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adorablele · 4 years

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thief; l.dh

↬ genre; fluff // soulmate!au

↬ word count; 3.4k+

↬ summary; you drunkenly sing to Donghyuck when you first met him, and he sings the same tune back to you a year later

↬ a/n; so HAPPY HAECHAN DAY,, he deserves all the love in the whole entire universe! and this isn’t as long as we’re just friends (but it’s real close) AND it’s fluffy!! anyways, this is an au where only your soulmate knows the same tune as you (it’s unique to each pair of people who have this mark). please enjoy :))

There was someone trying to break into your house.

Or more so, someone was trying to break into your brother’s house. Your eyes roamed around the room, looking for something you could use as a weapon. Your phone was charging in your room, and, currently, you were binge-watching on the couch.

“I just wanted to enjoy Disney plus,” you muttered to yourself, still salty that your brother has had an account for months and didn’t share this information with you until yesterday. He used some excuse about this being your ‘welcome back’ gift when you asked him why he didn’t tell you about it earlier. You really wanted to watch Ratatouille while you were in France.

You caught sight of the baseball bat your brother kept in the glass case near his other medals and trophies. You snorted at 10 year old Mark’s cheesy grin as he held up his trophy for winning the county spelling bee.

The clicking of the door reminded you of the dangerous situation you were in and you quickly grabbed the bat, hiding under the dining room table.

The door opened.

You tightly clutched onto the bat, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You heard the criminal wander into the living room, muttering something about ‘who would watch this?’ before he changed the channel.

You fought your instincts to jump the guy right then and there, waiting until he wandered past the dining room table. You stuck out the bat, the criminal tripping and falling to the ground. Jumping out from your hiding spot, you pointed the bat at the groaning stranger.

The words in your throat died, your heart dropping. You pushed his chin with the bat, trying to get a good look at his face. But you didn’t need to see his face to know it was him.

“Why didn’t you tell me that someone else, besides you, had access to your house?”

Mark scratched the back of his head, It slipped my mind?”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you looked over at Donghyuck who sat on the couch. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, some show playing on the TV. He laughed obnoxiously.

“So why’s he here? At,” you checked the time, “two in the morning?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Sometimes he just randomly visits.”

“Yo, Hyuck!” your brother walked over to him, “why’re you here buddy?”

You trailed after Mark, taking the grocery bags he was holding.

Donghyuck planted his feet on the floor and placed a hand on his chest, jaw dropped as he stared wide-eyed at mark. “You mean,” he paused, “you don’t remember?”

Mark sighed, “It’s two in the morning and I had to do a late night snack run because someone,” he looked over to you who was digging through the grocery bags, “needed snacks to eat while binge-watching.”

You just smiled, opening a chip bag, ignoring the way Donghyuck commented ‘cute’.

Donghyuck tsked, “how could you ever forget something as important as this?”

You looked over at Mark who tiredly shrugged.

“I guess the day I blessed this earth isn’t important,” the boy sighed, dramatically laying down the couch with a hand over his forehead.

“Oh,” Mark tilted his head, “it’s already your birthday? I thought it was in two days.”

“And to think I once called you my best friend,” Donghyuck sighed, turning his head.

You snickered, adding another chip in your mouth. Was he always that dramatic?

(“Excuse me?”

Donghyuck walked towards you with a hand over his eyes and another one reaching forward, swishing back and forth to make sure he didn’t run into anything. You placed a hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?”

He shook his head, “no.”

“Uh, what happened?” you asked, placing down the bottles you were holding.

“I was blinded,” he cried.

“Oh no! How?”

“By your beauty,” he smirked, removing his hand.

You instantly let go of him, lips lined straight. He blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the light.

“Yeah, so I’m going to need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”)

“I’m sor-”

Donghyuck suddenly sat up, “it’s okay, I know what you can do to make it up to me.”

Mark raised a brow, “oh yeah?”

He nodded, “throw me a surprise party!”

You stifled back your yawn. “Alright, well I had plans to study today, but um,” you gave him a small smile, “since it’s your birthday, we can skip that.”

He shook his head, “it’s okay, don’t let me ruin your education.”

His thoughtful eyes made your stomach flutter, the memory of that night starting to resurface. You nodded, “to the library I guess.”

And in that brief moment when Donghyuck acted serious, you thought that you’d have a peaceful time at the library. You were wrong.

“This is boring,” he complained for the nth time.

“I suggested something different,” you paused your typing, “but you insisted that I not sacrifice my education to make you happy.”

“As long as I’m with you, I’m happy,” he muttered.

(You stared at the boy, unimpressed with his exaggerated gesture.

“Impressive,” he smiled, “I know.”

All you wanted was a distraction, not this guy with his pointy birthday hat. You smacked your lips, picking back up the bottles of alcohol before making your way to the exit.

“Woah, hey, where are you going with my alcohol?” he asked, standing in front of you.

“Your alcohol?”

“I’m the birthday boy,” he smiled, pointing to the ‘birthday boy’ party hat he was wearing, “also known as, the party host.”

“You hosted your own birthday party?”

“Well, my roommate did, but I did buy that alcohol,” he told you, taking the bottles from your hands.

He opened the fridge, “How about some ice cream instead?”

“That doesn’t drown out my memories,” you frowned, reaching for the bottles again.

He shoved a tub of ice cream in your hands, “No, but they give you brain freezes.”

“That doesn’t compare to the pain in my heart,” you scowled, shoving the ice cream back towards him.

He chuckled, “Edgy.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll just have the spiked punch.”

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist, “what about using me as a distraction, instead of, you know, alcohol.”

You actually considered his offer, the word ‘okay’ lingering on your tongue, but it never got the chance to escape.

“Hey, there you are!” some guy shouted, “hiding out in the kitchen, I see.”

The guy smiled at you, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to steal the birthday boy from you for a moment.”

“Looks like you’re needed elsewhere,” you told Donghyuck, making sure to take the bottles from his hands before his friend dragged him away.)

Your heart melted at the way he cutely laid his head down in boredom. “If you don’t distract me, then we can leave here in thirty minutes.”

You fought the urge to smile as he perked up, sitting up and nodding with determination.

However, ten minutes pass and you’re not sure if you can finish up in the time you said you would. In the last hour and a half that the two of you spent at the library, Donghyuck wouldn’t shut up, constantly commenting on everything and anything as he looked through your work. Now, he just stared at you, taking in every little movement.

“Didn’t anyone tell you that staring is rude?”

“I’m just admiring art,” he shrugged.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he gazed at you with the same soft brown eyes from a year ago.

“It’s distracting,” you muttered.

After an excruciating 60 seconds, he turned his attention to his phone.

“When are we going to eat an actual meal?” you asked Donghyuck, choosing not to comment on how he hasn’t let go of your hand ever since the two of you left the library.

His free hand picked up another perfume, “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” you pouted, patting your stomach.

He chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned towards you, fairly close to your face. Your eyes widened, heart speeding up. After a moment of simply staring into your eyes, he stepped back and placed the perfume back on the shelf.

“That’s not the same one,” he commented.

“What?”

“We looked at all the perfumes in this place, and not one is a match,” he frowned.

“A match for what?”

“To your favorite perfume,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He continued walking down the aisle, wandering into the cologne section.

You watched as he continued to sniff around. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” he sprayed another bottle, “I owe you a bottle.”

He remembered?

(You scoffed, shaking the last empty alcohol bottle. “You’re gone already?”

Grumpily, you got up. As you stumbled out of the bathroom, you noticed your ex down the hall, walking towards you.

“Yeah, I'll be back, I gotta use the bathroom,” they called out.

Your eyes widened and you pulled the nearest stranger into the bathroom with you.

“Can I help you?”

You didn’t answer him, taking the drink in his hand and gulping it down. When you finished it, you handed the cup back to him. “Yes, you can get me more.”

Donghyuck shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Enough?” you slurred, “I’m still sober!”

“You can’t even walk.”

“Yes, I-” you stumbled after the first step, falling into his arms.

“I rest my case,” he muttered, lifting you up on the sink.

“My mind isn’t...I haven’t forgotten yet,” you mumbled, head lolling to the side.

He stared at you for a moment before opening the medicine cabinet. You watched as he scanned the shelves muttering to himself about what he could use to distract you.

“That’s my favorite perfume!” you excitedly pointed at the unopened pink bottle.

“This?” he handed it to you, amused at the way your eyes lit up like a child opening a present.

“Yeah,” you enthusiastically told him.

Donghyuck closed the medicine cabinet in his bathroom, “Really? My sister bought it to gift to her friend.”

You sadly smiled at the bottle, “I ran out of this two days ago.”

He lifted your chin, “If we ever meet again, I’ll buy you a bottle.”)

You took the bottle of cologne from him and placed it back on the shelf. “I still have some left. Plus, it's your birthday. I should be getting you something.”

He thought for a second, “I guess you could treat me to lunch.”

With that, his hand tightened around yours and he dragged you off to a cafe nearby.

“What did I tell you about staring?” you told him, eyes still focused on the menu.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer?” he suggested, wiggling his phone.

“Don’t take a picture of me,” you deadpanned.

He smiled, “Too late.” You heard the shutter of the camera and you reached across the table for his phone.

“Delete the picture!”

“You’re going to knock over the drinks!” he warned, causing you to pause.

You frowned, sitting back in your seat. After a moment of you glaring at him, he sighed, “Give me your phone.”

“What, why?” you asked, placing a protective hand over your phone.

“Just, trust me,” he smiled, sticking out his hand.

“You know I don’t trust you, right?”

He sighed, standing up and sitting next to you, grabbing your phone before you could process what’s happening. He held up your phone and basically gave himself a photo-shoot using your phone. You leaned over his shoulder, looking at all the photos that he took.

“Why did you take so many?” you asked, turning to look at him.

He was already looking at you. Your breath hitched when you realized just how close his face was to yours. His lips looked just as soft as you remembered them.

(Maybe it was the way his promise resonated in your ears, or how sincere his eyes looked, or how plush his lips looked, but you had the sudden urge to kiss him. And when the door opened, you were reminded of why you initially pulled Donghyuck inside the bathroom - to hide you.

If he rejected you, that would be your excuse. With that thought in mind, you pressed your lips against Donghyuck’s. Your heart was uncharacteristically beating fast in your chest because Donghyuck didn’t move.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” your ex quickly said, unable to see your face.

Once the door shut, you backed away, “Sorry my-”

He cut you off, cupping your face and pulling you in. You melted into his arms. The kiss was firm and way more addicting when he returned the favor. He tasted like beer, along with a hint of something sweet. One hand cupped your face and the other wrapped around your waist. You slipped your arms around his neck trying, attempting to pull him closer as your need for oxygen grew with each passing second.

He pulled away, admiring the fast breaths that pushed past your swollen lips.

“I think your ex is gone,” he muttered, forehead leaning against yours.

“Who cares about him?” you asked in disbelief, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

You leaned in again.)

You cleared your throat, sitting back and taking your phone from him.

“It’s taking up a lot of storage,” you softly scolded, thumb hovering over the trash can.

But you knew deep down inside that you didn’t have the guts to delete the photos.

Everyone cheered as Donghyuck blew the candles.

“To Donghyuck!” Mark giggled, already drunk. You rolled your eyes at your brother who took another shot. Another round of cheers were heard and Mark nudged you, “Aren’t you going to drink?”

“Someone has to take care of you,” you excused, avoiding Donghyuck’s eyes.

He shrugged, taking the shot for you.

You patted his shoulder, “Don’t complain to me in the morning when you’re hung over.”

Your eyes wandered back to the birthday boy, his pointed hat sticking out against everyone else’s. He laughed along with his friends.

You couldn’t get drunk, not when he was here.

(You tugged on his shirt, “Just kiss me.”

Donghyuck hovered above you, “Love, we don’t know each other’s names.”

“y/n,” you quickly said, pulling him down, “your turn.”

He sighed, “Donghyuck-”

You didn’t waste time reconnecting your lips with his. It took all of his willpower to pull away from you, arms extended as he pushed himself up.

You stared at him with a hurt expression, “You don’t want me?”

“No!” he cupped your face, rubbing a thumb over your cheek, “the complete opposite actually.”

“So why-”

“You’re drunk, y/n,” he softly smiled, “and if in the morning, your feelings are the same, I’ll be more than willing to continue where we left off. After I bring you out on a date, of course.”

He sat up. “But right now,” he removed the throw pillows from his bed, “just rest. I’ll get you something to drink.”)

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

You finished tying another trash bag, “Soon.”

Donghyuck picked up the other two trash bags lying next to you, following you out to the trash bins. Both of you were silent until you got back into the house.

“You can go to sleep, you know,” you nodded towards your brother who was passed out on the couch, “you can sleep in his bed.”

He ignored your suggestion, continuing to help you pick up trash, “You avoided me the whole party.”

“Or maybe you were just having fun with your friends and I was running the party,” you suggested, not looking at him.

“So I didn’t imagine you leaving the room every time I entered?” he asked, pausing to look at you, “or how you suddenly had a conversation with the person next to you every time I smiled at you?”

“Even now, you won’t look at me,” he muttered, going back to picking up trash.

You were silent.

He sighed, “You have something that belongs to me.”

“What?” you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.

“You’re a thief,” he tsked.

You stared at him in confusion. He solemnly glanced at you, “taking my heart and just running away like that?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes before going back to picking up more trash.

“You swept me off my feet when you sang,” he laughed, “which is amazing because you can not sing.”

(“Hey Hyuck,” you hiccuped, eyes blinking slowly.

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling the blanket over you.

“I didn’t get you a gift.”

He chuckled, “You didn’t even know whose birthday it was.”

“But now I do,” you pouted, “so here’s my birthday gift.”

And you started off humming, before using the word ‘do’ to replace the words of the unknown song. Donghyuck’s heart sped up, the tune buzzing in his ears.

“You might not know it,” you said when you finished, “only my soulmate would.”

He knew the song, he knew it well.

“It broke my heart when they didn’t recognize it,” you closed your eyes, voice quieting down, “I really thought they were the one. They turned out to be a jerk who used me to make their actual soulmate jealous.”

And Donghyuck thanks the heavens up above that your ex wasn’t the one.)

You glared at him, “Thanks.”

He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with adoration, “Don’t worry. Despite the off pitch singing, it still seemed magical, like you and I were the only people there.”

“Weren’t we, though?”

He furrowed his brows, “What?”

“The only people in the room?”

He dropped his shoulders, letting out a loud sigh. “I’m trying to be romantic!” he whined.

You chuckled, the first time that he’s heard you laugh since he saw you a year ago.

“Do you want to know the song?”

You humored the boy, “Okay.”

When he uttered the first note, you instantly knew the song. The various times you mindlessly hummed it passing through your mind. You bit your tongue, opting to listen to his angelic voice rather than join him. He changed the ‘do’s’ into actual words for the last line.

“I couldn’t believe that I fell in love in the city of love,” he looked down at the empty cup in his hand, finishing up the song, “but just as quickly as you appeared, you left. I didn’t even have your number.”

He opened his mouth before closing it, before, again, opening it. He turned to you, “Just an FYI, if you weren’t ready to jump into a relationship, I wouldn’t have forced you.”

(You remembered everything up until the point when he led you to his bedroom, inconveniently forgetting the part where he forced you to sleep rather than take things further. You awoke with a pounding headache, aware of the fact that this wasn’t your room. Donghyuck softly snored next to you, the sun making his skin look ever more beautiful. You brushed the hair away from his eyes, almost tempted to stay with him until he woke up.

But you remembered your broken heart and all the energy you spent while being in a relationship. Last night, you promised yourself that you would take a break, take time to focus on you. I mean, you were in Paris for crying out loud, might as well enjoy it.

You chuckled, it’s not like you guys were soulmates or anything. With one last glance at Donghyuck, you picked up your belongings and walked out the door.

Even you were soulmates, then you guys would meet again, right?)

“I’m sure you would’ve,” you softly smiled.

He nodded, “but you needed a break, huh?”

“You didn’t need to be a rebound, Hyuck.”

He grinned, “I like it when you call me that.”

“Hyuck?” you repeated, “but everyone-”

“You’re not everyone,” he interrupted, “you’re my soulmate.”

You felt giddiness churn in your stomach, “I like it when you call me that.”

And then you gasped, “I never got you a birthday present!”

He laughed, “Out of all the times, you remember now? It’s not even my birthday anymore.”

You pouted, “I’m sorry! I meant to buy one when you weren’t looking, but you were attached to me the whole day. And then at the party, Mark was drunk so I had to make sure everything ran smoothly-”

“Sweetheart,” that nickname made you forget anything else you were going to spout out, “it’s fine. You gave me the best gift yet.”

“I did?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “you.”

You gave him a ‘really?’ look.

He laughed, “Okay, okay. How about we go on a date tomorrow, or today since it’s like 1 o’ clock?”

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

“Or, we can pick up where we left off,” he winked.

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anxiousdepressedintrovert · 4 years

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Horizons

The ride to Alexandrine’s estate was a long one. The close-knit suburban state of Andridge gave way to pastures of sheep and fields of raspberries. “Andridge is known for excellent wool and the best raspberries in the world.” Alex said, pride in her voice.

“I thought you were all about oranges here?” Madeleine quipped

“Of course not!” Alex exclaimed “Cordonia has much more to offer besides delicious apples, yes? The duchy I will inherit, Kayad, as well as the county I preside over, Dankamp, currently produce much of Auvernal’s citrus, as well as plums.” She leaned forward “They make for an excellent plum wine.”

Hana giggled “Lex, you can talk about plums later.”

“Sorry, anyway…Dame Klara, she’ll be Baroness Dominese, her family breeds and tends to the Auvernese Thoroughbred. One of the fastest horses in the world.”

“Impressive list but is there anything actually interesting here?” Olivia asked turning from the window.

“Lex! You forgot about the falcons!” Hana grinned, clapping her hands together.

Maxwell perked up “Falcons?”

“Yes, the royal family keeps mews with falcons and other raptors.” Alex explained “Other nobles and commoners who can afford them do as well. I’m sure Flor-I mean, Her Majesty would be thrilled to show you.” Alex matched Maxwell’s grin

“Oh, just call her by her name,” Riley said bouncing Ellie on her lap making the child squeal with glee “It’s so obvious you, Dame Gerard and the Queen are super close.”

Alex smiled sheepishly “Yes, Klara, Flori and I grew up together. It was…an experience.”

“What do you mean?” Drake asked

“Well, Floriana is the daughter of the second queen. She and Isabella are only half-sisters. Isabella was…temperamental.”

Olivia snorted “What a kind way to put it.”

“Flori grew up at Andridge Manor as a result of that. I-I shouldn’t be talking about this.” Alex cleared her throat, “Look, we’ve arrived.” Alex pointed out of the window to a sprawling estate.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Riley said looking at the grounds.

Alex beamed at the compliment “Thank you. Shall we head inside?”

Shortly after departing the limo, the group entered Dankamp Manor. Staff scurried around the halls, all of them carrying some form of decoration.

“Are you having a party?” Liam asked, taking Eleanor from Riley

Alex smiled as a few servants waved to her “Oh, we’re hosting the reception for the Coronation here.”

“Not at the palace?” Madeleine raised an eyebrow

“No, the palace is currently under construction. Flori didn’t want to begin her reign in a place that held so much pain. Now, let’s get you squared away in your rooms.” Alex clapped her hands “JOSIF!”

