our own. Give Sam some alone time.” Y/N looked at Dean over the rim of her cup, waiting on his reply.

“Yeah, sounds good, Sweetheart,” he smiled and her heart flipped in her chest, lodging itself in her throat. She’d always been a sucker for his smile, but when they were alone like this and she knew it was just for her was a whole other story.

Thirty minutes later, she meet Dean in the garage as he was checking the weapons. She tossed her overstuffed bag in the back seat and joined him at Baby’s trunk.

“So we have pretty much everything we need for anything, except lamb’s blood. It’s not a djinn, is it?” He looked to her as he lowered the lid on the weapons cache.

“No. No djinn. Please no djinn ever again,” she shook her head clear of the memories of a hunt gone wrong a couple years ago. It was the turning moment in her life and her perspective of the elder Winchester. The djinn-induced dream revealed her deepest desire and while deep down she may have always known she was attracted to Dean, she never thought that a life with him could be possible. She pursed her lips together, blurting out her well practiced dialogue. “Ghost. Should be a simple salt and burn. Two, three days tops.”

They climbed in the car, doors shutting in unison. Dean turned the ignition and Baby rumbled to life, purring like a badass kitten. As he put her into drive, pulling out of the garage, Dean turned to Y/N. “Where to m’lady?”

Y/N was sure she blushed a couple different shades of pink. “You’re gonna love this, Dean... Tombstone, Arizona, good sir.”

“Tombstone? Are you shitting me right now? We have a case in Tombstone?” Dean was so excited, Baby lurched under the pressure of his booted foot when he turned his upper body to face Y/N.

“Easy cowboy!” she laughed. “It’s just a case.”

“It is not just a case. It’s a ghost in Tombstone! Ahhh! Maybe it’s Billy Claiborne! I bet it’s Billy Claiborne,” Dean smirked and turned his attention back to the road, flooring it to get to their destination. It was going to be a long drive.

And it was. With Dean so excited about a potential case in Tombstone, the mecca of all things Wild West, it was a struggle to keep him focused. The sooner they were checked into their room, the sooner her nerves would calm down. Or get worse. It was a crap shoot at this point.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her life. Sure, she hunted the worst of the worst. She’d been shot, stabbed, broken bones and has been stitched up more times than she can count. But telling her best friend she’s in love with him? It was a whole new ballgame.

Dean slowed as they entered the city limits, his eyes wide as he took in the sights of Tombstone, Arizona. After all the miles he had logged, after all the places he had been and things he had seen, it was somewhere Dean had only ever dreamed of visiting. He didn’t even care what the case was, he decided they were staying a few extra days so he could see and experience everything Tombstone had to offer. And with his favorite girl by his side.

“Hey, I called ahead and reserved us a room. I thought it was the least I could do, dragging you all the way here and all,” Y/N mentioned as he stopped at the crosswalk. “It’s just ahead, Wyatt’s Hotel and Coffee House. Two of your favorite things, Winchester. Wyatt Earp and coffee.” She giggled as she watched Dean, a wide smile breaking out across his handsome face.

“Don’t forget you and whiskey,” he winked and Y/N felt herself blush in the darkness of the Impala. “Let’s get checked in and start fresh in the morning, huh?”

After Dean parked, they got out of the car, bags slung over their shoulders and walked into the hotel. Y/N approached the desk, checking them in while Dean stood in the middle of the lobby, his mouth agape, taking in everything. The hotel was directly across the street from the O.K. Corral and there were faded photos all along the walls depicting the rich and outlawed history of the town. Y/N jingled a set of keys at Dean to get his attention and together they climbed the stairs to their room on the second floor of the hotel.

Dean took the keys from her and stared at the sign on the door announcing they were entering the Wyatt and Josephine Suite. “Seriously?!” His voice was higher than his usual baritone, accentuated by the excitement. “Wyatt and Josephine!” Dean unlocked the door and swung it wide. The room furnished with period pieces, right down to the steel frame bed and lace doilies. He didn’t even say a word about the single king size bed.

Y/N let him inspect every little piece of the room while she went to change in the surprisingly modern bathroom. She had done her research and while the website toted a ‘spacious modern bathroom’, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. She tried to keep her mind focused on taking off her clothes and putting on her pajamas, which to be honest, was just a pair of loose boy shorts and a old band tee she had stolen from Dean. She could hear the voices in her head telling her she was wrong. She shouldn’t do this. She’d lose her best friend. But for once her heart was louder and stronger than the voices in her head. She smiled to herself and stepped out of the bathroom to find Dean already in bed, reading what appeared to be all of the brochures the hotel had provided.

“Did you know the O.K. Corral is literally across the street? Man we gotta go there! And the Birdcage Theatre. This is awesome!” Dean hadn’t stopped smiling since they left the Bunker. Y/N hoped he doesn’t stop for the entire trip.

“I knew you’d be excited about this!” she told him, climbing into the opposite of the bed. “There is a coffee shop downstairs and a continental breakfast is included. What’d’ya say we get some shut eye, then start our day with coffee and pastries, maybe some bacon?”

“Sounds awesome,” Dean repeated, placing the brochures on the bedside table and flipped off the small lamp.

Y/N woke the next morning to an empty bed and room, Dean having disappeared. Christ, there better not really be a case here! She thought to herself as she attended to her morning business. She stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped tight in a towel to find Dean sitting at the small table. Y/N wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Dean to find her in just a towel, or her seeing Dean in his best western get up, complete with light colored Stetson and boots.

Y/N took hold of herself mentally shaking the impure thoughts from her head. “Soooo, what’s with the gettup, cowboy? Or should I say Marshall?”

“Well, when in Rome…” Dean gestured to the room with a wink in her direction and she swore her knees were going to buckle if she looked at him one more second, or worse, she was going to rip the towel from her body and throw herself at him like a fool. She quickly grabbed her clothes and returned to the bathroom.

“Fuck!” she mumbled after she managed to close the door. She was going to have to fess up sooner rather than later, because in all her scheming, she forgot to pack her Fed suit. Throwing on a tank and her tightest jeans, she stepped back out in the room to see Dean holding out a hat similar to his own.

“I got you one, too, Sweetheart,” he dropped the hat on her head.

“That’s so sweet, Dean. Thank you,” she whispered, overcome with emotion at the small gesture.

“Of course, Sweetheart. I gotta take care of my best girl,” he smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Speaking of which, your suit is hanging in the closet. I’ll go get us a table while you finish getting dressed.”

Y/N watched him swagger, yes swagger, out of the room. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest that she was surprised he didn’t hear it. She took her suit from the hanger, shocked that she forgot it, but Dean remembered. He was always looking out for her, even when neither of them realized it.

She twisted her hair up in a low bun at the nape of her neck and brushed some mascara on her lashes. She never was much for makeup, but figured a light coat couldn’t hurt. She checked herself once more before grabbing her key and making her way downstairs to meet Dean. She dreaded having to tell him the truth, but hoped he wouldn't be mad. So what if there wasn’t a case? They were in Tombstone, Dean’s Disneyland, and she was going to make the most of it for him.

Dean had secured not only a table, but he already had it loaded with hot coffee, just the way she liked it, a pile of bacon, along with a plate of fruit, and a toasted english muffin, complete with peanut butter. He was halfway through a chocolate covered bear claw when she sat down. “You spoil me, you know that right?”

“Someone has to. If it wasn’t for me and Sammy, you’d spend your days hungry and naked,” he chuckled, mumbling something under his breath that sounded a lot like “not that I’d mind” but she brushed it off as a hallucination due to minor starvation.

“You’re right. You cook for me and wash my clothes. I’m a lucky girl. I’d hate to think what I’d be without you,” she nibbled on the english muffin, licking the peanut butter from her thumb.

“You’ll never have to worry about that, Sweetheart,” he vowed, quickly changing the subject. “Now, tell me about this case.” He rubbed his hands together, ready to hear all the gory details.

“Yeah, about that. I hear there have been some sightings at the Birdcage Theatre,” she mumbled.

“Birdcage Theatre it is!” Dean finished his coffee while she ate the last bite. “Come on, you can finish your coffee on the way over. It’s just a couple blocks.”

By the time they reached their destination, she couldn’t keep it from him anymore. “Dean there isn’t a case!”

“What do you mean there isn’t a case?” Dean turned and looked at her, the look on his face a cross between annoyed and offended. “You dragged me all the way here for nothing? I can’t believe you faked a case!” He turned on the heels of his boots and walking away.

Tears streamed down her face. She hadn’t even made half the confessions she had planned and he was already pissed at her. Great. Way to go Y/N, she thought, kicking a stray rock down the street and she walked back to their hotel. Just as she reached the hotel, she spotted Dean leaning against the wooden fence at the O.K. Corral. He looked deep in thought so she let him be and walked up to their room. She shed out of her suit, carefully placing it back on the hanger and in the garment bag. Y/N dropped to the bed and curled up into a ball, letting the tears fall for everything she had just lost.

She groggily blinked her eyes open, the sun shining too brightly through the lace curtains. Dean was sitting in a chair too small for his large frame, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. She walked over to where he sat, kneeling in front of him.

“Dean I am so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have faked a case, but I just wanted some time with you. I thought this would be the perfect spot to get away. Forget all the shit we’ve been through this year. You’re always taking care of me and I just wanted to do something nice for you for once. I’m sorry,” she sniffed, the tears coming back.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to get away? If you had led with that, I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat!” Dean looked down at her, crying at his feet. “Why go to all the trouble?”

“Because of you, Dean. You do everything for me. You’re always looking out for me whether you realize it or not. You feed and clothe me. You and Sam took me in without question and gave me a home and a family,” she cried.

“Because that is what you do for someone you love, Y/N.”

“I’m so sor - wait. What did you say?” she blinked rapidly, thinking that it would somehow improve her hearing. She thought she heard Dean say he loved her.

“I have been such a chicken shit! Ever since that damn djinn hunt, I’ve been lying to myself, to you. I shoulda said something, but I was afraid I was going to lose you,” Dean confessed, sliding from the chair and dropping to his knees in front of her. “I love you. I think I have since you burst into our lives. I can’t imagine mine without you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It seemed so surreal, she laughed. She laughed until there were tears in her eyes for good reasons. “Oh my God, Dean. I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Those are the sweetest words you could ever say to me.”

“Care to enlighten me, Sweetheart?” Dean didn’t look amused.

“Yeah, yeah. I, um, I planned this trip a couple months ago. I brought you here on the false pretense of a case because I felt I needed an excuse and I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you how I really felt. I love you, Dean. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me in my stupid life and just needed you to know,” she smiled up at him.

“I’m so glad you planned this. I love you, Y/N,” Dean whispered, leaning in. He pressed his lips to hers softly, testing the waters. Y/N reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulled him closer. She returned his kiss with vigor, pulling back from him only to catch her breath.

