#that said I did redo his eye color like eight times before deciding on true baby blue

[fandomartdumpblog]

“The fact of the matter is - he’s not the wunderkind anymore.”

“Non, j’velix que tu viennes, Papa, je te jure. Tu sais que mon anxiété va être un problème peu importe.”

Well, I enjoyed painting Kent “Human Disaster” Parson so much that I decided to draw Jack “College Athletics is a Personality Trait” Zimmerman too.

[Man I really need to stop spending my entire weekend painting fanart for a fandom that’s nearly a decade old]

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Birthday

Summary: could you do a hs losers x reader where the readers new to town and hates her bday bc each year her past friends and family had always forgotten or did nothing so when richie finds out her bdays coming up he tells the losers and they all plan a special surprise party and richie saves up and gets her something super special and the losers r all like wow he’s never gotten anyone anything like this b4 so she finds out that he likes her or something so it’s like the best bday she’s ever had

Richie bikes swiftly passed you, faster than he usually does, which can only mean he’s trying to surpass you. You barely refrain from flipping him the bird in public, as you too throw your weight into peddling. It’s no use, Richie is more athletic than you by a long shot, and he’s been practicing with Eddie for track. You’ll never be able to catch up with him with no viable effort.

‘You asshole,’ you yell out to him, noticing an elder woman pledging through her yard too late to stop your exclamation. She regards the both of you with malcontent, stabbing her hark too brutally in the soil of her allotment for it to be a coincidence.

‘Not my fault your short legs can’t reach the peddles.’

You growl, lifting up from your saddle to race faster, but Richie sees you do it and does nothing but laugh.

Any other time you might give him hell for it, but today, you are in no mood to indulge in Richie’s escapades.

It’s your birthday, and while for most that equalizes a fun day stacked with presents and cake, to you it stands for a day full of misery.

Your birthday is cursed. And no, that is not you being dramatic. At your ninth birthday, your cake got slammed into floor, therefor ruing the gift your parents had been working on for weeks, and which was their only present.

At age ten, you fell off your brand new bike into a ravine and had to go to the hospital to get eleven stitches. On your fourteenth birthday, you and your parents got into such a huge fight they send you up to your room and forbad you from sneaking down at any point in the day.

There are more examples to back up your claim for the terrible birthdays, but you have tried to desperately block them all out, so you won’t rehash them.

That’s why your so peeved that Richie is forcing you to the quarry.

‘If you could tell me where I’m supposed to be going to bet u could find a short cut and be there faster than you.’

‘Nice try Dora, I’m not telling you anything. It’s a surprise.’

‘Alright, I get two attempts. If I can’t guess where we’re going, I’ll do your homework for a week.’

‘And if you do guess it?’

‘Then you owe me a favor and no matter for what reason I cash it in, you don’t get to complain.’

‘Fine, bring it miss know it all.’ Richie slows down to slide next to you, the wind picking up as the two of you descend down the mountain. His smile is mischievous and cheeky, probably too confident to think you’ll be able to reckon the spot he has in mind.

If only he knew that you had limited the possibilities to two places, the exact amount of guess you were granted.

‘Hm, are we going to the arcade?’ Your first theory is. Richie doesn’t have anything on him right now, except pennies that have been rinkeling inside his pockets the entire bike ride, the only thing he needs to go to the arcade.

Richie smirks, and shakes his head. ‘Try one my dear, may I say that the odds aren’t in your favor right now?’

His impressive ego in the way he taunts you with the right answer fuels your desire to be right. ‘Are we going to the Barrens?’ You sing, smiling wide as Richie’s shrinks.

‘Eh, no?’ He says, but he sounds petulant. ‘Fuck this shit, what gave it away?’

‘A girl never reveals her secrets’, you say covertly, forgetting momentarily about the agitating day. You suspect that might have been Richie’s intention.

It’s not like the Barrens is such a stretch in the first place, the losers and you have made that place your own, but you do hypothesize that he may have planned something special for you.

Your theory turns out to be true, as you can spot a long table at the end of the dirt path you and Richie are currently riding on to get to the clubhouse. The table is stacked with a variety of candies, your favorite, drinks that are sweet enough to rot your teeth, something Richie should be more aware off - having a dad who is a dentist-, and a giant cake with eight candles on. Each one representing a loser.

You say nothing as you approach, in a sneaky way torturing Richie a bit more before revealing that you’re at the verge of tears of this nice gesture. Richie slows down his speed by dragging his shoes along the dirt, glances darting nervously towards your face.

‘I know you said no parties, but how else was I supposed to show off my rocking dance moves?’

‘Do you mean the moves you make that look like you’re dying?’ Stan chides, him and the rest of the losers rolling up behind you two. They’re all walking next to their bikes, and Bill’s hands are smudges with cake residue he somehow missed while cleaning up. They didn’t want to be here before you and ruin the ‘surprise’, but it’s clear everyone has worked hard to organize this for you.

‘Fuck you Stan the man, the color green doesn’t fit you.’

‘Happy’, Bev grounds out, leveling Richie with one look, the way only Bev can, and then address you. ‘Birthday.’ She hugs you despite you still holding your bike, and you let it clatter to the ground with a loud bang.

‘Thanks Bev.’

‘Happy Birthday’, the other losers also call out, because there’s just too many of them for each to wait their turn.

‘We hope you don’t mind we don’t have any presents, we spend basically all of it getting ingredients for the cake, which we had to redo- twice.’

They don’t offer any other explanation about why the cake had to be remade two times, but by Eddie’s scowl you can fill in the blanks.

‘No, honestly, this is already too much.’ It is too much, but their efforts are so kind and heartwarming that you have to bit back a happy squall. No one has ever bothered to organize anything for your birthday, whether it be purchasing a two dollar present or even ordering a cake, but these people that you had met less then a year ago were willing to scramble together all the money they could, just so they could turn your day special. Thank god for moving to Derry.

For the first time in years, your birthday has brought smiles and laughter, and no tears and weeping moods.

‘Nonsense my dearest young lady, this is but a blip on our radar, a speck of dust on the tv, nothing compared too-‘

‘Can we please cut the cake now? Before something else goes wrong with it?’ Eddie glowers, refuting to wait for an affirmative.

‘Don’t forget the candles,’ Ben says as he follows Eddie to the table. You’re about to join them, when a hand on your wrists stops you.

‘Hey, Y/N? You really don’t mind this right? I know you said you didn’t want anything but I know how nice it is be caught off guard with something like this.’ Richie rubs the back of his head as if that makes him see any less anxious. It’s incredible how smart someone can be while simultaneously also being so dense.

‘Richie’, you say as you smile, unable to hide it any longer. ‘It’s amazing, thank you so much. If there is any way I can repay you I’ll do that. I’m really happy with this.’

‘That’s good, not that I was worried about it, who isn’t a fan of everything I do?’

Rolling your eyes only spurs Richie on, but it’s become an automatic response now, you can’t help but do it.

‘Oh, I almost forgot. I did get you another gift. Two actually, if you count my huge dong as one.’

‘Gross Richie, why do you always have to add something sexual to everything?’

‘It’s my game babe, love it or leave it. Anyway, here is the gift if you want it. If you don’t that’s fine too.’

