#so i would love dome tips on how to stay calm while driving!!

[mochmint]

ok i know i posted a text post already today but i wanted to ask if anyone has any tips for anxiety while driving

[thedeevirus]

Can you write Oswald’s thoughts after finding Ed and Lee bleeding out in the Narrows? I imagine him just rolling his eyes and telling his henchpeople to take ‘em back to the mansion.

Thanks for the ask! It’s slightly different than you requested but I hope you enjoy it :)

My contribution for @summerofgotham Week One: Roommates

Also added to Nygmobblepot Ficlet Collection on AO3

***

‘You’re the latest addition to Gotham’s prestigious ‘Resurrection Club’,Oswald commented, ‘It seems they’ll let anyone in these days’.

 Ed stirred slightly, the blankets feeling almost impossibly heavy on hissweat soaked frame. He gasped as a pain lanced up from the pit of his stomachmaking him instinctively curl in on himself. He blinked blearily, eyes wateringdespite the dim light of the room.

Despite his physical discomfort, the mattress beneath him felt soft and as he inchedupwards to see more of his surroundings, he realised he was wearing silk pyjamas.Beside his bed, Oswald was reclining in a large armchair, flicking though anewspaper. Ed squinted, trying to make out the date on the front page. Oswald,noticing Ed’s attempt, handed him his glasses as he folded the paper down.

 ‘Where-?’ Ed croaked.

‘My base. When? About a week ago’, Oswald recited, flicking up a fingerto count each question, ‘How? My informant found you lying in The Narrows. Why? Goodquestion considering what you pulled at that bank’.

Ed raised an eyebrow at Oswald’s annoyed tone.

‘That was nothing personal and you know it’, Ed said, swallowing hard totry and dispel the thirsty ache in his throat ‘Especially since you were goingto rob us’.

‘It was inconvenient and embarrassing’, Oswald corrected, ‘Still, nice tosee your sense of sarcasm survived intact’.

‘I suppose you want an apology?’ Ed asked, weighing up whether he shouldtry and sit up or not.

He knew why his stomach hurt: his photographic memory had meticulously recordedevery detail of he and Lee’s supposedly fatal interaction but dealing with theeffects was another matter entirely. Ed had never been good with physical discomfort.

‘I want you to admit you were wrong’, Oswald said.

‘You literally defied the laws of nature just so you could say ‘I toldyou so’?’

Oswald shrugged and Ed sighed, ‘Of course you did’.

‘And to show you how Lee would literally rather die than be with you. Iknow they talk about ‘not if you were the last guy on Earth’ but-‘

‘Where is she?’ Ed interjected.

‘Why do you ask?’ Oswald asked airily, eyes narrowing.

‘Is she alright?’ Ed asked, keeping his tone calm despite theambivalence he felt at even asking the question.

He wasn’t sure why he cared whether Lee was alright. She had tried to kill him!He had tried to kill her! He had failed so he should want her dead now. But…becauseshe had outwitted him and caught him by surprise technically she was the victorand was therefore untouchable. She beat him fair and square. No. That wasn’tright. She had cheated! Used his weaker half’s feelings for her and manipulatedhim but he had known that and let her do it and-Ed gasped as pain lanced through his head.Too many questions to deal with right now.

‘Jim Gordon will look after her I’m sure’, Oswald said unconcernedly, ‘She’snot our problem any more’.

Oswald’s use of the word ‘our’ caught Ed’s attention.

‘You saved both of us’, he said.

‘Technically Hugo Strange did’, Oswald said with a resentful grimace, ‘And not for cheap’.

‘Why both of us?’ Ed asked.

‘Delivering Lee to Blueboys’ HQ unharmed bought me seven sets of swatteam gear and an armoured van. She was literally more valuable to me alive’.

‘Blueboys?’

‘Quaint isn’t it?’ Oswald said patronisingly, ‘They’re the group formally knownas the GCPD. Do you disapprove?’

‘Of the GCPD’s new nom de guerre?’

‘No’, Oswald said pointedly, slightly irritated by Ed playing dumb, ‘Of bringing the good Doctor back?’

Ed considered for a moment. He pretended to pick at the patterned bedspreadbut was actually analysing Oswald’s expression out of the corner of his eye.

Oswald watched Ed carefully. As part of their agreement he had promised Jimhe would keep Ed away from Lee. The arrangement suited Oswald just fine. Thewoman’s relationship with Ed had been a disaster from start to finish. It had alwaysbaffled Oswald how Ed could be either a moth or a flame from one minute to thenext. He was his own worst enemy but Oswald’s best friend. So, if Ed decided togo chasing after Lee in the name of revenge, Oswald was honour bound to stophim. To save Ed from himself. Oswald just didn’t fancy saving him from aplethora of GCPD guns led by Lee’s ex-boyfriend with a grudge.

‘She got me fair and square’, Ed finally said, ‘It would be petty andchildish to hold it against her. Even if she used me, got what she wanted thenstabbed me in the stomach’.