A tall wiry man appeared at Alex’s side “Yes, Lady Alexandrine?” his long pale face and slow speech reminded Riley of Lurch from The Addams Family.

“Josif, please escort my guests to the rooms I informed you about.”

“Lady Lee in her usual room, I presume?” Josif raised a thin white eyebrow

“Yes. Thank you.”

Josif bowed, and turned to the Cordonians “Please follow me.”

Josif guided the group up the main stairs and down the hall before stopping. “Lady Hana, The Purser Room.”

“Thank you Josif.”

“Of course. Dinner will be served at 6.” Josif escorted the rest of them to their rooms.

Drake was next to Hana in the Griffin room, Maxwell next to him in the Miyamoto room, Olivia next to him in the Vermillion room and Madeleine was further down the hall in the Viridescent Room.

“What about Riley and Liam? Surely you have some place for your most honored guests?!” Madeleine glared at Josif but the man didn’t even flinch.

“Of course. Their Majesties will be staying in the cottage connected to the manor. Lady Alexandrine ordered this. If you have a problem, Countess Amaranth, please take it up with her.” Josif’s words were precise and final. He did not tower over Madeleine but there was no doubt he was an intimidating man, despite his thin stature.

Josif turned to Liam and Riley, “If you please, I will escort you to the Wilbraham Cottage.” Leaving Madeleine stunned and Drake holding in his laughter.

They followed Josif down a series of hallways to an ornate door. Josif faced them, “Wilbraham is equipped with a master suite, full kitchen, a secondary bedroom, living quarters, outdoor seating, and a study. If you wish to dine in your quarters at any period during your stay, simply call the number listed by the phone and a servant will attend to you. The secondary room has been set up as a nursery for Princess Eleanor.”

Ellie cooed at her name, reaching out to grab Josif’s finger. The man smiled slightly. “Should the room be unsatisfactory to you, please call the number I mentioned before and request any changes.”

“What if we wanted, like…the same bed she has in Cordonia?” Riley asked mostly joking

“We would have a replica flown in immediately.” Josif said as he turned to open the doors to the cottage.

“I was joking” Riley whispered while Liam laughed, “You should know better than that by now. Royals take hosting very seriously.”

“Clearly.”

Wilbraham Cottage was a beautifully preserved old building with modern finishes on the inside. The study was more of a library with a desk in it. Wall to wall shelving of books. The wooden desk against the window seemed more out of place than the overstuffed arm chair. The roof of the study was entirely stained glass. It caught the sun and made patterns on the floor. Ellie giggled as she crawled on the wood floor attempting to grab the lights.

The bedrooms were equally impressive. Ellie’s room was a soft blue with stars decorating the walls and ceiling. Her crib was much more opulent than the one she had in Cordonia. Gold inlay in the frame, but the mattress was just as soft. And her mobile was of a horse, a crane, a sparrow, and a hawk.

“How-se!” Eleanor clapped her hands in delight

“Oh, do you like your room here Ellie?” Liam asked, nuzzling her face

“Ayeeee!” Eleanor grabbed his cheek, digging her small nails into his skin

“That bathroom is amazing.” Riley said, emerging from the en-suite of Ellie’s room. “Oh shit, is it time to trim her nails again?”

Liam grinned ruefully at his wife “Yeah, I do believe it is.”

“No!” Eleanor shouted, a gleeful smile on her face

“Oh, our little princess has been saying that a lot.” Riley tapped a finger on her chin “Does Ellie want…a bath?”

“No!” the toddler giggled

“Does Ellie want…kisses?” Riley kissed Liam on the cheek

“No!” a shriek of laughter

“Oh, well then I guess Daddy gets all of Mommy’s kisses.” Riley cupped Liam’s face and leaned in to kiss him

Ellie was not having it “No!” She pushed Liam away with all her tiny strength and grabbed at Riley “Mama!” Her words turned into a near sob. …of crocodile tears

“Oh, it’s ok Ellie.” Riley took Eleanor from Liam and held her, rubbing the child’s back. “Mommy loves both of you. But we’ve gotta trim your nails.” Riley sat down on a chair with Ellie in her lap and Liam crouched in front of them.

“It won’t hurt at all baby.” Liam smiled

Ellie sighed and leaned back into Riley “’K”

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

Elsewhere, Hana sat on her bed, staring up at Olivia, who looked down at her with an odd expression on her face. “I’m sorry Olivia I’m not sure what it is you’re asking.” Hana put down her composition book to focus on Olivia. The duchess sighed, unsure of herself. It was a feeling she’d very rarely felt. Olivia sat next to Hana and glared at the wall. Hana felt sorry for the El Greco that hung in her sightline.

“Your…friend. The Countess.” Olivia began, her voice terse

“Alex? What about her?”

“Tell me about her.”

Hana wrinkled her brow “I…What do you mean?”

“What information do you have on her?!” Olivia demanded, her cheeks flushing slightly “What kind of flowers she likes, things like that…”

Realization came to Hana suddenly “Olivia…are you interested in Alex?!”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Oh my god!” Hana squealed! “You have a crush on Alex?! I have to tell Riley!”

Olivia groaned “Please don’t.” but it was too late Hana already had her phone out and not even two minutes later Riley burst into the room.

“You have a crush on Alex?!” the queen screeched, her chest heaving from having run the distance from the cottage to Hana’s room.

“How on Earth did you get here so fast?” Olivia wondered; her eyes wide

Riley shut the door behind her and sat on the opposite side of Hana “Yeah, cause I’m totally gonna miss Olivia ‘I’ll kill you before admitting I have feelings Nevrakis asking for girl talk!”

Olivia narrowed her eyes “I asked for no such thing.”

Riley and Hana looked at each other and shook their heads “Oh, Olivia, I had a stunted upbringing too and I still know better.” Hana patted her friend’s hand.

“So, you know what that means! Sleepover!” Riley cheered throwing her hands in the air

Olivia frowned “Ancestors help me, what have I gotten myself into?”

Tagged List: @no-one-u-know @texaskitten30 @gardeningourmet

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Master List

#the royal romance #the royal heir #king liam #liam x riley #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #olivia nevrakis

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randomoranges · 4 years

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i so desire an edward. this obvs happens before the other chapters.

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For as much as Edward brings too much work at home, stays at school sometimes well past seven in the evening, on Fridays, he makes it a point to leave when the day ends. He has an entire weekend he can use; he’s exhausted, and also tired of being in the same room all week long. Therefore, once the kids have left, he gathers his things, makes sure his grading bag is full with whatever needs to be graded, checks his e-mails one last time so that he can dare to believe that he’s finally caught up, and then heads out.

He walks towards his car, when he sees the art teacher – M Étienne – slip and slide along the icy sidewalk carrying at least two bags on each arm, a backpack and two precariously stacked boxes in his hands. Edward jogs up to him, mindful of the snow and ice that’s started painting the sidewalks white and grey and steadies his colleague’s box before it can careen to the floor.

Étienne is new to the school. Edward’s kids don’t have him yet, since they have music for the first part of the year, but so far, Edward’s had the chance to chat with him a few times since the start of the year. He seems nice and friendly, if a little uncertain of his own skill and shy around the edges, but he supposes he’d been the same when he’d started in this school, a few years back. His take on Étienne is that he’s still trying to figure himself out, while attempting to make a place for himself in the school and keep his head above water while doing so. It’s not an easy feat and he doesn’t envy the man at all.

Edward, at least, only ever has twenty-eight students to deal with. Max. Étienne sees one-half of the school until January, and then the other half afterwards. On top of that, he’s filling in for the well beloved art teacher who had retired the year before and so carving himself a place in the hearts of students and staff is another challenge he has.

Still, from the little Edward has seen, Étienne seems to know what he’s doing. He’s given the art room some needed TLC, has put up some new posters on the wall and the vibe of the room has changed as well. It’s cool and funky and eclectic with beaded curtains, lamps of all kinds instead of the neon lights that sap everyone’s energy and an art-library in the back corner with a few beanbag chairs. He can see why the students’ would like hanging out here. Hell, he’d like to hang there as well.

From the little he’s heard, the students’ seem to not hate him and he supposes it’s a start. Étienne certainly fits the bill of the art teacher, what with his rather long, crazy, curly hair he keeps up in a bun with a few brushes or pens sticking out, the colourful patterned shirts he seems to always wear, his paint speckled hands and his smock he’s never seen without. He looks like a caricature straight out of a children’s book and Edward wonders if maybe it’s part of his persona – if he’s not trying to be the art teacher that the children expect him to be. Still, he’s a lively fellow, maybe just a little lonely and in need of a friend.

“Easy there,” Edward says as he steadies the box. Étienne looks a little frazzled, but thankful for the assist. He looks severely under dressed for the weather, all things considered, but Edward supposes that if he’s only walking a few meters away, it could pass.

“Oh, thanks, you’re a life saver!” Étienne shifts the boxes, the bags, and his footing as he tries to steady everything he’s carrying.

“Where’re you off to with all this stuff? You bailing on us already?”

Étienne laughs and rolls his eyes, “I wish. This is the grading I have to do over the weekend. It’s caught up on me. Again. And I didn’t want to stay in late. Again.”

Edward blinks. He totally gets it, but it looks like a lot of stuff. His little messenger bag full looks like nothing in comparison. Étienne shrugs, having seen the expression on his face. “I have twelve different groups who’ve finished projects this week. You do the math.”

“Yikes. That sounds like a bad time.”

“You have no idea. I think I was a little too overenthusiastic with the giant, big, projects. Very impractical for carrying around.” As if to add emphasis, he shifts the box again and it slides a bit.

“D’you need a hand with those? They look like they’re gonna fall off... come on, give me a box, I’ll walk you to your car.” Edward makes to reach for the box and notices how Étienne’s cheeks colour ever so.

“Oh I don’t have a car. I was walking to the bus stop.”

Edward gaps at him. Clearly, this man is insane. No one in their right mind would bring this much stuff on the bus during rush hour. Just thinking about it makes him want to weep.

“D’you need a lift? Where d’you live? I’ll drive you, come on.” He says it without thinking and figures that even if Étienne is out of his way, he can drop him off to the nearest métro station, or street corner.

“It’s fine. I’ve always managed, really, thanks for offering.” Étienne tries to brush it off as if it’s nothing – as if having two boxes and five bags to carry on the bus is nothing, but Edward is tired and has no patience to deal with this.

“Car’s this way, gimme the box and tell me where you live.” He bullies one of the boxes out of Étienne’s hands and starts heading towards his car. Étienne opens his mouth to protest, but Edward throws him his True and Patented Teacher Look and Étienne falls quiet.

Edward loads up the car and Étienne thanks him at least four times and tells him he doesn’t have to, really, another seven, before they’re even on the road.

“So, are you gonna give me an address or do I have to guess where I’m driving you to?” By now, Edward’s decided he’s gonna drop Étienne at his place, if only to spite him and because honestly, his colleague looks as dead tired as he feels and he wouldn’t put it past Étienne to fall asleep on the bus and wake up in a different county with his multitude of boxes and bags.

“If you can drop me off on the corner of Parc George I’ll just have one bus to take. I don’t want to make this a detour for you...”

Edward grips his steering wheel tightly and sighs. “For the love of God, Étienne, just accept the damned ride and tell me where I’m bringing you to.” He’s tired, he’s dealt with his own rebellious students all week and he just wants to get his colleague home and then go home himself. He’s not trying to be Mother Theresa, he’s just trying to help a colleague out.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Étienne says with a frown and a pout, and finally, finally gives him an address.

“Good job, you did it!” Edward says in his overly cheerful teacher voice, “See was that so hard? You can get a reward from the reward bin if you wish,” He adds for good measure. He catches Étienne trying to stifle a laugh from the passenger side and can’t help but grin himself.

“God, but, it’s been a week.” His colleague says and he has to agree to that.

It turns out that Étienne only lives a little ways away from where he does. It’s not really a detour, more like a giant loop, and it’s really no inconvenience. He helps Étienne unload the car and walks the stuff to his door. “Is all this stuff going back on Monday?” He asks. He has visions of Étienne cramming on a multitude of buses to get to work (the shock had been real when he’d found out Étienne had two buses to take and a forty-five minute commute when he lived fifteen minutes away by car – give or take) and having the worst of times squeezing by other commuters.

“Most of it, yeah. Might leave some of it for Tuesday...” Étienne sighs and pulls up his hair in a loose ponytail. Edward is briefly distracted by the curls as a plan starts to form in his head.

“I’ll come pick you up.” He says as though it’s the most logical thing in the world.

Étienne looks at him as though he’s gone mad. “What? No. One lift was enough. You don’t need to go out of your way. It’s fine.”

“Oh my God, just accept the ride! You’re like ten minutes away from my place. It’s no big deal.”

“Edward; no. I appreciate the lift, but this was fine.”

“I’ll be here by 7 am sharp. You can either get in the car and move back to school; or, if you’re not here, I’ll leave and you can take the bus. I’ll see you on Monday. Have a nice weekend,” He gives Étienne a cheery wave and heads back towards his car, while Étienne sputters and tries to call him back.

“Edward! This isn’t how things work!” Étienne shouts from his front door.

“Happy grading! Get some rest!” Edward shouts back, before he gets in his car and drives away, waving to Étienne.

By the time Monday rolls around, Étienne is out by 6h58 sharp, with his multitude of bags and boxes, and a coffee for Edward.

Edward tells him he didn’t have to – that the ride was free, but Étienne smiles syrupy sweet at him and tells him to accept the damned coffee or he can throw it out the window. Edward cracks a smile at that and accepts the drink.

Within the week, it becomes customary for Edward to drive Étienne to and from school and for Étienne to bring him his morning coffee.

Quietly and surely, through the multitude of rides they share, a friendship blooms. Edward gets to know Étienne a little better, finds out that he’s a riot and has the actual best stories to tell and Étienne finds himself the friend he’d been looking for.

The rides, of course, continue and never really end.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #3 sentence fic meme thing #teacher au

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8-bitgossip · 6 years

Photo

Quotations

Ambient Conversations:

“I fucking hate mosquitos. Can we get away from all of this stagnant water before we die of West Nile or some shit?”

“You know, there’s a really good hiking trail around here. If you just turn here…. And we’re going the other way. Nevermind.”

“Gotta love the wilderness, the sun, the rivers, the lakes, the idea that there could be a Chosen archer hiding in the trees just waiting to murder us.”

“...Yeah. Heights. This’ll be fun. Not. Can we uh -- get down. Like. Now.”

“So. Have you ever thought about what’s gonna happen when all this is over? People don’t even have homes to go back to anymore and what? Are we gonna hold hands and sing kumbaya and pretend this all didn’t happen? Like fucking hell.”

When Deputy Points a Gun at Them:

“Ah. So this is what betrayal feels like. Gotta admit I’m hurt Deputy.”

“Et tu, Brute?”

Holland Valley:

“Ah. You can almost smell John Seed’s entitlement from here. Or… maybe that’s just his cologne. Eau de Asshole.”

“The Spread Eagle. Did you know that Girl’s Night has karaoke? You’ll have to ask Grace to sing Man! I Feel Like a Woman! by Shania Twain. It’s a blast.”

“Ah yes. Open fields, straight roads, the perfect place for snipers to shoot at us while I can’t shoot at them. Let’s get a move on.”

“...you think that the general store ever got my shipment of books in before shit went south? No?” *sighs* “And I was so looking forward to finishing the last of Toni Morrison’s body of work.”

“Gotta admit, even though I don’t remember it -- one baptism was more than enough for me; evidently I cried the whole time. My childhood priest wouldn’t be pleased with me converting to some crazed religious cult. Catholicism is cult enough for any one person.”

“You think we could convince some people to sneak speakers up by John’s house? And blast Oh John from their fucking radio station while he tries to sleep? It’ll be hilarious.”

After Being Captured By John:

1st Encounter: “Did you enjoy your dip in the bliss filled water? Was John everything you hoped for? Thank god for Pastor Jerome and getting you out of there before shit hit the fan.” 2nd Encounter: “God. John’s quite the drama queen isn’t he? Shouting for you over the loudspeakers, promising that God will lead him to you.” *snickers* “He’ll be sending you flowers and love poetry before you know it, Dep.” John’s Death: “Well, everyone in the Valley can breathe at least a little easier now… It’s just a damn shame about the lives lost in the process and all of the people displaced by the violence.”

Henbane River:

“Ah yes, just your good, old fashioned, brain melting hallucinogenic drugs that at the very least sends you on a bad trip and at worst, turns you into a fucking zombie. Just how I wanted to spend my Tuesday.”

“Oh good. I’ve been meaning to stop by and see Addie. I have to talk to her about the fucking alleged haunted house she sold me.”

“I swear officer! It wasn’t me! Don’t cart me off to jail!” *snickers*

“You know what fucking sucks the most about all of this? They blissed out all of the best swimming spots in the Henbane, so unless you want to get really high I don’t recommend it.”

“Do you have any idea how much I’d love to take a rocket launcher to that sanctimonious prick’s dick?” *pause* “On the statue, dumbass. Although… Now that I’m on the topic…”

“...Please tell me that you’re also seeing pink elephants and about a dozen Faith’s littering the sides of the roads. Oh god.”

After Being Captured By Faith:

1st Encounter: “You never take me anywhere nice, actually, I lied. Do not. I repeat. Do not. Take me skydiving off of that fucking statue. I will murder you.” 2nd Encounter: “Best be careful there Dep. The adrenaline can bring you back but… there’s always a cost. You gotta wonder what the cost of finding that Marshall and bringing him back is.” Faith’s Death: “It’ll take years for this place to get back to normal… All of that Bliss, in everything. It’s not just gonna go away, and we don’t even know the long term effects. What a fucking waste of life.”

Whitetail Mountains:

“I should stop by and see Will and Eli while we’re here… No one in that fucking Militia keeps themselves fed unless you bug them about it. Fully grown toddlers, I swear to god.”

“Guess I should be thankful that the Cult isn’t as concerned with book burning as other zealous religious groups -- I would storm the Veteran’s Center myself if Jacob tried to burn my books.”

“...Did you hear that howl? We should go. Before we end up as wolf chow. Or, we could stay and when the Judge’s come you stay there, and I’ll climb a tree and use you as a big, beautiful distraction.”

“So… You know that fucking eyesore of a Truck that Hurk Senior owns? A few months ago I dumped pink paint all over that shit. Hurk and Sharky thought it was funny… his daddy not so much. It was just detailed too. Such a shame, that.”

“For the record, if you’re planning on using helicopters to travel you can count me out, out of this county, out of this little group of yours, out of existence. There will be no heights for this woman in this or any lifetime.”

“Please tell me that you’re not actually going to get those records on the kid’s list. He has like, the WORST music taste. Literally give anyone else that job because I don’t know how much of What’s New Pussycat I can take.”

After Being Captured By Jacob:

1st Encounter: “Careful now, Dep. The mind is the one thing that’s really hard to un-fuck once you get it into a bad place so just… be careful. The reprogramming may not be so family friendly.” 2nd Encounter: “You ever think that people get tired of his whole, “I ate a man once”, shtick? Like. We get it, you’re the scary mountain gremlin who likes to murder people and train deadly wolves, we don’t need more than that.” Jacob’s Death: “...What happened was... unfortunate. But it’s over now. It’s all almost over.”