‘Don’t get all shy on me now Rich’, you tease as your bump your arm into his while grabbing the package. ‘I’ve just gotten used to your antics.’

The package isn’t heavy, but it also isn’t light. It’s wrapped in enough layer that you can’t feel what’s inside of it just by holding it, but that was probably Richie’s intention. That or he is simply horrible at wrapping up.

While you carefully peel off each layer, you begin to speculate on what it could be. It could be a gag gift, but Richie looked sincere, and his eyes behind his glasses are magnified in true anticipation, a gag gift wouldn’t illicit that response.

As soon as the final layer is detached, you gasp, armored by the actual gift. It’s a blue bracelet, covered in butterfly pattering. You once mentioned having a similar one as a kid that you loved but lost one day while playing outside and had been sad about for weeks.

You can’t believe Richie had kept it in his mind, and had gone out to look for it.

‘Richie… I don’t even know what to say right now.’ You exclaim, squeezing the bracelet in your hand tightly, a blush covering your face. Richie’s mimics yours. ‘Thank you’, you say while reaching out to him and kissing him on the cheek. Richie face burns a brighter red.

‘Yeah… glad to be of service.’ His mind is ball parks away, and he is left dazed.

‘Come on Y/N, it’s time for you to blow out the candles.’

You go easily, letting your hand linger around Richie’s, deciding mentally that you’ll do it tonight before you go home. Your birthday has already been better than anything you could have imagined, and maybe it has one more miracle left to give. If Richie says yes to your question about going on a date, then this will truly have been the best birthday you have every had. By the love struck expression Richie is walking around with, you have an inkling as to what his response might be.

You blow out your candles, but you don’t need to make a wish. You already have everything you could possibly want.

----

‘Off course that asshole buys her a gift, but never returns the money I loaned him so long ago. I’m not a fucking bank.’

‘I think it’s cute.’

‘No, Eddie is right, I’m also waiting on my refund.’

‘It’s adorable he bought her something, he really can’t hide his crush anymore.’

[honey-dewey]

Soulmate Imagines

Another short not drabbles but not full stories either! I was completely inspired by a post made by @absurdthirst and really really wanted to write the boys in these scenarios! So I completely ignored both of my active WIPS and wrote this instead. Oops? Enjoy these long and indulgent soulmate imagines!

Total Word Count: 5,179

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin:

Soul Tattoo AU

“Shit!”

You hummed, turning your head over, vision fuzzy. Din was rushing around the Crest, and you could see red painting his beskar. Was he hurt? You tried to stand, and then it hit you. Oh. You were hurt.

“Din,” you rasped out, blinking as his fuzzy image came into more clarity.

Din looked at you, helmet trained on your face. “Cyar’ika,” he said, taking your cold hands. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a herd of Banthas,” you said, shifting and wincing. “What happened?”

“Bomb,” Din explained, gesturing to your torso, where you were wearing a thin robe and nothing else. “Hit your side. Patched you up best I could.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “Did it scar?”

Din hesitated. “Some of it will. Nothing on your back though.”

Relief flooded you. You had no idea why you were so worried about your soul tattoo, but you were. The beautiful star map to Aq Ventina spanned your entire back, from shoulders to tailbone, the sides creeping over your waist. You’d done research about Aq Ventina years ago, when the curiosity had finally peaked. You’d read up on the history and knew that it no longer existed, decimated by a droid attack decades before you’d even known it existed.

“It’s a beautiful tattoo,” Din said softly, out of nowhere.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at his helmet. “It’s my soul tattoo.”

Din nodded. “I figured.”

And that was the last it was spoken of for almost five months. The next time it was relevant was during a two day long bounty hunt, when Din left to shower and you sat in your shared inn room, cooing at Grogu.

The shower water turned off, and you heard Din drying off. Then he called your name.

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Worried, you stood and headed to the bathroom. “Din?”

“Come here.” His voice bordered on urgent, and you immediately shoved the door open.

You were met with Din, completely shirtless yet still wearing the helmet, in the bathroom, no urgent problem in sight. However, instead of being mad, you were focused entirely on the tattoo that spread across Din’s back.

It was identical to yours.

“Din?” Your voice was tiny, so apprehensive.

He sighed, looking at you and taking your hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” he said. “But Aq Ventina was my home, so you have to understand that it was odd and a bit painful seeing the star map on your back.”

You nodded. “We’re soulmates,” you breathed. “I didn’t even know you had a soul tattoo.”

Din chuckled. “It’s not like I expose much skin,” he reasoned.

That drew a laugh out of you. “Yeah. But still.” Your fingers danced over the exposed edge of the star map that crept over Din’s side. “Soulmates.”

Din nodded, resting his forehead against your head. “Soulmates,” he agreed. “But only if you’ll have me.”

You smiled. “As if I could ever say no.”

Marcus Moreno:

Color Soulmate AU

To say you were stressed was an understatement. A huge project for Heroics was cradled in your arms, all sorts of papers and binders and information you were carrying to the filing room to be sorted. The stack was tall, which was probably why you didn’t see your boss until you ran directly into him.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you fell on your back, folders going everywhere. Marcus Moreno, your boss, was toppled next to you, also swearing.

“I am so sorry!” You said hurriedly, scrambling to gather the papers, eyes focused on your task. “I really should’ve looked where I was going and-“ you looked up, shock killing your words.

Marcus’s eyes were brown. Very very brown.

You gasped, your task entirely forgotten. “Oh.”

Marcus was staring at you with just as much shock as you were staring at him with. “Oh,” he echoed.

Your fragile moment was shattered by the click of heels and another employee coming over to check on you, her voice frantic.

“We’re fine,” Marcus reassured, standing and dusting himself off. Without saying anything else, he walked quickly away.

Once all the files were secure, you headed back to your desk and pulled out a small box of crayons. You’d never seen color, not ever, so this would be interesting. At least it would be if your hands would stop shaking.

One of your coworkers, Matt, came up to you as you used a teal crayon, marveling at the color. “Oh? You met your soulmate?”

You nodded, looking up and noticing the vibrant purple color to Matt’s tie. “Yeah. Bumped into him in the hall. Literally.”

Matt grinned. “Who is it?”

You cringed, the embarrassment setting in. “Mr. Moreno.”

“Mr. Moreno?” Matt practically yelled. “He’s our boss!”

“Yeah, I know!” You retaliated, checking your clock and scrambling up. “Fuck! I gotta go, that huge meeting is in ten.”

Matt smiled. “Good luck!”

Despite Matt’s wishes, you were fairly certain the presentation was a disaster. Marcus was missing, which was odd, and you ended up tripping over your words and getting a huge migraine halfway through the presentation. After sheepishly explaining the scenario, you were told to go home and adjust, you could redo the presentation tomorrow.

Of course, tomorrow was just as bad. Marcus was actually present, wearing a yellow tie that kept distracting you and forcing your words out in a jumble.

After the train wreck of a presentation, you decided this was a situation that called for a large hot chocolate. Getting one and settling in the cafeteria, you sighed, swirling your drink with a spoon. You were a certifiable mess.

The creaking of the chair brought your attention back to planet earth, and you looked up, nearly choking on your spit. “Mr. Moreno!”

“Please, I think we should be on a first name basis,” Marcus said. “So.”

“So.”