Oswald laughed. Ed was about to retort when he began to cough, his fatigue and dehydrationfinal catching up with him.

‘Unprovoked?’ Oswald pressed, head titled, ‘Come on, I know you Ed. Leeprobably just beat you to the punch. Or nearest weapon in this case’.

He offered Ed a glass of water. Ed drank carefully but deeply, savouringthe refreshing cold liquid gliding down his throat.

‘Feeling more clear headed now?’ Oswald asked, taking the half emptyglass away when Ed had finished.

‘Actually, yes’, Ed said with some surprise.

He hadn’t felt such clarity since before Oswald had cryogenically frozen him:as a minor test he answered three riddles in his head, recited Pi to sevenplaces and named each bone in the upper half of the human body from the top ofhis skull down.

‘I took the liberty of asking Hugo Strange to ‘upgrade your hard drive’so to speak’, Oswald explained, ‘It’s my fault you’ve been making such bad choices since you were defrosted’.

‘You mean…I’m truly ‘me’ again?’ Ed asked, hardly daring to hope.

‘Cleared out the last of the cobwebs’, Oswald affirmed, ‘You’re operatingat maximum efficiency again’.

Ed’s smile soured as he remembered the previous results of Strange’s ‘upgrades’. The negatives usually far outweighed the benefits.

‘Is that the only…improvement I should expect?’ he asked, suddenlywishing for a reflective surface.

‘It’s the only one you needed’, Oswald said, patting the bed placatinglyas he picked up on Ed’s misgivings, ‘Removing that ‘lovesickness’ out of yoursystem was child’s play for him.  A littleattempted murder really helps you get over a nasty breakup doesn’t it?’

‘You should know’, Ed said sardonically.

Oswald’s brow furrowed at the jab and he folded his arms.

‘Funny how you didn’t seem to have any problem moving on from the previous loveof your life when Lee came along’.

 ‘And you seem to be having the opposite problem’.

 Oswald sputtered as he searched for a suitably witty rebuttal but haltedwhen Ed held up a hand.

‘Even after everything you still saved me’, Ed said seriously, ‘Thankyou’.

Oswald’s cheeks coloured and he waved a hand dismissively.

‘You would have done the same for me. Oh! That reminds me..’

Ed looked at Oswald quizzically as Oswald cleared his throat.

‘To be honest’, Oswald began in the same conversational tone as a stand-upcomedian, ‘I expected Lee to stab you in the back but give the woman credit, atleast she had the integrity to betray you to your face. I would say I dodged abullet in the past but you definitely didn’t dodge that kn-‘

‘This is why you woke me up isn’t it?’ Ed groaned, ‘Because I can’t fightback. How many of these do you have?’

‘Oh, I’ve been saving them up’, Oswald grinned, ‘Ever since I heardabout your little comedy act about me in the Narrows. Jerome was right about one thing: the secret truly is ‘timing’’.

Ed tried to sit up but fell back instantly with a cry of pain. He inhaleddeeply and slowly until the stabbing sensations in his stomach faded, He couldfeel a bandage around his middle rub against the soft fabric of his pyjamas.

‘You should have left the knife in’, Oswald observed, ‘Strange couldhave fixed you in half the time if he hadn’t needed to repair the internal organs’.

‘Thanks for the tip’, Ed grunted, sitting up slower this time with moresuccess.

‘I’m no forensic expert but I know a bit about stabbing people’, Oswald said, ‘Ifyou were aspiring to be Romeo and Juliet, I’m pretty sure they didn’t kill eachother’.

‘Speaking of killing each other’, Ed said, changing the subject beforeOswald could resume his routine, ‘You seem chipper for someone trapped in alawless hellhole. Judging from the architecture, we seem to be squatting inCity Hall which leads me to assume Jerome’s plan came to fruition’.

‘Correct’, Oswald said appraisingly as he looked up into the highceiling of the domed room they were in, ‘Except for one thing. I’m not trapped.It’s my natural environment’.

‘Quite the nest you’ve chosen’.

‘Cosy isn’t it? I’m already having a room prepared for you don’t worry’.

‘Where have you been sleeping if I’ve been in your bed?’

‘The couch’, Oswald said indicating a plush looking sofa in the cornerof the room with a pillow sitting neatly atop a folded blanket, ‘I figured itwas my turn’.

Ed realised Oswald was referring to when he had been staying in Ed’sapartment and felt a pang of nostalgic melancholy. Things had been simplerthen. Their friendship had evolved so easily. So naturally that Ed had oftenwondered if Penguin had been manipulating him somehow. Abusing Ed’s kindnessand willingness to help him only to bite him later like the old story of the farmerand the viper. Ed gave a humourless laugh. For a self-professed genius he seemedto be making a habit of being wrong.Had Oswald been watching over him while he recovered?

‘That was a long time ago’, Ed said, marvelling at how the tables hadturned.

‘It feels longer than it was’, Oswald said, blinking hard, ‘It’ll benice to have some intelligent conversation for a change. Just like old times’.