Dean leaned his forehead on hers. “For smart people, we’re pretty stupid. I coulda been kissing, and doing other things to you, this whole time.”

“No time like the present,” she grinned, kissing his lips once more.

“Can we still go to all the places and see all the things? There isn’t anyone I would rather experience Tombstone with than you,” Dean professed.

“I’m your Huckleberry,” she whispered. The trip may not have started the way she planned, but it certainly was turning out better than she could have dreamed of.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl  @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk  @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @hunterscabin @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @docharleythegeekqueen @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever

BTZ Crew: @katymacsupernatural @pinknerdpanda @hannahindie @chelsea072498

[lilaclily00]

The Party That Went From Haunted to Worse: A Summerween Tale

Danny hates his life sometimes. And ghost portals. And his little sister. It’s a mistake going anywhere with her.

-_-_-_

I thought this was going to just... never see the light of day like most of my WIPs, but AU!Ghost August (Day 11: Crossover) gave me the drive to actually continue, finish, and post this monstrosity. Thanks for the excuse to put this out to the world!

This is the original post for the OC, and here’s the link to this story on AO3.

There's some Zalgo Text in here, so at the end I’ll have the... translations? Is that the right word? It looks better in AO3, though. :(

Thank you for helping me with this, @goinggoblin!!!

LET’S GOOO

-_-_-_ (I don’t think there’s horizontal lines anymore? Yikes)

Dani—known as Ellie around here—handed over the last of the fake spider-webbing. “There you go, Mabel.”

Mabel cheerfully thanked her from the ladder rungs, then turned back to stick it to the wall. “Now time for the paper stuff!”

“Are you sure it's okay to just...” Danny gestured around at the incomplete decorations strung around the designated party room.

Mabel waved him off over her shoulder, tacking up a cutesy paper skeleton onto the wall with her other hand, then a sheet ghost next to it. “Of course! We invited you!”

Ellie nudged Danny—well, it was much too hard of an elbowing to be classified as a nudge by most people, but not for them. “Lighten up, bro. It's not very often you get to go to parties, right?”

“Yeah. I know.” He knew she didn't mean his popularity—the fact it didn't exist—but that he just didn't have the time or energy for it most of the time. He wouldn't have gone to anything like this if she hadn't dragged him along as an excuse to take a break from ghost hunting.

Back in junior year, she’d sent him letters and photos from one of her longest stops in her travels, a dinky town called Gravity Falls, Oregon. She became good friends with a pair of twins around her age there, and they all stayed in touch afterwards. The twins invited her to hang out plenty since then, but this was the first time she told Danny to come along.

He had a complicated relationship with Halloween, considering the Fright Knight incident and all the kids and even adults that had started dressing up as Phantom (to varying levels of success and cringe). However, he had to admit he was intrigued with the idea of Summerween, especially when it was so far from Amity Park that its ghosts and fanbase would be very unlikely to interfere.

 Even just thinking that, though, made him wonder if he just jinxed himself.

 “Mabel,” they heard her twin call from the residential part of the Mystery Shack, “there's something wrong with the wig!”

 Mabel shook her spiky, blue-haired head, hands on her red-uniformed hips. “No, there isn't! I would know!” She wagged her finger towards the visiting pair. “I'll go help him, so don't go anywhere!” She ran off, nearly tripping over her own costume.

 “They really like to play up the twin thing, huh?” Danny asked his little sister in the silence. Someone had to acknowledge that the party's hosts were dressing up as Thing 1 and Thing 2. (He wasn’t sure what kinds of friends he suspected Ellie would make, but these two were a surprise.)

“At least they don't feel the need to be a walking pun at every opportunity,” she retorted, flipping back her Batman cape dramatically.

“I always am a walking pun. This is my truest self!” Danny gestured to his own costume, a classic zombie attire with green skin and fake blood everywhere.

“Har har.”

He looked over at the little pile of “spooky” images waiting on the top of the ladder, and took his pick of a large paper spider. He glanced back to the doorway where the twins disappeared off to, and quickly floated up to tape it to the ceiling with a grin.

“How are you going to explain how you got that there?” she giggled as he hovered back at her side.

“I won’t,” he replied smugly, touching ground. Just in time, too, as both Dipper and Mabel reappeared, now with their outfits and hair matching.

Mabel chirped, “If you guys help me with these last touches, this place will be perfect just in time for the party!”

Dipper fiddled with his sleeves, giving her a crooked smile. “At your orders, Mabes.”

-_-_-_

Danny was surprised by how many people actually showed up to what he expected to be a relatively small affair. Dipper had informed him that he and his sister lived in California for most of the year; despite that, it seemed the pair were very popular in their second home, Gravity Falls. Mabel introduced him to several of her friends, shouting over the loud pop music booming out the speakers, and he didn’t remember a single name.

Da—Ellie, he kept forgetting to call her that—was familiar with quite a few people, too. She stuck close to her big brother, though, until he ordered her to hang out with her friends instead. He appreciated the sentiment, but he could handle being by himself at a party.

Right?

He tried to dance for a few songs, but it wasn’t feeling natural. He then went to the refreshment tables for a jack-o-lantern cupcake. Maybe he needed to try to socialize after all. Hm, that one redheaded girl Mabel introduced to him seemed cool. He scanned the area for her face—

Wait. 

His eyes narrowed, studying the long white hair halfway across the room. It wasn’t as glowy as usual, but he’d know that hair anywhere. He pocketed the cupcake wrapper and pushed his way through the crowd. Finally, his ghost sense said something as he crossed the dance floor.

"Hey, ghost girl!" he shouted over the music. Her head turned 180 like an owl, pigtails following slightly slower than physics demanded, then she calmly turned the rest of her body to him. Her ever-present blank, wide-eyed stare bored into him, and never strayed, as she easily swerved around the dancing kids toward him. He noticed that she made an effort of walking on the ground rather than floating.

"Hi, zombie," she replied, the slightest smile on her face showing she knew exactly who she was talking to. She was never really scared of him or angry at him. If anything, she seemed to like talking to him. He supposed it was because he was among the closest to her physical age in the Ghost Zone.

He was not going to be friendly, though, and showed it by crossing his arms at her. "What are you doing here?"

She clasped her hands behind her back. "I’d like to ask you that. You hardly ever leave your lair.”

Danny scrunched his eyebrows, then glanced around in case anyone heard her. “Do you mean Amity Park?”

“Yeah.”

He frowned warily. Considering their past interactions, it seemed like a genuinely curious question. She wasn’t the type to use his absence as a chance to cause chaos back home. (If only the other ghosts were the same way.) “I got invited to hang out here for the weekend. And I don’t think it counts as my lair.”

“I think it does,” she replied with the barest of shrugs, still staring at him, unblinking. “I’m here ‘cause a door opened up in the woods right by here," she added. "There was a flyer for this party taped up on a tree. It said there was gonna be cookies."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "You can't even eat human cookies." She finally blinked as that registered, and her gaze broke to look at the ground as she wilted under the weight of her disappointment. Drama queen. "And I know you're planning to scare the kids here, if you haven't already started. C'mon, let's go."

"What?" She flicked her eyes back up to him, igniting a small light in her irises, disrupting her otherwise unglowy appearance. Her entire face slowly, ever so slowly, began to twist clockwise on her head. "It's Summerween!"

He held up a hand; he knew exactly what she was going to argue. "I know it's like Halloween, but it's still the wrong date. We agreed on no mass hauntings outside of October 31st."

Her eyebrows just so slightly scrunched, about the closest she could get to looking angry. "This isn't a very big party."

He had to give her that; it was bigger than he expected, but still only a few dozen, which potentially wasn't enough to count as a mass of people. And everyone here was around their age, which was less worrying than her chasing down little kids just for a laugh. 

Her big, empty eyes were unsettling, yet they nearly pleaded with him. He couldn't stand when she did that. He rubbed the side of his face in defeat, forgetting for a second about his zombie makeup. "Oh, fine! Only in this party. And nothing too scary. Otherwise, you go right into the thermos."

"Sounds good to me," she chirped, mouth curled into a small smile by her ear instead of her chin.

"Oh, do you guys know each other?" Danny glanced over to see the hosts themselves come from behind him. He turned back, tapping his cheek at the ghost. She knew the signal, and covered her face to recover its natural orientation.

"Kind of," he told Dipper.

The ghost girl uncovered her face, and smiled shyly at the twins. "I'm Lily. Nice to meet you." Danny raised his eyebrows at her; this whole time, she had an actual name?

"I'm Mabel! Lily, I love your costume!" Mabel squealed, hands smushing her own face. "You're so cute and creepy and ah!"

"Yeah, you did a great job," Dipper added, quiet admiration on his face as he quickly studied her appearance. Danny guessed he was wondering why the wig and body paint looked so realistic. Mabel did a fantastic job with their own costumes, but it was hard to make poofy, blue wigs not look like wigs. "I'm Dipper, by the way."

"You should totally enter the costume contest!" Mabel added, hands hovering, as if itching to reach out and inspect Lily's dress. "It’s later tonight!"

"Oh, maybe I will," she said, eyes flickering between the twins. They fixed onto Dipper when he had looked back up to her face. After a few seconds of an impromptu staring contest, Dipper turned his eyes away, blinking and glancing at Danny, unsure of himself. 

Mabel seemed to not have noticed, as she continued rambling to Lily, who patiently listened, empty eyes directed back to Mabel and small smile held up.

"She takes Halloween——er, and Summerween costumes very seriously," Danny told Dipper. "Pretty sure she'll try to creep the crap out of everybody here."

"Well, seems like she's actually good at it," the boy admitted with an awkward chuckle. "But hey, that's what this holiday is for, right?"

-_-_-_

Lily was right there, right in plain sight, swaying to the music by herself, but Danny knew she wasn’t as innocent as she looked. Even now, she was beginning her haunting.

It was just little stuff. There were a few small spiders on the fake webs, real ones. The door opened automatically for newcomers. The jack-o-lantern cupcakes, once all smiling, now had one smiling evilly in the center of the platter while the rest wore a fearful frown. She was staring blankly at Dipper at every opportunity.

Danny had fetched his thermos soon after their conversation and clipped it to his belt. He tried to distract himself by talking to people, like the girl that turned out to be named Wendy, and bopping his head to the background beat. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but keep his eye on her and her effects. Why did his problems from home have to follow him everywhere? Why did he have to jinx himself?

He felt his sister ram into his back. "Danny, I sensed a ghost!"

"Yeah, so did I. It’s the white-haired girl. I worked out a deal with her," he immediately replied, sigh heavy and beyond his years.

Da—Ellie slowly shifted into a suspicious frown. "Wait, what? What kind of deal?"