Marcus tapped the table. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I just, well, I haven’t seen color since my- Since Clara died.”

You nodded. “I understand if you don’t want this,” you murmured, looking back down at your drink. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Marcus asked. “No! I’m, well, a little excited.”

That shocked you. “Excited?”

“Yeah.” Marcus nodded. “Excited. Missy’s over the moon, of course.”

You grinned. “Thanks. Sorry I’m so nervous. I’ve never seen any of this before.”

“Really?” Marcus said. “Oh I definitely know what we’re doing first.”

“What?”

Marcus smiled, taking your hands. “You’re going to love sunsets.”

Max Phillips:

Black Mark Soulmate AU 

“Oh no.”

You stared at your boss with nothing short of mild fear. Max fucking Phillips. There was no goddamn way. You’d known him very briefly in college, but this, this was unexpected.

He smiled at the employees, shaking hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As if his right palm wasn’t the color of fresh stained ink.

He walked up to you, holding out his ink stained hand. You were hesitant to accept. After all, your right hand was equally black. But handshakes were common, very common among soulmate meets. Max Phillips was not your soulmate.

You were able to tell yourself that until the moment your hands touched, the blackness turning into a beautiful swirl of bright colors.

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “Your hand.”

“Yours too,” you said, letting go of Max’s hand and letting him examine the watercolor of reds and purples that spread across his skin.

Max took a nervous breath. “No. Something must be wrong.”

You were shocked. “Max. Is it really that bad?”

“You don’t understand!” Max snapped, scaring you a tiny bit. He leaned closer, so you could see the devilish gleam in his eyes. “I have no soul.”

Your blood chilled as you saw the overly sharp teeth and the hint of red behind the deep brown in Max’s eyes. “Max.”

But he was gone, disappeared from right in front of you. Blinking a few times, you turned to your computer, determined to uncover the truth about your mysterious boss and the still tingling rainbow of colors on your palm.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Countdown Soulmate AU

The countdown timer was surprisingly unnerving.

Actually, was it really that surprising? It was counting down to the most important day pretty much ever. Yours had always had years and years, much longer than any of your friends, but you didn’t mind. That was just more time to prepare.

Of course, when you woke up one day to find that the timer that had read seven months suddenly read twelve hours, you freaked the hell out. Taking deep breaths, you calmed yourself and got dressed, texting your best friend and asking him when he wanted you over for movie night. He responded with eight, and promised that you’d love his friends.

With one last deep breath and a glance around your apartment, you left for the day.

And ended up with a popped tire on the side of the road ten minutes before eight.

Screaming your frustration into the night darkened woods and frightening some poor birds, you sighed and called roadside service. An hour, at least, before they could get to you.

Your next call went to Benny, who you apologized to and told him you’d make it up to him.

Your final call was to no one. You simply sat back in your car and waited for roadside service while you tapped away at some mind numbing game you’d downloaded on a whim.

Headlights were visible in the distance not even ten minutes later, which shocked you and then worried you. Who the hell was out on this road this late at night? Were you about to be murdered? Who would find your body? Would Benny still hold true to his promise and wear a lime green tutu to your funeral?

The car stopped when it saw you, and your anxiety skyrocketed. You quickly texted Benny one last time and locked your car.

“Hey!” A few sharp knocks and a face in the window. “Do you need help?”

You were trembling, trying to keep a brave face. “Tire popped.”

“Oh.” The voice sounded genuinely worried. “That sucks. Where are you headed?”

“A friend’s house.”

“Did you call roadside?”

“An hour.”

“Oof. Hungry?”

“What?” You looked over, seeing the dimly lit silhouette of a man holding up what was probably a granola bar. “Yeah actually, I am.”

The man’s cheeks lit up, and you assumed he was smiling. “Well you’re gonna have to open up if you want it.”

You hesitantly cracked the door and watched the man step back. The car lights illuminated him fully, revealing a very attractive man holding a slightly squished granola bar.

Turning in the seat so that your legs were hanging out the car, you took the offered food, smiling as you ate. “Lord this is good! Thank you!”

The man shrugged. “No problem. I’m Frankie.”

You mumbled your name around the granola bar, and then froze as your wrist burned warm and then cold, a clattering alerting you to the fact that your timer had fallen off.

And from the look on Frankie’s face, so had his.

He looked back up at you, seemingly nervous. “So can I get in the car now? I promise I’m not a creep.”

You nodded, still slightly shocked as Frankie got into your car, sitting in the passenger seat. It was silent for a minute before you spoke. “So. Soulmates.”

“Soulmates,” Frankie agreed. “I’m glad I shared that granola bar with you.”

Your phone pinged, and you swore softly, answering Benny’s text and then rereading it. “Do you, by any chance, know a Benny Miller?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said. “I was headed to his place when I saw you.”

“Me too.” You showed him the text, which read ‘Dude! Be careful! My buddy Frankie’s coming along, so if you get attacked, he’ll totally protect you. Also, totally not wearing that tutu because you’re not dying first.’

Frankie smiled. “You’re in on the tutu thing too?”

You laughed. “Oh god! Not you too!”

“Yeah!” Frankie said, laughing along with you. “Benny totally already has it, y’know.”

You sighed. “Damn. That’s wild.”

The hour until roadside service arrived was filled with stories and bonding. After your car was towed, you got in Frankie’s truck and headed to Benny’s, arm in arm.

“Hey, Frankie found the murder victim!” Benny said happily, opening the door. “Oh shit, dudes I was starting to get worried about you.”

Frankie shook his head. “Actually, it couldn’t have played out better.”

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:

First Words Soulmate AU

You sighed, taking a breath. Today you were meeting your baby brother’s coworkers at a work party. It wasn’t supposed to be so damn nerve wracking, but your stomach was a ball of anxiety. “Danny, are you sure about this?”

Danny, or as he was better known at work, Tequila, nodded. “Hell yeah, it’ll be fun.”

You tugged your bracelet, trying to cover the words winding across your wrist.

What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?

The Statesman Fourth of July party was apparently a big deal. There were sure as hell a lot of people. You stuck by Danny’s side, smiling at his coworkers and eventually sitting with a woman named Ginger. She was nice, and when Danny wandered off to flirt with someone, she stayed with you, giving you names to attach to faces.

“Oh, and that’s Jack,” she said, pointing to someone talking to Champ. “One of the longest lasting agents we have.”

You eyed Jack. He was handsome, especially with that cowboy hat. He must’ve noticed your staring, because he wandered over and sat down at the table.

“So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You took a breath, gripping the hem of your shorts and trying to think without looking awkward. A thousand responses rushed through your head, and you finally picked one you hoped wasn’t weird. “I dunno cowboy, why do you ask?”

Jack recoiled as if he’d just had ice water poured on his head. Ginger stood, shocked as Jack ran away. “What just happened?”

You were nearly speechless, tears starting to well up. “I think my soulmate just ran away from me.”

After a good long crying session in which you sobbed openly into Danny’s jacket and he vowed to absolutely murder Jack, Ginger gently explained Jack’s past with his previous soulmate. Which sent you into another round of crying and made Danny even more pissed.

He ended up taking you home early to watch shitty movies and eat tons of ice cream, comforting you as you numbly ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s on the couch.

When he left for work the next day, you made him swear not to hurt Jack.