‘That reminds me: where’s Butch?’

‘Dead’, Oswald said dispassionately, ‘And I’ve made sure it’ll stick this time’.

Ed saw the relish in Oswald’s eyes despite his neutral expression andput two and two together.

‘And you left Tabitha alive’, Ed said, smiling reminiscently, ‘To live with it.Just like you said you would one day’.

‘You remembered’, Oswald grinned.

‘I’m sorry I missed it’, Ed said.

‘There’ll be other chances’, Oswald said gratifyingly as he rose from hischair, ‘Now, shall we get down to business? Unless of course, you havesomewhere else to be’.

Ed didn’t have to think about his answer.

‘There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Roomie’, he said.

Oswald walked around the bed and pulled on a tassel that Ed had presumedwas simply decoration.

‘Good answer’, Oswald said, as a curtain fell away and light rushed into theroom.

Ed’s bed was beside a large window. Looking through it, Ed could seeinto the entrance hall of the building. People, all bearing hoodedjackets with a penguin in profile on the back, were moving boxes around as a steadystream of them were brought in through City Hall’s large doors. Some men hadclipboards, making notes and directing other people carrying various boxes andbags. Ed could see labelled boxes of cigars, weapons crates and alcohol sittingbeside boxes of more mundane utilities like baby formula, first aid kits,toilet paper. It was as if one half of City Hall was a market for mercenariesand the other a supermarket for the members of the public.

And Oswald could charge whatever he wanted for all of it. Any of it he chose tooffer for sale that is.

Ed looked up at Oswald only to see Oswald was offering him something. Ablack bowler hat decorated with black sequins.

‘Because I’m going to need a master of ceremonies’, Oswald said, ‘For myauctions’.

Ed accepted the hat and tried it on. He sighed as it fit perfectly,feeling more and more like himself with every moment. Every moment with Oswald.

‘Sold’, Ed pronounced, tipping the hat to his partner in crime.

[waywardnerd67]

Writing Your Story: Chap. 6 - Masquerade Gala

Summary: Raelyn must make an appearance to a Masquerade Gala to promote the Supernatural books. Dean accompanies her to the Gala and she runs into a mysterious suitor who literally sweeps her off her feet.   Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel and Raelyn Nichols (OFC) Pairing: Dean X Raelyn (OFC) Warnings: Fluff, Angst,  Word Count: 3750  A/N: I hope y’all are ready for some adorable boyfriend Dean in a tux. As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Raelyn stepped out of the dressing room as Sam was sitting in an oversize chair in the department store. “Wow…” Sam’s eyes traveled her body in the dark forest green gown. “Is that a good wow or a bad wow?” She asked as she twirled around and Sam let out a low whistle. “Good wow. Great wow. That’s the dress, Raelyn.” Seeing Sam’s beaming smile, she looked in the full length mirror and gave herself a once over clapping her hands in approval. The floor length gown had a halter top with a bit of a collar. The green color made her dark green eyes pop out and her porcelain skin shimmer. She liked that it was not too low cut in either the back or front but showed off just enough skin to be sexy. The simple A-line cut of the skirt showed off her hourglass figure perfectly. She went back into the dressing to change into her regular clothes and said, “Sam, thanks for coming with me to dress shop. I just don’t trust Dean to give me the truth on what looks good on me.” Sam chuckled. “No problem, Raelyn. I had fun hanging out with you today.” She smiled walking out of the dressing room and Sam snatched her dress out of her hand to pay for it. “Oh, come on, Sam. I can pay for it myself.” He shook his head, “Nope. I feel like an older brother sending his little sister to the prom. Remind me to give Dean a threatening talking too before you guys leave.” Raelyn started laughing as they walked up to the counter to pay.

Raelyn had her duffel strap over her shoulder and her arm up in the air carrying her dress as she walked into the garage. Sam walked over grabbing the dress from her and laid it in the back seat on top of Dean’s tux so it would not get wrinkled. She set her bag in the trunk next to Dean’s bag. “Got everything?” he asked as she went over her mental checklist and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good to go.” Dean shut the trunk and walked to the driver’s side getting in. Sam opened the passenger door for Raelyn and once she was seated he shut it leaning in through the window. “Be careful and drive safe.” He said as Dean nodded to him. Raelyn smiled at him, “Always.” Sam chuckled and tapped the top of the Impala as Dean started the engine. Raelyn waved as they drove out of the garage and Sam closed the large doors. Raelyn was looking through her bookbag nestle between her legs on the floorboard. She pulled out her Bluetooth speaker and set it on the seat between her and Dean. He glanced down at it and back up at her. “I don’t want to spend six hours with my headphones on being rude. Figured I would play my music for the both of us.” She gave him a cheesy smile as he chuckled. As she browsed her playlists Dean spoke up, “Play your favorite song for me.”