Intercompanion Dialog:

Nick

Nick: “Hey. So, Kim’s been meaning to ask you for that recipe you and Will brought to the last cookout.” Bridget: “The peach cobbler or the pudding shots?” Nick: “….Both. Definitely both. And make sure that you bring them both again next time. They were a lifesaver. Who the fuck brings pineapple pizza to a barbecue?” Bridget: “Evidently, the Seeds. As if we needed another reason to shoot them.” Nick: *laughs* “Right?” Bridget: “I’ll make sure to stop by the next time I have a chance, I’m sure that Kim would enjoy some new faces around.”

Grace

Bridget: “I managed to find a copy of Beloved for you if you’re still interested in reading it?” Grace: “Really? You found it before the Peggies lost their shit then?” Bridget: “Yeah, it was in the last shipment of books that came into the library before everything went post-apocalypse now.” Grace: “I’d love to read it, be nice to take my mind off of everything that’s going on.” Bridget: “Of course! I’ll bring it by 8Bit the next time we’re gonna meet up there for you to read. I promise you’ll love this one.” Grace: “You haven’t steered me wrong yet.”

Boomer

Bridget: “You know… I’ve always been more of a cat person myself….” Boomer: *whines* Bridget: “Don’t give me those --” *sighs* “Fine. Fine. You’re the only exception. Happy now?” Boomer: *happy bark*

Sharky

Sharky: “Hey so, Bridget. I have a question.” Bridget: “Hm?” Sharky: “Do you think that readin’ Shakespeare and Charles Dickens and shit would make me sound smarter?” Bridget: “Nope.” Sharky: “Seriously?” Bridget: “Sharky, it was like… the Simpsons of our times, people just like to act like it was smarter and better. Besides, you’re plenty smart by yourself and if anyone tells you different you can tell them to find me and I’ll beat the shit out of them with my twenty five pound Shakespeare anthology.” Sharky: *laughs* “Can and will do, ma’am.”

Adelaide:

Bridget: “So… About that haunted house you sold me…” Addy: “Ah, I was wondering when you’d figure that out -- technically no one’s ever died on the property and the hauntings are all just rumors that the town likes to tell.” Bridget: “It definitely explains why it was half of the price of every other house in Hope County.” Addy: “Darlin’ you always get what you pay for, and honestly, I think you and that man of yours got quite the steal on that place.” Bridget: “Uh-huh. Just know, that if I die, I have every intention of haunting you just so that you have to deal with those sort of shenanigans and whispers from the people in Fall’s End.” Addy: *laughs* “It’s a deal.”

Billy:

Billy: “So I say we just…” *inaudible whispering* Bridget: “Absolutely not! We are not going to panty raid the entirety of John Seed’s house and hang his silk underwear from his flag pole no matter how funny I think that is.” Billy: “Come on, think of the rage -- the pure unadulterated fury that he’ll have at seeing his glorious black silk boxers hanging from every available surface in the Valley.” Bridget: “Do not. It’s too fucking tempting.” Billy: “You know you want to.” Bridget: “You’re the absolute worst.” Billy: “That’s not a no.” Bridget: “Fuck you.”

Peaches:

Bridget: “Hey! You want some treats?” Peaches: *cougar noises* Bridget: “I talked to Chad and he gave me the scraps from the latest roadkill he’s gotten and I’ve saved it for my favorite kitty.” Peaches: *happy cougar noises* Bridget: “Yup! It’s all for the best murder machine in the Henbane.”

Hurk:

Hurk: “So you’re sure you’re not interested in Hurk’s Gate?” Bridget: “Nope. I’m pretty good where I’m at, plus, Jerome would be out a Youth Pastor if I did.” Hurk: “Well, I guess you could still stay with the Youth Pastoring thing, helping the youth and all of that is important, plus you could start recruiting them to Hurk’s Gate.” Bridget: “Still gonna pass.” Hurk: “Huh. Gonna have to do the hard sell on you, huh? Well, what if I told you that there are tons of beautiful men and women who are --” Bridget: “Hurk, I’m gonna stop you right there. My grandmother was Irish Catholic, were I to convert to anything she’d come down from heaven just to beat the ever living shit out of me.” Hurk: “Respecting the wishes of your grandma I can get that. Yeah.”

Jess:

Jess: “Hey, thanks for letting me crash with you and Will for the last few months, it’s been… a lifesaver. Really.” Bridget: “We know how hard it’s been, I’m glad to see you getting back on your feet… Well, as back on your feet as you can get given the circumstances.” Jess: “It’s crazy, all this shit goin’ south with the Peggie’s is what it’s taken for me to get my life back in order… It’s almost surreal.” Bridget: “Well, if you ever need us, our door is open and the spare bedroom is yours.” Jess: “Thank you, Bridget.’

Ashlee:

Bridget: “So. When all of this is over, we’re having a party. A big one.” Ashlee: “Obviously.” Bridget: “My first thought is at the lake, but then I’m like, “but wait, we live in the middle of nowhere, our only sources of entertainment are drinking and shooting things” which means that I’d spend my time worrying about people accidentally ending up in the water and drowning.” Ashlee: “A fair point, but may I just say that they’re all fucking adults and should know better. We’ll grab some trucks to put along the waterfront to play music and block the way into the water and then people will have to think to get in.” Bridget: “An excellent idea. This is why I keep you around.” Ashlee: “And here I thought it was because I was attractive and intelligent company.” Bridget: “Always. Heart emoji” Ashlee: “Did you just---” Bridget: “Don’t.”

Cheeseburger:

Bridget: “Cheeseburger!” Cheeseburger: *bear noises* Bridget: “You know, every time we’re out here, I’m always surprised that the deputy hasn’t had a saddle made to ride you into battle like the majestic beast you are.” Cheeseburger: *bear noises*

#far cry 5 #guns for hire #guns for hire oc #bc: proud to be a librarian

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whimsydemimsy · 7 years

Text

Chapter Four

In a corner of the library reference room, Dimple Dene, Pixie and Yarma sat reading, cataloging, indexing and copying as much information as they could find on Clarendon Goodnight, C.B. Albany, and the C & C Bottle Company. Most of what they found pertained strictly to C & C business: its quick growth in the 1930’s, and the decision in the 1970’s to cease production of soft drink bottles, but also the company’s civic involvement. C & C had been instrumental in building the new Boys’ Club facility in the 1950’s, for example, contributing funds to add two baseball diamonds to the property. And more recently, the company had been the leading contributor to the new city civic center. There were even old newspaper photos of Goodnight at the dedication ceremony for the Boys’ Club opening.

“He didn’t have a beard,” Dimple Dene murmured disappointedly.

Pixie replied, “Well, not in April, 1955, anyway. He lived forty-eight years before that, and another forty-eight after.”

“Apparently, he liked to fish,” Yarma said, showing them a short item in a 1961 newspaper:

Longtime fishing buddies Clarendon Goodnight and Baird Putnam set a club record for Lightfoot Lake last weekend reeling in sixteen trout and eleven bass. A club limit of twenty forced the pair to throw back seven, but not before they were photographed with their catch.

“That must have been a slow news day,” Pixie said.

Dimple Dene interrupted, “Here’s something about golf. It looks like he was part of the first foursome to tee off on the new country club golf course in 1949 with Cedric Lipscomb, Lovick P. Corn, and Harlan Bunker.”

“You know, it’s weird that there don’t seem to be any pictures of C.B. Albany,” Yarma commented.

“I’ve heard of Harlan Bunker somewhere,” Pixie said, “Was he somebody important?”

“There’s an article here from 1934, two years after C & C opened,” Dimple Dene said, “It mentions both Goodnight and Albany and how successful the company had become in only two years, but there are no pictures.”

“Hey,” Pixie almost shouted, showing them the July 15, 1942 Niddup News, “Here’s C.B. Albany’s obituary.”

Cisco Brownwood (C.B.) Albany, co-founder of C & C Bottle Company, died July 14 at Niddup County Hospital from complications arising from surgery for an undisclosed condition.

Mr. Albany arrived in Niddup in the late 1920’s, working in construction before teaming with partner, Clarendon Goodnight, to launch C & C Bottle Company in 1932. C & C quickly became one of the city’s leading employers, allowing Niddup to escape many of the hardships of the Depression.

Mr. Albany had no family, but leaves behind the company he co-founded, his partner, his employees and his community. Graveside services will be held Thursday, July 17 at Niddup Cemetery.

“That’s it?” Dimple Dene said, dismayed?

“It’s more than Clarendon Goodnight got,” Yarma reminded her.

“I know,” Dimple Dene said, “But he died so suddenly, so unexpectedly, and he was pretty important at that time. It just seems like there should be a lot more written about his death.”

“It is kind of like they both just appeared out of nowhere,” Pixie said, “As if neither of them had any kind of history before they showed up here.”

“Here’s something else about Goodnight,” Yarma said, “Well, not actually about Goodnight.”

She showed them an item and picture from a 1970 newspaper. The picture was of several people surrounding a horse. The caption read:

Lormand Batmost and friends enjoy the Winner’s Circle with Josim.

“Guess we can conclude that he liked sports,” Yarma continued,

“And probably gambling,” Pixie added.

Dimple Dene said, “You kind of wonder when he found time to work.”

“Let’s go out to the cemetery and find their graves,” Pixie suggested.

“Why?” Dimple Dene asked.

“I don’t know,” Pixie answered, “Call it closure, I guess.”

“You over-analyze everything,” Dimple Dene huffed.

The drive to the cemetery was not long, so at least the girls were not terribly disappointed when it yielded no surprises. Clarendon Goodnight’s grave was easy enough to find; a relatively new grave, still more dirt than grass, and the double headstone bearing the birth and death dates of Ethile and Clarendon Goodnight. The stone was toward the front of the cemetery, almost visible from the road. Next to his parents was the grave of their son, Edhube.

Dimple Dene had brought her camera, so she took a couple of pictures for their file.

It was a little more difficult to find the grave of C.B. Albany. Tucked away in a corner of an older section with only a flat marker, it was virtually invisible until they were upon it, and almost hidden beneath the unmowed grass that grew over it.

“How sad,” Dimple Dene murmured.

“You’d think, with no family, that Goodnight or the company would have given him something a little grander,” Yarma concurred.

Pixie agreed, “Kind of makes you wonder how well they really liked each other.”

A few more pictures, then they turned and headed silently back to the car, each walking as quickly as she could without actually breaking into a run. Once they were back on the highway, Pixie said, “I felt like someone was watching us back there.”

“I was about to say the same thing,” Yarma agreed, “It was weird.”

Dimple Dene sighed, “I’m glad you felt it too. Maybe I’m not losing my mind after all.”

#whimsydemimsy #mirrorimage #literacy #ilovereading #childrensbooks #books

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yeaimfishboi · 7 years

Text

Weaved To Light: Wrong Doing

Pairing: SehunxReader

Genre: Supernatural!AU, Angst, Fluff, some future ;)

Word Count: 5.4k (it’s a lot for me omg)

Warning: Death is involved with this and almost every chapter, so pleased be warned. Also with gory details. Foul language included in every chapter

Of course it had to be another bothersome night. Your sleep was restless and your dreams were horrid. All you were able to was fall asleep for 30 minutes at a time then wake up again because of your nightmares. You had finally gotten some sleep, but then you were awoken by a sudden dip in your bed.

You quickly grabbed your gun, threw yourself in an upright position, cocked it, and pointed it at the intruder. Only to find that your best friend picked the lock to your hotel room, and was kneeling right in front of you on your bed.

“Whoa, Nelly. Hold your horses! It's just me!” he yelled throwing up his arms in defense.

“Huang Zitao, you ass,” you shoved him with your shoulder, but not very lightly. You sat there for a few seconds admiring his physique. Just because he is your best friend doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy his face. His thick brown hair that always falls perfectly on his forehead, or his cute little panda eyes that make him look so adorable and squishy. His cute little side smirk whenever he was proved right. You know he’s going to find an amazing woman one day.

“Get off your ass. You’ve got a case,” he said while pulling you off the bed very dramatically.

“Why just me?” you mumbled.

“Cuz your partner is missing, and I’m just tech support,” you knew that you would have to do this by yourself. Without him here it may be a giant mess, but you have to have faith in yourself.

“With no tech at all,” you poked at your best friend’s belly just to tease him. You and Tao had been friends for years. You met when you were about seven years old and him, nine. Your parents had to team up for a case and he was left in your hotel room. You had both been born into this job, and right now he was all you had.

“Hey, just because I use the library doesn’t mean I don’t have any tech. I’m just resourceful,” he shot a cocky grin at you. The only technological devices he ever really used were the library computers. He was a book's type of guy.

“Bullshit. Anyways, what is the case?” You quickly threw on your clothes, and grabbed all your identification.

“Well, according to the police scanner, a young student walked up to the roof of her school, and jumped off. When they found her, her legs were crushed and face mangled,” he stated while eating some of your food.

“That isn't all that special Tao,” you slumped back onto the bed after you realized that this case probably wasn’t worth it.

“There is one catch though, the door to the roof was locked. Also, this is the fifth case this month. The same school, the same injuries,” he butted in.

“A little suspicious. I guess I'll go check it out,” you said grabbing your jacket and keys, then walking out the door.

You arrived at the crime scene, with your nice formal attire.

“Y/FL/N, FBI. I'm here to investigate the crime scene.” You flashed your false badge at the officer by the tape.

“Right this way Ms. Y/S/N,” he lifted the tape and gestured to the crime scene. You investigated the remains of a young girl. Her legs were in shambles, which appears as if she landed directly on her feet, and that's rare enough. On top of that her face was destroyed, which is completely inconsistent with falling.

“What do you think did that to her face?” you asked the medical examiner.

“Honestly, I have no clue, but the other cops are associating it with the fall,” she said looking up at you, really as if she had no clue.

“The county police are saying it's a suicide, aren't they?” you asked bending down to look at the body.

“Yes,” she stated.

You spent a little while longer examining the scene. You went up to the roof only to find a little bit of a black goop on the railing.

“Damn it,” you whispered before heading to the hotel.

You made a small detour to the library before heading back. It seemed that this happened fairly frequently. One every ten years, and it always happened the same week. The first case was a young girl, named Maria, in the 1950s. They found her on the ground face mauled, with weights attached to her ankles. They immediately assumed suicide. At this point you were a little suspicious, but all you knew for sure was that you had one pissed off spirit on your hands.

You collected your research, and drove home for the night. You placed it all on your desk, and immediately flopped upon your bed.

After about 5 minutes of pure relaxation, your phone rang. You knew who it was, that curious little bitch.

“What do you want fucktard?” you asked with an underlying growl in your voice.

“Retract the claws Y/N, is that any way to treat your best friend?” he asked with a dollop of sarcasm.

“Yes,” you paused, “what do you want Tao?”

“Well, did you find out anything regarding the case?” he asked. From what you could tell, it seemed as if he didn't want to do any research.

“Why don't you drag your ass over here?” you spat at him.

“Ah, no can do Stink Bug, not unless you want me to find him.” He used his nickname for you. It always pissed you off, because it could always make you do what he wanted. You got this nickname. When you were kids. You had carelessly picked up what you thought was a beetle, but of course it ended up being a stink bug. You smelt like stink bug for days. Tao hasn't let it go since. You could never figure out why it pissed you

“Piss off, kid,” you blurted.

“So, what did you find out?” This time he was more genuine.

“Well, I sure as hell can tell you that this is weird. The victim’s face is mauled, and her tibia up to her femur is shattered on both legs.”

“Damn that’s painful.”

“Yeah,” you continued, “also when I went to the roof, I found something,” you paused waiting for him to guess.

“What?” he asked.

“Ecto,”

“You found ectoplasm on the roof?” he asked with his typical inquizitive tone.

“Yes, and I found out about the very first-” you were interrupted.

“Wait to tell me all of that when I get there,” he said.

“Oh of course, now you want to help, bring some food!” you yelled into the speaker right before he hung up his end of the conversation.

You sat by yourself for another fifteen minutes thinking about the girl. Lucy was her name. That entire case seemed odd. It doesn’t look like she committed suicide at all. You tracked down her last remaining family member, her younger sister. You decided to visit Lucy’s sister, and ask some questions about Lucy and the case. After doing that you drove back to your hotel and threw yourself on your bed. This was a long day and it was going to be a hell of an exhausting case.

Whilst amidst your pondering you heard a knock at the door. “I’m only opening the door if you bought me a pizza, asshole.” You swung open the door, and encountered someone that sure as hell wasn’t Tao. He was tall, a little lanky, and handsome. He had stunning brown eyes that glistened as he blinked. He had freckles that were littered across his cheeks. His brown hair was perfectly styled, and framed his face wonderfully. “Hello, would you like anything?”

“Hi, this may be a weird question, but are you a hunter?” he asked.

“You mean like the story of Bambi, kind of hunter?” you chortled, “I don’t hunt deers and moose that’s for sure.”

“No,” he kicked his feet across the ground, he’s nervous, “I mean like ghosts, ghouls, vampires, and demons type of hunter.”

‘How in the hell does this man know what hunter’s are?’ you thought. “There is no such thing as ghosts, ghouls, vampires, and demons, sir,” you responded back while shutting the door. He quickly shoved his foot in between the door and the latch in order to stop you.

“I need your help,” he quietly shouted, if that is even possible. He then brought his foot back to his leg. You stopped dead in your tracks just to hear his words.

“My name is Sehun, but the humans call me Oh Sehun,” Because of his previous statement you realized he wasn’t human. So what was he? Werewolf? Vampire? You then continued to shut the door, but he stopped it again by bringing his hand up to it.

“If you are not human, then what are you?” you exclaimed through your gritted teeth.

“I was born a demon. I’m a full-blood.” That last sentence put you in an immediate state of shock..

“There is no such thing as a full-blooded demon. They are impossible." He flashed a stunning set of dark purple eyes. Just like the lore. This was all impossible, it couldn't be. Wait, you felt something. You felt desperation and sadness. They were coming from Sehun, but you can't feel emotions from anything other than humans. How is all of this possible, a full blood demon and you can feel his emotions? This entire situation felt like a dream, or more realistically a nightmare.

“Believe me now?” Sehun interrupted your thoughts.

“What do you want?” you muttered, still trying to figure out how in the hell you could feel Sehun’s emotions.

“I was given a proposition to finally become human, but the one condition was that I work with you. To fight monsters.” At this point there was so much desperation in his voice that anybody could tell. “The more cases we fight and people we save the more human I become.” You acknowledged that the entire situation was out of the ordinary, and possibly going to kill you, but you decided to give the kid a chance.

“I will give you an opportunity,” you saw his face light up, “but, you must work this one case with me, and if you can prove to me that you're serious, you can work with me. Just don't try too hard on this first case. Deal?” Right now you were really inquisitive as to how this all worked.

“Deal,” you could feel his smugness, but it wasn't the ‘You fell into my trap,’ kind of smug, it was the ‘Now I have to prove myself, and I’m going to blow you away,’ type of smug.

You beckoned him inside, and had him sit on the table.

“My name is Y/N,” you reached your hand out across the table for him to shake.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, so what's this case about?” he asked as he shook your hand.

“A string of suicides that are all eerily similar to one case in the 50s. All of them have their faces mauled and their legs crushed.”

“Ouch. What kind of ghost or monster would do that?” he asked fake wincing.

“Well, there is one caveat to this situation, the ghost leaked ecto,” you sighed dropping your head to your chest.