You got a call from Ginger two hours later telling you to come pick Danny up.

Marching into Statesman again, you found Ginger at the entrance, lips pressed tight. She led you to the infirmary, where Danny was proudly sporting a black eye and a split lip. Jack was laying in a bed next to him, pressing ice to his cheek.

“Control your fucking brother!” He yelled as soon as he saw you, sitting up in the bed. “He nearly killed me!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” You snapped back. “You best be glad I’m not petty, or else I’d have let him kill you.”

Jack was, wisely, silent as you helped Danny up and out of the building. Danny was also silent, but was definitely smug about it.

“Y’know I totally won that fight,” he said as you exited the building.

You sighed. “Sure. Whatever. Let’s go home.”

The next day, you got a call from an unknown number.

“This is Jack,” the voice on the other end said when you picked up. “I’m calling to apologize for beating your brother up.”

“Apparently he won the fight.”

Jack snorted. “Sure he did. Look, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

A pause. “Cool. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you.”

He hung up first, leaving you with a dead hole in your chest. When you would see that cowboy again, you didn’t know, but when you did, oh boy was he in for it from you.

Ezra:

Pain Sharing Soulmate AU

You were screaming.

Well, screaming may not have been the word to describe the feeling. No, the agony in your right arm was numbing pain, the kind of pain that brought out animalistic noises and made spots dance across your vision. You writhed on the floor, clutching your upper arm and begging someone, anyone, to make the pain stop. A few nurses you worked with tried to dose you with painkillers, but nothing could touch soulmate pain.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain began to fade. You’d had some aches in that arm after a stab that was really painful and you’d assumed some kind of injury that your soulmate had sustained was being treated. But that, that harsh, indescribable pain that had you sweating and panting on the floor with your head spinning, you had no explanation for that.

After that, the nurses set you up in the break room with fluids and a light snack. Your right arm still hurt like hell, but it was manageable now. As time passed, the pain passed, until it was no more than a dull ache once more, with some odd numbness that lingered in your fingertips.

Of course, on the day you decided to try working for a few hours, your soulmate went and got himself fatally injured again.

Gasping and falling sideways, you gritted your teeth through a scream as your gut lit on fire, as if someone had driven a knife into your belly. It was the second time in three days that your soulmate had put you through this. What the hell was he doing?

Yet again, you were put in a room to wait out the pain, probably scaring patients with your sobs and pleads for any merciful god to put you out of your misery. This pain refused to fade, and you completely missed the wail of emergency sirens as a new patient in critical condition arrived.

Eventually, finally, the pain forced you unconscious.

You woke a few days later, breathing deeply as you realized you weren���t in any pain. The faint voice of a doctor met your ears as you slowly regained your senses.

“We’re all shocked they survived. With pain like that, I surely wouldn’t have been as strong as they were. First it was their arm, and then their stomach. We still don’t really know what happened.”

The doctor turned to you, and smiled when he noticed your open eyes. “Finally, you’re awake. We have someone who wants to talk to you.”

You grumbled, trying to string together the past few days. “What?”

The doctor gestured to a man sitting in the other bed in the room. “This is Ezra, our critical patient from a few days ago.”

“I was too busy being stabbed in the stomach to notice any crit patients,” you pointed out.

“Yes, well,” the doctor said with a smile. “He may have some answers for you.”

You sat up, rubbing your aching head and facing the other man in the room.

He looked like hell, face sunken and shining with post injury sweat. You reasoned that you probably didn’t look much better. But the interesting thing about the man was his bandage wrapped right arm. Or more accurately, his lack of an arm that was wrapped in bandages.

“Hi Ezra,” you said slowly, rubbing your temples. “Is this my headache or yours?”

Ezra chuckled. “I think it’s yours,” he said. “I can’t feel any of my own pain right now.”

You sighed. “Doc, can I get some painkillers? I got a headache.”

The doctor nodded, grabbing a few pills, but you shook your head. “The good shit, please.”

Smiling, the doctor picked up a syringe and lifted your left arm, considering your right still felt a bit numb. “Countdown?”

“Nah.”

The doctor gave you the painkillers, and you watched Ezra wince at the pinch from the needle as it hit your skin. Laying back as the painkillers took effect, you sighed, looking at Ezra. “I’d love to stay and chat,” you murmured sleepily. “But this stuff works fast.”  

Ezra smiled. “Don’t worry songbird,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

Javier Peña:

Soulmate’s Name on Wrist AU

“Get up! New client!”

You groaned, adjusting your top and trotting into the hall, standing with the group of women waving and giggling at the new client. He looked up at your group, a light grin on his face.

“He’s cute,” you said to the woman next to you.

She nodded. “He’s a regular at places like this,” she said. “Says his name’s Javier.”

You froze, the small name tattooed on the inside of your wrist practically burning. “Javier? He got a last name?”

“Not that he’ll share.”

In the end, you were Javier’s lucky victim, mostly because when he asked your name and you responded, his watch-covered wrist twitched. So he was your soulmate. Or at least you were his. He showed you bliss, paid you handsomely, and left without a word but with a spark.

Two weeks later, you ran into him again. You’d been in touch with a man at the US embassy about cartel stuff, mostly that the cartels had been reaching out to people like you and you wanted to stay safe, and the man had invited you to come over and give a statement. You were hesitant, of course, but the man looked kind enough, and the other employees knew him well enough that you felt secure.

“This is my partner, agent Peña,” the man said as he gestured you into a room. “But,” he said slowly, eyeing the bare name on your wrist. “I think you knew that already.”

“I did.”

Javier took a breath. “Can we get this done with?” He said, trying to sound annoyed but only succeeding at stressed.

Your statement was quiet and precise, and before you knew it, Javier was walking you out.

“Javier,” you tried.

“Don’t,” Javier growled. “Just go, forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t!” You all but yelled, grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t walk off. “I’ve been wearing your name since the day I was born, you think I can just forget all of that?”

Javier was quiet. “You think I want a soulmate?” He asked quietly, and you froze.

“I’m sorry?”

“No!” Javier growled, shaking his head. “I mean, fuck. This job, if they find out you’re connected to me, they’ll kill you.”

Your blood went cold, but you kept your composure. “Hate to break it to you,” you said, shoving Javier’s sleeve up and exposing your name written on his wrist. “But we’re already connected.”

From that day forward, you were under protection. You quit your job, moved reluctantly to an apartment that was secured by the embassy, and barely left the brand new apartment for anything. The war on drugs dragged on, and every so often, Javier would shuffle across the hall and find solace in your arms, always leaving before dawn.

One night, after a particularly hard day, you and him were tangled together on the couch, name wrists pressed against each other. Your skin burned and prickled at the intimate contact, but Javier was so lost he didn’t even notice.

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

You smoothed through his hair. “Will we ever be safe enough to be soulmates?”

Javier was quiet. “I don’t know.”

You sighed. “One day, I hope we will.”

Another long silence, and then Javier spoke up. “Me too.”

That morning, you woke up in his arms instead of in an empty bed, wondering exactly how life would shake out now that you had fallen in love with your soulmate.

Maxwell Lord:

Dream Sharing Soulmate AU

“I’m going to cry,” you groaned, pressing your head to the table. “He hasn’t slept in days.”