"She gets to haunt the party for the night, and will peacefully return to the Ghost Zone after." Danny wilted under her glare. "Look, sh-she's even less harmless than the Box Ghost. She's all about the scare factor, doesn't try to hurt anyone—well, maybe makes them lose their sleep if they can't handle horror movies, but still. If I don't compromise here, she'll go for much bigger plans later to spite me. I promise I know what I'm doing!"

"Since when have you known what you're doing?" She shook her head, surely knowing how very offended he was by her comment. "This just doesn't sound like you, bro."

He shrugged exaggeratedly. "She doesn't operate the same way as most ghosts."

“So that made it okay to let loose a prankster ghost on these people?”

“Well, geez, it sounds terrible if you put it like that.”

She shook her head at him again before turning away with a dramatic cape twirl. He suddenly realized she does that at him a lot.

-_-_-_

 Something was off.

 Dipper had made all the necessary precautions for a Summerween party he could think of. He had left anti-magic wards hidden around the house—not unicorn hair strong, but still effective against most of what could possibly threaten a gathering like this. He’d cleared out the trash cans so the gnomes would have no reason to stick around. He locked up Gompers in the attic (he never proved to be dangerous, but that goat was terrifying).

But then when he went to take a break by a cobwebbed corner, he found real spiders on it. A lot of real spiders. The party lights, which were supposed to change color every few seconds, got stuck on red when he passed by them. The doors creaked open ominously when anyone came near them. He went to pour out some fruit punch, and the dispenser screamed when he pressed on it.

Every time he noticed one of these things, he glanced around him and immediately found that ghost girl staring straight at him.

Dipper ran to check the nearest ward, but it was still intact. However, there was something written next to it on the wall, in red.

You think you can keep me out?

Well, that wasn’t good.

The only suspect so far was the girl—Lily, right? Perhaps she wasn’t just dressed up as a ghost after all. But she looked too solid to be a ghost, though he hadn’t seen anyone actually try to touch her yet, and these things that were happening just didn’t have the same MO as the ghosts described in the Journals or those he faced in the past. But what other kinds of supernatural creatures could do things like this? Which ones would?

Mabel poked his shoulder, startling him enough that he bumped against the wall. She didn’t laugh, however, her attention focused on his wig. Eyes narrowed, she slowly said, “Dipper, is there blood in your hair?”

He ripped the wig off his head. Red liquid seeped out of its roots, matting down the poofed hair. He hesitantly touched a finger to it and sniffed. It smelled like copper.

Mabel pulled her own off, and found the same result. Face scrunched up in disgust, she tossed it to him and ran off to the bathroom. He could hear the door creak much louder than normal even from here.

Lily was staring at him, a blank smile on her face.

A part of him chastised himself for coming to conclusions too fast, but what other conclusion was there? And performing an exorcism, if it came to that, wouldn’t hurt something that wasn’t a ghost, right?

Clearly, what he needed to do next was talk to this girl, find out her motives before her little act became big. Just in case, though, he’d need to pull out that new silver mirror first.

-_-_-_

Amity Park and Gravity Falls were not very similar, but Danny realized there was something in common between their townsfolk: they were somewhat clueless. Not that he eavesdropped that much into the different conversations on the edges of the dance floor, but it seemed hardly anyone had noticed the odd tension in the air, the invisible slimy feeling on their skin of the supernatural hiding in their midst. Something coming.

Or, well, that that paper spider he stuck to the ceiling had grown several times its original size and crawled over one of the ceiling lights.

Ellie was consoling Mabel, who stood by the refreshments without her wig on. She glanced over to him a couple times just to glare.

He was trying to not keep his focus on Lily too much for his own sanity, but his eyes didn’t listen to his brain. They kept roaming the crowd to keep track of her. She looked like she wasn’t doing anything, but…

The eyes of the various wall decorations followed him wherever he went. Distant screaming could barely be heard over the music, if he tried to listen, but it came from nowhere. More spiders poured out of abandoned plastic cups. (She really liked that aesthetic, apparently.) 

He only caught her in the act once at the refreshments table: she studied one of the Halloween-colored M&M cookies in her hand and threw it into her mouth. After a second, she pulled it back out, staring at it like it was the cause of all her problems. She disintegrated the cookie she couldn’t eat. When she turned away, all the other cookies had turned into oatmeal raisin.

How evil.

“Hey, Danny?”

He blinked and turned to see Wendy. She quirked her eyebrow at him. “What’s got you making that constipated face?”

He blinked at her even harder and she laughed. He huffed, scratching at his hair. “There’s just weird stuff going on.”

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed, “this party’s totally haunted.”

“Actually—” He had enhanced hearing, and he still wasn’t sure he heard that right. “Yeah, it is. You noticed?”

“Well, it was kinda hard to ignore.” She nodded to herself. “I thought I heard creepy laughing coming from the bathroom and there was nobody there. ‘I’m here’ was written on the mirror in blood, though. Once I came back out, more stuff just kept popping up. There’s definitely a ghost.”

Danny frowned. “And… why aren’t you freaked out?”

“Well, same reason you aren’t. Dipper’s gonna take care of it.”

Alarm bells rang in his head, drowning out that distant screaming. “What do you mean ‘take care of it’?”

She tilted her head quizzically. “Don’t you already know him? This is totally Dipper’s thing, knowing about the supernatural and saving people from it. He already took down ghosts before. He’s probably getting everything ready for an exorcism or something right now.”

Exorcism. Exorcism. His skin crawled at that word. Ellie was friends with a kid that performed exorcisms in his spare time?

He remembered that Lily had been pulling that constant-stare thing on Dipper before. She had stopped at some point, which meant Dipper was out of sight, which meant maybe he really was planning something to get rid of her. Permanently.

Wendy said, “Hey, man, you okay?” just loud enough to bring him back out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, uh, just need to find Dipper,” he muttered, turning away and quickly searching the room for his face. Where was that kid, where was he, where was he—?

He hadn’t noticed that the music had slowly quieted down until Mabel was shouting by the DJ table. “Hey, everybody! We’re gonna start the costume contest in five minutes! Come over here if you wanna be in it!” The lights flickered for a couple seconds. “Oh, that���s new! We’ll get Soos to fix ‘em!”

Okay, there’s Mabel. Where there’s Mabel, there’s likely a Dipper. Or maybe an Ellie. He figured he should probably talk to her, too, even if she’ll give him that look again, wondering how she shared the exact same DNA with his doofus self.

-_-_-_

Mabel watched as the chatter grew louder with her hands on her hips. “There you go, Dipdop, I moved up the contest. The sacrifices I make to my carefully planned schedules for you!” She turned back to the playlist and rose the volume. The song sounded strangely distorted and screechy and demented, causing everyone to cover their ears. She quickly stopped the music. “But I guess you’re right that things are getting out of hand.”

Yes, he was. The freaky little instances seemed to have gotten worse in the few minutes he had spent grabbing the mirror and Journal 3 upstairs. The fastest way to find the ghost: have her come to him.

Grenda and Candy came running up in their matching “party animals” costumes, along with a couple other kids they barely knew. Danny rushed to the table, eyes wide and much more awake than any zombie had the right to be. Dipper opened his mouth, about to turn that into an actual joke, but Danny beat him.

“Do you know anything about ghosts?” The words practically tumbled out of Danny’s mouth.

Dipper raised his eyebrows. “Well, yeah.”

“And how to defeat them?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your plan?”

Dipper considered Danny’s strangely serious face. Then, he said, “Make her come out, find out her motives and if there’s something we can do to make her leave. Trap her away if she doesn’t want to, and exorcise her as a last resort.”

Danny set his frown grimmer and grimmer as he spoke. The lights flickered. “I think you need to reconsider the severity of this haunting. I can’t let you—”

Click.

The lights all went out, and the room was an inkier black than it should’ve been on a warm summer Oregon night. Large objects screeched as they dragged across the floor, bumping into people. Dipper felt something crawl over his feet, heard the table in front of him slide away. Just over the random yelps and screams of the attendees, a dark laughter rang.

 They flicked back on. The tables, speakers, and party lights were all randomly located throughout the room. The attendees were stunned to silence, taking some seconds before their chatter began anew as they inspected their new surroundings.

 A girl with a white wig (it had to be her real hair) and painted blue skin (she didn’t have skin) slipped through the crowd, glancing between the three with that little smile gracing her face. “Can I join the costume contest?”

 Dipper couldn’t stop himself from setting a glare on her, gripping tighter the silver mirror behind his back. Mabel, who had more tact, plastered a grin on and said, “Of course! I invited you to do it, didn’t I?”

 Lily nodded and quietly took her place by Candy, who was not the only contestant staring at her warily. She ignored them all, eyes unfocused as she fiddled with one of her pigtails.

 Dipper glanced back over to Danny from the corner of his eye. “I think you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told him quietly. “Just let me do my job.”

“Your job?” Danny hissed in return, far more offended than Dipper expected him to be. “Just let me talk to her—”

“What, do I look like I haven’t done this before?”

Danny tugged at his hair. “Listen to me! You need to change your plan!”

All the paper decorations promptly dropped from the walls, fluttering to the floor, except for the cutesy ghosts.

Mabel shouted over their quiet arguing, “Last call if you want to be in the contest!”

Ellie strode up, determination in her footsteps as she lined up beside Lily.

-_-_-_

Now that the music wasn’t playing, Danny could see people inspecting their surroundings a little more. Now that she wasn’t hidden among the crowd, Danny could see a few of those people second-guess Lily, watching her rock back and forth on her feet with a calculating eye. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. If there was anyone else here like Dipper...

He had to give up on talking sense into the kid because the contest was starting. Mabel was doing it by applause, and he couldn’t hear anything else over it.

Mabel wrote down on a notepad (though he had no clue what she’d be writing down), nodding thoughtfully to herself. “Looks like it’s between Count Dracula,” she shouted, gesturing with her pen to a kid in an elaborate vampire costume then to Lily, “and the ghost! One more vote decides the winner!”

The other contestants moved aside, but not too far. Ellie glanced over to Danny as she stepped back a couple feet. She was planning something, he knew it. With how mad she was at him, he had the distinct feeling he should be running for what remained of his life.

Dipper pulled Danny’s arm back as the applause rang again. When it stopped, he spoke in a dangerously low voice. “You said you knew her. You said she would try to scare everyone.”

Danny bit his lip for a second. “I did say something like that, huh?”

Quiet fury grew in Dipper’s eyes. “Well, fine. If you’re not going to do anything—” The rest was drowned out by the applause roaring up again, startled shouts mixed in as the lights flickered again, but Danny could guess, and his heart dropped to his stomach as Dipper turned away without giving him a chance to reply.

“Dracula wins!” Mabel announced, and a cheer rose up once again. “But the rest of you were great, too!”