Raelyn sat for moment thinking and then started playing Fitz and The Tantrums ‘Hand Clap’. Raelyn started singing and clapping along to the song as Dean was laughing. Raelyn loved seeing Dean relaxed and happy. He had one hand on the steering wheel while the other was resting out the open window. His smile was breathtaking because it was genuine. Over the next several hours they listened to music, talked, stop and ate at one of Dean’s favorite burger places in on the border of Kansas and Colorado. They pulled into the hotel parking lot in the late evening and seeing Dean’s face as he walked into the hotel suite was hilarious. The gala organizers had given Raelyn a complimentary suite with a large living area, bedroom with a king size bed and a jacuzzi bathtub that was calling her name. Dean walked around the room in awe and immediately flopped down on the sofa. “Man, this place is amazing. Motel rooms will never be the same.” She chuckled as she set her bag on the bed and hung her dress up on the back of the bedroom door. As Dean ordered room service for dinner, Raelyn took a long bath and let the jets in the tub relax her aching muscles. When she walked out in her pajama shorts and oversized t-shirt hearing Dean on the phone.

“Sammy, you should see this room. There’s little mints on the pillows and the bed is memory foam.” Raelyn rolled her eyes and answered the door when there was a knock. A small cart was rolled in by a waiter and she signed for the food giving the waiter a tip in cash. She lifted the larger dome to see a bacon pizza that smelled delicious. She then lifted the second small dome to see a large chef salad with two sides of ranch dressing. “I know you don’t like eating greasy food all the time so I also got you a salad. Did I do alright?” Dean’s voice startled her but she looked up at him as he took a slice of pizza and bit into it. She nodded picking up the salad and dressing heading towards the sofa. They sat in silence eating until Raelyn’s phone rang. “Hey Eric.” She watched Dean look over to her and cocked one eyebrow up. “Just wanted to make sure you got into town. Isn’t the room amazing?” She chuckled, “Yes, the room is amazing. What time do I need to be up and presentable by?” She asked as Dean was now tilting his head to one side. “The hair and make-up team will be there around three o’clock tomorrow so be showered and ready by then. I also need to know your date’s name.” She looked over to Dean, “My date’s name is Dean Wesson. I should mention that he likes to lead a private life so no pictures please.” She listened to Eric groan, “Fine, but then you have to walk the red carpet by yourself then.” Now it was Raelyn’s turn to groan. “That’s fine Eric, now I would like to go and finish my dinner and go to sleep.” She ended the call with a small growl. “My agent is a pain in the ass but he is part of the reason I am successful.”

Dean let out a small laugh, “Dean Wesson, really?” She rolled her eyes as she took a few more bites of her salad. “What was the whole thing about pictures?” he asked as she got up putting her bowl back on the tray. “There is a red carpet entrance that is filled with press. Normally, the ones who are invited walk the red carpet, talk with reporters and pose for pictures with their dates. I always walk alone because I never like being linked to anyone. A man in your line of work doesn’t need any publicity.” She turned to see Dean was deep in thought, “What?” she asked. “I’ll walk down with you. I don’t care about my pictures being taken. Hate to lose an opportunity to show off how a grunt like me could possibly get a woman like you.” She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. He had rendered her speechless. “Anyway, we should probably go to bed so we can well be rested for tomorrow. I’ll take the sofa.” Dean started to pull out a pair of sweatpants to change into from his bag. Raelyn walked up to him and hugged him taking him completely off guard. “What is this for?” he chuckled. “For being understanding and going with the flow of everything. So, basically just being you.” She smiled up at him as he blushed. As he was in the bathroom she crawled into bed leaving the door open so they could see one another but as she laid her head down on the fluffiest pillow she had ever felt she drifted off to sleep.

Raelyn tried to move but felt her hands bound behind her. She looked around but everything was blurry and there was a long ringing in her head. “Come on, wake up so I can see the panic in your eyes.” Hearing the familiar gravelly voice her eyes snapped open. She tried to scream but was unable to. She saw a body lying in front of her. Judging by the length of his body and long sandy brown hair she was looking at Sam. Raelyn looked around the room and saw Castiel in a corner trying to get back up but the Hooded Man punched him repeatedly causing him to fall back into the corner. She screamed into the rag that was tie around her mouth. “Stay down angel boy. I would hate killing you earlier than I had planned.” He looked over to Raelyn and she heard him snickering. “Ah, she’s awake. Fantastic, now the real fun can start.” He cuffed Castiel to a drain pipe that was near him and Castiel struggled against the restraints. “They have angel warding on them so no popping off.” The Hooded Man stated as he tied Sam’s hands behind his back and his feet to together. “Now, wait right there so I can get this show on the road.” He walked out of the room and Raelyn vigorously tried to push the rag from her mouth and down on her chin with her tongue and lips. Once it was below her lip she looked to Castiel, “Where are we?” Castiel had blood covering majority of his face and his voice was cracking as he spoke, “An old house near Kansas City. Raelyn, I should have known. I should have warned you.” She heard the Hooded Man coming back. He was dragging an unconscious Dean into the room who was bound at his hands and feet. Raelyn looked up into the pitch black hood only seeing electric blue eyes. “This… this is for you Raelyn.” He seethed as he brought out a jagged knife. Dean was coming to as he laid facing Raelyn. Tears streaming down her cheeks as the Hooded Man stood behind him bring the knife down into Dean’s chest. “Raelyn, I…”