“What’s ecto?” You immediately face palmed yourself, especially because he seemed serious.

“Ectoplasm,” you responded slightly irritated, but not really because of him.

“You mean that goopy black shit that really angry ghosts leave behind?” he sounded like a child. He was shocked, confused, and all around just odd.

“Yes,” you paused to think heavily, “you haven't been to the overworld much, have you?”

“Not very much,” he admitted, but he still tried to seem as confident as possible. Even though you could see right through him.

“Well then let me get you acquainted with the standard procedures of a hunter,” you boasted while you smiled.

“You make it seem like you guys are special detectives that have to handle evidence a certain way,” he scoffed through his nervousness.

“We basically are, and, see you know some things about the overworld!” you laughed and then nudged his shoulder. He then dropped his head, and shook it while laughing a little.

You continued explaining for a little while, when you heard a knock at your door. It had to be Tao. You stepped out of your seat to get the door.

“Give me a sec,” you turned around and looked at Sehun, “I'll need a few minutes to talk to him, is that ok?” Sehun flashed you a thumbs up, and you continued to the door. You opened it and pushed Tao back.

“What the hell is that for?” Tao blurted.

“I’ve, um,” you kicked at the dirt on the floor. You were trying to figure out a way to explain the fact that you had a demon in your hotel room, that he was a mythical full-blood, and you were now going to work with him.

“Spit it out idiot,” he jokingly spat.

“I've got a new partner,” you muttered.

“But?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Damn, he knew you all too well. You always bit your lip when there was more to the story.

“What do you mean but? There's nothing else.”

“You wouldn't be so scared with me, if there was ‘nothing else,’” he emphasized the last two words, “and you bit your lip. I know you, Y/N. you can't hide anything from me.”

“He's a full blood,” you responded still kicking the ground with your head down.

“A full blooded what?” he asked pushing you for more information..

“Demon,” you sighed.

“Very funny Y/N, there's no such thing,” Tao laughed.

In the midst of Tao’s laughing, Sehun flung open the door. “No such thing huh?” Sehun immediately flashed his dark purple eyes.

“Sehun, go back inside,” you demanded.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, and slammed the door back behind him.

“What in the hell are you thinking,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “you idiot!”

“Zitao!” your shout made him jolt back around to face you. “I can feel him,” you huffed.

“What do you mean?” he asked with an increasingly curious gaze.

“I can feel every single one of his emotions,” you responded.

“So you mean to tell me, you can feel something that’s not human?” he asked.

“Yes, and I need you to trust me on this. I really feel like he is telling the truth, and“ you stopped your begging, “if I end up dying you can dance on my grave,” you begged again.

“Fine, but I get to stay here for a day, because I cancelled everything to help with this case.”

“Yeah, come in,” you led him inside, and found Sehun checking out some old newspaper clippings you had on the wall.

“I don’t think it was a suicide that first time,” he turned to you.

“I don’t think so either,” you paused, “Sehun this is Tao, Tao this is Sehun.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sehun extended his hand out for Tao to shake, he then turned back to you, “Y/N, it says she was survived by her only sister. Have you talked to her?”

“Nope, that’s what we are doing tomorrow.”

“Great,” Sehun muttered.

“Let’s all get ready for tomorrow. Sehun can sleep on the other bed, and I guess Tao is stuck with me,” you gestured everyone to their beds.

“Damn it, you always hog the covers, Stink Bug,” Tao returned your teasing from earlier this morning.

“Deal with it. I doubt Sehun wants to share a bed with you,” you shoved him in return.

“He can take my bed,” Sehun had moved away from the bed, “I don’t sleep.”

“Shit, I forgot demons don’t sleep.” Tao had now moved over to the other bed and had fallen asleep extremely fast.

For a while, you just sat there contemplating why you could feel everything Sehun was feeling, it never worked on anything other than humans, so how was it possible. After maybe an hour of pondering your thoughts you had fallen asleep.

You woke up to find Sehun watching TV, or at least figuring out how it worked. He was clicking all the buttons on the remote repeatedly, which cause you to giggle under your breath.

“How does this blasted device work!” he spoke.

“Well a TV, is a device that plays movies and shows through a screen. You use the remote,” you slowly took the remote out of his hands, “to control which channel you want to watch,” you pressed the 1 and 2 button, “like this channel plays the news,” you then pressed 4 and 7, “and this plays Telenovelas, my favourite.”

“Ok so it’s like a compressed movie theater screen, but you can watch multiple things at once,” he half asked, half stated.

“Yes, like a compressed movie theater screen,” he stared up into your eyes for a while, and you could feel his curiosity, “Ok, let’s get ready to talk to the sister, first stop suit, next stop ID, and then lunch!” You and Sehun then left the hotel room.

You two had accomplished everything, and you were now standing outside the sister’s house. You knocked, and then the door opened.

“Mrs. Annabelle Williams, FBI Agent Y/S/N, and this is my partner Agent Oh,” you said to the woman at the door.

“Agent Oh?” she asked.

“Yes Oh.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. You snickered a little to yourself. You heard Sehun scoff behind you, because obviously the joke wasn’t as funny as you thought it was. “What can I help you with detectives?”

“We are here because of a case that had happened about 60 years ago,” you had responded. Hoping not to trouble the older woman that was standing in front of her. She seemed of hispanic descent, but she was very pale as well. She had volumized black hair that was curly.

“The suicide of Maria Scott,” Sehun butted in. The whole idea of trying not to trouble the woman went out the window with that comment.

“My sister’s death was not a suicide,” she said as she walked outside and shut the door behind her, “it was a cover-up orchestrated by your beloved Sheriff's Department.”

“What do you mean by that ma’am?” Sehun had asked calmly while looking into her eyes.

“Well, what kind of suicide has injuries such as that? Half of her face was abraded away, and her legs were crushed. Suicides don’t just happen like that,” she continued.

“What do you think caused those injuries to your sister?” you asked sympathetically.

“I think she had been knocked out, and then dragged across the roof of the school.”

“What about her legs?” Sehun urged her to continue further, which seemed to trouble the woman more. You felt her become increasingly more anxious.

“Well you won’t find this in the police report, but there were weights attached to my sister’s legs, so she must have landed directly on her feet.”

“That explains the ecto,” you had turned your head slightly and muttered to Sehun.

“Wait, are you guys here about the string of suicides related to my sister’s? I told my daughter it must be a copycat, that’s why she’s there now,” Mrs. Williams butted in.

“Why is your daughter there right now?” you asked.

“She’s the medical examiner on the case, she’s there to collect evidence. She left about ten minutes ago.”

“Well, thank you Mrs. Williams. We have all we need,” you pushed Sehun around and forced him inside your truck.

As you slowly approached your truck, you became increasingly more worried and fearful. You feared you wouldn’t make it in time. You feared you couldn’t stop Maria, and you feared that no one could stop her. The closer you came to the truck the more your heart raced, the more you could feel your veins throb, and the more you could feel every aspect of your body becoming anxious.

“We weren’t done with the questions, and what did you mean by ‘That explains the ecto’?” Sehun asked you while you started the truck.

“I had done some research on Maria a few days ago, but at that point I had no clue what it meant. Maria was bullied all throughout school. Her bully, was the police chief’s daughter,” you slowly pressed on the gas pedal.

“So she’s been trying to avenge her own death?” Sehun asked.

“Yes.”

“Who killed her?” he asked as he grew more worried about the sudden increase in speed within the car.

“The daughter did.”

“How did you find out about it?”

“Because of the weights on her legs, and the fact that there was no report of it means that Mrs. Williams is correct, this entire case was a cover-up,” at this point you became even more worried that you weren’t fast enough.

“Y/N why are you driving so fast?” At this question you had turned to your right to see Sehun gripping everything he could manage.

“Why do you care? If I crash this car, you won’t die.”

“No but it means my mission won’t be accomplished, so I ask again, why are you driving so fast?”

“Maria targets people in power. Lucy was the principal’s daughter. The other victims were either high up in the school, offspring of people in power, or people with respective jobs.”

“Mrs. Williams’ daughter,” Sehun huffed. At that moment you could feel Sehun start to become very anxious.

“She is there at the school, no police officers are there. Which means-”

“She’s the perfect target.” Sehun muttered. After that comment you pulled your phone out of your pocket and typed in Tao’s number. You could feel time going slower. The rings pounded in your ear while Tao didn’t pick up the phone. It felt like 10 minutes before it went to voicemail. You tried again immediately after, this time it felt even slower. Each heartbeat feeling miles apart. You felt the vibrations from the speaker roll to the back of your brain and resonate there, until you felt the raucous click of Tao finally answering.

“You beckoned, Stink Bug?” he answered sarcastically.

“I need you to get off your ass right now and go to River View Cemetery and salt and burn Maria’s bones,” you panted out at him, the closer you drove to the school the more sick you felt.

“She’s an ectoplasmic ghost, we’re going to need more ammo than that.”

“Well I DON’T FUCKING KNOW. I’m currently driving 15 miles over the speed limit to save someone’s dumb ass. So you are going to have to find out what else you need to get rid of her.”

“Y/N, you need to breathe. I know this is your first case without him, and you’ve the almighty Oh Sehun tagging along as well. I know it’s hard without him, especially now that you have someone tailing you who has no fucking clue what he’s doing. What you need to right now is breathe. You are more than capable of saving the day. You’ve fought hundreds of cases like this before. I will talk to the sister and get the item we need. You go save the day,” and that was when you heard the cacophonous silence that meant Tao had ended the call. Somehow that little pep talk your best friend gave you made you feel so much better and so much more composed.

After what seemed like an aeon, you veered parallel to the school, and slammed on your brakes. “Get out of the car and follow me. Do not leave my side,” your voice became rigid, as you commanded Sehun to not mess anything up.

“You act as if this is my first rodeo, Y/N.”

“I know you can handle yourself, but it’s the girl I’m worried about. If,” you turned to face him and pushed your finger into his chest, “you fuck this up in any way, and we lose her. Just watch me.” He threw up his arms in defense and slowly turned himself away from you. You slowly walked towards the old brick building that towered over you, and entered the opening. Within two steps you stopped in your tracks.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?” Sehun grabbed you by your shoulders and flung you to face him with an abysmal amount of force. “You are literally wasting time right now. We have an entire six story school to search for her!”

“Shhh,” you closed your eyes as you pressed a finger to his lips, “I’m trying to focus,” and so you did. You ceased every sense in your body. You focused on the one thing you needed, and you could feel it. Fear. Pain. Regret. Consolation. Even denial. The feeling of upcoming death. You could feel everything, it wasn’t very strong, yet somehow you could pinpoint where it was coming from.

Your eyes shot open, and your head jerked up. “Roof. She’s on the roof.” You immediately started running toward the exit to the roof where you had found the ectoplasm.

You had reached the stairs when Sehun blurted out, “How did you know?”

“What do you mean?” you asked as you opened up the door to the stairs that led to the roof.

“I mean how in the hell did you find her, especially that fast,” he grasped your wrist before you could start running up the stairs.

“Long story. Just run. Now!” you yelled as you started sprinting, but each step you got closer to the girl, the more pain you felt. The closer you got the more her emotions plagued at you. Even with her emotions getting stronger, you still pushed yourself to get each step in order to reach her. You got closer and closer until you reached the upper door. You swung it forward and ran outside. You found the girl being dragged by her legs towards the edge of the building. You ran towards her and swung your staff at the ghost. You watched as the ghost dissipated into the air. “Wrought iron, bitch,” you panted. You hadn’t thought this far at all. You thought Tao would’ve had Maria gone by this point. You knew that at this point all you had was your quick wit. “Sehun, I need you to get her out of here as fast and far away as you possibly can,” you pulled a knife out of the holster attached to your belt loop, “take this. If my plan doesn’t work and she shows up, use this ok?” He just nodded in response and walked over to the girl’s helpless body. He picked her up and ran to the door. Before he entered the stairwell, he turned to face you. He gave you a look that asked if you were sure about the decision you were making. You nodded slowly, and he ran down the stairs. You were now alone.

“Come get me bitch!” you yelled into the air. Within moments you felt a slight gust of wind near your neck. You gripped your staff towards the lower half, and whirled it backwards towards the feeling. “Oh come on, you’ve got to try harder than that, Maria. I’m sure you can do better.” At this point all you could do was taunt Maria in order to get her focus on her and not the two downstairs.

You heard her chuckle from behind you. You turned to see her drop her head to her shoulders. You gripped your staff and started running towards her. All of a sudden you were flung backwards onto your back, and your staff was at least ten feet to your right. As you went to sit yourself up, Maria grabbed your hair and dragged you closer to the edge. You knew in mere moments your body would be thrown over the edge to fall to your doom.

“Coward!” you yelled trying to appeal to the little bit of humanity she had left while trying to wriggle your head out of her grasp, “You are going to kill me just like they did to you. Where is your creativity. Fight me. If you don’t it’s just a cheap win, isn’t it?” You felt your head slam into the ground. You could hear the gravel being disturbed underneath you as your head made contact.

You felt your head get picked up by your hair again but this time you felt your head being repeatedly slammed into the ground. You could feel the gravel abrade your skin. You could smell the freshly surfaced clay. The taste of iron filled your mouth. As this continued, an idea popped into your head. Iron. You knew it would hurt but at this point you didn’t care. With all the force you could muster in your body, you flipped your body, and spat the blood the blood in her face. You watched her turn into mist before your very eyes.

You feebly stood up and walked yourself over to your staff, as you recognized that this wasn’t over. You were so close, when you were thrown onto the brick wall that held up the door to the stairs. You tried to fight the force that Maria was using, but it failed to accomplish anything. Using this same force, Maria picked you up and slammed you on the ground. You ended up sliding across the gravel so hard that your head hit the ledge of the building.

Maria then appeared in front of you, staring you dead in the eyes. With this look Maria gave you, you conceded. You closed your eyes. You knew it was over. Your only hope was off, saving the other girl. Your only hope.

You opened your eyes to find that Maria was gone, and that a hand was held out in front of you. You grabbed it and you were pulled up to meet... Sehun.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t come back for you, did you?” he asked with a half cocked smile.

“Just a little bit,” you said as you started to wrap your arms around his waist. When he responded to your gesture, you pulled out the shotgun attached to his back, and shot Maria with a salt bullet.

“Oh,” Sehun muttered.

“Sehun,” you paused, “get ready to fight.” You both had turned back to back and fought Maria as she continued jumping in both of your paths. 30 seconds passed when, Sehun had dropped the staff and was flung across the roof, and your head was over the edge of the building. Maria had a hand pressed against your throat and she kept pushing harder and harder. You could feel your airways close, and your breath shorten. Time slowed as you tried gasping for air, and all of a sudden Maria was gone.

You raised yourself to see Sehun still on the ground, on the other side of the roof. At that point in time, you allowed yourself to fall to the ground. Tao had done it, Maria was gone. You were slowly catching your breath when you heard someone say, “You’re not too injured? I don’t have to carry you down the stairs right?” Sehun reached out his hand to help you up again.

“It’s all cosmetic.” you chuckled as he pulled you up off the ground for a second time that night. You picked up the shotgun and staff, and walked down the stairs. Suddenly you realized something. “Where’s the girl?”

“She’s probably still sitting up against a column near the main entrance.” You immediately started running to the front of the building. You saw the girl standing herself up, you ran over and helped her, but you immediately sensed her fear.

“Don’t worry, she’s gone. She’s gone,” you repeated to her.

“Thank you so much,” she huffed.

“It’s just our job Miss,” you paused emphasizing the last part of your sentence.

“Ortega,” she responded.

“We were glad to help, Miss Ortega,” Sehun had finished.

“I do have one question before you go,” she asked, “does that mean you aren’t with the FBI, and you fight ghosts?”

“Yes,” with this response she left, and so did the both of you.

A/N: I apologize for taking so long!!! This chapter was about a month in the making, writing it took a total of 18 hours and editing took 6. So give this series a lot of love!! Also special thanks to @iamjungkooked for helping me with some ideas to get this out on paper.To @viparmytrash22 and @kpopstarsreact for always being there for me when it comes to this story, whether it be editing or chapter titles, or even character description! I love you all so much!!! And the mutual featured in this chapter is... @amazethemaze!!! She is mentioned quite a few times throughout this chapter! I hope you like it!! i love you all have an amazing day/night!!!

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lolainblue · 7 years

Text

Thunderbirds Chapter 27

t/w light smut

I tried to give Jane a quick primer on tour life and rules of the bus while we carried our luggage down. I wished I'd had more time to prepare her, getting crammed into a moving metal box with a group of people that to her were more or less strangers was almost sure to be more than she was bargaining for, but Jared was right, she was in no shape to drive. Alone on quiet unchanging Midwestern highways like that would have done nothing but give her time to ramble around her brain and second guess every decision she had ever made, so it was either leave her here or load her up with us.

Our tour manager, Tony, was already waiting by the bus when we got there and he gave me a look of barely controlled panic when he saw me approaching with Jane, bags in hand. I didn't see Jared anywhere so I doubted anyone had been filled in on the situation yet. They must have been under the impression the two of them were still locked in mortal combat. As soon as I had handed off our gear I went to give Tony a quick explanation and reassure him there would be no fireworks, while I got in one last cigarette. He seemed unconvinced and continued to look around warily until Jared showed up and gave Jane a big hug before explaining the situation himself.

We had been so busy in spending the day sorting out Jane's mess then running to pack and change arrangements that we were the last ones to board. Everyone was pretty surprised to see Jane of course. I explained that she was just going to be with us until Chicago, but they gave me the same anxious looks that Tony had. Once Jared climbed on board though and reassured them that everything was copacetic they started with their antics, teasing all at once like a chaotic twisted chorus.

“Are you going to clear out the junk bunk or just squeeze her in with you?”

“They're little, they can share.”

“Great, a chick on board. Now I can't walk around with my dick out.”

“You walk around with your dick out and I'll fucking punch you in it.”

“Why aren't you guys fighting?”

“I know, that was fun right?”

“I liked it when she called him a whore. Call Jared a whore again Jane.”

I grumbled. “For fuck's sake guys don't run her off before we even get out of the parking lot.” I looked over at Jane but she was smiling at their antics. I suppose after 18 years of Roger it took a lot to ruffle her feathers. She gave me a sly sideways glance before responding.

“Jared knows he's a whore, he doesn't need me to remind him.” She winked at Jared when she said it and he smiled back at her. “And there's nothing little about Shannon.” Her wink was for me this time and her smile was getting bigger by the minute. God, it was great to see her smile. “As for your dicks....” she shrugged and gave a little laugh, “wave them around wherever you want to. It's not like I'll be able to see them. I didn't bring my reading glasses.”

Everyone immediately erupted into roars of laughter. “Oh shit girl it is on!” Matt told her. When the laughter had slowed down, Jared called up to the front of the bus.

“Hey Ben, when's the dinner stop?”

“Other side of St. Louis, about 4 hours,” the driver responded.

Jared turned to Jane. “Do you want to sit up here and scheme with us about what we're going to do about your asshole about-to-be-ex-fiance? Or do you want to go crash for a bit? I know you're tired. Sometimes on the road, you've got to sleep when you can. Did you bring some earplugs? I have some extras if you need them.”

“I really don't feel like dealing with any more of the Angus situation right now,” she told him, her smile already starting to slip. I was a little pissed at him for bringing it up but it was something we were going to have face sooner rather than later. I grabbed her go-bag and laptop case.