Your coworker, Ellie, sighed. “Hon, you just gotta keep trying. Go home, rest up. Get some sleep.”

You stood. Ellie was right. Just because Max wasn’t sleeping didn’t mean you had to punish yourself. You’d been going rounds with him for months, and it was really starting to weigh on your own sleep schedule. All you needed, all you wanted was to go home and sleep for days to correct your broken internal clock.

Your apartment was cold when you got back, and you quickly fiddled with the thermostat before stripping and falling into bed, cuddling up with the blankets and falling asleep almost immediately.

Just as with every night your soulmate didn’t sleep, you didn’t have a soul dream. Instead, you had your regular dreams, all nonsensical and silly. You woke up at one point to eat before falling back into bed, still exhausted.

This time, your dreams were different. You were in a soul dream, which meant he was finally sleeping.

“Max!”

No response as you ran around the elementary school, but you quickly skidded to a stop, seeing bullies mock a young boy for his lunch. That was your Max as a child, and you immediately rushed to his aide.

“Max.”

The real Max, the one who was asleep right now, looked at you with worry, finally tearing his eyes off the bullies. “You.”

“Me,” you said softly. “You need more sleep.”

Max shrugged. You knew who he was, after all, who didn’t? But the suave businessman you knew on TV was very different from the scared man you knew from your dreams. “Wasn’t tired.”

“For three days?” You asked. “Max, that isn’t healthy.” You felt a tug on your gut, a signal that your dream was starting. “C’mon.” You held a hand out, offering Max a reprieve. “My dreams are kind.”

He accepted, taking your hand as you led him to your dreams. In your subconscious reality, you were a child again, laughing and ice skating with your parents.

“Can you skate?” You asked Max, still holding his hand. He shook his head.

You smiled. “That’s okay, you can learn.” You snapped your fingers and skates appeared on both of your feet. “C’mon!”

Turned out, Max was an abysmal skater, but he was laughing by the time your bodies were ready to wake up.

“I don’t wanna go,” he admitted, and you grinned, squeezing his hands tight. “Can we do this again?”

“Tomorrow night,” you promised. “I’ll find you.”

For almost a month, you rescued Max from embarrassing or painful dreams, taking him to your more comforting dreams. Occasionally, he’d do the opposite for you when you had a nightmare, but you mostly spent the nights in your dreams, watching fireworks or going swimming. His darkest secrets were no longer secret, and he trusted you with everything.

“Y’know,” he said softly as you and him watched a Fourth of July fireworks show from when you were seven. “We could do this in real life.”

“We could,” you murmured, leaning closer to him. “The fourth is, what, next week? Doesn’t DC do a beautiful fireworks show?”

Max nodded. “We could make our first shared memory.”

You smiled. “We could,” you agreed. “We will. I’m not too far from DC, I can totally drive down on the fourth. I’ll pick you up from work, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max murmured softly. “Dreamlike even.”

You laughed. “Dork.”

“Hey, you fell in love with me!”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Max’s firework illuminated face. “I did.”

Pero Tovar:

Color Soulmate AU 

You pressed the leaf between your fingers, trying to gauge how sick the plant was. The grey color didn’t worry you, because you were fairly certain it was still green. “It just needs more water,” you determined, standing and brushing yourself off. “Try watering these plants daily instead of every other.”

The woman you were helping nodded, and you smiled at her as you walked back to your own garden. Rolling your sleeves up, you got to work tending to your plants.

It was hours before you looked up, alerted by the sound of hooves on the ground. A mysterious man was sitting atop a horse, his hair long and greasy, his face creased from what you imagined was a grueling ride. He jumped off the horse and stumbled in your direction, leaning against the fence. You stood, abandoning the plants in favor of helping the man.

He shook off your help, but stopped the second his hand connected with yours and both your worlds exploded with color.

You stumbled back, the sudden colors shocking you as the man reeled from you, his sun battered face full of shock.

“I’m sorry!” You said quickly, steadying yourself and reaching out to the man. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the man said firmly, right before he passed out.

Two days later, the man woke up, his partner by his side. The blond man had showed up yesterday, introducing himself as William and the mystery man as Pero Tovar.

Pero looked around, nervous as he saw you in the corner, slowly and methodically mending his shirt. “William, quien es este.”

William shrugged. “I don’t know. Not a nurse, from what I can tell.”

“Diles que se vayan.”

“I’m not leaving,” you said, without looking up. “And please continue to talk about me in a language you assume I don’t understand.”

Pero blinked a few times. “You’re smart.”

“I pick up on languages fast,” you said, setting down the mended shirt. “Who are you, Pero Tovar?”

William looked between you two before finally speaking up. “Should I leave?”

“Please,” you said.

William left, and you crossed your legs. “So, who are you?”

“No one you should know,” Pero growled, getting up and grabbing his shirt. “Just forget you ever met me. You have your colors, go live a happy life.”

You frantically tried to keep him in the village, but he left with William as soon as the local medic deemed him okay.

For the next week, you slowly learned colors, finding your favorites with much trial and error. Some of the village women who had lost their soulmates in battles consoled you as you grieved for a man you barely knew, a man who had given you a universe of change and then left as if it had been nothing.

Almost exactly one week later, the sound of hooves rang out again, and this time, you didn’t look up from your gardening. At least, not until the visitor entered your garden, standing in front of your vegetables.

You looked up at him, taking in a much neater and more groomed Pero. He seemed nervous, shuffling from foot to foot.

Standing, you raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Pero nodded, handing you his dagger.

You took the weapon. “What’s this?”

“In my culture,” Pero began. “When a man is ready to settle with his soulmate, he must give them his most prized weapon as a way of showing he is ready to stop fighting and raise a family.”

The dagger gleamed in the sunlight, and you smiled. “Well then, I guess I should make dinner for two, shouldn’t I?”

Pero grinned. “Yes, that would be nice. I’m hungry.”

[dvoz-alternate]

Idol Room Scenario

Request: can you do a mingi x reader when the reader is their senior in a gg (kinda like bp, twice, etc) and both groups go to idol room for an episode 🥺

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AN: I have actually really wanted to make something like this for the longest time and now I’m able to make it for you! I am pulling some of my ideas from a post I made earlier this year! Also the Queen of Hearts is my favorite card in the deck and the group is based on a straight royal flush sooo…. For the sake of the fic you are born just a few months before Seonghwa, so Jan-Mar.

Summary: Part of an all girl group you are the leader of Royals. Both groups have heard of each other and seen each others works/MVs/live streams/etc., but have never met in person and happen to be fans of each other. For the most part all they know are names and faces. Royals and Ateez are doing a collab on an album and their companies thought it would be a good way to introduce each group through the idol room.

Word count: ~1500

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The MC looked over towards ATEEZ’s leader, “So, it’s true that you are going to be working with the Royals on your upcoming album?” “It is true and we are really looking forward to doing this collab. There is going to be a lot of new concepts between our groups,” Hongjoong said leaning forward slightly on his stool. The other MC spoke up, “And neither group has met in person right?” The group of boys all shook their heads. “Perfect than this would be a perfect time for us to introduce the girl group Royals to the set!” the MC gestured off stage to where you and four other girls entered from. Mingi’s jaw dropped slightly seeing one of his favorite groups join them for the episode. Yunho noticed the look on Mingi’s face and casually raised a hand to close his mouth. His eyes instantly locking on your form.