Raelyn shot up screaming and sobbing. “Raelyn! Shh, Raelyn it’s okay. I got you.” Dean was holding her as she cried into his chest. After a few minutes she finally calm down. Dean got up to get her a bottle of water and a washcloth. She took a few sips of water as Dean carefully wiped her forehead and cheeks with the cool washcloth. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch trying to slow her rapidly beating heart. “Another nightmare?” She nodded taking a deep breath. “Do you want to talk about it?” She looked up into his worried eyes and she flashed to seeing him being stabbed. She shook her head as tears began prickling at her eyes again. “Okay. You don’t have too. I will just be right on the couch if you need me.” He went to get up but she grabbed his arm. “Please stay.” Her voice was just above a whisper but filled with anxiety. Dean nodded as he climbed into the bed next to her. They faced once another and he gently ran his fingers through her hair. The repetitive motion helped Raelyn to relax enough to fall back asleep. The only thing she dreamed of was fields of endless shades of green.

The next morning, Raelyn woke up to Dean already being up, showered and dressed. He was acting like a kid on Christmas morning getting her up and dressed. She pulled a beanie down over her hair and was dragged by Dean out the door. The walked around downtown Denver getting brunch at a local hole-in-the-wall restaurant. They went on a tourist buggy ride that took them to a breathtaking overlook to see the mountains. Raelyn was staring off when she heard a familiar snap of an iPhone camera taking a picture. She slowly turned to Dean who had taken a picture of her and his red cheeks gave away his guilt. She laughed and stood in front of him with her own camera in selfie mode snapping a picture of the two of them. The tour guide offered to take a picture of them in front of the mountain and Dean pulled her into his side with his arm around her shoulders. Around two o’clock they came back to their hotel to relax before the glam squad came to make Raelyn into a real girl. They were sitting on the sofa at opposite ends watching a movie on tv. He would glance at her and when she would glance at him he’d turn his head quickly his cheeks turning pink.

Promptly at three o’clock Maxi and Drea came waltzing into the room like they owned the place. Maxi pushed Raelyn into the bedroom to start getting her ready while Drea fussed over Dean. His terrified face was the last image she saw as Maxi closed the doors. “So, when did you meet Mr. Dreamboat?” Raelyn loved Maxi but she was always nosey. “We meet a few months ago. He is just a friend and doing me a favor by escorting me to this event.” Maxi scoffed as she began to work on Raelyn’s hair. “You keep telling yourself that he’s just a friend, but from the few moments I saw you two in the same room he wants more.” Raelyn gave her a pointed look through the mirror and Maxi held her hands up, “Okay, okay I’m shutting up. I think I’m going to keep your hair simple tonight. A light curl at the ends and down with a longer swoop bang.” Raelyn smiled nodding as she sat back and enjoyed being pampered. Soon after Drea came in to do her make-up. “Your man in there is stubborn but I wore him down.” Raelyn smacked her forehead, “Oh jeez. First, he is not my man, he is just a friend. Secondly, what did you do to him Drea?” She chuckled as she started applying a light foundation on Raelyn’s face. “I did his hair and put some product in it. Really, I could have been worse but you would have thought I was killing him.” Raelyn was full on laughing now thinking of Dean putting up a fuss about having products in his hair. Drea always raved to Raelyn about her perfect skin and how she never had to use too much make-up on her to glam her up. “It’s women like you that put me out of business. Okay, now go slip into your dress.”

After a thousand compliments from the girls and a few touch ups. Raelyn stepped out of the bedroom ready to go. She looked around the living area to see where Dean was when he came walking in through the door. He stopped suddenly when his eyes landed on her and she stood motionless seeing him in a traditional tux. “Oh yeah they’re ‘just friends’.” Maxi and Drea said at the same time as Raelyn rolled her eyes at them. “Thank you for making me look like a girl. You can now leave to gossip all about me in your own room.” Raelyn said as Dean opened the door for them, “Goodnight ladies and uh, thanks for the hair gunk.” Drea winked at him as she passed him. Once they were alone in the hotel room an awkward tension started building between them. “I was going to pour myself a drink would you like one?” he asked as she nodded. She admired him as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. The tux fit him perfectly showing off his muscular body but especially his broad shoulders. When Raelyn looked up to his hair she realized why Drea was so proud of herself. Raelyn had confided in them one time that she was a sucker for guys with a fauxhawk and she had styled Dean’s hair just as so. Dean handed her a glass and held his up, “To a night of shining a spotlight on an amazing woman.” Raelyn clinked her glass against his.