Ellie stepped back up to Lily when the claps died back down. “Sorry you lost,” she said.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she replied amicably. “It wouldn’t really be fair if I won, anyway. I’m not a̙͈ ͖̩̠̬c̯͔̼t͚̮̗̙u̟͖͕a̻͙ ̼ll͙̙͎y̹ ̬͔̣̻̣w̠e̞̤ͅ ̪̖̦̤͍ͅ ̥ar͙͈i͈̳̰̜n̪̼̮ ͈ ̟̫͍̰͍ͅg̱ͅ ̟ ̦͇͓̻̹͇̼ ̝̯̦ ̹̬̟̱ ̭͈̠͇̟͖ ̗̤̯̮̭ a̬̯̰̦̞̪ͅ ̣̜͖ͅ ̬͚̪̫͎̰ c̫̗ ̜͕͕͇̤ ̤o ̥̮̺s̹̜͕͇t̬̘̮̼ ̗̞̥̣̖̼ ͇ ̣͓̹ u̹͖̙͙͇̠ ̼͉͓̰͙ ̝̯͍͙͍͓ ̭ ̤ ̖̠̠̙͖̮͕ ̜͔͔̮ ̖ ͚̤ͅ ̤ ̪̤̖͓̘͉ͅ ̭̳̜m̦̼̲̫ ̲̫͔̳̮͎ ̖̩̝̙̦͇ ̲̯̠͙̬ ̝ ̠͔̼͈͖ ̰̹ ̘͎̺̗ ̳̠̫̳̻̥ ̥͚̙͈̠͙ ̪̖͎̳̻ ͔͉̰͈̳ ̠ ͇̺̫ ͚̲̻̥͚͎̣ ̖̫̖̭ͅͅ ̩ ̩e͙͍͎̙̺̜.͇͍̩”

Lily’s hair and dress floated, revealing blobs of ectoplasm instead of legs. The lights went out, then returned in a dim, red hue. She was already up in the air, eyes glowing, face twisting. She raised her arms, and objects began to float at her command. Attendees screamed, almost loud enough to not hear the unsettling laughter coming from all sides. A couple of them tried to leave, but the door wouldn’t budge.

“Hey!” Dipper shouted as he ran to her. He was holding a… small mirror? “What do you want, ghost?”

She abruptly turned her head to him, face upside-down. Her voice had a demonic overtone as she replied, “T͍̝o̗͙ͅ ̥m͈a͕̲k̶̼͙̻e̼̟̼ ̳̱y̨o҉͎̹u͔͇̬͟ ̼s̹̙cr͉̦͇̮̭͇͡e̺͓͖̱̤̗a̪͙͓̩̮͟m͢.͎̮̳̱̬̯”

“Come on, there has to be something else,” he insisted, hand gripping the mirror harder. Danny inched his way; that mirror had to be a trap of some kind, and he wasn’t going to let Dipper use it—not when Danny didn’t know if he could get her back out of it.

“I know what you don’t want,” Ellie shouted, holding out a Fenton Thermos. Wait—Danny felt for the thermos on his belt. It was gone. She stole his thermos. How did he not notice until now?!

Lily stared her down, but she didn’t look scared. “Y̘o̺͎͖̱u̖̜̳̭̺ ̸̣̭̥̦͉̙̭s̝͢h̨o͙̞u̠͓̰̙͉l̡͉̠̗̣̥̗d̯̩̮̦̯͎̗’̨v̰̘̹͞e̙͉̘̦̱ ̶̙us̻̩̪͎̝̯e̯̱̜̬̮̝̫d͕͢ ì̟t̗̻̬̯͕̪͘ ̝͉w̹̤̫h̞̼̫̹̘̲͍͢e̖ņ̦̹̬̣̫̱ ̗̟̺y̵̬̤͖͓̖o̰̯̪̟̼̥u̟̩̰̙͢ ̝̖͕̗́h̪̰͝a̖͍̲͉͡d͕̹ ͙͖̬͉͟t̻̗̠͈̝h͚͚̜̖͎̕ͅe̼̰͍ ̰̲̪̥c͏̟̞̝͓̫h̗̤͚̲͔̼a̯͎̳͇͙̝͈n̦̥̜̹͘ͅc̳̭ȩ,” she answered, holding her hand out at Ellie. She began to float off the ground, yelping as she flailed her arms and legs in the air. She lost her grip on the thermos as she suddenly began to spasm, as if fighting off a—no, she couldn’t be.

She stilled, eyes closed, then opened them. They were glowing ecto-green. She was dull and slack-jawed, staring off at nothing.

Danny couldn’t help the dread trickling into his chest. She wasn’t really...?

He stepped towards her, and she... glanced down at him? Oh, she didn’t.

She winked.

She did.

Danny felt a thrill of anger run through him—how could his own clone decide to act possessed and make all of this worse? (When did those two even get to plan this?!) It was clearly working, with how all the partygoers stared at her in horror, looking like they were about to pass out. 

“A̛̫̙̮n͏y̗͇o̩̝͇̫n͖̜̬͇͖͖e̳ ̣̱̙̭͓e̤͚͉͉̮l̢̞̦̟s͎̱͍͍̩e̪̭͘ ͈͡w͖͚̩̹͉͢a͇͔̘ņ͎̟̣̫n͈͉̕a̷̟̝̯̬͚  ̭̱͉̟͔͘p̷̙̬̮̫̲͈̞̼͇̜͇̎̐͊ͨͅ  l̜͖̲̀̇̚  ̼ ̤̄ a͙̻̲̰͂̋ͦ̎͌̏ ̬̘͍ͯ͝   ̙͎͚̊̆̆ͨ̚ ̝̟̎͑͐ͬ́ỵ̶͉͉̳ͨͥ̌͋̓ͅ         ̖͉͓̙ͮ͌̑ͤ̽?̡͎̦̭̩̙̰͎”

Danny was about to dive for the thermos and suck both of them in (Ellie absolutely deserved it too, now), but he saw Dipper holding up the mirror and beginning a chant from a thick book. He had to take care of that first. He tackled the boy to the ground. The mirror slid away, unbroken, and both of them scrambled to get up and grab it first. Danny won, barely, and Dipper tackled him in return.

“Give me that!” Dipper growled, furiously trying to pull the mirror out of Danny’s hands.

Danny elbowed him away. “No, we need to use the thermos!”

“Why?!”

 “Because—” he grunted as Dipper kicked him surprisingly hard— “it’ll work better!”

“And why should I believe you? You don’t care about stopping her!”

 “I never said I didn’t!” Dipper paused his fighting. “I said to change your plan because she doesn’t deserve to be killed or trapped forever, and I already know that!” Danny pushed the other boy off of him and stood up, brushing himself off. “The longer we argue, the more she’ll make everyone pee their pants.”

 “Okay, fine, we’ll use your thermos thing,” Dipper grumbled as he pushed himself back to standing. He sobered as he saw food flying around and Ellie still floating there, gawking into space. “You better be right.”

 “Of course I am.” 

Danny sprinted for the thermos. He turned it on the second his hand touched it. Lily and Ellie apparently heard its mechanical whine, as they both glanced at him, Lily wide-eyed in a different way than usual.

“I̙̻̺’̩͍m͇͔͢ ͅṋ̰̮̦͎͡ͅo̞̤t̩̯̰̖̱͖͖ ͞f͚̜̙͢ǐ̭͉͓͈̅͗ͥͅn̝̯̻͎̣̰̱̅i̮̹͔̲ͨͥ̋̆̕s̓̽ͤ͑̋҉̜͈̱̪h̤͉̫̭͍̒͆̉̈̊̐e̵͈̣͖dͧ͏͎͍̻ ̖͙́̇̒͛ẅ̘̠̤̤̭̒̾͟ḭ̩͈̥̬̅ͪt̰͇̟̹͖͂ͪͪ͋͟ḩ̝̯̖̤͉ͬ́͌—”

He gave her an apologetic look as he pulled the lid off. She let out a chilling, unnatural scream as she was sucked in, the finale to her entire performance. 

Everything that had been floating crashed down, the lights flicked back to their usual white, and the laughing died off. Ellie fell to the floor, rubbing at her head and looking around as if dazed (that little liar).

“Are you okay?” Mabel cried as she ran to Ellie’s side, just as Dipper came up to him and asked, “Are you sure she can’t get out?”

“Yeah,” Danny replied, knocking his knuckles against it. “I’ll let her out in the Ghost Zone.”

“The Ghost Zone?”

He found himself explaining it halfmindedly, the rest of him focused on inspecting the party. It looked like everything really was back to normal, minus the rearranged room and food that fell to the floor.

“That’s amazing!” Dipper’s eyes sparkled, and Danny could finally see what Wendy meant about him wanting to know the supernatural, too. “I have so many questions!”

Danny suddenly suspected he’d be here a long time if those questions started now. “How about you write them down and I’ll tell you about it when the party’s over?”

He was surprised that Dipper agreed so easily, running off to grab Mabel’s pen. With that, he snuck out of the party, thermos in hand.

-_-_-_

Danny took the lid off again, watching as Lily reformed. She stretched her arms over her head with a sigh. He rubbed at his neck. “Sorry about trapping you, I didn’t really have a better choice.”

"That was still really fun!" She giggled, with the biggest smile Danny had ever witnessed her pulling. Her coloring shifted back to how she usually looked in the Ghost Zone, with purple hair, gray-black skin, and her dress bleached from black to bright white. She was officially out of her “scare-mode”, it seemed.

He huffed. "If you tone it down next time, and not include my sister in your schemes, I might not have to resort to it again.” He glanced around. “Well, time for you to go home. Is that portal still open?"

"Perhaps." Lily floated into the forest, and Danny warily followed. 

Only a few minutes passed before they came across a long rip in the air, carved out in front of one of the many trees, shining ecto green like a bleeding wound. One of its neighbor trees wore a sparkly Summerween party flyer.

"See you later, Phantom!” Lily chirped. “Oh, and let Mabel know her cookies were good!" She paused to wave, her grin lingering on her face turned counterclockwise, then flew through. 

Danny watched the portal until it closed; luckily, it only took a minute or two to stitch the fabric of reality back together, leaving no trace. Well, except for his nerves being fried for the night.

He was not looking forward to Ellie’s smug grin. 

It’s a mistake going anywhere with her.

-_-_-_

Zalgo Text:

"I'm not actually wearing a costume."

"To make you scream."

"You should've used it when you had the chance."

"Anyone else wanna play?"

"I'm not finished with—"

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Pieces of the People We Love, Part 6. (The Borderlands Series)

Description: Not many people had the chance to see a vault or to mean anything in the world of Pandora. Will a hardly built relationship in the loneliness of the desert have the potential to change anything in the world of anarchy and chaos - or will the friends try to murder each other?

Chapter description: The journey is destined to be - or at least, so it seems. Alongside Scooter and your two favorite bandits, you had to leave the Hells Cauldron behind your back.

Warnings: A lot of guns, violence, reader is a tough badass - not a vault hunter tho. They’re badass and don’t give a fuck. And Scooter is a dumb bitch, as always. All Psychos and Fanatics are various Vine references - oh, what luck that reader can understand them since she is friends with Bandits.