Smiling you walked onto the set with two of your members in front of you and two behind you  lining up next to the MC who introduced your group. Glancing at the MCs and then to the boy group ATEEZ you sucked in a quick breath before quickly recovering your smile. Your members have teased you before about your attraction for the giant rapper, but now you were finally seeing him in person. Bowing you introduce your group flashing a stunning smile. You were partially dreading your personal introduction but you pushed on. “Hi I’m (Y/N), the leader of the Royals and the queen of hearts, and more specifically the queen of your heart,” you gave a wink and a finger heart to the camera and to the boys before immediately hiding behind your taller group members who chuckled at your embarrassment. Mingi and the rest of the group couldn’t help but remember their first person intros when they first started. 

Sitting in the stools the MCs turned to view both groups, “Alright, so what do you know about each other.” You shared a look with Hongjoong and he nodded at you to take the lead, “In all honesty the most we know of each other is each other’s name.” “And position within each group,” Hongjoong added. Feeling eyes on you, you slowly moved your attention from the MC to where you thought you were being stared at. Seeing the flame colored hair you tilted your head slightly giving him a warm smile. Facing flushing from being caught Mingi ducked his head running a hand through his hair. “Well how about this,” an MC said looking between the two groups, “let’s have each of you guess who is older before revealing how old you actually are.” The other MC spoke up, “Seonghwa why don’t you try guessing?” Standing the dark haired male in leather went to stand in front of your group. Taking a good look at all of your features he came to a conclusion, “I think based off the music videos we have watched that you’re all at least born in 1999.” Your group all glanced at you giggling. “Was I wrong?” Seonghwa asked turning to look at his guys for help even though they were just as clueless. “I mean you were mostly right,” you offered teasingly. “Wait what?!” several of the boys jumped from their seats staring at you. “Wait a minute… who’s the oldest?” you asked as you clasp your hands together pointer fingers scanning over the group. “I am. I was born on April 3, 1998,” Seonghwa said raising an eyebrow at you. Eyes widening your jaw dropped. “What, no! This should be illegal!” you and your group stared gobsmacked at the eight boys in front of you. “I’m just a few months older than you,” you gestured to Seonghwa. “What?! You look so young!” Mingi’s eyes were comically wide. Everyone started laughing at how much chaos had broken out over this topic. 

“Alright, alright. Between your groups, who holds the sex appeal,” the MC decided to move onto the next topic. Collabately from both ATEEZ and Royals everyone pointed at Wooyoung before they turned on you. “Wait no! No!” you quickly waved your hands around, “I’m definitely not the sexy one in the group. I’m just cute.” A choking noise came from Mingi and Jongho thumped him on the back. “Then what do you call this?” the MC pulled up your groups most recent music video which you covered your eyes with your hands. “I don’t know I just do that…” you called your words trailing off slightly embarrassed. Your crush however was watching the screen intently with cheeks slightly pink. “How and why are you the only one dancing in those heels?” Mingi asked prying his eyes away from the screen where you were dancing in ridiculously high heels. “Ah, I’m the shortest in the group so it was to help make me appear taller, and it fit the theme of the music video,” you shrug. “So you had to learn that entire choreography in those death traps?” Yunho asked. Nodding you explained, “Yeah it was definitely an experience. I learned the choreography beforehand and then had to relearn it in the heels.” “I can’t believe you actually did the splits like that though,” Wooyoung said as they watched the part where you go into the splits as you all point up and out in the opposite direction. “We have watched the reaction video of you on youtube when you saw you had to wear those heels, and it’s probably still one of the cutest things ever,” Mingi didn’t mean to call you cute out loud, but when he thought back to you staring wide eyed and mouth open like a fish he couldn’t help it. Cheeks burning from Mingi calling you cute you covered them with your hands. 

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Each group performed their preferred arrangement in front of each other along with random dance play. You couldn’t help but jump in and dance Mingi’s part when Wave was played. Both groups intermingling knowing the dance to each groups songs. 

“So we have one last thing to do before we end the show,” an MC said standing between each group. “Finally we will do a lyric battle between the groups, and to make it a little more even would one of you volunteer to join the Royals for the final game?” Sheepishly Mingi stepped forward rubbing the back of his neck. Your heart started racing as you held a hand out for him to join you. The rest of ATEEZ already knew about the giant’s crush on you so they decided to give him a hard time and something about “abandoning the group”. “I think we need to redo our opening,” Yeosang teased as they all recounted back to their time with Oneus. After they finished you wrapped your arms around Mingi, “You know if that’s the case then I might just have to keep him.” Mingi’s face darkened at your words with his blush now touching his ears while everyone “oohed”.

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Stepping off the stage together you and your group faced the boy group. “It was really nice being able to meet you all officially,” you told them your group bowing. “We look forward to spending the next few weeks working with you as well,” Hongjoong lead his group in reciprocating the courtesy. You and Mingi both seemed to have the same idea lingering behind the others as they started leaving. Brushing your hair behind your ear you looked up at the smiling giant. “I still can’t believe we actually get to work together,” Mingi said following behind you as you went to pick up your bag. “Likewise. You’re an extremely talented group of guys, and am a big fan of a certain rapper,” you turned to look at him as you adjusted you bag over your shoulder. The red haired rapper’s smile seemed to grow bigger for a brief moment before it disappeared, “Wait… do you mean Hongjoong?” Giving his shoulder a slight shove you laughed, “No, no. This rapper has red hair and a ridiculously deep voice,” you giggled as you watched his smile reappear and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh!” you started digging through your purse before tearing out a small piece of paper from a notebook and a pen. Mingi watched as you scribbled on the paper before you handed it to him. “Hopefully we can talk more than just during the project time period,” you told him tilting your head slightly. Mingi stared in shock at the small piece of paper. You had scrawled your number on it with a cute heart at the end. He also didn’t noticed that you had started to walk away before you called out to him. “Mingi! Come on! Our groups are going out for lunch!” Snapping out of his trance he pocketed the paper before running after you.

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masterlist

[laxus-and-ceruli]

Sunflowers and Camellias (Part One)

Warnings- Swearing and fluff

Camellias

Some of you may have never seen a camellia except in pictures if you live in colder climates. Camellias grow as shrubs in warmer regions and they are difficult to find as a cut flower because they tend to be fragile. These romantic flowers are stunning and look similar to roses, and like roses have different meanings depending on the color. Red camellias say “you’re a flame in my heart”, pink symbolizes longing, and white say “you’re adorable”. If you are fortunate enough to live in an area where camellias are in bloom, I recommend you take the time to pick some for your darling. They are also available as bonsai trees.