A limo was sent to pick them up and Dean acted like the perfect gentleman helping her get in and out of the limo, holding her clutch and hooking her arm in his. When they approached the red carpet a tall African-American man came up to them. “Damn Raelyn, you are going to knock the socks off of these reporters. You must be Dean. I’m Eric Collins, Raelyn’s agent.” The two men shook hands and Eric guided them to the beginning of the red carpet. “Dean, you’ll stick back here with me for a few minutes while she answers some questions and then get ready to be blind for about an hour after all the flashes.” Dean chuckled nervously but then smiled down at Raelyn, “Knock ‘em dead.” She smirked up at him and made her way through the reporter line. Raelyn answer questions about her current novel and teasing about her new novel coming out later in the year.

As she approached the last reporter she saw Dean waiting for her talking with Eric. “So, Raelyn, what do you feel is behind the success of the Supernatural series?” Raelyn smiled at the reporter and glanced over to Dean thinking of all the amazing and tragic events in his life. “I believe the series is successful because the characters are relatable. Even if monsters are not real the emotions and decisions Sam and Dean go through are relatable to everyone. They inspire people all around the world to always keep fighting and that they are never alone in their personal battles.” Raelyn thanked the reporter as she stepped over to Dean and they followed Eric to the photographers. Dean slipped his arm behind her with his hand resting on her hip as camera flashes started going off like crazy. They smiled and posed for a few minutes as people yelled to get their attention. Dean leaned down and whispered in her ear, “My cheeks are hurting and I really think I’m going blind.” Raelyn started giggling as they walked off the red carpet and into the venue. There was a check-in table where Eric gave them all their names then they were directed to a table with a bunch of masks. She picked a simple black one for Dean to wear making him sexier and more mysterious than he already was. There was a forest green mask with a feather on the side that she put on and when she faced Dean she watched him suck in a quick breath. She blushed and hooked her arm with his.

They mingled with a few of her acquaintances from the publishing company who handled her books. They sat at a table with Eric and a few others from the company and chatted as they ate an incredible steak dinner. Dean seem to easily chat with anyone which she admired. Suddenly, she felt a chill run down her spine as if she was being watched. She slowly glanced around not seeing anyone and she shrugged off the feeling. Once the dinner portion was over the President of the National Writers Association made a short speech and then a live band started playing while people danced. A few songs in they played a slow song and Dean stood up hold out his hand, “Care to dance with me?” Raelyn bit her bottom lip and nodded. He led her onto the dancefloor and put his hand on the small of back while he held her other hand slowly swaying them from side to side. “Don’t laugh but I never really danced with anyone before so I’m sorry if I step on your toes or something.” Raelyn chuckled, “You’re doing great Dean. Honestly, you blend right in with everyone as if you were more a part of this world than I am.” He rested his cheek against her ear pulling her closer to him. Raelyn could feel his body tense up slightly as he was about to say something when a gentleman tapped his shoulder.

“May I cut in? I’m a big fan of Miss Nichols.” The gentleman asked as Dean glanced down at her to see if it was okay. She shrugged and then nodded, “Take care of her because I’ll be back for her.” Dean said as he let the man cut in and walked off towards the bar. Raelyn looked up at the man seeing his light blue eyes shine through his lacey black mask. He seemed familiar to her and she was becoming more uncomfortable by the second in his arms. She looked around for Dean and could not see him anywhere. “He is preoccupied and won’t come to your rescue.” As soon as she heard his voice she began to tremble. She felt a piercing pain in her lower back as he pressed a sharp object against her. “Who are you?” she asked as he smiled down at her. Raelyn was starting to have the feeling a déjà vu rising in her. “Not yet, Raelyn. You’ll find out soon enough. You will watch your perfect world crumble and then you will feel the same as I have.”

She knew what was going to happen next, but she could not look away from his eyes. They flashed an electric blue then glossed over to pitch black. “This is all because of you, Raelyn. You are to blame for my life, for my decisions and ultimately for our deaths.” He seethed as he held her arm tightly. She could feel it starting to bruise leaving his hand print on her porcelain skin. “Stop it, please. What did I ever do to you?” she begged and she could feel his body tensing up with anger. “Everything. You did everything to me and I hate you.” He started to drag her towards an exit and no one around her was paying attention to her distress. She went to yell for Dean but the man put his large hand over her mouth, “Shh. This will all be over soon.” He dragged her out the exit door as she struggled against him. The next thing she felt was an intense pain across her face and then everything went black.

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @carryonmywaywardcaptain @rosethesupernaturalhunter @anotherwaywardsister @ladywinchester1967 @1967-essentialghoul @weirdoblogger69

[0ssuary]

Ossuary is a witch-scifi thriller following Rho’ki, an agender priest whose primary temple duties are funerary rites. They prepare the dead for interment and move the eventual skeletal remains into the temple ossuary. Though their world has advanced technologies, ubiquitous in the distant city-states, Rho’ki’s village, where they live with their partner, is something of a cultural conservation effort–one of a remaining few–limiting their assimilation with the outside world and living closely to the traditional ways of their ancestors. All is nearly idyllic until Rho’ki finds a small, unidentifiable device among the bones of a passed-on soul, a device no one was ever meant to find, and that dangerous people want back…

Rho’ki’s fingers and the tip of their nose are numb. The morning had been calm and crisp, but the last stretch of winter has dug its heels in and the afternoon had turned to blustery, the evening bitterly cold. The short days don’t help much. The sun had just begun to bob over the horizon as Rho’ki climbed the temple steps, and it had been gone again for several hours before they were leaving for home again. It’s not weather Handein is prepared for. A thick mantle of silver clouds has been creeping slowly out of the distance from over the forests and the elders say it looks like snow. If it is, it will be the first in the region in almost three decades.