Word count: 2.1 K

Tagging: @notaliteraltoad​, @nemodoren​

Series master list:  H E R E

Shortly after what Walrus had told you, the Bandits lead you to their monstrous truck. At least he made Blindy and Rayray go with you and not some random idiots.

As Peter promised, they even packed you some food, money, and munition to go with. But there was something weirdly odd about Peter being so nice - if you would come alone, he would never help you. You were one hundred percent sure of that.

"What you're after, Walrus?" - You asked him quietly, aside from the boys, just before you were set to go on your journey. - "You don't do any of this just to warm your heart, do you? You're not such a good person. I know you, my man."

"Vaults are rumored to hold treasures with enormous value. Be a dear and grab me some while you'll be at it, will you?" - Walrus patted your shoulder with a fatherly smile. Of course. That motherfucker. He was a sly one - not caring that much about Scooter, his well being and meeting with his friends. All he cared about was the vault. And its treasures.

"I am not a VH, how many times I'm going to tell you? Scooter isn't one either, he's just... A local mechanic. That's what he truly is." - You tried to talk him down to let you just take your hands off the whole deal. But you knew how much could Peter be persistent.

"But you were aspiring to be one when you listened to all the podcasts on your ECHO from that guy named Tyron or what... Or am I wrong? Correct me." - The midget looked you right in the eyes. You could just murder him, take the car and then leave Scooter alone to continue his journey.

"I was ten, Peter. Vault Hunters aren't nothing but a bunch of posers. And you know that. How anyone like me ever got the chance to at least get closer to a thing like a vault?" - You mumbled, moving your metal arm uncomfortably. Vault hunters were a great part of the reason why did you had your metal arm in the first place. Damn monster hunting.

"Come on. It's an adventure, it's fun and you have a hell of debt in my bank. You have to do this. And if you'll be a naughty girl, Cowboy, my boys will drag you back to me." - He smiled and with his guards, four extra-armed psychos turned back to The Throne Room. You wanted to yell, shout, shot and kill something. Or somebody.

But you kept it all in and turned to crawl into their truck, to sit on one of the benches. You looked at Rayray who seemed to be extremely happy. Was there a reason for that?

"What? You reached the fourth quarter or what's your problem?" - You mumbled while Blindy and Scooter were settling down in the front of the car. Scooter seemed to be overly fascinated by their car type, so you just rolled your eyes and let him be.

"Back at it at Krispy Kreme." - He answered simply and you closed your eyes, laid down on the bench and prepared yourself for some sleep. It was only proper since it was already around midnight.

"Oh yeah, this is going to be a hell of a road trip, I tell you that." - You answered ironically and closed your eyes.

The next four days were a hell of a time to think. You were changing on the steering wheel pretty periodically - you were driving from the morning to midday, Scooter took the wheel after lunch to evening, Rayray was driving until midnight and Blindy himself was driving until you woke up.

You had... Fun. That was as unnatural as it seemed, but you had some fun. Sometimes, they randomly stopped from the quest to find Janey Springs, the most famous rocket engineer on Pandora, when they saw an interesting lookout. One night, you even took a short break in a local pub to have some beer and small talk. Rayray wasn't too happy about that since he had to stay sober.

To your surprise, these guys were fun. They were telling you stories and answered every question you had - you played poker with them one night. And Scooter himself wasn't too bad. He even snatched your playlist from the car you drove into Ham's Creek, so you could jam around to Rapture while driving.

You drove through deserts, forests, mountains which were snowy and even through the miles and miles of Eridium-cracked lands, where Eridium was in huge rocks around the way. And then you drove through even more deserts. It got repetitive over the week, yeah, but as you checked, the COV was still preparing to set to Athenas. Wherever Scooter's vault hunters were, they still didn't have the chance to kill them. Which was good.

After a whole week in their car, you finally reached the destination. It was a town in a cave, very far away from where you started your journey. Its name was Hollow Point and your rocket engineer was supposed to be there.

"Okay man, I will take ya to ma old workshop which I owned with Janey before I, you know, died. Be nice to them, okay?" - Scooter looked especially at you and you rolled your eyes. You weren't about to chew their heads away or anything. You just wanted that damn rocket.

"Fine. I won't try to kill her if she looks at me. Happy?" - You rolled your eyes like a professional and Scooter sighed at your behavior. You were now allies - you weren't friends, but wouldn't get him killed either. It was a thin ice situation, but at least it was something.

"Ya can try, but her girlfriend won't approve that and maybe cuts ya skull opened up with her shield. She's like scary-scary shit. Be aware. Ya shotgun won't help ya against Athena." - He warned you and your small party slowly went down the hill to Hollow Point. It was a silent town - there was a human being here and there, but overall, nothing was happening.

It was almost a ghost town. There was a small pub which you walked as far away from as you possibly could because of its stink and exterior. There was a doctor's office and a gun shop - but it was people you never heard of. Some sister Nina and Mrs. Gunslinger.

Suddenly, everyone stopped in front of a closed mechanic's garage. There was Scooter's name on it, but the light wasn't shining. The shop looked to be closed for a long time now, full of boxes and webs. You didn't like that feeling that anyone's home.

"Is Janey totally supposed to be here?" - You looked inside and made sure that the hat won't fall off your head. There was no one. - "Scooter, did you just dragged us through the whole Pandora to look at your old, abandoned workshop?"

"No, no, no, I swear to God! She's here, man. I'm super duper sure." - Scooter looked scared at you because he knew that you're furious at that moment.

"You think I'm gonna believe you such bullshit? Oh, you're so in trouble now. I thought we're allies!" - You rose your eyebrows and demanded the explanation with the way you stood.

"We are! Janey is here, we just need to find her. Be patient, Cowboy." - He was still walking backward, and now, you for him in a tight corner. An ideal place to kill him. And you were about to.

"Imma about to kill you, Scooterboy, Imma about to kill you so hard." - You rose your hand to pick up the shotgun on your back, clenching your jaws together. Just as you loaded the gun, something flew next to your head, you were barely able to somehow jump to the side.

"What are you two doing here? We don't kill people here since three years ago." - A robotic voice spoke to you from the darkness. You tried to search for the source, but that someone was hidden in the shadows. - "The mayor doesn't have enough money to rent the Hyperion machines. What are you doing in front of my garage?" - The person put their hand high and a red light started to shine on her forearm. The thing flew directly back and clicked silently at that moment.

"See? I told ya that Janey and Athena would still be here, man." - Scooter got up from the corner and ran away from you as possible. - "Thanks for savin' ma life, Athena. Nice to see ya, ya still kissin' a lot with Janey?" - He disappeared to the darkness to greet someone. When he came back to your small group again, a woman was standing next to him.

She looked dangerous in some way. Let's face it - she was terrifying. But staying in your character, you just pressed your lips together and furrowed at her.

The woman, whom Scooterboy was calling Athena, had violet hair and a cute face. But the cute face and big eyes weren't making her any less not dangerous looking. She may be thin, but those thighs were enough to snap your neck instantly. You took a few steps back and fused the shotgun again.

"Is it you, Scooter?" - She snapped the next moment and wondered. Then Athena put a hand on his shoulder and carefully scanned his face with her eyes. - "We thought you're dead, oh my lord?" - She mumbled unbelievably and hugged him. She truly knew him, but no way she had something with Scooter. Athena was out of his league.

"And no way I'm going to answer your question. And don't ever touch me again, please." - She mumbled and turned at you, Blindy and Rayray standing in the background. You were pretty taken away by the way Athena embraced Scooter. - "Who that?"

"Ma new friends, Athena, say hi. That's Cowboy and she has a few temper issues and a hothead. Those men, they are Bandits, but like... Cool ones, ya get it? One name's Rayray and the other one's Blindy. They saved me and help me to find you two." - Scooter pointed all of you proudly and you nodded to Athena, clipping the shotgun back on your back. Boys were clearly too scared of her, so they just acknowledged her person.

"Nice to meet y'all. I suppose you're searching for Janey?" - Athena walked to one of the building's door and opened up the door. There was some music playing inside while Scooter and Athena were chatting. Athena seemed to be in a good mood just because Scooter showed up.

Your deal with Walrus suddenly came upon your mind - maybe Scooter was a truly close friend of the vault hunters and could get you close, after all? That would be nice. Janey and Athena could ride back home just like that. That would be incredible.

Janey was in the back dancing in a rhythm of some rock song, not paying attention that someone entered the building. She had a messy garage, you needed to say that - oil was everywhere, just as her stuff tossed around like wrenches and shit. Janey was a genius at her worst - genius, but messy as fuck.

"I bring you a surprise, dear." - Athena sighed and trailed off to the next door, leaving you there with Janey.

From under the car, a blonde woman rolled on a small skateboard or whatever it was. You noticed the scars on her uncovered belly, neck and arm; she was probably set on fire or some other shit. That was freaking you out a bit. Janey was apparently a strong woman.

But when she stood up to look at you, she looked like a little loving pure ball of smile and energy.

"Hey, what can I do for ya?" - Janey cleaned up her fingers with a cloth thrown over her shoulder. Her stare almost ended up on you, but then she noticed Scooter standing there. She was amazed and wonderstruck since she stopped and looked only at him. - "Have I fell asleep again?"

Then they also went into a tight hug so Janey would definitely know that he's real-real. It was a nice, friendly moment. The last thing you needed to do was to convince Janey - to build you a rocket.

[soulbranded]

drunk - from @cptsrogers

@cptsrogers – one word prompts

drunk :   my  muse  takes  care  of  your  muse  while  they  are  in  a  drunken  state. (I reversed this since Steve can’t get drunk.) 

Christ, Rachel missed Denver. She missed the mountains and the hint of wildness that was always in the air, like the city couldn’t ever quite tame the land it occupied. She missed the Blue Moon where Will gave her free drinks and saved her a booth in the corner, she missed her Unabomber cabin, she missed the weird ass art downtown, she missed the yellows of the aspens and the way the city glittered against the yawning darkness.

Most of all, she missed good whiskey. Whatever this was, it tasted like shit. 

Rachel sat in some dive bar in…well, she didn’t know precisely where she was, because everything in New York looked the same to her. It was one never-ending hellscape of skyscrapers and people, pushing in on her until she couldn’t breathe. Brooklyn, Queens, Manhattan–it was all the fucking same. She hated it. It made her shoulder blades itch and her magic taste like gasoline, but she was needed here. Here was where the fight was, a fight with no weapons, no soldiers, no fists. Only victims.

“Hey, another,” she said, a little more harshly than she intended, and the bartender refilled her glass. She knocked it back in one drink. It was her sixth, or maybe seventh, and her face was going numb and the world was starting to blur at the edges. Paranoia crept at the edges of her mind, disguising itself as violence, but there weren’t any takers. Guess nobody thought a pocket-sized redhead was worth the effort. They certainly wouldn’t be the first. 