“Come on, let's go stash this stuff and we can curl up for a bit, see if you can drift off.”

As we headed back to my bunk a chorus of “No sex on the bus!” was shouted from the front. I just flipped them off without turning around. Everyone was laughing and in good spirits and so far Jane's addition to the traveling crew didn't seem to have had an adverse effect. She seemed to be fitting in just fine. I figured Jared would fill them all in on the details of why she was here so unexpectedly and where the fighting went while we slept. It was better that way, at least Jane didn't have to sit through it again.

The bunk was a snug fit with both of us in there but it was definitely doable. I let Jane get comfortable then wrapped myself around her, pulling her against me to be the little spoon while I tucked her hair back from the side of her face. She just sighed and snuggled into me deeper. After a few minutes of silence she spoke, so softly I could barely hear her.

“I'm so sorry Shannon.”

I kissed her cheek. “Baby what on earth are you sorry for.”

“For the things I thought about you when I saw those videos. I should have known there was more to it. I guess karma really came around for me didn't it?”

“Don't think like that,” I told her. “That already seems like a hundred years ago.”

She turned around in my arms. “Not to me, it doesn't. If I hadn't seen those and thought what I did I never would have gotten involved with Angus. Not like this. This all my stupid mistake. I just keep failing you don't I? Doesn't this feel familiar? Me fucking up and you telling me it's okay? How many times can I ask you to forgive me again before you decide you've had enough? How many times can you forget yet another stupid thing I've done? Because I did this, I got myself into this situation. I really have no one to blame for this but myself.”

I figured since we weren't going to leave the subject alone I would at least get my big question out of the way. “Why Jane? I know you've tried to explain it but I really cannot wrap my head around why you let it get this far. I can barely understand you running off to party like a madwoman to begin with. I really don't understand how you ever let you get yourself mixed up with someone like Angus, even from the start. You must have had some idea of who he really was.”

I could see Jane pausing to gather her thoughts before she responded. “He was very interesting. He was a very different person from everyone I knew and I thought it might be fun to get to know him. Everything with him was a new experience. I got to go places I wouldn't have, meet people I never would have interacted with.”

“Dammit, Jane.” That was the writer in her, always seeking out new experiences, new material, new data. “That might be a reason to get to know someone a little better but it's a lousy reason to include them in your life. Interesting is not always a good thing.”

“Don't say that,” she responded. She pulled her fingers through my hair as she gazed at me affectionately. “If I hadn't been curious about the strange drunk guy who ate all my french fries and bolted when he should have been trying to kiss me I would never have given you my number or gone to that second party with you.”

She had a point but she was missing mine. “You like adventure, I get that. But people aren't adventures Jane. A poorly chosen adventure might have you end up with a broken leg or a little poorer. Maybe needing a few doses of antibiotics. A poorly chosen person in your life can break your heart and soul.”

She brushed her lips against mine, drawing that hand down across my face as she closed her eyes and breathed me in. “I'll take my chances.”

It dawned on me then what a scary, questionable choice I was for her. I was every bit as far out of her comfort zone and range of experience as Angus had been, just in a completely different way. So was Roger, I imagined, once upon a time. I remembered all the stories she had told me about growing up, in her peaceful little conservative town where nothing changed, with her very nice but very traditional family. Her whole life in one county, with people that had known her and her family for generations. County fairs and library fundraisers and Sunday church potlucks. There was safety and stability there. She could have had a pleasant, comfortable life. But she had chased her dreams and defied her fears not just of adventures but of people too. Angus wasn't the first one to have hurt her. He wouldn't be the last. He probably wasn't even the worst. And as sad and broken as she had seemed in that hotel room only a few hours ago she was already forging onward, bouncing back, getting right back on that horse of questionable decisions. If she really wanted to be sure not to be hurt again she'd run the hell away from me too. She should have at least been trying to build some defenses, not letting everyone in where they could hurt her. Not getting on a bus full of virtual strangers and joking with them like they were her new best friends. But that wasn't Jane. Jane wasn't about walls and boundaries and safe choices. She had tried getting smarter and more cautious when she had gone looking for me and that almost kept us apart for good. I knew she would only take that as more evidence that her way was the right way, damn the consequences. Jane took heartbreak as the price of living a full life. I knew she wasn't going to change. She may have looked like a soft little marshmallow but my Janey had a certain emotional fearlessness and an iron will under all that. Tears for her weren't a weakness. They were lessons. For about the hundredth time I appreciated how amazing she was, and how very much I did not deserve her.

I'm not sure how long we slept. When I awoke again the bus was quiet but still moving and Jane was drowsing on my arm, which had fallen asleep. I pulled it out from under her as carefully as I could but I still woke her.

“Sorry babe,” I told her as I kissed her forehead. She just threw one leg over me and snuggled into my chest. I thought she went back to sleep but after a few minutes of trying to get the blood flow back into my arm, I felt her fingers slipping under the bottom of my t-shirt.

“Hey Shannon,” she murmured against my neck, “define “no sex on the bus” for me please.”

I chuckled and drew her face up to mine, diving in for a hungry kiss before answering her. “It means we'll be in Kansas City in a few hours and a real bed in a real hotel room and when we get there I promise I will devote myself entirely to making you scream.”

She continued sliding her hands under my shirt, letting her nails run across the surface of my back. Her lips were against the skin of my neck, her warm breath tickling the sensitive skin there and I could feel my dick stirring despite the futility of the situation. “Janey....”

“Just kiss me Shannon.” she murmured breathlessly. “I just want to feel you. You're still not entirely real to me.” She bit my lower lip and then slipped her tongue into my mouth. Obligingly I kissed her back, sucking her tongue in deeper as I rolled her onto her back. She whimpered softly and crossed her ankles behind me, pulling me against her as tightly as she could. Not that there was room for me to go much of anywhere else.

Knowing there was no chance of this leading to anything more let me slow down and savor her. I ran my fingers over her smooth warm skin as our tongues danced together. I found all the tenderest bits again, committing them to memory like the sweet spot of a favorite drum and then reveling in the way she sighed and shifted against me when I brushed over them. As much as I was aching to be inside her then it was amazing to simply be there with her, lost in the uncomplicated intimacy as our lips fused us together. I remembered the first time I had kissed her, as she stood defiantly in front of me in that crowded house. It had felt like a sort of miracle. I had been sure she was going to pass on me, sure she was going to choose Jared. But when that kiss was over and I pulled my lips away, the little gasp she made and the startled look on her face told me everything I needed to know. She had already been mine. She just hadn't discovered it yet. I was determined to lay claim to her again.

We finally stopped for dinner at some random truck stop just the other side of Kansas City. Jared and I tucked Jane between us in the booth at the attached diner and I found myself sub consciously expecting Maxine to come and take our order. Thankfully Jared left the topic of a certain Australian asshat alone for the duration of the meal. I was surprised at how well Jane was getting along with everyone, the more they teased her the more she threw right back at them and I think she was genuinely enjoying herself. It was a side of her I had only seen in tiny glimpses before. I liked it. At least all the Janey surprises weren't unpleasant.

Once dinner was finished the uncomfortable discussion moratorium apparently ended. I came back inside after my cigarette break to find Jared speaking animatedly and Jane scowling at the tabletop.

“You can't just let him get away with this,” Jared was saying as I walked back into range of the conversation. “He'll just move on to someone else. And if he learns anything from this situation the next woman will be someone with a lot fewer resources and fewer friends and less able to fight back.”

I sat down next to Jane. “You're not thinking about dropping this without getting revenge are you?” I asked her incredulously.

Jane sighed. “I don't know. You know they say the best revenge is living well....”

“... and blah blah blah, revenge bad, forgiveness good, yeah I've heard the philosophers.” I finished impatiently. “Screw that shit. This is not that kind of situation. Jared's right. Someone has to stop this guy.”

“It feels so petty. I just want to get back to my life.” Jane reached over and put her hand on my knee as she said it, a tiny smile at the edge of her lips. I understood that I was what she wanted to get back to. I placed my hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You are getting back to your life,” I reassured her.

Jared got a sudden grin on his face that told me he had just had an idea. “When you don't have time to deal with something yourself, or you don't want to, what do you do?” he asked. We just looked blankly at him. “You delegate!”

“I'm not sure I follow,” Jane replied.

“Look, I'm all for having a little fun at this guy's expense after the way he's treated Jane,” Jared said. “But the real goal here is to make sure he doesn't do this again. To bring him down to a place where he can't victimize someone else. His family is already threatening to cut him off, and if they do that he's done. So all we have to do is make sure that happens.”

“What are you proposing?”

“We delegate. Jane, hire a private detective to get actual proof of all the stuff we've found out. Once it is in hand, get him arrested on drug charges by calling in a tip, shouldn't be that hard from the sounds of things. Of course, he'll think his family is going to bail him out but once he's in custody give them all the stuff the detective finds and let them take it from there. If they're as done with him as you say, that'll be the nail in the coffin. Even if they bail him out of jail he'll probably at the very least be cut off. No money, no family influence, no resources to sucker in another poor woman. End of Angus and you barely have to do a thing. Just let him hang himself.”

I had to admit it had a certain simple elegance to it, and it did allow Jane to keep her hands clean. She wouldn't be doing anything to Angus except showing his family exactly who he was. I looked at her expectantly.

“Know any good private detectives?” she asked with a smile.

"No, but I'm sure we can find one. This requires you keeping up appearances with him though. You can't let him know anything is up until we're ready to strike." Jared looked at her with concern. "Do you think you can do that? Do you think you can keep interacting with him like normal?"

"I can do it," Jane said. "It will leave a bad taste in my mouth but I can do it. But let's get this done quickly. I want to move on. I've wasted enough of my life on this shithead."

@msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli @maliciousalishious @meghan12151977 @snewsome756

#thunderbirds #shannon leto fanfiction #shannon leto fic #jared leto fanfiction #jared leto fic #30 seconds to mars fanfiction

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laguanrodgers · 5 years

Text

While Waiting

(A Short Story by LaGuan R Rodgers)

I never liked when my stepfather would drive me to school. It wasn’t because I was embarrassed by his car; the ’87 Pontiac got us where we needed to be and then some. It was more so how I found him to be weak. He let my mom rule him, and somehow I thought his frayed machismo might find my skin like a plotting ointment. I found myself studying the sky for planes from that backseat window, most of all trying to guess exactly where a given hunk of traveling metal and its passengers were off to. I’m pretty sure my guesses were always confined to the states, as the geography of thinking beyond and what places fit where would get lost just around the time Sean’s car would halt and I’d shuffle to homeroom.

“Can I get you anything else, maestro?” my waiter asks. For the past twenty minutes or so, I’ve been slowly sipping a black coffee and picking at this dry blueberry muffin, waiting for Gianna to arrive. I’m not buying anything else. She is lucky I agreed to come to this damn diner. The parking is so so and some of our most memorable arguments happened in the booths here. Whoever made the menu goes skimp on the omelet and there’s something I don’t trust about their maple syrup like a station with gas prices lower than nearby spots.

“Thanks, buddy, but no I’m ok,” I reply. The waiter has pillows under his eyes, not the glaring hangover or mid-term up all night weights, but somewhat noticeable, especially by another night owl. He has yet to declare his name, and I haven’t cared to ask. I study his veiny hands, and though his short fingernails are without dirt, I suspect he still lets a family member cut his hair. And who the hell is maestro, anyway? I put my head down to tear at the muffin and shift my cup, yet he stays in the same spot. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to the inevitable. The stage where I have to get in his tired face and let him know I’m not with that sugary stuff.

“Their uniforms do nothing for me,” he says.

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask.

“The Trail Blazers’ uniforms,” he answers, pointing up to the flat screen positioned in the corner. A replay of last night’s game versus Oklahoma City is playing with the volume off.

“Red and black work together, but ugh, they can do better with those bending lines that take up most of the jersey. It’s all too…too…too…I don’t know, but once I think of something better, I should reach out to their people.”

Gianna told me the owner of Swan Street is originally from Portland, and the dude has yet to come to grips he is more than 2,600 miles from home. The pennants and postcards on the wall scream of everything Oregon and his Left Coast Is the Best Coast pie is a hit here in WNY. She made me try it the night we first hooked up. I didn’t like it, but I said I did.

“I’m a fashion student at Buff State,” the waiter points out.

Oh, wow, that’s what’s up,” is my reply. I give him a look as if to ask why isn’t he serving other people, yet it’s mid-morning and empty, and the rush from the Larkin Building across the street won’t come about until lunch hour.

“Where do you go?”

“Oh, I’m not in school, right now.”

“Guy, I feel you. It’s not for everybody. When you think about it, they’re just teaching us how to make someone else money. Fashion is the closest thing to independence if you ask me. But I hear there’s a big need for the trades nowadays because all of the dinosaurs our grandparents used to call in the Yellow Pages are retiring, and few young folks are stepping into those jobs, you know.”

“Good point,” I say with a shrug. I forgot to put on my Timex, so I’m starting to stare at the spot where the tan line on my wrist will eventually be. Doing odd landscaping gigs two or three times a week every summer will do that. Gianna has been sending me e-mails of jobs here and there. I’ve filled out a few applications online, yet there’s something discouraging about completing questionnaires where you can’t tell the truth. Where the hell is she? For the past six months, we’ve been doing the distance thing after she moved to Albany for some job in a big library. I can’t remember all the details, but she’s happy and spends less time knitting uneven sweaters for her yorkie and sending me recipes off Pinterest she knows I’ll never make on my own. Today is supposed to be the day we decide.

“Coming!” the waiter whose name is Jackson shouts. I now know this little useless tidbit because a male voice from the kitchen yelled his name while I was staring out the window. Three tulips stand at attention from the flower bed that needs just as much attention as the blueberry muffin ingredients. She must think I have all day.

The entrance door swings open. A toddler boy wearing overalls wobbles over the threshold. His mouth already has stains of juice, and he wants no assistance from his parents who give off this que sera, sera vibe. The man and woman scan the room, and locate me in their tripod scope of discovery, only to flash grins at me before muttering some baby gibberish to the little one, as he has already rung the front counter bell enough to awaken something in the basement of a day failing to officially start.

Hey, fine folks, how are you?” Jackson asks the newest patrons, sort of doing some half-hearted skip to the front. “As you can see we are jam packed, but I’m sure we can find something cozy and comfortable for ya.” Everybody laughs, except the tike and I.

“Oh no…no…no, Brady,” the mother says, smiling once she realizes her little person is running toward my booth. She is too late. He grabs the second menu from the table, and waves it wildly like my grandmother sometimes does with those usher appointed fans during stuffy marathon church services.

“You eat,” is what I make out from the boy. “Him eat, right?”

“I’m so sorry,” the mother says. “He’s a traveler.”

I look at the father who just shakes his head, as if there is more he wishes he could tell me over a Cuban and some bourbon.

By now, the mother comes over to my booth and ushers away her little explorer by the arm.

“Him eat, right?” continues the boy. “Him do it…”

“Yes, honey,” says his mom. “Go to Daddy.”

“This is why I hate going too many places in a day,” the father says in a tone somewhere between madness and unbridled surrender.

“It’s fine,” the mother says. “It really is ok.”

“Well, let’s get you guys seated,” Jackson breaks in, mustering up a manufactured smile he’s most likely perfected in the back kitchen or voguing outside one of his textile classes.

I look at the clock on the wall behind the front counter, and spread some butter on the muffin.

When Gianna moved into her upstairs apartment on Claremont Ave. with her two girlfriends, I helped them. Being her boyfriend, I knew such heavier things would fall to me. We found a way to defy trigonometry, stubbornly bending half painted corners with used furniture and appliances. She is the organized type of XX and that day the Eisenhower in her began to bloom. She elected to drive the U-Haul with Jamie and Allison, as I was content to drive my own car and meet them at the new place. My commander of a woman backed the truck on to the lawn, got out and handed her troupe instructions and goals written on loose-leaf. I put the paper in my back pocket, and just grabbed labeled boxes. The first few trips, I placed them where they needed to be, the carefully taped cardboard containing shampoo, tampons, and razors found their home in the bathroom. Maybe it was because no one else’s boyfriends showed up until I was a sweat stained version of former self, or the way Gianna stood in the downstairs doorway with frustration when her full proof battle maps left no margin for things falling apart or how the summer rain would slap our efforts then back pedal into some distant pocket on the other side of town before I could adequately curse it, but I found myself unashamedly putting boxes in rooms where they didn’t belong. We later ate pizza and drank bottled water on the floor, a collegiate picnic of sorts. Both boyfriends whose names I dismissed looked as if they struggled to please any woman, and their talk of IPAs and invites to join a softball league only made my decision to leave more justifiable. “Oh, before you go, lover, can you help me hang these?” Gianna asked me, as she opened a box marked CLOCKS in black sharpie. It wasn’t her handwriting, and as her and I went room to room hanging ticking numbers with power drill and the dull need to be alone, the thought of that stayed long after I left.

“Hey, Ian,” Gianna says. She leans over and kisses both of my cheeks before sitting down.

“When did you come in? I didn’t even see you.”

“I’m a love ninja,” she declares. “I move in silence.”

“Well, Ms. Storm Shadow, are you having your usual? There’s a new waiter working, and he is full of life.”

“Be nice, lover.”

“What makes you think I’m not.”

“I know you.”

“Do you, really?”

“I’d like to think I know if the man I love is being an asshole or not.”

I still hear the ongoing jabber of my toddler friend from the other side of the diner, and once Jackson discovers I am no longer solo, he darts towards the action.

“You didn’t tell me you were waiting on a lovely guest, my guy,” Jackson shrieks. “Exciting.”

“Good morning,” Gianna says. “Is it still morning? No…wait…it’s technically morning? Sorry my brain is in every county of the state today.”

“No worries, I understand,” Jackson replies. “It’s finals time, and I’m the same way. I’m living the dream, though. Stress and all.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, I think I’ll try something new today.”

“You have to get our new red velvet pancakes,” our waiter urges. “To die for!”

“Hmmm, should I?” She calls my name, but I’m staring at little Brady who is biting his straw and too curious to be held at bay by whatever routine conversation his parents may be conducting.

“Ian?”

‘What’s up, GiGi?” I snap back onstage, knowing the second time she calls me is the important one of the two. I shrug and simply say it’s spring.

“I am a horrible server,” Jackson says. “I didn’t start by asking you what you wanted to drink. I’m so caught up in the vibe of you two chirping birds.” Gianna orders the pancakes and asks for orange juice to come when the food arrives.

“Are we going to do this?” she asks.

“I’m prepared either way,” I say.

“That’s not the right answer. It’s been three months.”

“But how are you feeling?” I ask, picking out blueberries I can find in the torn pieces of muffin.

“Ok, I guess,” she says. “I still get sick, and the new clothes fit now.”

I want to bring up something about how I’ve applied to the latest jobs she’s sent me, but I close my eyes and try to take it in every molecule of air in the building.

“What time do you have to be back tonight?” I ask.

“I don’t. I already called in sick for tomorrow.”

“Go easy, you’re going to need those days later down the road.”

“So you’re saying you do want this, right?”

“I want to keep you happy and occupied.”

I turn at the waist and find the tulips outside the window. I wish I could pick all three and the curtain would close.

“And here you go,” Jackson declares with a smile, waiting for immediate approval. “I present delicious pancakes, your juice and our in-house maple syrup.”