Sunflowers represent longevity, adoration, and pure love. These flowers remind me of cheerful faces, and when growing they follow the sun, moving throughout the day. They are easily obtained from florists, or you can easily grow your own from seed-which could be a romantic activity for you and your sweetheart. Additionally, the seeds of the flower attract wildlife.

~~~~~~

“Laxus!” He stiffened when I jumped on his back.

“What do you want?” He huffed, ignoring my grip on him.

“I’m hyper.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He chuckled.

“Let’s go on a job,” I buried my nose into his neck, “Just the two of us.”

“Oh yeah?” He thought for a moment, “Alright.”

“Really?!” I jumped off eyes sparkling.

“Sure, sounds fun.”

“Awesome! I’ll go pick one out!” I kissed his cheek and went over to the request board while he talked to Gramps.

I pulled a job off to look at the details.

“U-um…” I looked over to see the blue-haired dragon slayer.

“Hey, Wendy,” I ruffled her hair, “You looking to go on a job?”

“No, I was actually looking to talk to you.” She said, looking at the ground.

“Oh yeah? What’s up?”

“Well… I heard some of the others talking and…” She clenched her little fists, before looking at me with big eyes, “Is it true you and Laxus can do unison raids?!”

“Huh? Oh-” I smiled at her, “Yeah! We’ve done that a few times.”

“Really? That’s so cool!”

“You interested in Unison Raids?” 

“I just think they’re really awesome!” 

“Heh-”

“You pick one out yet?” Laxus asked from behind me.“No, sorry. I got distracted.” I scratched the back of my neck.

“You’re such a pain.” He turned to the board and started looking for a job. “This one looks good. Decent reward too.”

He grabbed the paper and started for the door.

“Sorry Wendy, we can finish talking when I get back.” I gave her an apologetic smile before running after Laxus.

“Gimme that,” I snatched the paper from him and looked it over, ‘Yeah, this works.”

We stopped by my place so I could pack a quick bag. 

“You know we’re gonna need to take a train, right?” I side-eyed him with a smirk.

He groaned.

“You’re the one who picked the job, not me.” I hefted my bag onto my shoulder, grabbed some cash from my room, and pulled him to the door. “Come on, I’ll get us our own compartment.”

~~~~ I closed the door to our compartment and saw Laxus already pale.

“Aw baby,” I cooed, sitting next to him, “We’re not even moving ye-”

Just as I said it the train lurched and began chugging forward. Laxus’ eyes widened and he started to sweat.

“How long is-... this going to b-be?” He moaned.

“Three-and-a-half hours.” I pulled his head onto my lap and ran my fingers through his hair. “Just try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Please tell me we’re almost there,” Laxus grumbled as he woke up.

“No,” I frowned and stroked his face. “Sorry, maybe we shouldn’t have done this…”

“Hey, you know this isn’t you- urh- fault,” He gagged, “And when we get there I’ll be fine.”

I nodded and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. 

“Laxus,” I shook him slightly, “Hey, we’re here!”

“Finally,” He groaned as he sat up.

We’d left the guildhall at an odd hour, and it was almost sunset already, so we decided to stay here tonight, and head out in the morning.

We found a decent inn not far from the palace.

“Welcome to the Flower Mirage Inn! Is this your first time in Crocus?” The old Lady at the desk said, not looking up from the check-in book in front of her.

“Not exactly,” I spoke up. 

She looked at us and smiled, “Oh what a lovely couple! Honeymooners?”

Laxus’ face lost all color before turning bright red, “N-no! We’re… We’re just dating! Not married! N-not that-that I haven’t thought about… B-but that’s not-... oh...”

“We’ll just take a single room for two nights,” I giggled at his rambling. I gave her the Jewel and went to sign the book. She handed me the key and I smiled, “Thank you.”

I turned to see Laxus trying to blend into the background, face still burning. I laughed as I grabbed his arm, “Come on.”

When we got to the room he flopped facedown on the bed.

“I’m an idiot,” He groaned into the pillows.

“You’re a cute idiot though.” He turned his head to glare at me, “What? You got all blushy and it was cute!”

I dropped my bag on the dresser and laid next to him.

“I didn’t know it was so easy to get you all flustered,” I teased. “I mean, she only asked if it was our honeymoon.”

“Oh I’m easy to fluster?” He challenged.

“I never said I wasn’t!” I laughed, “This isn’t about me!”

After we spent some time laughing, I looked over at him, “I’m hungry, let’s go get some food?”

“Sure. What were you thinking?”

“Pizza?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Grabbing some Jewel, we went to wander around until we found a good looking pizza place.

As we wandered, we came across a stall with pretty flower crowns, necklaces, and bracelets. The vendor saw me looking with one of my hands wrapped in Laxus’, and cheerily greeted us.

“What an adorable couple!” He clasped his hands under a chin. “And if I remember correctly, members of Fiore’s strongest guild, Fairy Tail.”

I smiled slightly uncomfortable.

“Please, take something!” He insisted, “I’m such a fan of young love, and to think one of Fiore’s premier couples would be wearing something from my cart!”

“Free huh?” Laxus looked over my shoulder at the man’s wares. “You’d look nice with that one.”

He pointed to a crown with sunflowers and white flowers.

“You think so?” The vendor carefully picked it up and set it on my head. “Thank you. Hmmm.”

I knew a little about flowers, my mom owned a flower shop back in Magnolia. Most of the flowers in this cart had romantic meanings. I saw a small bunch of white Camellias and took one, tucking it in Laxus’ hair and kissing his cheek. He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were a bight shade of pink. 

I smiled and thanked the man before going back to our pizza search.

The sun was nearly set by the time we found a locally loved pizzeria. We were seated in a back courtyard dining area. There were fairy lights and a fountain that reflected them. It just seemed to sparkle out here.

As we waited for the pizza, you could feel static in the air, my fair started sticking up.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine, just a little out of my element.” He admitted. I nodded and it went quiet again. They brought out the food and we still didn’t talk.

“Have you really thought about marrying me?” I asked, nervously playing with my hands.

“I…” I’d caught him mid-bite and he swallowed, “I.. I mean… Sure I have.”

“You’ve been my best friend longer than Flamebrain’s been in the guild. Since we were both kids,” He continued, “I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers and… Yeah, the thought’s crossed my mind a few times… I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you in that dress during the games.”

“I love you too.” I smiled at him, holding back tears.

“You’re crying!” He panicked, “D-did I say something wro-”

“No! No. It’s okay, I’m just happy, is all.”

He let out a relieved sigh, smiling back.

We finished our food and headed back to the inn.

We got cleaned up and went to bed, a tangled mess of limbs.

~~~~~

“Gah!” I landed harshly on the ground, skidding until I hit a tree. I slammed my fist in the dirt and pushed myself up. “Bastard!”

“You good?” Laxus landed next to me.

“I’ll live,” I grumbled, looking at the monster that threw me as it roared. “It’s stronger than I thought.”

“Yea, I didn’t expect an S-class monster from a regular job.” He helped pull me to my feet. “I think if you hit me with a Power surge and we try to Unison raid, we might be able to cut it down quickly.”

“Sounds good.” I nodded, backing up, “Two-Layer Magic Circle: Power Surge!”

A beam of light wrapped around the dragon slayer, boosting his magic power.

“Let’s do this!” Laxus shouted and he grabbed my hand, “Lightning Dragon Secret Art:”

“Eight Layer Magic Circle:”

“Earth Shatter!”/“Roaring Thunder!”

A blast of magic erupted in front of the monster, the ground around it cracking and exploding, as the thing was electrocuted.

I let out a sigh as it fell to the ground, dead.

“We should grab some of its teeth,” Laxus said, “They’re a rare material used to make magical weapons.”

I nodded, drawing whatever energy was left in its gums, making the teeth fall out. He grabbed a few and we started back to the mansion the client lived in. The man was extremely grateful and gave us the 325,000 Jewel.

We were walking back to Crocus, his arm around my shoulders.

“I can’t believe he added another 25,000 Jewel!” I squealed. “I’ll finally be able to redo that horrendous bathroom!”

“Of course you’re thinking of interior design right now,” he chuckled.

“Shut up!” I blushed.

“Nah, it’s cute!”