Today had been an interment day. Rho’ki and a group of other priests and dedicants had pulled carts out to the burial caves and returned with a few dozen bodies, decayed to little more than bones, removing the remains from their shrouds and transferring them to the temple ossuary behind the towering idol of the Death Goddess, passing the empty shrouds on to Her priests. Walking in the dark across the rolling fields between town and home, Rho’ki can see the fire up on the ridge at Her secondary shrine, the shadow of robed figures passing in front of the flame as they burn the shrouds and herbs under the full Grey Moon. The Pale and Green Moons are only slivers, but the Grey Moon is plenty enough to see by, and they know the way well, though the journey feels longer tonight. The cold has persisted all day and they want to be inside, wrapped in blankets, huddled around a heater. Even once they had returned to the temple from the burial caves, the temple was hardly warmer. There were heaters moved inside the main sanctuary, but they had been prioritized to the two babies being born in the shrine of the Creatrix, and there is so much space to heat, they were largely ineffective outside of a tight radius from them. Rho'ki had settled for bundling up, keeping on leggings, a hooded pullover, and thick socks under their usual vestments. Though technically not disrespectful so long as they were still without shoes, it felt wrong somehow. Rho'ki had lived their whole life with the temple’s flagstones under their bare feet. They are ready for this cold weather to break.

Cresting the last hill, Rho’ki sees their small house with a light on in the front window and a pillar of smoke rising from the hearth’s chimney.

Their pace quickens and when they are finally stepping inside, the cozy warmth and smell of broth simmering on the stove makes them sigh out loud. They shed their boots , scarf, coat, and cane by the door and enter the main room, soft music playing from where Feana is seated with a long blouse draped across his lap, stitching a lotus into the collar in vibrant coral thread. There are small containers of beads and a box of thread and needles around him, as well as his communicator pad playing the music. Rho’ki saves him the trouble of trying to move everything and get up, coming over to him and leaning down to kiss him hello. “I made potato stew!”

Rho’ki smiles and gives him another short peck. “It smells nice. Should I stir it?”

Feana bobs his head to the side in a sheepish gesture. “Probably wouldn’t hurt.”

Laughing softly, Rho’ki goes to wash their hands. They had done so before leaving the temple but faintly on their fingers, they can still feel the sheen of fat that coats the returning bare bones. Feana calls to them as they lift the lid of the pot and stir the stew, leaning in to let the steam hit their face and get a good sniff of it, hungry. “How was temple?”

“Very cold. It was hard to focus. How was the shop?” Grabbing a ladle, they decide it looks done enough and fill two bowls, pulling some flatbreads out of the cupboard and ripping them into quarters, tucking them into the thick, fragrant stew. Feana puts his things out of the way for now and turns off the music, taking the bowl Rho’ki offers him as they come to sit down next to him, both of them saying a quick prayer.

“Oh, the shop wasn’t much different. My fingers were getting stiff and everyone was holed up inside, anyway, so I loaned my heater to the school and came home early.”

“Mm,” Rho’ki hums around a mouthful. “Mahai blood is too thin for winters like this.”

They sit together and eat while talking about their day, musing on the possible snow and even colder days that may be ahead. They both remember the last snow, they had still been children, and part of that childish glee makes the chance of snow exciting, despite how insufferable the temperature is already. Rho’ki remembers that while it had essentially shut down Handein, the snow had been very lovely to look at for the short while it was around. Any inconvenience would admittedly be worth the novelty of seeing the slow drift of white flakes again, the fields blanketed with it.

When they have finished eating, Rho’ki takes their bowls and washes up, putting away what’s left and going to the altar to decompress so they can go and get ready for bed. They clean the morning offerings away and empty their pockets into the small dish they keep for personal effects: a smooth green palm stone, a sachet of herbs, a small square of fabric Feana had stitched with the motifs of Rho’ki’s favorite myth, a prayer coin. It’s all the usual things they carry, but there are two additional small items today. A thin tin disc with a six digit number stamped into it, and an unidentifiable object, shaped vaguely like a key, with one end that looks like a sort of data connector. It is flat and dull grey, with a looped top and a blue half dome of what appears to be glass or polished stone at its center.