“It looks amazing,” Gianna says.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” It’s as if Jackson wishes he were the stack of crimson flapjacks with a melting cube of butter atop.

“We’ve got all the bases covered for now,” she says. With fork and knife in hand, the woman I met at a farmer’s market four summers ago, puts a piece of pancake to my mouth. I submit to her honor, and chew slowly so I can really give her the truth of it all.

“What do you think?”

“They’re actually really good,” I admit.

She takes a bite and her eyes become big with unexpected glee.

“Boy, you better get one more taste because I can’t promise I’ll save anything else.”

“Go ahead,” I say. “It’s all you. You need it for strength. After all…you know…”

“You act like it’s some sort of plague, Ian.”

“No, I don’t. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“A lot.”

“No shit, man,” she says, now with a tear bubbling by the corner of her eye nearest the window.

“We can make it work.”

“Do you really want it to?”

“I’m here.”

“Have you even thought of names?”

“Of course, I have.” Really I haven’t, and now would be a fantastic time for Jackson to save the scene.

“Have you told your mom?” she asks, still eating.

“Yeah, she knows.”

“What are her thoughts?”

“You know my mom, GiGi.”

“I don’t want to play games.”

“I see no ball or joystick.”

“Answer a question for once in your life,” she shouts. By now, the tears have bullied the breakwall and run southward to a place I have little to no access to. It’s one of those classic embarrassing moments when I sense all eyes are upon us, yet I have no hard evidence to support it other than the intuition that comes from past battlefields still ripe with blood. The Larkin Building traffic infiltrates what was an empty place of business.

“My mother told me to be a man,” I say.

Gianna stares at me for awhile before she finishes the plate of pancakes, only leaving streaks of red mingled with the sappy sauce that is the Oregonian’s special recipe. Without as much time to devote to us any longer, our waiter gives me the check and says he hopes to see us soon. I tell him thank you and good luck with his exams before I make my way to the front counter where there is now a female waitress at the register.

“It seems you made a friend,” Brady’s mom says. “He hasn’t stopped talking about the man who eats by himself.” The family of three prepares to leave the diner, a precautionary measure on the part of the husband and father who doesn’t want to cause a scene I suspect.

“Maybe I’ll see you in this joint sometime soon, little man,” I say to Brady. “Be good for your mommy and daddy.”

I foot the bill and tip, and wait for Gianna to come from the bathroom. I know she will want to take a walk and possibly talk more on what is a pleasant afternoon in early May. Once again, I’m looking out the window where I see Brady and his parents walking to their car. The father has little patience, and if it wasn’t for his wife, who knows where that car would go. She is the reason her child gets away with picking one of the tulips I’ve been staring at all morning. That little boy doesn’t have to take unnecessary long walks. If anything, I am sure he fixates on passing airplanes.

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kdfrqqg · 7 years

Text

Heaven’s Comfort Part 3

Cas x Reader; with Dean & Sam

Word Count: 1863

Fluff

Part 3

Catch up Part 1, Part 2

Days turned into weeks, you had somehow entered into a very loving but sexless relationship with Cas. Neither of you talked about making it anything more than a friendship, you were scared of ruining the new dynamic to your relationship. The original reason for him being with you all the time, didn’t pass the smell test after the first week. The Boys had caught on that Cas was always in your room. Sam and Dean would poke fun and ask ‘where’s your boyfriend’ or ‘make your boyfriend do it.’ You would just smile, you never disputed that he wasn’t your boyfriend; you really didn’t care as long as you could call Cas yours.

“OK, so Cas you need to get these ingredients for this spell.” Sam told him. This was big; a spell to create a weapon that could kill any Alpha. Cas knew what that would mean to the team, just like that he left the bunker and drove away. The next hour or so Sam searched for another case the three of you needed something to fight. “So get this…” Sam said. With those words you knew he had found something. It was probably just a ghost but hey, we needed it to take the edge off and give the team a win. “This one is right in your wheelhouse (Y/N) mysterious death at a local library.”

You used to love the library, now it was just some place to break into to do research, so that you kill a monster.

The three of you packed up and were on the road in less than thirty minutes. Off to Arkansas, you went. The nine hour drive was grueling. Dean was in a good mood. He made multiple stops along the way.

You were spinning through a book rack at a gas station, you picked up a dirty romance novel, while the boys were finding snacks for the road. Sam saw you and said, “Didn’t you always say those are for house wives who aren’t getting any.” You shot him a look. All of a sudden, he got it. He realized that you and Cas hadn’t been intimate. He waited until the three of you got back in the Impala before he said anything. You hated how transparent you had become to the boys, well mainly to Sam.

“So are you saying you guys haven’t…” Sam wanted clarification.

“Nothing.” You closed your eyes and flung your head back, almost in pray position, “We haven’t even kissed!” You exclaimed. You almost wanted Cas to hear you.

“Wait what?!” Dean said confused while turning around, “You guys are always together. He hasn’t kissed you at all. What the hell?”

“I know! This is torture. It has been over three weeks.” You cried out.

“What are you guys doing? Cause if your fine ass was in my bed every night something would be happening.” Dean responded.

You chuckled at Dean’s comment, “Well we read, talk, and snuggle. It is actually wonderful but I don’t know if he will ever make a move. Do angels make moves? Is this my life now? If we never have sex, am I ok with that?” You rambled.

Sam informed you, “You got it bad!” Dean agreed and like that they dropped the subject. You settled into your seat and started to read the romance novel. It was a little dry and silly; the book was about a farm hand Blake and the farmer’s daughter Celeste. It only held your attention for a few chapters before you decided to take a nap.

It was late when you all pulled up to the motel. The front desk staff informed you that they only had one room with two queen beds. You asked if they had an extra cot. Thank goodness, they did you didn’t want to have to sleep on the floor in the sleeping bag again. Before going to bed, you text Cas.

Y/N: Good night! I miss you.

Cas: I miss you too.

Y/N: We r @ the Red Owl Motel in Fayetteville, AR. Ghost hunt we think.

Y/N: stay safe

Cas: I should be done soon finding the ingredients. Stay safe yourself.

You smiled and put the phone away. It was the first night that Cas and you hadn’t spent together since this unusual relationship started.

The next morning everyone was up early, Dean was the first one in the shower. By now modesty had gone out the window, Dean hollered out, “almost done,” Sam gave you the ok to go. Dean exited the shower on one side while you entered the other side. It was a trick you guys had perfected over the years. You washed your body quickly but didn’t wash your long hair that was pinned up to avoid the water.

“Almost done Sammy!” you yelled over the water. You exited the shower while Sam entered. You towel dried off and put on a nude bra and panties before exiting the bathroom. You sat down at the vanity in the main room and spread out all of your cosmetics. You undid your hair and quickly ran the blow dryer though it since some of the strands had gotten wet in the shower. You teased the front of you hair a little for lift and tied it up in the center your head with a hair tie. You braided your hair down and tied it off with another hair tie, and then you wrapped the braid around to make a bun. You pinned the bun up, your look was starting the shape. You forgot how tedious your old look was. You picked out a pale cake style makeup. You used to try to look older since you were one the youngest librarians in your county. After you put your makeup on, you felt at least ten years older. Dean kept staring at you as you transformed from a hunter back into a librarian. His eyes raised as you pulled on a pair of stockings.

“Panty Hose? You are really goin’ all out this time.” Dean indicated.

“It has got to be believable.” You sassed back

A cream blouse, pencil skirt and a pair of heels rounded your outfit. You looked in the mirror, as you put your glasses on and it felt odd seeing your old self come into focus. You thought, ‘I was always supposed to be a hunter.’ You were the best researcher of the group, you used to take kick boxing classes all the time so you were super fit, hell, you dad had you shooting guns since you were eight. Your skills were being wasted doing anything else.

Dean padded your ass real quick, “Shit, if you were my librarian, I would have never left.”

“Be careful Dean. That is property of Cas.” Sam told Dean.

You of course blushed then Dean inquired, “Has Cas ever seen you like this?”

You thought about it, “I don’t think so.” You said as you shook your head.

“Well he is missing out.” Dean replied

You canvassed the area talking to all of the librarians. They thought that you were some Society of Librarians that was researching librarians for a study that they were going to publish next year. The story was so flimsy, you were glad that you spent an extra few minutes on your look to try and be as polished as possible.

It had been four days separated from Cas, he text you multiple times a day to give you updates. You and the boys were still in Arkansas, what you thought to be a ghost was probably now a cursed object. You hated trying to find a cursed object. It was almost 1 am and your phone beeped.

Cas: I’m done. I got everything for the spell.

Y/N: Wonderful! I’ll tell the guys.

Cas: I am in Mayes, OK. Can I join you guys?

Y/N: Sure but I am on a cot remember.

Can: That’s fine. I can be there in about two hours. I don’t want to wake anyone.

Y/N: I’ll leave you a key in the car under the mat.

Everyone was asleep in their beds, including you. Cas snuck into the motel room and quickly undressed to be more comfortable. He pulled up the covers and slid right next to you on the cot. It was a tight fit, you woke up for a moment and looked at him with groggy eyes.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I have just been waiting all week to get back home to you.” Cas whispered.

You put your head on his chest and hummed, “Home” and kissed his chest gently. You loved that he called you his home but you were tired you couldn’t enjoy it. Within moments, you had fallen back to sleep, comfortable and warm in his tight embrace.

Dean woke you, “hey, want the first shower?” Of course you did, you never got the first shower, so you quickly grabbed a bra and pair of panties from your bag and started the shower. You heard Sam, Cas, Dean’s low voices over the water, they were being quiet. You realized that those punks were probably going to try and talk to Cas about your relationship. You couldn’t hear anything but maybe it would be ok if they had a one one with him.

Dean and Sam walked Cas to the farthest part of the hotel. “Hey, Buddy, can we talk?” Dean asked.

“Yes, Dean.” Cas replied.

“We need to be quiet. Cas, man, (Y/N) told us that you haven’t even kissed her yet. What is going on? Do you like her?” Dean wondered.

“I like her a lot. I-I… ahh, really like her.” Cas shyly said.

“Then what is the problem?” Sam probing Cas now.

“Umm… I don’t know. I think I am just scared.” Cas spilled to the guys.

“You’re scared!” Dean said surprised.

“What Dean means is, why are you scared? She is clearly into you.” Sam clarified.

Cas then explained, “(Y/N/N) is wonderful. It’s- It’s just that I have only ever been with one woman.”

Dean interrupted, “April”

“Yes, April and she died and then I have only ever been in love once and she also died.” Cas continued.

“Wait! Who were you in love with?” Dean questioned.

Cas defended himself and shot Dean a look, “Dean, you know I was in love with Meg and she loved me back as best as she could.”

Sam put his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I know she did. So are you afraid that if you tell (Y/N/N) how you feel or if you have sex that she will die.”

“I don’t have the best track record with women.” Cas affirmed.

“That is just silly, Cas. In our line of work, we die tragically. She will probably die, but it won’t be because you loved her. If she is going to die, don’t you think she should know how you at least feel about her. She should die feeling loved.” Dean tried to address his best friends feelings.

Cas pondered, “I guess you are right.”

“Sam, Dean, I am almost done.” You shouted to start the shower train. The three men quickly hugged before starting the day.

I love all the likes and reblogs but I really do want your feedback. Please leave me a comment; let me know what worked or what didn’t. If you hated it let me know what I could do different. It may determine how I write my next fic.

“Give it to me! You know you want to!” Writer winks at reader.

MY MASTER LIST Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Part 4 Part 5

#cas #castiel x reader #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #my writing #spn fan fiction #heaven's comfort series #can x reader x dean x sam #heaven's comfort #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction

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bluegreenamber · 7 years

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The Mirror (3/4)

((AN: Heyyy here's the next chapter. Now if only I could find my motivation again... So yeah, sorry for the wait. It's been crazy busy lately, and updating just completely slipped my mind. Anyways! Hope the content will somewhat make up for it. Enjoy!)) I first met her at the library. It had taken an embarrassingly long time to realize that maybe there was a record of what had happened to the four boys that had previously lived in our house that might explain why some of them were still around… in a way. And that I might just find the record in the library and research those things. When I saw her among the shelves, I felt my whole body react. My face flushed with blood, my limbs froze in place, my eyes widened, and my breath halted in my throat. She was beautiful, perfection in its simplest form. I barely had time to compose myself before she looked straight at me, smiled brightly, and strode over. She introduced herself as Aisling and had to write it down for the spelling because it sounded like “ash-ling.” I smiled as I watched her write it, trying to keep my face from completely revealing every thought and feeling that crossed my mind. I hope it worked; otherwise, she would practically see me thinking, “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” She asked me why I was here today, and I told her. Apparently, she was volunteering here and would be happy to assist me find my records. Just my luck. As we weaved through aisles of bookshelves, she decided to strike up conversation and started talking about the origins of her name. It was Irish, meant “dream” or “vision,” and was actually a genre of poetry. She personally was named after a character in a movie I had never heard of. She promised to show me one day, and I decided our friendship was off to a good start. No thanks to me or my awkward stammering I'm sure. She knew the library really well, so we found the record in… well, record time. We sat at one of the wooden tables with the files, and I started reading over them intently while she helped where she could. There was some… rather interesting stuff. Our house had last belonged to four boys: Edd, Tom, Matt, and Tord. They had formed their bond from a mutual love of art, comedy, and adventures. They went on many such adventures and often documented them through doodles and comics, many examples of which were within the records. But it was those adventures that led to their untimely demise. All four of them died young on the same day. Their bodies were found at home together, and almost all of the autopsy reports were unreadably marked over. So that was a dead end. Most of what I found was pretty useless. Since their deaths had been rather recent, the file was fairly empty. The only other thing that I saw that could possibly have been of any value was the obituaries cut out of a newspaper. They listed the usual things: age, occupation, date and location of death, birth date, accomplishments, family, etc. But what really caught my attention was the things that weren't mentioned. Many vital parts such as cause of death and what happened with the funeral just weren't there. That basically matched up the information marked out from the autopsy reports. I found that very intriguing. When I deemed the files thoroughly searched, Aisling and I returned everything to their proper places. There was yet another awkward moment as neither of us seemed to know what to say or do next. Finally, something came to mind. “So when do you get off?” I asked. Her face lit up in happy surprise. “At three. Which is in…” She checked her phone. “About half an hour.” I grinned. “Do you maybe wanna grab a bite to eat then?” She returned the smile. “Thought you'd never ask.” If I wasn't blushing before, I definitely was now. “Great! I'll just be hanging around in here. Meet me here?” She nodded. We stood there, looking into each other's eyes, for a beat too long, then broke apart. The grin still danced across my face and continued to do so for the next half hour as I browsed the shelves. I couldn't stop checking my phone every ten seconds. Finally, it was three. I had been loitering in our meeting spot for a good five minutes already. And just on time, she appeared, strolling from around a shelf. Another smile dimpled her cheeks as she spotted me. “So where are we going?” she asked as we walked out of the library together. I had been planning my response for a while now. “It's a surprise,” I replied vaguely. Her grin widened. “Excellent.” I was practically floating when I got home that night. Aisling and I had had a wonderful time at this cute little cafe I had taken her to, most of the evening consisting of us talking about everything and bursting into laughter. I had walked her to her house nearby and then nearly skipped the rest of the way home. I'm sure my family would have caught on to my mood immediately and been all over me about it… had they not been occupied by a news story on the TV. There had been a murder of one of the local students. Ben Jameson. He had been a year younger than me, and I could barely remember seeing him briefly in the hallway of my school. He had been on the tall side with dirty blond hair and blue-green eye; everyone considered him very attractive. He had been on the school Junior Varsity basketball team and in the BETA club. The epitome of one of the well-rounded, scholarship-to-a-local-college-just-waiting-to-happen popular kids. Not my crowd. And apparently, he had been stabbed with sharp pieces of glass. Part of the broken mirror in his room to be exact. There had been obvious signs of a struggle but no fingerprints or any other traces left by the murderer. Just a bunch of smashed mirrors. That rung a bell in my head, and I retreated to my room. I searched through the pictures on my phone, and sure enough, there were confirmations to my suspicions. One of the titles that had been written on my brother’s wall that one night was “The Mirror.” So this was almost certainly connected to the four boys. Matt and Tord were left. But I still didn't have enough information on them to figure out who it was or what was happening. Or, more importantly, what they wanted. Maybe it was time to do some more research… The next few days consisted much of the same thing. I went down to the library to research and usually ended up going out with Aisling afterwards. When I got home, there was a new murder story on the news. It was strange. The victims weren't really related or similar. It varied immensely, from old to young, from rich to poor, from ugly to stunningly attractive, from living in one area to living in a place across the county. Any gender, any age, any place, any time, any one. The words “serial killer” were being thrown around a lot lately. This same thing went on for days. After six of them, I thought it was going to continue. But the killer had the misfortune to pick our house as their next target. I was making myself a midnight snack in the kitchen, the microwave the only sound in the sleeping house. Until I heard a hissing next to me. I turned and nearly jumped two feet in the air. Towering over me was what could only be described as some kind of vampiric monster. The guy was easily seven feet tall with flaming red hair under an army cap. He wore black robes over his whitewashed skin. His eyes glowed red as his hair, and one of his arms consisted only of bones as bleached white as his skin. He snarled at me, baring his glistening fangs. I backed up against the counter, snack already forgotten. “Who are you?” I could barely hide the tremor in my voice. “Matt,” he hissed. Okay, that was good. It was willing to talk to me. Maybe I could work something out. “Alright, Matt. What do you want?” I was sure my skin was almost as blanched as his. “To kill you.” Okay, that was not so good. I trembled slightly. “Why?” He leaned in closer, and I had nowhere to retreat. “You're not my type,” he sneered. I doubted humor or reason would work, but it was worth a shot. “How do you know that? We’ve barely even met.” From his expression, I was right in my guess that my words would have no effect. “I can take just one look at you and tell.” I was definitely not comfortable with the proximity. “That's kind of shallow, isn't it?” I tried to keep a joking tone, but I think my fear overrode it. He hissed in disagreement with my words. I was certain he was going to attack when my saving grace came in the form of the microwave going off. He turned slightly, and that temporary distraction was all it took. I sprinted down the hallway and into my room, slamming and locking the door behind me. I could hear him moving, snarling and even breaking mirrors out there. I held my breath in anticipation as I listened for the end, my heart racing in terror. I thought for sure that I'd hear a bang or a rip as Matt attacked my door and removed my last barrier any second now, but it never came. Instead, the door beside mine opened, and my older brother sleepily wandered out. I could hear his half-awake voice through the thin wood. “What is that noise? What's going on?” My breath caught in my throat as I heard another hiss. My brother gasped, and I made the split-second decision to grab the nearest weapon and open my door. I immediately spotted Matt hovering over my terrified brother, who was surrounded by mirror shards on the floor. “Get away from him!” I shouted and threw the shoe in my hand. It bounced off Matt, and the creature didn't even seem to notice. His gaze was fixed on my cowering brother, and it had stopped hissing. Something felt off. I stood there, ready to jump into action but waiting. Matt leaned down over him, but it didn't seem as threatening somehow. I could barely hear the words that came out from between Matt’s fangs from my spot down the hallway. “You're perfect,” he said, almost longingly. Then, to our surprise, he closed the distance between the two of them and planted a soft, short kiss on my brother’s lips. We were stunned into silence. Neither of us moved as he retreated towards my brother’s room. Almost in a trance, we finally wandered over to the open door and watched as Matt walked towards the mirror in the room. He gave us one last toothy grin and stepped into the mirror, disappearing into it as if he had never been here in the first place. I had a feeling he wouldn't be coming back. My brother and I didn't say anything to each other as I went back to my room. In fact, we never talked about the incident. It was the second time he had saved my life from a monster, and we pretended it never happened. As usual, the picture of the four boys greeted me from my bedside table. I stared at it for a good while, still dazed, until I finally fell asleep. Matt was grinning up at me, his smile bright and charming and a mirror gripped in the hand that was sassily resting on his hip.