“Didn’t take you for a day drinker.” 

She didn’t look at him, only signaled the bartender for another round. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Add it to the list.” 

Steve slid onto the barstool next to her, sitting sideways with his elbow on the counter so he was facing her. She pointedly ignored him. 

“What happened?”

Rachel scowled. Couldn’t he go be Mr. Fantastic somewhere else? “What makes you think anything happened?”

“You’re drunk in public, when you don’t get drunk, in the South Bronx, which is pretty much asking for someone to mug you. Call it an educated guess,” he said.

She finally looked at him–sideways, half glaring. “Is this because you’re, like, a million years old? Some folksy wisdom from the Greatest Generation?” God, she was such an asshole. Pushing at sore spots because she didn’t want to be questioned herself, trying to turn the spotlight to anything other than her own bullshit behavior. Get away from me and let me be miserable, Captain Do Right. 

Steve swiveled around on the barstool so he was looking at the bar and clasped his hands. “Yeah, I’m not buying your bullshit, Rachel. Whatever it is, you’re not going to find it at the bottom of a bottle. So how about we take a walk?”

“If I say no?”

“I’m a super soldier and you weigh a buck twenty. I’ll carry you out of here like a sack of potatoes.” 

What pissed her off was that he was right. It wasn’t safe for her to stay here, for a lot of reasons, especially now, and even though she wasn’t sure he’d make good on this threat–Steve never forced anyone into anything–she was sure he’d outlive God sitting there next to her until she talked. She regretted becoming friends with him. He could see her, she felt it. She’d lost her shield. And he was bullheaded enough that no matter how much abuse she heaped on him, he wasn’t going to leave a friend down and out. Goddammit. 

With a noise of annoyance, she snatched up her jacket from the neighboring seat and tossed some money on the counter. Only when she stood up did the alcohol really hit her. She wobbled, her feet not connecting to her brain, and tripped over thin air to crash right into Steve. He caught her easily, and wordlessly kept an arm around her waist to guide her across the sticky (what the fuck was that?) floor and up the stairs. A walk was clearly not happening, so he hailed a cab, and they rode in silence back to his apartment. Rachel thought if she just didn’t say anything, maybe he’d forget about it. Her head was spinning and panic was curdling in her chest–she couldn’t fight like this, she couldn’t protect herself, she was vulnerable, she was open to attack– 

“It’s okay,” Steve said, sitting down on the couch beside her. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She stared at him. Had she said that out loud? Could he read minds? What the fuck? He sat a glass of water on the table in front of her, and after a minute she picked it up and took a drink. The gasoline-whiskey was swarming in her stomach and the whole room was out of focus, and it would feel so good just to set everything down, if for only a moment. Her paranoia reared up again, whispering that Steve wasn’t like her, that he wasn’t safe, that he could use it against her. But it was Steve. He’d opened his door to her, allied with her, fought beside her. He was the fucking dictionary definition of Lawful Good. He’d come down to a seedy neighborhood to drag her drunk ass out of danger just because he cared. 

“The Council signed the Accords,” she finally said after a long silence. She sounded so tired. “They’re gonna put me and everyone like me on a list, and once they do that, they’ll–” She stopped and closed her eyes, tipped her head. “I refused to round up those who wouldn’t sign. They stripped my badge and put a warrant on me.” Semi-hysterical laughter bubbled up and she sagged back against the couch. “Oh Steve. You’re aiding and abetting a criminal. That’s not very patriotic of you.” 

“Let me worry about me. What does that mean for you?”

“That I’m hunted by my own people. That I’ve lost my family. That I can’t go home.” Tears burned her eyes, and she swiped angrily at them. “People are gonna get hurt, and I can’t do a fucking thing to stop it. I lost everything, and for what? Because I didn’t want to play by the rules?”

A look flashed over Steve’s face. “The Accords are more than that. You did the right thing.”

“Then why do i feel like shit?” 

“Because doing the right thing is rarely easy.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, like he’d done it a million times, and for some reason, she didn’t push it off.

“You know nobody really talks like that, right?” she said, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “You sound like you write these lines down at night just to whip them out at opportune moments.” 

He chuckled. “You’re drunk. C’mon.” He stood up and held out his hands. She took them and he pulled her to her feet like she weighed nothing. Right. Super soldier. Gently, he guided her down the hall. “You’re staying here for now. Tomorrow, we’ll figure out the next steps. Take the bed–I’ll take the couch.” 

Rachel careened even under the firm guidance of his hands, and she almost collided with a wall. “It’s not safe. I’m dangerous to you now.”

“I think I’ll survive.” 

The world went askew and she fell against him, and he half carried her into the bedroom. He pulled off her boots and set them aside, then folded back the covers of his neatly made bed. It didn’t take much for him to get her laying down, and he disappeared for a moment only to return with another glass of water.

“If you need anything, I’m just down the hall,” he said, pausing in the doorway. 

Rachel rubbed at her eyes and tried to focus on him. Everything was so goddamned blurry. “Why’re you helping me?” she asked miserably. Every old haunt, every pain, every insecurity had escaped the lead-lined box she kept them in and were on parade, and all she could think about was the feeling of cold steel between her ribs. That’s what the Accords meant. Exposure. Vulnerability. Open season on anyone who was different. She’d been a target once before, and the bullseye painted squarely on her back now left her feeling small and powerless. 

He looked like he was about to say something, and then just smiled. It was a warm thing, and it settled the demons dancing in her skull. “Because you’re my friend, and you’re not alone. Now go to sleep.” 

“It’s still light out.”

“Sleep.” He said it like an order, and she stuck her tongue out at him. Not one of her more brilliant responses, but it encapsulated her feelings pretty well. But the bed was comfortable and the sheets soft, smelling lightly of that clean scent of detergent, and the world slowed its spinning once she let herself relax and close her eyes. Steve was there. He was good. He didn’t know about Ryan, but she thought he would probably understand her fear. Yeah, he was good. Her paranoia subsided, and she let herself just drift in an alcohol haze for a while. Just before she dozed off, she thought, Steve’s here. You’re safe. You’re safe.  

[voidendron]

The Cannibal

Because Tumblr’s a fucking jackass and deleted/hid this, guess I’ll repost? Fucking-A.

Warnings:  Animal Death, Language, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Concussion, Blood/Gore, Violence, Character Death Characters: Wendigo!Bim Trimmer, Original Character

It’s rumored that the woods beyond the abandoned Incorporated are the territory of a man who stooped to eating his own kind to survive a terrible winter. No one knows if the rumors are true because no one survives an encounter to tell.

Laughter and whooping hollers as the man hoisted up his second pheasant of the day triumphantly. His brother’s dog wagged her tail as she trotted around his feet, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she looked up proudly at her retrieval.

“He’s a beaut!”

“Niiiice, Jay!”

The man, Jay, beamed at his brother and the man’s fiance. It had been years since he’d last gone hunting, and they were both decent-sized birds perfect for cooking.

Stooping to pick the other bird up that he’d set near his feet, Jay held one in either hand with his gun slung across his back. Their shadows were stretching as the sun sank below the treeline. He couldn’t help but frown as he glanced up, squinting at the receding light. Far in the distance, the silhouette of the old Incorporated painted itself into the darkening sky.

“We should head back ‘fore it gets too dark.”

The other two nodded and hoisted up their own catches and the trio, dog trotting at her master’s heels, started the trek back to their pickup. They were laughing, grinning, the brothers nudging each other and the dog giving happy little barks.

It came to a point the three stopped to dig through their light packs to retrieve headlamps, and the dog started barking at the lights. There was still a small amount of light, but it wouldn’t be much longer before they were tripping over their own feet.

“Bailey!” the men both laughed as the trio shouldered their packs and picked their guns and catches back up.

The dog now barking occasionally and chasing the lights as the trio tried not to trip over her, there was a collective sigh when they reached the truck. The temperature was dropping now, and none of them were equipped for it. Time to head home and curl up under some blankets with warm food.

The pheasants and packs were put in the bed, and Bailey lunged into the back seat as soon as a door was opened for her.

Nudging him with a sharp elbow, Jay’s brother grinned. “Not bad for an old guy.”

“Two years older than you!” Jay huffed and started patting his pockets for his cellphone. “Y’know—oh, where… Shit.” At the other two’s quizzical looks, Jay shook his head and muttered under his breath. “Oh, I must’ve dropped my phone somewhere on the trail. Just lemme go—”

“Jay, it’s dark,” the woman protested. “We can come back in the morning to look.”

“I’ll only be a few minutes!” Jay was already turning on his heel to jog back down the trail before either could protest. “I’ll come back in ten if I don’t find it!”

“We can’t be out here at nigh— Ugh, Jay!”

Waving dismissively, the man disappeared down the trail. Shouldn’t be too hard to find it, he told himself. His headlamp would easily reflect off its smudged screen or shiny plastic case. Shouldn’t take too long.

Head swinging from side-to-side as he scanned the game-worn path, hyperfocused to see anything remotely shiny, he let out a yelp and scrambled backward when a pinecone landed at his feet. He glanced up, headlamp illuminating the pine and oak trees around him. They were rustling as the breeze picked up and started to chill the night air. A shiver passed down the man’s spine and all he could do was hug his light jacket around himself. He checked his watched and groaned internally. Three minutes. That’s all that had passed?

The man started jogging again in an attempt to warm himself up. That, and he really just wanted to get back to the truck.

“Fucking…” He rubbed his hands together. It was already getting too cold.

Cursing and mumbling to himself as he tried to squeeze warmth back into his fingers, he glanced up briefly to sidestep a half-felled tree.

What greeted him instead had him freezing in his tracks and clumsily juggling his gun off of his back. A low growl rumbled before the area went deathly quiet when he met eyes with the…thing.

Frostbitten, grayed skin reeked with the stench of decay; emaciated form visible under the tatters of…what? Why did it wear anything for that matter? Yellow-white eyes almost glowed in the darkness as its hunched form remained so still it might as well have been a statue.

Jay swallowed around the lump in his throat. His hands shook so badly he couldn’t even hold his gun level to the beast. The slightest twitch of its fingers, claws glinting in the light of the man’s headlamp, had Jay jolting back a step as quivering hands tried to hold the gun steady. It seemed too cold in his hands; too heavy as nausea bubbled in his twisting stomach.

While the human trembled, the beast barely moved a muscle.

He’d heard the rumors of this very creature. Had always been skeptical about them. Werewolves were proven. Vampires, tricksters, ghosts, cherubs: All real. With real remains, real photos, real proof. But only rumors existed of the thing before him. Some didn’t even believe it was real.

But only a fool would test the rumors and risk one of the other creatures that lurked in the shadows getting its hands on them. Only a fucking fool would go back for a damned cellphone of all things after night had already fallen.