They’re embarrassed they brought it home. When bodies are taken to the burial caves, they are left with a metal tag to identify them later if necessary. When the body returns, only bone and occasionally dried, mummified tissue, the shrouds are opened and the skeleton is carefully, lovingly removed and set on a tray, carried through a veil of smoke from burning sacred herbs, and placed into eternal anonymity among the other near millenia worth of bones in the temple ossuary. Now and then, they find surgical screws, replaced joints, the occasional bit of body jewelry and such. When Rho’ki dies and their remains are brought back to rest among the others, the priest interring them will find a right leg held together by rods and screws, a hip mended with a steel plate. Sometimes the extra bits are returned to living relatives.

But Rho’ki had never seen anything quite like this little curiosity. It was nestled between two ribs, against a knobbed bead of the spine, and when they had first plucked it out, it had been a whole disc. They had studied it and picked gently at the evident seams, trying to pry at it with a fingernail, but when they squeezed the domed blue center, it had opened with a quiet click, and folded out into the key. Or something? They don’t know, which is why they had tucked it away to check the register later, to see who this person had been so they could return the item to whomever they had perhaps left behind, but they had left their pullover on to combat the cold and aren’t used to having pockets while presiding. They had quickly forgotten about it.

Turning it over in their hands, Rho’ki takes the perhaps-a-key over to Feana, offering it to him. “Does this look familiar to you?”

Feana sets his embroidery down in his lap and takes it, squinting at it for a moment. “It looks… sort of like a data drive?”

“That’s what I thought, too, but not quite?”

“Mm, there aren’t enough prongs in the connector. It’s got the right shape, though. What is it?” He hands it back and Rho’ki shrugs, explaining the origins. Feana’s brows knit down over the bridge of his nose. “Was it in the body?”

Rho’ki shrugs again. “It seems like it, yes.”

Feana reaches his hand out and grabs his communicator with the other, tapping the clear screen to wake it. Rho’ki gives the thing back to him and Feana looks at the end again. “I can try and see if it will connect, and if it reads anything.” It does slide into the data port, though it isn’t the snuggest fit. After a moment, the blue center glows, staying lit for a few seconds, and then slowly flashing several times before going out, but nothing happens. Feana checks the drive to see if anything is registering with the pad. “It doesn’t see it as anything, it’s like nothing’s plugged in.” He pulls it out and gives Rho’ki back the device and they purse their lips, disappointed, folding it back into its coin shape with a click.

“Can I borrow that for a second, then? I want to check the records.” They sit and Feana hands them the pad, having to help a little to remind them how to access the digital register. Once in, Rho’ki is familiar with the register, itself. All deaths are recorded by the regional government. Each burial is logged with the person’s corresponding identification tag number, the tomb they are buried in, and any other pertinent information. People from across the region bring their dead to Handein’s temple, and family members can use the register to know where their loved one is buried, or when they will be interred, should they choose to be present for the process. Rho’ki searches the number from the stamped tin tag and slumps in further disappointment, coming up empty handed again. The body had been unidentified.

Quickly regretting it, Rho’ki clicks on the attached file, available to them with their secured login–all priests dealing with the dead and thus the register are assigned one–and immediately recognizes the unknown corpse. Most of the dead they deal with are freshly departed or decayed to little more than skeletons, but now and again there are serious and gruesome injuries, or bodies that are somewhere in the uncomfortable place between still cooling and bare bones. This corpse had been one of the latter. They click away from the photos, not needing reminding of how the flesh had been putrid, the body swollen and black with rot, whole pieces picked clean by insects and vultures and other scavengers. It had been found on the other side of the mountains, presumed to have fallen from one of the steep cliffs and left to decompose in the dry heat. More often than not, unfortunate instances like this are righted soon enough. Regional officials come and take a few samples and lots of photographs and typically the poor soul who had once inhabited the body is given back their name, updated on the register, but there is no new information for this one now than the day it had been discovered.

Feana peeks over at the screen as Rho’ki closes it and hands the communicator back. “Who were they?”

Rho’ki sighs, shaking their head. “I don’t know. They were never identified.” Left to die alone out in the desert, no name, no prayers said for them for weeks as their soul left them. A tragic fate. “What should I do with this?” Rho’ki holds up the device again. Feana has nothing to offer on the matter and Rho’ki decides some prayer is a good start in resolving it. They return to their former task, setting the tin tag and the mystery device on the altar as they light incense and a candle and ring the bell, singing the evening prayer of thanks. They fall quiet to meditate, the soft rhythm of Feana pulling thread through fabric lulling them into a peaceful trance, opening their heart to listen for answers.

They wait and drift until Feana has finished stitching and beading the lotus, his sounds changing enough as he sorts and puts away his tools to bring Rho’ki back to the real world, but on course for the curious object so far, no answers have come. Blowing out the candle, Rho’ki lets the thing sit on the altar for now, resolving to take it back to the temple in the morning.

They get ready for bed with Feana, turning out the lights and climbing up into the loft, curling up together under a pile of warm blankets. The full moon sinks down towards the forest as they fall asleep, shining bright beams through the house’s windows, casting streaks of silvery light across the floor. From the altar, the blue light at the center of the not-a-key, not-a-drive glows on, flashes twice, and then slowly, goes out.

.

[lucasburch]

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