#writing kat #ew fanfiction

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ginnyzero · 4 years

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Completely Harmless Ch. 60

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Sixty The Race on Scarecrow Hill

Lily eased into the library. Linda, as Godfrey had told her, was slumped over one of the tables snoring. Lily shut the door quietly. She tiptoed over. “Linda,” she murmured. “Linda.” she touched Linda’s shoulder and shook her.

Linda snorted and lifted her head. Her hair pulling out of her bun in tufts. “Huh, what?”

“You fell asleep in the library,” Lily said in a low voice. “Did you try to read all night?”

Linda rubbed her eyes under her glasses. “Researching witches, there’s so much to read.”

There were at least four books around her, thick ones.

Lily put an arm around her shoulders. “They haven’t even moved Saga yet. You have time.”

“Alex,” Linda mumbled.

“Come on.” Lily shoved the chair back. “You can borrow my bed.” She pulled on Linda.

Linda didn’t move.

“Up,” Lily ordered. “Up, Linda.”

Linda struggled to her feet leaning against her. “I think I found something. Five more minutes.”

“To bed, sleep, you can’t help us if you don’t sleep.” Lily rolled her eyes and led her out of the house to the inn. Linda’s moaned and squinted her eyes almost shut against the morning sunshine. Lily shoved Linda into the nearest bottom bunk.

“I can,” Linda mumbled.

Lily tucked the blanket around her shaking her head. She took off Linda’s glasses and put them on a table. “Sweet dreams,” she murmured and tiptoed out.

Two days later, Riley accepted a cup of strong tea from Lily. “We can’t keep up this vigil,” she said as she cradled the cup to her chest. “It’s exhausting.”

“We can work up a better schedule,” Lily promised. “More of us can help. I know it’s hard. There’s nothing we can do until they deliver Saga to Pi.”

“It better be Pi.”

“She’s the only evil witch we know of in the county and we’re everywhere.”

“Can’t get too close or she’ll turn you into a frog,” Riley sounded grumpy. “We’ve had to rescue Frederik already because he keeps trying to get better plant samples.”

Lily rubbed her back. “I’ll spell you.”

“How goes the forging?”

“It goes. Conrad isn’t a tough taskmaster. Alex actually seems interested. More like in the practical application as it comes to Tin Can and horseshoes, not fixing pots or making benches.”

Riley nodded.

“It’s keeping her distracted. I’ve been having her help me train.” Lily fiddled with the arms of her shirt pulling them over her hands. She hugged herself. “We all want this over with.”

“You need your horse as trained as possible,” Riley said sipping at the tea.

Lily snorted. “I think Conrad might find himself with a string of girls to train if what he said is true about we have to make them ourselves to make them the most powerful shoes for our horse.”

“Probably part of the mystical bond and Aideen’s gift.” Riley grinned.

“Of course, when your alien goddess comes from outer space she can’t give you anything practical. It has to be magic that no one else can see or understand.” Lily hunched her shoulders to her ears.

“This isn’t how I expected to spend my summer, that’s for sure,” Riley said stretching her neck to either side.

“The good news is that Linda has found a way to fix Pi once this is over from the books in the library.”

“Oh?”

“You know Scarecrow Hill?”

“The place we had to get bolt cutters to get into from the smugglers because the Mayor threw away the key because his wife turned into an evil witch?”

“There’s a Golden Apple on the top of the hill hanging off the primeval tree.”

“It’s an apple tree.” Riley raised her brows. “Never would have guessed. Not really shaped like an apple tree. Add to that it looks dead.”

“Right and the witches chase us down. Turns out that witches can’t resist Golden Apples. The more evil they are the more they want it.”

“Thus the witches chasing us down.”

Lily picked up the binoculars and looked out towards the rig. Nothing. “Turns out they can’t stand bright light.”

“Are you saying that we already have everything we need to fix our evil witch because you’ve got that bright glowing rocky thing?”

“It’s a crystal.”

“I’ve been here for hours. I can say bright glowing rocky thing.” Riley sniffed.

“So we go up, get the Golden Apple by using the Sun Shard to scare off the witches or illusions of witches, and ride down to Pi.”

“I’m mildly reassured.”

Lily lowered the binoculars. “I hate waiting.”

“I don’t know what they’re waiting for.”

“Negotiating with Pi?”

“Then they have to be doing it during the witching hour.”

Lily turned her head and glowered at her. She nudged Riley with her shoulder.

“Hey, I totally did not intend to pun.”

They burst into laughter.

That evening, Lily’s phone buzzed. It was the girl on duty at Cape West.

“A ship has dropped from the oil rig. There’s a horse on it along with a person. They’re headed for the South Silver Waters,” they said and hung up.

Lily finished her food and ran out the door. She mounted Nimbus and galloped out of the Manor towards the South Gate.

Her phone buzzed again.

Lily fumbled for it. “Lily.”

“They’re passing the Labrynth,” came the report.

Lily urged her horse through the East Glade and into the Golden Wood. She jumped off. “Hide,” she hissed at Nimbus as she ran for the beach.

Nimbus tossed his head and trotted off to find some big yellow bushes with the flowers to hide behind.

Lily scrambled behind some bushes on the beach.

“Good of you to come,” the girl sitting there said.

“This is the best spot if they’re headed towards Pi to land.”

“Shh,” the girl elbowed her.

The small boat scraped up to the shore. Lily texted everyone fingers flying.

A dark rider, it had to be Jessica by the black hood, urged Saga out of the boat. She muttered nasty things at the horse as she got on.

Lily and the girl waited for her to ride through the crack in the cliffs to the Golden Wood before following.

Lily glanced around for Nimbus. Two horses hid behind a bush. She darted over and grabbed Nimbus’ reins and mounted. They followed the Dark Rider on Saga north through the woods trying to keep behind bushes as best they could and from stepping on any rocks so the ground would muffle the sound of the horse’s hooves. The other girl followed them.

Jessica rode Saga through the North Iron Gate and down the hill to the Cauldron Swamp. Saga balked at the opening planting his feet and tossing his head.

“Don’t be a pain now. We could have sent you to Mr. Anwir,” Jessica said and kicked him in the side.

Saga hopped forward hooves clopping on the wood of the jetties to Pi’s house.

Lily and the other girl hid again.

“Now we wait,” Lily murmured.

“Again,” the other girl said.

Alex came riding up. “Are they in there?” She nodded at the opening of the swamp.

“Yep,” Lily said.

“I’ll go find another bush.” Alex grinned and hid on the other side of the swamp opening.

Jessica returned striding out. She vanished before she even reached the Iron Gate.

“Opposite of the Sun Circle, you think?” Lily murmured.

“I have no idea about any of it,” the girl said.

“All right. She’s gone. Thanks for your help.”

“Good luck,” the girl said. “Or as they say here, may Aideen’s light shine upon you.”

“Yeah, that.” Lily grinned.

They trotted together to the middle of the road. Alex joined them.

“Time to get an apple,” Alex said.

“Time to get an apple,” Lily agreed.

They turned their horses and rode off towards Scarecrow Hill. The girl waved at them as she continued onward to Cape West.

“Well, here we go,” Lily said at the bottom of the steep hill with the path winding up it in a spiral. An iron fence guarded one side. Scarecrows on posts were driven into the ground along the fence.

They rode up slowly. Lily unwrapped the Sun Fragment in her saddlebag and wrapped her hand around it. It warmed in her fingers.

Near the top, witches screamed popping out of nowhere on flying brooms. They swooped down towards them shouting and shrieking. They all had the same face.

Lily pulled the Sun Fragment out of her saddlebag and held it up. Light, brighter than the sun, flared in the twilight.

The witches pulled up sharply screaming now for a different reason. They covered their eyes.

Tin Can lunged forward.

Alex grabbed the apple and tugged it off the branch.

Tin Can turned on his feet. He neighed.

“He says let’s get out of here!” Alex shouted.

Lily held the Sun Fragment high and they raced down the hill. The witches screamed in anger and tried to dive bomb them. When that didn’t work, they threw bombs that exploded with a noxious looking green gas when they hit the ground.

The horses ran full out as Lily and Alex guided them around the gas plumes, past the main gate of Scarecrow hill, across the rolling fields and along the road. The witches didn’t turn back until they made it to the bridge.

The horses skidded to a halt panting.

“Holy shit,” Alex breathed. “I don’t know if that was awesomely terrifying or terrifyingly awesome.”

“You must adore rollercoasters and scary movies.”

“And what of it?”

Lily shook her head and patted Nimbus’ neck.

Once they’d regained their breath, the horses started walking to cool down. They stopped outside the Cauldron’s entrance.

“Tin Can doesn’t like it. Not at all,” Alex said.

“Well, let’s hope she can figure out a way to fake turning him and Nimbus into Dark Horses. I don’t think turning a Soul Horse into a Dark Horse for real is a good idea.”

“Definitely not,” Alex said. She paused. “You know, I’ve been thinking we might not need to take Tin Can at all.”

“Oh?”

“Jessica and Red Hood’s horses have to be on the rig. And with Saga and Nimbus, that’d make four horses. I don’t think I need to take Tin Can.”

“You, me, Justin, Anne, and Lisa, that’s five, not four.”

“But we have to send Tin Can back no matter what to open the Gate. It’s too risky. It’d slow the helmsman down.”

“We better talk to Captain Brus and convince him to do a fishing trip just in sight or something.” Lily chewed her lip.

“It’s too many variables. One fake Dark Horse I think we can pass off. Two? They’d notice something is wrong. I can say that he repudiated me or something.” Alex patted his neck.

Tin Can neighed and snorted pawing at the ground.

“I know you’d never do that buddy. We’ve got to make them think you did. You can hang out in the Dale with Starshine and Meteor and Linda while you wait for Concorde.”

Tin Can shook his head rapidly back and forth.

“I know you don’t like it. But I’ve got to protect everyone and that includes you.”

Tin Can sighed.

Lily tucked the Sun Fragment away in her saddlebag wrapping it back in the felt. She urged Nimbus onto the wooden jetty. It was falling apart. “This used to be a lake, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex said as Tin Can followed Nimbus.

The light instantly faded. There were lanterns along the wooden walkways providing illumination. White orbs hovered above the black brackish water.

“How did she do this then?” Lily gestured. “It shouldn’t be this dark even in here at this time of night.”

Fog rolled between the trees deeper in the swamp.

“She had to cut off a spring or something like that.” Alex shrugged.

“What a mess?” Lily mumbled.

A house appeared on more wooden plinths. Or more like a tiny cottage. A cauldron bubbled over a fire and there in a cage was the silhouette of a horse.

They approached cautiously.

“You!” Pi said spinning. She had a green skin, and her hair was a light green. Otherwise, she looked like a normal middle aged woman with a few wrinkled at her eyes. Her black dress swirled around her as she pointed at them. “No. Wait. I don’t know you. But I’m tired of being interrupted. I’ll turn you into a frog and a frog you’ll stay forever and ever to sing for me in my swamp.”

“Or.” Alex held up the apple.

Pi’s eyes widened. “No!” She backed away.

Alex advanced on Tin Can holding out the apple.

Pi trembled in longing or fear. Her eyes wide as she stretched out her hand of it, her other hand trying to tug it back. “I can’t eat that! I can’t! I must resist,” she screeched.

“Mmm, yummy, delicious golden apple.” Alex wiggled her hand back and forth. “Wait, that’s supposed to be golden delicious, never mind.”

“Give it to me!” Pi shouted and snatched it from Alex’s loose grip.

Pi bit down into it, juice sprayed from the apple. She chewed and swallowed eating the apple quickly down to the pith. She shuddered. The green faded from her skin and her hair turned white. She swayed.

“Don’t let her drop the apple pith,” Lily shouted.

Alex leaned forward and grabbed it. “Um, okay, why?”

“Sleeping Widow wants a mate again.”

“Ohhhh, excellent,” Alex said. She backed up and handed it to Lily. “Here, so the horses don’t try to eat it.”

Lily rummaged in her bag and found something plastic to wrap it up in. “There.” She slid off her horse and approached Pi carefully. “Mrs. Pi?”

Pi fell to her knees. “What, what have I done?” She stared at her hands. “I, I,” she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “Klaus, oh, my poor Klaus. What have I done? What have I done?” She rocked back and forth.

Lily quickly wrapped her arms around her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re better now. You’re safe.”

“I did so many terrible things. I drove him away. I, I made Dark Horses. So many terrible things, I couldn’t tell you them all. And for why?”

Lily rubbed her back and looked at Alex.

“What can I do to make up for what I’ve done?”

Alex cleared her throat. “We’ve got a few ideas about that,” she said.

Pi lowered her hands. “You do?”

“Well, number one, you can go to Klaus and tell him you’re sorry.” Lily patted her pockets. “I don’t have any tissues. Why is it that Linda is the only one with tissues?”

Alex rummaged in Tin Can’s saddlebag. “Here, I still have some from the other day.” She held them out to Pi.

Pi took the package with trembling fingers. “Thank you.” She stood slowly. “Who? Who are you? You aren’t the ones who’ve been watching me.”

“We’re the ones who ordered it. Sorry. I’m Lily.” Lily pressed a hand to her chest.

“And I’m Alex, Lightning Circle.”

“You’re a Soul Rider and that must be a Soul Horse,” Pi said as she wiped her eyes and nose. She stared at Tin Can. She turned to Saga. “Oh, you poor thing. I, I can fix you. I won’t ruin another horse. I swear.”

“Um, about that, can you hold off a bit? We sort of need Saga to be, wait, you weren’t done?”

Pi shook her head.

“Is it reversible even if you are done?” Lily asked.

“I, I think so. I’ve done this five times now.”

“But, there are only three Dark Riders.”

“They brought me four horses, I turned them all. I don’t know if there is a fourth rider or not. I, I only ever met the Black Rider.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Alex hissed.

Lily quickly explained the situation.

“Yes. I’m to deliver Saga to Moorland.”

“Can you hold off until we have the keystone?”

“I’ll think of something. They never come themselves,” Pi said. “It will take time to brew the antidotes.”

“Okay, will it be safe for Professor Hayden, Frederik, and the Golden Hedgehogs to come here to help you?” Lily asked.

“Of course.” Pi looked around. “I’ll have to find a way to do something about this swamp.”

“We might want to transfer some of these plants to the Mirror Marsh or make a controlled garden,” Lily rubbed her neck. “They might still come in handy.”

Pi sniffled. “How am I to face Klaus? I’m sure I’m so ugly now.”

Lily looked at her. “I, I’m not sure how you looked before.”

“I was young and beautiful.”

“Well, it’s been ten years. So, you’re older. That’s all,” Lily said. “I, err, don’t have a mirror.”

Alex shook her head. “Not the vain type, sorry.”

“You shouldn’t put off seeing Klaus because of your looks,” Lily scolded. “He loves you and misses you terribly.”

Pi burst into tears and nodded. She dabbed at her eyes with another tissue. “I was so selfish.”

“Look, you’re going to help us free Justin and the other Soul Riders. Um, I need a way to make Nimbus look like a Dark Horse without making him an actual Dark Horse.”

“Oh, well,” Pi peered around Tin Can. “That is going to be a bit more difficult. He’s pale and gold. But that mane, we can call it a mutation or something. It will look fabulous with a dark coat being red orange like that.”

Nimbus tossed his long wavy mane and neighed.

Alex laughed. “He says it’s called fashion. Look it up.”

“Fabio,” Lily muttered.

Pi laughed. It was watery, but it was a laugh.

“If it helps, I’ll take you to Klaus right now,” Lily offered.

“We shouldn’t leave Saga here alone,” Pi said.

“Oh, we’ll be taking him someplace safe,” Alex nodded.

Pi waved her hand and the cage disappeared.

Alex leaned forward and grabbed Saga’s lead rope. “Hey Saga, you know me.”

Saga huffed and nodded.

“We’re going to go get Justin. But you’ve got to stay like this for a bit. Think of it as a disguise. I’ll give you plenty of treats for putting up with it.”

Saga’s head sagged but she seemed to go along with it.

“All right, I’ll get her up to the Baroness’,” Alex said.

“I’ll be back later.”

Alex led Saga away.

Lily helped Pi mount Nimbus and got on in front of her. “You okay back there.”

“I’m fine,” Pi said. “You said something about replacing the primeval tree in the Forgotten Fields.”

“Yep,” Lily said. “The Weeping Widow has been alone a long time.”

“I, I can help with that too. That will help fix what I’ve done.”

“And what Jon Jarl did,” Lily said as Nimbus turned and headed down the walkways away from Pi’s house.

“There’s a bigger house further in. It held too many memories. So, I abandoned it.”

“I kind of wondered about that,” Lily said. “Seemed a bit awkward having a stone house on a wooden platform.”

“It isn’t irreversible. It will take time. This can be a beautiful lake again.” Pi sighed.

They didn’t say anything more. The sun had set and the stars twinkled in the sky. Lily stopped Nimbus in front of Mayor Klaus’ house in the village. “You need any help.”

Pi sniffled. “No. I can take it from here.” She slipped off of Nimbus’ back and hobbled to the door. She held up her hand to knock and froze.

Lily started to get down.

The door opened. Klaus stared at Pi. “Pi?” He croaked.

“Klaus, you, you sound like one of my frogs.”

“Pi!” Klaus shouted. He grabbed her pulling her into the house. The door shut as his lips found hers.

“Well,” Lily said. “I don’t think I can help with that.”

Nimbus whinnied and tossed his head again.

“Let’s get back to the winery.” She patted his neck.

Nimbus trotted off to find the nearest transport. It was a late night after all.

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.

#star stable #star stable online #sso #fan fic #jorvik reimagined #star stable salt #silvergalde reimagined #so I fiddled with the time line a lot #completely harmless #many nods to ruth westside #also pi is offensive as is #made her an older lady instead of a stereotype because really #stereotypes bad #into the last 5 chapters!

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fictionerd · 6 years

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A New Story

Chapter One: Bard - Post 1

“I’m finally free to begin my TRUE adventure.” - Marilene Lavoie

---Last Seed, 16th, 4E 201--- Sing, Divines, of Marilene who from High Rock set out into the sea, Who across the haunted waves did fly to Solitude and Freedom, Sing now that all may learn of youthful spirit which in time may fade, But though the winds of fate may blow against your spirit sputtering Look to her tale and 'gainst that gale square up your back and shout attack, Defy the storm of wind and fate as did our hopeful heroine.

---Last Seed, 17th, 4E 201--- Good morning, Journal. This feels odd, but at the same time comforting. I've not kept a diary since I was a little girl.

Oops, that's right. Melodia say's that you're supposed to call it a "Journal" to feel more adult. Sorry about that. So, where should I begin? I seem to have made an entry last night, but for some reason it's in Cyrodiilic Hexameter.