Before him stood a wendigo. A creature that could outrun him in a few swift strides. Could tear him open like a wet sack of flour, shatter his bones as if they were glass.

When the creature bared sharp, yellowed, stained fangs, Jay flinched. Its feral growl rumbled so deep in its chest the man swore he could feel its vibrations through the air. It tilted its head, eyes remaining locked with the man’s. Its ears were pricked as if it could hear his thundering heart. It probably could, really.

The wendigo sank into a low crouch. Was it smiling? Dry, cracked lips stretched from ear-to-ear, wrinkles creasing the corners of its eyes; it was far too human an expression. The frames of broken glasses rested crookedly on its nose, pieces of cracked glass catching the light of the headlamp and creating strange lines over the beast’s face.

Steeling himself, the man poised his gun. Running would be a horrible idea, but maybe if he—

Long before his trigger-finger could so much as twitch, the air was forced from his lungs and weapon wrenched from his hands. He whined as the back of his head hit the ground; a sharp pain throbbing the back of his skull. It went quiet for far too long, the only sounds being from Jay as he wheezed for air and tried to clutch the back of his pounding head. His limbs didn’t want to cooperate, arms moving at a snail’s pace; vision swimming and distorting the branches high above his head as his light shined into them. It was almost too bright, and he flinched away from it even knowing it would follow him.

It was only when he tried to sit up that cold hands snaked around his neck and slammed his head back into the ground. He choked out a yelp as blood welled at the back of his head; stained his cap and made his hair stick to his neck. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst right out of his chest.

The beast’s lips were moving, but the man couldn’t make out anything over the sound of his own heart and the ringing in his ears. With heavy arms, Jay struggled to bring his hands up to grip the wendigo’s wrists. They were bone-thin, the man’s fingers easily wrapping all the way around, yet no amount of tugging would make the emaciated creature so much as budge. It easily dragged him up to be nose-to-nose with it as it smelled him; he gagged at its foul breath, at the stench of its rotted skin, at its fingers tightening around his throat with a strength it shouldn’t have been able to possess.

He couldn’t bring himself to cry out when the back of his skull all but shattered with its next impact with the ground; as the creature effortlessly crushed his windpipe and he was left to silently wheeze for the air that could no longer come. The wendigo tilted its head as it watched the light die from the man’s eyes and his twitching form fell still.

Humans were just too easy a thing to prey upon…

Come morning, all the search team would find were an orange cap, broken shotgun, an area stained with blood and small scraps of the man’s clothes. The beast would make sure of that. Would make sure not a thing went to waste and went toward attempting to sate the wendigo’s endless hunger. It didn’t seem to notice, nor care, that a few meager feet away was a smudged cellphone that would light up with new, questioning texts from the man’s brother and his fiance.

As the beast circled its meal, the man’s headlamp reflected off the old, scratched name tag pinned to the tatters of what was once a pristine black suit: “Bim Trimmer.”

[sonoftartessos]

@cxncordia sent: Age meme : 11

SEND ME AN AGE AND MY MUSE WILL TELL YOU ONE THING THAT HAPPENED TO THEM WHEN THEY WERE THAT AGE THAT THEY WILL NEVER FORGET.

When León was little, his father told him a ghost story that kept him up all night. It became the story he would always repeat to his friends. Each time, he would make little changes to scare them more.

As scared as they were, they never believed it.

He was eleven when he decided to prove it to them. One night, León lied about going to a sleepover. He stuffed his backpack with everything he thought he needed to hunt this circus down.

He had no idea where he was going. He just knew he would find it and take loads of great pictures. He might even find an evil clown. That would be cool.

He got a bus to the nearby woods and cut through the fence with the wire cutters he stole from his father.

The woods were so dense that it felt like hours by the time he found a clearing. His clothes were in shreds from the brambles and his skin burned with nettle rash.

He wanted to go home. The bitter autumn chill hurt his skin, his feet ached and he was frightened. But he needed to prove to his friends that he was not a liar. He was close. He could feel it.

Fumbling with his torch, León wandered through the dark. The shadows moved in the breeze. The sound of cars from the nearby main road died down the further he got.

His nervous breaths misted up into the air in plumes. He just wanted to find the burned-out van with a clown painted on the side. He would take photos on his disposable camera. Then he would run all the way home.

Something in the distance suddenly crossed his pale torchlight and disappeared again. He couldn't even find his voice to scream. Casting his torch where it went, he tried to tell himself that ghosts couldn't hurt him. Or that it was an owl! That was what it must have been.

His legs felt like rubber as he continued deeper into the woods. Tears rolled down his face as he fought back panicked breaths.

It was almost an hour before he gave up. Terror, tiredness and discomfort made him turn around. But as he trekked back, he couldn't remember the route. Dragging his feet, he tripped on a bramble and tumbled into the nettles with a scream.

Bursting into tears, he scrambled to catch his torch as it rolled away. It was such a terrible idea. He was never going to go anywhere alone ever again.

He grabbed the torch and shone it around, panting desperately in terror. The owl was back, hiding in the distance with a flash of grey. But as León shone his torch on it, he realised it was a man in a grey hoody. He let out a shriek of terror and sprinted in the other direction.

He arrived at the fence into the main street by luck and scrambled through it, abandoning his bag there. He was surprised to find his mother parked up nearby, in tears.

She embraced him hard when he reached her. 'Don't lie to us ever again.' She lavished his face with kisses and checked his wounds. After, she called León's father and his friends, who were still in the woods searching for him.

As it turned out, they had gone to León's friend to drop off some of his things for the sleepover and found out he had lied. It didn't take anyone long to realise where he had really gone.

His father slapped him for his stupidity. There was no excuse for putting himself in so much danger.

Since then, León tells himself that the hoodied man was his father's friend. But nothing explains why none of them was wearing grey hoodies that night.

[damiennazario]

Everything I Do, I Do it For You

Pairing: Jake x Female MC (Taylor)

Summary: Giveaway fic for @xo-endlessmayhem-xo in which Jake and Taylor meet Rebecca six months after the events of La Huerta.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, with explicit language and references.

Words: 1,824

Note: I used Taylor, the default female MC for this because simply referring to her as ‘his princess’ quickly got tiring. Her physical description is never explicitly stated, so picture her in any manner of your choosing! Enjoy!

Six months have passed since the gang has set foot on American soil, soil that thankfully wasn't rushing lava or molten magma. Six months have passed since they won, in a strange manner of speaking, because the post-traumatic stress doesn't exactly make them feel like winners. But at least they can find solace in the fact that they are not alone with their feelings, and can always reach out to one another to try to keep their minds off of whatever’s ailing them. It's truly strange to think that most of them barely knew each other before winning that trip to La Huerta, and now here they are, going out for mani-pedis or drinks and generally acting like better friends to each other than the friends they'd left back at Hartfeld. It only goes to show that everything they'd gone through, everything that nearly broke them or killed them, only made them stronger as a group - especially for the couples, namely Jake and Taylor.

They were in talks of meeting his twin sister now that his bounty was lifted, he was finally admitted back into the states, and Lundgren and his Arachnids were no longer a problem. A quick Google search turned up several articles about his sister being shot by a serial killer named John Tull after responding to a shooting at a set in Los Angeles almost a year ago, and some disclosed which division she was in. Jake felt his blood running cold as he read them - his baby sister (only younger than him by 6 minutes) was just a rookie. He only wished the maniac who shot her was still alive, just so he could take pleasure in hunting him down and killing him himself with nothing but his bare hands, because no one hurts his baby sister. Thankfully, however, the article has since updated and said she has recovered.

With that, he and Taylor flew - almost literally by the seats of their pants - to Los Angeles to find her and set everything right. He was still almost ashamed to face her after all these years, and was worried sick about how she'd react, but he couldn't go on having his loved ones agonizing over him if he's a free man. It wouldn’t be fair.

Now, he stands before the entrance to the police station, at the exact division in which his sister is said to be working. Taylor is at his side, their hands intertwined as tightly as possible, and that's the only thing grounding him at the moment. He couldn't do this - no, he couldn't even physically be here - without her. She's the one who made this possible. She's the one who made everything that was righted in his life, possible.

He turns to her and swallows a lump that's about the size of a golf ball. "Listen. Even if she fucking tears me a new one," he pauses to smirk that crooked smirk that she loves so much, and she can't resist chuckling a little in response, "just know that I couldn't have done this without you."

She looks up into his sky blue eyes and nods modestly at him, squeezing his hand a little tighter as if to pump a little courage into his veins. And because she's magical, it seems to work, because he bursts through those doors like he owns the place, like the Jake she knew would do.

The secretary at the front desk looks a little rattled by his bold entrance, and adjusts her glasses to improve her focus on him. "Can I help you, sir?"

Taylor watches him intently as he talks with his warm, calloused hand still cradled tightly in hers, ready to give him an affirmative nod or squeeze if he turns to her with any residual doubts.

"Yes. I'm looking for Officer Rebecca McKenzie." he says, tapping his free hand on the secretary's desk. Taylor would guess that he's just using it as a channel for his anxiety.

The secretary raises an eyebrow somewhat skeptically. "And what business do you have with her, sir?"

Jake seems a little miffed by her inquiry, his patience dwindling quickly and his anxiety skyrocketing. He doesn't have time for 20 Questions. He just wants to see his sister again. "I'm her twin brother, Jake. See the resemblance? Yes? No?" He waves his palm in front of his face repeatedly to make his point, but doesn't let her answer. "Anyway, I need to speak to her. It's been years since I've last talked to her, and this is my only lead."

"Well, I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I can't let you see her if I deem you to be a threat to her safety. You see, she was shot in the line of duty, and -

He furrows his brows and begins to raise his voice. His princess squeezes his hand as a warning, because if he keeps this up they'll drag him out kicking and screaming before he can achieve anything, but now he's far too angry to heed it. "Oh, yeah, I know all about that. But a threat to my sister's safety? Do you even know who you're talkin' to? I've done nothing but protect her all throughout our childhood, and now I just wanna set things right because I know she must've been worried sick." He stops and begins to thumb through his pocket, retrieving his wallet and shaking his head in exasperation. "Look, I'll even show you my damn ID if you really want me to, 'cause we got the same last name and date of birth. Look it up if you don't believe me. I don't know what else you want me to do for you."

Just as he's about to hand over his ID to the secretary, a redheaded woman steps out from the office behind the desk. "Is this man giving you trouble?" she asks, sizing him up until a spark of realization courses between them as their eyes settle upon each other, so strong that it's almost visible. Jake can feel his heart dropping like a block of lead in his stomach, but strangely.. not in the bad way. The redhead’s skin blanches almost instantly, as if she's just seen a ghost, because that must be what this is. After all these years, her big brother that she and her mother had always thought was dead is right here, in the flesh, alive and breathing with tired blue eyes, a five o'clock shadow, and tousled tufts of brown hair that were much longer than they were when she'd last seen him - he'd cut it before joining the navy. They were only 18 then, and just about 27 now. Almost a decade. It doesn't surprise him that she doesn't jump in his arms right away - she still looks a little apprehensive, as if she feared that he were a mirage that would disappear before her eyes if she got too close.