To transcribe what was said there for those with no art in their soul and to expand upon it a bit: My name is Marilene Lavoie. I am a Breton from a not-quite noble family in High Rock. All my life I adored the tales great heroes and heroines. I longed to be like them. To adventure and make a name for myself. My fondest, most heartfelt dream is that one day a young girl will read stories of my deeds and find in me a friend as I have found in Alessia, Tiber Septim, The Nerevarine, and the Hero of Kvatch.

Unfortunately with the Empire still reeling from the Great War and conflict rife in the land my family wanted to keep me safe at home. So I set forth with a plan. I applied to study at the Bard's College in Solitude and with the help of my friend Melodia's help I was able to get accepted.

It took some convincing, but my parents eventually relented. So I set sail over the Sea of Ghosts and arrived in the city at the first of this year. I've mostly spent that time studying under the teachers at the college. After all, if I plan to make a break for it and seek my story I'll need a reliable way to earn coin. I doubt my family will send me an allowance after I leave the relative safety of Haafingar.

By the -N- Eight! I've just noticed how late in the morning it is. I ought to get to the college. Headmaster Viarmo said he wanted to see me this morning about something important.

By the Eight. I can't believe this. Any of this. I'm positively shaking with nervous energy. Melodia you little Daedra I'd forgotten all about the Tattoo! That's what I get for letting you take me out drinking.

"We need to celebrate your birthday!" she said.

Nevermind that my "Birthday" was months ago.

"I was away at the time! Let's do it now. You're old enough to drink, so drink!"

So I obliged her. She's probably my best friend in Skyrim. To be honest she's probably my best friend in all of Tamriel. I just wish it weren't so easy for her to convince me to do stupid, STUPID things.

I should explain: Yesterday Melodia returned to Solitude after months of being away in Cyrodiil visiting her family and touring the counties as a Bard. She found me first thing and practically dragged me by my twintails to The Winking Skeever to drink with her.

It was, a long night. Somewhere along the way she taught me this trick she'd learned using Alteration Magic. It let's you essentially apply a tattoo without the needles and ink and hassle. At her insistence I gave it a try with a tattoo on the back of my right hand. I was surprisingly good at it.

So what's the problem? Well we got pretty drunk as the night wore on with Melodia buying drinks from what seemed like a bottomless purse. When I woke not only had I forgotten about the tattoo I seem to have forgotten the trick to changing or removing them. Assuming Melodia even taught me that part.

I was fortunate. When Headmaster Viarmo spotted it he complemented the design. I swear the Altmer was grinning. He must have some guess as to who is behind it.

Still it was incredibly embarassing to just walk into the college with a new permanent fixture to my skin and not remember I even had it.

Should one transcribe a sigh in a journal? If I were writing stage direction for an actress I certainly would. I suppose for now this paragraph will suffice to inform you that a sigh belongs between last paragraph and the next. (Note: Revisit this thought later)

So, I suppose you're wondering (Is you the journal or some mysterious future reader?) what it was Viarmo wanted to see me about. Well that's the other half of why I'm physically shaking with nerves.

You see, normally the Bard's College requires a service of its applicants in return for admittance. In my case I had Melodia's recommendation and a humble donation from my family. I'd made it clear to the Headmaster that I would prefer if he found some task for me to accomplish at a later date, and today he's given me such a task.

Jarl Elisif has forbidden the Burning of King Olaf festival. Viarmo believes that if we can share with her "King Olaf's Verse" we may be able to convince her to lift the ban.

I can understand Elisif's feelings. If my love had died I wouldn't want people celebrating something that bears any similarity to their passing either. Perhaps King Olaf's Verse will put light to the situation and one way or another we'll be able to resolve matters.

As for me, I'm FINALLY going to go on an adventure! My first quest. The first labor of Marilene the Bard. I am to retrieve the last remaining copy of King Olaf's Verse from Dead Man's Respite. If, indeed, it still exists.

I must away. I'll need to arm myself if I inted to delve a Nordic tomb. Who knows what terrors one may face. In sunken halls where Nords of old did pace.

Skyrim is a beautiful land. Troubled beneath the surface like so many things of beauty, but this does not diminish its beaty in my eyes. For there is beauty in chaos as suredly as there is beauty in calm.

Since when does passing you on the road constitute "Interfering with official business"? Divines. Some Thalmor can be insufferable.

---Last Seed, 18th, 4E 201--- Oblivion the stories mentioned the smell on occasion, but I didn't think it'd be this bad.

I've undertaken my first heroic feat, though it wasn't the intended retrieval fo the verse. On my way to Dead Man's Respite I found a group of necromancers holed up in an old fort. I could not bring myself to overlook this travesty and so I set to cleansing the place of their vile conjurations. I'll admit that it was a near fight, but as righteousness was on my side there was no way I was going to lose to villains such as these.

I discovered a great many things within their library, but chief among them was a book outlining the art of the spellsword. This is an old Cyrodiilic martial skill that many thought lost in the last two centuries.

It allows one to cast magicka while still armed. I've grasped its most basic mechanics thusfar. This will make my future encounters with villainy much easier.

I've reached Dead Man's Respite. This place looks pretty old. I wonder what I will find within. I wonder if I'll find the verse within.

The Ghost of a Bard! Perhaps Svaknir? The one who penned King Olaf's Verse? I shall follow this spirit and see what it is he needs to show me.

I've been attacked! These things. Walking corpses. Perhaps the Draugr I've heard so much about? They jumped me when I lifted this strange jeweled claw from its pedastle to open the way forward.

I've come upon a sealed door. Either it has been barred to any who enter or the ghost of Svaknir needs me to look elsewhere. There is another path to the right. I shall look there for now. I do wonder, though, what magicks seal this portal. I also wonder if I could figure out how to use them on my bedroom door when Melodia is visiting.

I've found it! King Olaf's Verse! It's here. Parts are damaged, but I'm sure we'll be able to glean something from these ancient pages. Now to return to Viarmo with the good news!

What I put pen to paper to record in this moment is perhaps the most incredible thing to ever happen to me.

After retrieving King Olaf's Verse I followed the gost of Svaknir once more and he unsealed the door. Within was an assemblage of the creatures that jumped me at the entrance, and whom I've been fighting my way through to reach this point.

Svaknir called out to King Olaf to rise and face his vengeance, and one by one the creatures stood and came at us until finally the lid of the Grand Sarcophagus at the top of the tomb flew off and what I can only assume where the remains of King Olaf rose from within.

It was a harrowing battle, but finally we were able to put down the unliving king. I can scarcely believe this. I, Marilene, on her first real adventure have fought alongside the vengeful spirit of a bard put to death for his verse, and against the Undead remains of the very king who sentenced him.

This is the sort of thing stories are made of. It's always been my dream, but I scarcely expected to be involved with such a thing on my first quest.

After the battle with King Olaf I notced this strange wall at the back of his burial chamber. It has markings that almost seem to be stylized talon-scratches. Could these be a language of some sort? I'll make note of this. It could be important later.

---Last Seed, 19th, 4E 201---

As I sit and watch the effigy of King Olaf burn, I think back over the past few days. This is the first moment of clarity I've really had since I woke up on the seventeenth. Melodia. It had to have been her who set all this up. She shows up in town the night before Viarmo sends me out to collect King Olaf's Verse? She insists on celebrating my "birthday" which leads to me sleeping in the next day?

I left Solitude in college robes two days ago. Today I returned in armor. I've been tested by combat, actual combat, in only the brief time I was away from the college. Melodia knew. She must have known. Even now she eats a honey nut treat all the while eyeing me with that mischievous sparkle that tells me she's just gotten one over on me.

I've learned just how dangerous the roads and wilds of Skyrim can be, and am prepared now to travel them. She knew, and by extension Viarmo must have known my real reason for being here. After months of study and practice they've finally seen fit to loose me out into the province.

With the burning of King Olaf I've been officially named Bard by the college. I'm free to travel. Free to perform. Free to use the abilities I've been practicing since this plan first came to my mind.

I'm finally free to begin my TRUE adventure.

#Skyrim #Character Journal #Marilene #Marilene Lavoie #Take Notes Mod

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ginnyzero · 4 years

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Completely Harmless Ch. 41

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

Chapter Forty-One Linda the Answers Woman

Loretta waved a hand. “Linda, are you supposed to be telling us this? The Keepers have always been a fan of the mystery.”

“If you don’t know what they do, you can’t stop them from doing it,” Lily pointed out.

Loretta shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not real.”

“It’s very real, Loretta,” Linda said.

Alex stepped forward. “Linda and I, along with our friends Lisa and Anne, are Soul Riders. A year ago when we were your age, we went up against Dark Core and thought we’d given them a real set back.”

“What does Dark Core have to do with the Keepers of Aideen?”

“You’re getting ahead, Alex.”

Linda nudged Alex’ ankle. Alex stepped back looking sheepish.

Linda raised a hand for silence. “The Keepers of Aideen are broken into four circles. Star, Moon, Sun, and Lightning. Each one protects the knowledge of one aspect of Aideen and can access powers associated with those circles. The Star Circle is her Heart. The Moon Circle is her Wisdom. The Sun Circle is her shield. The Lightning Circle is her Judgement. The power of Aideen and her Light is what keeps the Darkness at bay.”

“Or Garnok,” Alex said.

Linda glowered at her.

“They need to know. We agreed that they needed to know regardless of what Elizabeth or Fripp said,” Alex gestured.

“Anyways, I’ve been doing some reading and research and trying to remember what Anne told me about her trip to Pandoria over a year ago.” Linda bit her lip. “It’s fuzzy and I don’t know why. It shouldn’t be.”

“Did the druids do something?”

“I don’t know. It could be because we got too close to his power,” Linda shoved her glasses up again. “But it’s fuzzy.”

“James was kidnapped and he doesn’t remember a thing about it.” Alex shrugged.

“Okay, so, the stories go that thousands of years ago, aliens crashed here on Jorvik, one of them was Aideen and those with her.” Pauline waved a hand. “Are you saying there was another alien?”

“That would be Garnok and his generals. Some of them escaped, including Mr. Sands,” Linda said. “Mr. Sands started Deep Core, now known as Dark Core, I’m not even sure when. During the late 1800s, he worked on a fishing boat. It’s believed he pulled up a small portion of Garnok. It was after that he started looking more to the sea than to land for whatever he was doing. I’m going about this wrong.”

“Chalk board,” Lily said. “Does anyone have a chalkboard?”

They found a white board.

Lily picked up the markers. “Okay, we’ve got group 1, G.E.D. So far, seems pretty mundane, but annoying. Group 2 is Dark Core, started by an ET named Mr. Sands and is?”

“Trying to free Garnok.”

“Who is I’m going to assume evil,” Lily said and wrote it down. “And is imprisoned.”

“In Pandoria and under the sea all at once. It’s magic. Don’t question it too deeply.”

“Okay, and then we have the Keepers of Aideen who have four circles,” Lily said. “Star, Moon, Sun, and Lightning and their job is?”

“To keep Garnok imprisoned,” Linda answered. “By thwarting Mr. Sands, the other Generals, and their Dark Riders.”

“Seems a lot simpler when you do it that way,” Alex muttered.

“Okay, all three of these groups are dangerous,” Lily capped the marker. “Yes, even the druids. Because the druids don’t want us to know this stuff even though we are the ones that are interacting with Dark Core and G.E.D.. Continue Linda.”

“Yes, they’re dangerous. Pandoria is a plane of magical existence that is right next to ours. And if you know how,” Linda bit her lip.

“Are part of the Sun Circle,” Alex muttered.

“You can travel in and out of Pandoria,” Linda said.

Lily frowned but noted that on the board.

“Our friends, Anne and Lisa, left Jorvik to follow their dreams. They went missing. We’ve learned that they’ve been kidnapped by Dark Core and are in Pandoria,” Linda nodded.

Alex pounded her fist into her palm. “And we’re going to free them.”

“Okay,” Tan spoke up. “This is cool and all I suppose, but what does it matter to us?”

“You have a huge Dark Core site on your beach,” Lily pointed out. “One where they’re trying to steal horses from South Hoof. And we don’t know where they’re taking them if they’re capturing any of the horses, or why.”

“We think it might be connected to Starbreeds.”

“How many of our horses are Starbreeds? And why do the druids want them so much?”

“Starbreeds are horses with a magical connection to Pandoria. If they bond to their Soul Rider, they can talk to you.” Alex pushed her hair out of her face.

“They also have extra stamina and strength,” Linda added. “Making them better competition horses than most.”

“But they can be twisted into Dark Horses if they get in the hands of someone like Mr. Sands,” Alex said. “Or at least, that’s what we think happens to them.”

“So, the druids are trying to protect them. But they already have us as owners. We don’t want to be part of Dark Core,” one girl rolled her eyes.

Alex held up her hands. “Look, all we want you to do is be careful and be on the lookout, while Linda and I come up with a plan to free Lisa and Anne from Pandoria.”

“Which is going to be hard when neither of us is Sun Circle,” Linda mumbled and tucked hair behind her ear.

Lily spoke up. “Ladies, we’re the distraction. We keep Dark Core and G.E.D. busy enough that Mr. Sands, Mr. Kemball, and the like won’t be able to keep their eyes on what Linda and Alex are doing. But we do it carefully and discreetly and within the bounds of the law. We don’t want any of you getting hurt by getting too close.”

“Could any of us be part of the druids or be Soul Riders?”

Linda bit her lip. “I don’t know, honestly.”

Alex shrugged. “Like, they try to make it seem like there are only four Soul Riders a generation, but there are a lot of druids too and some of them seem to know magic and others don’t.”

“So, they’ve kept you in the dark too. Nice,” Riley’s voice was sarcastic.

“Does anyone know how many Dark Riders there are?” One girl asked.

“We know there are three,” Alex said.

“There are probably supposed to be four,” Linda nodded. “One for each Soul Rider. But they don’t have one that we know of. But at the same time, they’ve imprisoned two of ours.”

“They don’t also ride around looking scary in hoods and on black horses with fiery hooves all the time.”

“Nazghal,” Regina murmured.

Everyone around her sighed or nudged her to quit with the pop culture references.

“They look like normal people, normal girls.” Alex said.

“Could they be one of us?”

“The three of them? Not that we know of,” Linda frowned. “I mean, we don’t know how the third and fourth ones are. But we do know Jessica and Katya. I’ve heard no rumors about them lately.”

“I mean,” Linn spoke up. “Sabine’s a bitch and her horse is creepy, but that doesn’t make her evil.”

“It makes her a candidate for being evil,” Alex said. “I knew I never liked her.”

“No one likes Sabine,” one girl said.

“Not even Loretta.”

Loretta huffed and rolled her eyes as everyone laughed.

“Which is a good indication, that Loretta isn’t completely evil,” another said.

Loretta flushed.

Lily held up her hands. “All right, all right, ladies, settle down. Our next big event is the Midsummer Beach Party! So start thinking beach! Think midsummer! How can we make a county wide beach festival with a midsummer theme?”

“We’ve also scheduled the Dew Family Race Riding Challenge during that time,” Luciana spoke up. “So, we should be getting Riders from all over to come run the races in order to earn money for the Dew Family farm.”

“And then, they might come out of hiding and we’ll have room for two more clubs,” Lily said.

Loretta groaned.

“Dismissed!” Lily shouted.

The girls got up all talking rapidly to each other about what they’d learned and the upcoming Midsummer Beach Party. While Rainbow Week had been a huge success, they couldn’t rest on their laurels.

Lily edged closer to Linda and Alex. “So, what is the plan? And what did Elizabeth say?”

“We went to her and she took us to Fripp,” Alex made a face. “Fripp wants confirmation of what we’ve learned from Starshine. I guess we must go carefully or something. Like Starshine’s word isn’t good enough.”

“Elizabeth agrees with him.”

“She’s his little yes woman.”

“But I found this Pandoria Codex in his library and I think it might have some of the answers we need.” Linda quivered in excitement. “I’ve only seen references to this book in the Baroness’ library.”

“You stole a book,” Lily’s lips parted slightly.

“I’ll get it back before he notices,” Linda pushed up her glasses. “This book is really important. It contains a lot of information about Pandoria and the Keepers. It might help me scry out where Anne and Lisa are.”

“Anything on the sun seal thing?”

“You said you found it under Gareth’s statue,” Linda flipped through her clipboard looking for pages she’d photocopied out of books in the library.

“Uh huh,” Lily nodded.

Linda passed her the clipboard so Lily could skim the pages.

“It’s a key I believe to Jon Jarl’s tomb. He was buried behind four seals.” Linda nudged her glasses up with her shoulder and opened the Pandoria Codex. “See, these are the four symbols, and they made keys of them. It was said in one of the journals that Gareth found a lot of artifacts in the walls of Fort Pinta when he rebuilt it. And he kept the one that relates to the sun for himself.”

“Seems a bit of a leap. Why seal it up like that?”

Linda wrinkled her nose. “Well, we think he was buried with a fragment of Aideen’s Light. Elizabeth told me about it once.”

“And this Fragment does?”

“Radiates light and goodness.”

“You mean it’s the Phial of Galadriel that holds the light of Earendil.”

Linda grinned. “Close enough.”

“Okay, I think something is coming together, but I don’t know what. We’ve got a Sun Seal that will get us into Jarl’s Tomb to get a Fragment of the Light of Aideen.”

Linda nodded.

“What did the Weeping Widow want?”

“She says that in order to extend her root system, you’re going to need to give her more power and use the song of Aideen on Aideen’s Harp. She says you can hear it up in the highest point of the mountains above the Silversong at first light.”

“How quaintly specific,” Lily rubbed her forehead. “And how are we to give her more power?”

“She’s a tree,” Alex said. “Water and light.”

Linda turned to her. “You’re a genius.”

“What did I say?”

“We need to use the Fragment of Aideen’s light and Tears of Aideen to give her more power. You’re a genius,” Linda repeated.

Lily shut her eyes and raised her eyebrows. “Ok. That’s great. Good solution. Whatever the Tears of Aideen are. But about this harp.”

“It’s in a museum in Jorvik City. They’re pretty proud of having it. Not that it’s been on display in an age.” Alex grinned and waved a hand. “My home town.”

“And the highest point above the Silversong?”

“I can take you there,” Linda promised.

Riley edged over. “Hi, sorry to interrupt. But you seem to be the answers girl.”

Linda grinned. “Answers girl at your service.”

“Do you know anything about witches?”

“The druids don’t trust them,” Alex said instantly.

“We are having a bit of a witch problem. It’s actually the Mayor’s wife and he doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s turned their mountain lake home into a swamp.” Riley made a face.

“Terrance Rockwell fell in and turned into a zombie,” Ginny said over Riley’s shoulder. “So, if we could get that sorted and cleaned up.”

“Grateful.”

“Very grateful.”

Linda nodded. “I’ll look into it.”

“Then we better get back to the Baroness with the news of the water,” Lily murmured. “Before she wonders what became of us.”

Alex wiped the board down to remove all the information.

They all said good bye to everyone and headed out of Firgrove, everyone shouting and waving at each other as they turned off towards their own home bases.

When they gave the information to the Baroness, she seemed pleased. With it, they would be able to run Dark Core out of the mountains.

Or so she thought.

#star stablee #sso #star stable online #fan fic #jorvik reimagined #star stable salt #silverglade reimagined #completely harmless #many nods to ruth westside

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