But Jake just smiles a tired smile at her and says, "It's me, Bex."

From then, she knows. Those two words were the key to her proverbial cage, and they set her free. She all but jumps over the desk and into his arms, her head cradled perfectly in the crook of his neck, and his head buried in her hair. Taylor just stands to the side of them, arms crossed and heart full. She can hear Rebecca tearfully mumbling, "Mama and I thought you were dead, you bastard. We missed you. I missed you."

Jake just closes his eyes and rubs her back. "I know, I know, Bex, and I'm so sorry. If you got my message, you'll know that I was ashamed of myself."

Rebecca pulls away, her greenish blue eyes puffy and red and sodden with tears. "But I don't understand. What the hell happened?"

Jake sighs. "Whatever Lundgren told you ain't true. He was a sonuva-bitch liar who sold weapons to the people we were supposed to be fighting. Mike and I found out and were going to confront him on a recon mission. But we got ambushed.. musta’ been him trying to silence us.. and I ejected in time. Mike didn't. When I arrived back at the base, I punched the fucker in the face and ran. Since then, I ain't ever stopped running."  Then he steps back and jerks a thumb in Taylor’s direction. "That's where she comes in."

"I was doing odd jobs in Costa Rica with my Delilah, since I had a $750,000 bounty on my head, which meant I couldn't set foot in the states ever again. That's when I got hired to fly a buncha' ragtag misfits barely out of college out to some island you've probably never heard of. The guy - we'll call him Phony Stark - was paying me good money, so I thought, 'Why not?' Best decision I've ever made, right there," he says, winking at Taylor. "She's the reason why I'm standing before you now, so I had to involve her in our reunion, 'cuz it's only fair. I can't tell you how many times we cheated certain death and failure together."

Rebecca offers her a grateful, yet still teary-eyed, smile. "I guess this means I should thank you. For everything. It’s so good to have my best friend back." She pauses and steps back to fan her eyes. "Jeez, I owe you so much, and I barely know you."

Taylor laughs. "You don't owe me anything. There's nothing I wouldn't do for your brother."

Rebecca's smile broadens upon seeing the way the two look at each other. "I can tell. He's very lucky to have you."

Jake smiles brightly down at Taylor, gently pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Damn right, I am."

The two walk out of the police station a couple minutes later, arms around each other and in much higher spirits than when they first came. The only comprehensible thought that crosses their minds at that point in time, besides their elation at how well things turned out, is now what?

Just then, Jake stops walking to look into Taylor's eyes. "So.. now that that's happened, I want you to know that I'm done running, Princess. Ain't nothing to run from anymore. I'm ready to slow down now. Go to college. Make somethin' out of myself. But more importantly, I want to make a home for us."

Taylor's somewhat taken aback by his seriousness. It's not all the time that he talks like this, especially about their future, and his in particular. It makes her insides fill with warmth and pride in how far he's come - from fearing it, to planning for it. "Home? Do you mean back in Shreveport?"

He laughs and says, "it don't have to be back in Shreveport, honey." He then leans in to kiss her temple, and squeezes her shoulder. "Home is wherever I'm with you."

[keptin-indy]

7th Sea: The New World 6

Last time, the passengers of the Golden Dream fought a giant squid and sailed into Fort Freedom, the headquarters of the notorious Atabean Trading Company, where they scouted out the ship they intended to steal for the Ruhuri freedom fighters.

Content warning for intentional self-harm for magical purposes.

Previous installments

The Dream and the Falcon’s Gale sailed on the same tide, which wasn’t at all suspicious because the Falcon, as rumoured, was the much faster ship and quickly disappeared over the horizon.  On the Dream, Etienne explained the dangers of the sorcerous pathway they were about to walk: the realm beyond a Porte doorway could easily drive people mad or worse if they opened their eyes or heeded the whispers that would surround and follow them - whispers that could sound like friends, loved ones, alive or dead, anyone except the sorcier leading them.  They should link hands and listen to no one but Etienne and he would guide them safely through to the mark he had left on the other ship.  Rolling up his sleeve to reveal his heavily scarred arm, Etienne cut a deep, bloody gash as a corresponding, larger one appeared in the air before him, also apparently bleeding human blood.  The dismayed party closed their eyes, linked hands, and followed Etienne through the gaping wound into a place that felt Wrong, filled with ominous, tempting whispers from voices they recognized.  Some began to sing marching songs or hymns to drown out the voices, but had to stop as Etienne warned them they drew near to the Falcon.  Finally they made it to the other end of the bloody walkway, exiting into the pitch black hold of the Seahorse ship.  Ansgar lit his hooded lantern while they all took a moment to calm themselves after their dreadful journey.  The moment was cut short, however, when the door to the hold opened and a patrolling guard - the large Castillian Etienne had noted during his reconnaissance - shone a lantern directly on them.  He shouted an alarm and called for the intruders to surrender, but Ansgar beaned him with his heavy lantern and Brandt started rolling spare cannonballs at the feet of the coming reinforcements.  Misha threw a crate through the bulkhead, taking the fight into the armoury and cutting some of the enemy crew off from their weapons.  Mariandl warned that the Vesten officer was coming with more crew, but he turned out not to be a trained fighter and was quickly induced to surrender.  Mariandl took keys off the barely-conscious Castillian and locked the defeated officers in their own brig.  When no more crew came into the hold after them, Mariandl asked their captives, who said the others were likely waiting on deck with guns trained at the hatch.  Brandt proposed a plan to Misha and the two of them stacked crates until Misha could burst through the deck with his tremendous strength, taking the ambush by surprise.  Brandt threw his smaller compatriots up through the hole while Ansgar took advantage of the crew’s distraction to come up through the hatch like a normal person.  Etienne reminded the others of the Eisen sniper in the tops, who then immediately retaliated by shooting at him, but Ansgar threw his heavy lantern up and pulled the entire platform down.  Each of the attackers chose an officer to duel, but the Highlander captain somehow directed the rigging to lash out at several attackers - perhaps the rumours of his being a mage were true.  The  little Nahuacan bosun tried unsuccessfully to grapple the human dreadnought that was Misha and instead resorting to punching the large man in the unmentionables only to be removed from the combat by the equally-large Ansgar.  Ansgar then pushed the captain’s head against the helm and spun the wheel, knocking the spokes into him repeatedly, but the ship gave an ominous groan and Lady Gwen yelled for the others not to hurt him or the ship might destroy itself due to his Glamour.  The Montaigne first mate fighting Tamara saw which way the battle was headed and opted to cut herself to open an escape portal instead, grabbing the Eisen who was still shooting at the surprisingly hardy Etienne and dragging him with her before the gaping wound closed.  Lady Gwen and the Numan gladiator were so evenly matched that he saluted her after a long back and forth, only to be knocked through the hole in the deck by Mariandl swinging into him on one of the living ropes.  Etienne dropped a belaying pin after him, which landed on the unfortunate man’s head.  Brandt whirled his way over to the captain and asked if he could have that dance, then hipchecked him away from the wheel, breaking his connection to the ropes.  

Captain MacIntyre offered his sword in surrender on the condition that they would let his crew go and set the postal cargo they carried somewhere it could continue on its journey unmolested.  Brandt accepted these terms and directed them to lock themselves up in the brig.  MacIntyre asked where they had come from, since his crew were fully prepared for an attack but didn’t expect it from within their own vessel, but Brandt just told him that it had been somewhere unpleasant and left it at that.  Brandt also asked where Second Mate Turnbull was, but no one seemed to know until Mariandl noticed someone sneaking toward one of the ship’s dinghies.  When he realized he’d been spotted, he leapt into the boat and began lowering it. His own captain, furious at his desertion, started to jump after him, but Brandt said that he had personal business and asked for the first crack at him.  Brandt jumped into the boat with Turnbull, who recognized him and tried to raise the boat back up in a panic.  Brandt told him to surrender and testify against the ATC but Turnbull said he’d be executed.  Brandt magnanimously told him he was very proud at how well Turnbull had infiltrated the evil ATC, but Turnbull told him there was no way MacIntyre would let him get away with desertion.  Brandt called back up to MacIntyre asking if he insisted on doing violence to his second mate and then bargaining him down to “not the face”.  Brandt told his former captain that, despite the circumstances of their parting (marooning), he still liked the man and wanted to find him a way out of this situation.  Turnbull said he was forever in Brandt’s debt for not taking his (rightful) revenge and finished pulling the boat back up, where MacIntyre punched him in the stomach.  Brandt, with his ever problematic taste in partners, sidled up to where Mariandl was digging the Eisen’s bullets out of Etienne and asked his old friend if the Highlander seemed “majestic” to him.  Misha admired the tiny Nahuacan wrestler’s gumption and found that he was a former slave who had been freed by Captain MacIntyre.  Ansgar began repairs on the crowsnest he had pulled down while Tamara took the wheel and steered them toward the rendezvous point with the Dream.  Brandt, Mariandl, and Etienne took the time to explore the rest of the ship, mostly looking for the first mate’s blood marks which would allow her to teleport back onto the ship without warning.  They found that her room had been set up with an unusual number of mirrors, all facing each other, which Etienne identified as a Porte ghost trap.  The other two also saw something very strange about Etienne’s reflection - it was not mirrored but instead looked as though an identical person were making the same motions while facing him.  Etienne shrugged it off as a recent development he couldn’t easily investigate, though it made shaving hard.  Brandt asked why a man like MacIntyre was working for the ATC, and MacIntyre told him that the Seahorses were an honourable service which he hoped could reform the rest of the company from within.  He certainly thought they’d have a place for Brandt and his friends should they want it (they did not).  MacIntyre asked for books to be brought to the brig and Brandt said that Mariandl would be happy to bring some religious texts.  MacIntyre said he thought there were rules against torturing prisoners.  Once the Falcon and Dream met up, Turnbull was transferred to the Dream’s brig alone.

[During the trip, Lady Gwen approached Etienne and asked him about the voice she had heard in the walkway and whether not not they were real.  He assured her they were not and that anything they told her was likely a lie.  She said that the voice had seemed genuine to her even though she didn’t actually know what the person it claimed to be sounded like and after some further pressing revealed that her mother was one of the Sidhe and was now hunting for her.  Her father had wandered into enchanted woods as a young man and found his way to a castle, where he’d spent one night with a mysterious woman and thought no more about it for ten years until a baby showed up on his doorstep because time in Bryn Bresail had nothing to do with the real world’s time.  Etienne expressed amazement that every random Avalonian he’d ever met had or knew someone with a story like this.]