~~~~~~ 

[blackcatkita]

Merry Christmas Baby

Book- #LoveHacks

Pairing- Mark x Dani (MC)

My bestie needed some fluff in her life so I decided to give her some! She picked the pairing and I ran with it. This one goes out to you @darley1101 I hope you like it! I’m submitting this to @choicesseasonalprompts for the song that is this fics title. I’m tagging my perma tag and LH tag, if you want to be added/removed/moved to a specific book (TRR, BB, PM, BSC, TE, ILB or LH) or pairing, you need only ask. (I won’t be offended) If you enjoy this, please like, comment or reblog, I appreciate every single note! Also, my Masterlist link can be found on my bio because tumblr is a butt. Word Count- 1479

On her way to meet Mark to paint the living room and entrance hall of the old Victorian they bought eight months ago, Dani listens to Christmas carols on the radio as she sits at a red light, drumming her fingers on top of the steering wheel and chewing on her lower lip. All she wanted to do was celebrate their first Christmas as home owners in their new home, but they hadn’t even been able to move in yet. Christmas was a week away, clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

When they bought the place thirty minutes outside the city, they knew it needed work, but they had no idea how many issues would surface once they started renovating. The foundation was solid thank God, because the previous owners changed it from brick to concrete years prior and they had replaced all of the lead plumbing. The problem was, they changed it sixty years ago to galvanized pipes that had already begun to deteriorate, and Mark and Dani had to redo it all again with copper. It already had a modern furnace and central air, but the unit didn’t heat or cool the upper levels and they had to replace it with a split unit instead. The inspector said the roof needed to be redone within the next few years, but one heavy rainfall told them it couldn’t wait. Unless they also wanted to replace all the ceilings and walls on the top floor too. The electrical had to be updated and replaced, including all the outlets. Sections of siding were rotted as were some of the window sills. The gorgeous staircase was painted bright ass blue of all things, and when Dani finally soaked and scraped and sanded it all off, it uncovered warped and damaged wood. The entire thing had to be rebuilt. Too bad they didn’t know that before she spent so many hours on the damn thing. It was issue after issue, expense after expense and that didn’t include any of the cosmetic things that needed to be done as well.

The kitchen and bathrooms were outdated but functional and would have to wait. All of the wood trim was now ripped down but they really weren’t looking forward to replacing it considering some of the walls were no longer straight and the corners weren’t exactly at ninety degrees. They couldn’t do that until they were done painting and they couldn’t paint until all of the garish wallpaper was removed. Dani had been working on the thick gold wallpaper that covered the living room the last time she was there but when she started brandishing a hammer, Mark grabbed it out of her hand and told her she wasn’t allowed to come back for three days. She listened. Mostly because if she hadn’t, her other idea was a flamethrower.

The smooth voice of Otis Redding singing Merry Christmas Baby cuts out as her phone rings through the speakers of her black Honda Accord. Glancing down as the light changes, she sees “My Man” display on the screen and she feels her stomach clench as she presses on the gas, preparing herself for more bad news. The fireplace and chimney needed repairs and it was supposed to be ready to use today but she had learned that most of the time, a contractor’s definition of deadline was a hell of a lot different than the rest of the worlds. Letting out a groan, she rakes her fingers through her long brown hair and flips it to the other side of her head before hitting the answer button on the steering wheel. “Please don’t tell me they didn’t finish the fireplace.” She says in way of greeting.

“You used to be an optimist.” Mark laughs.

“Uh huh. I’m optimistic there was a family of possums living in the chimney and they refused to relocate.”

“Nah, the fireplace is good to go. The possums moved out when they started working on it. Didn’t like all the banging.” He laughs again. “I was just calling to tell you I got pizza on the way here so you didn’t stop to pick something up. What’s your ETA?”

“Turning onto the street now.” Dani replies, slowing down to make the right hand turn.

“Sounds good Shnookums. See you in a few.”

Laughing, Dani shakes her head. “You are such a dork.”

“Already been established.”

Mark hangs up as Dani pulls up to the house, stopping to grab the bags of cabinet hardware and new faucets from her trunk. They had yet to decide if they were refinishing or replacing the kitchen and bathroom cabinets because that could wait, but that didn’t mean they had to live with brass fixtures in the meantime. Looking at the landscaping lining the front walk, less overgrown than when they bought it, she doesn’t notice that curtains are drawn across the living room windows until she begins to ascend the steps. When had Mark put those up and why? Now they just had to take them down to paint.  

The door opens and Mark stands before her, smiling as he takes the bags from her hands. “Wait there.” He instructs, leaving her confused as he sets the bags down in the foyer. “I have a surprise for you.” He shuts the door and steps up behind her, covering her eyes before guiding her forward. She giggles as he turns them left into the living room, staying quiet because she knows that asking what the surprise is would prove fruitless. Mark stops walking and she feels his chest press against her back as he leans down, making her shiver when his lips brush her ear. “Ready?” He whispers.

She nods and he removes his hands, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her tight and resting his chin on her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she gasps, hand flying to her mouth at the sight in front of her. “Mark… when?... How?…” She marvels, eyes wide as they sweep the room. Above the burning logs in the fireplace, the mantle was hung with two stockings and adorned with garland, twined together with white twinkling lights. A Christmas tree, decorated and shining with more white lights stood in front of the large window, and behind it, the curtains were hung on a wall, not only free of hideous gold wallpaper, but painted in the light grey color they chose together. There wasn’t any furniture, save for a coffee table that held the pizza, wine glasses and a bottle of wine in an ice bucket, but Mark had laid large cushions and blankets in the middle of the room. “This is…” Dani’s breath catches in her throat as happy tears flood her eyes. “This is so perfect Mark. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“I would do anything for you Dani you know that.” Mark replies, holding her tighter. “I know how bad you wanted to host Christmas here and it sucks that the renovations are taking so long. We might not be able to have everyone over to celebrate this year, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have our own celebration just the two of us.”

She wipes the tears from her cheeks and turns in his arms, looping her arms around his neck as she raises herself on her tip-toes to kiss him. “When did you have time to do it all?”

“I used a few vacation days. I was kind of freaked out you were going to surprise me for lunch or something but the whole office knew if you showed up, they were to tell you I was stuck in meetings all day and couldn’t be disturbed.” A deep chuckle vibrates in his chest. “And once I realized what a bitch that god awful wallpaper was, I enlisted the gang for help.” Overwhelmed by the love she has for her husband, new tears spill from her eyes as she blinks and Mark frowns, reaching up to brush her tears away with his thumb. “Hey… why are you crying?”

“I’m just so happy.” Sniffling, she smiles. “You knew I wanted Christmas here and even though it’s not going to happen this year, you still made my dream come true. I love you so much Mark. Thank you for this.”

“You are very welcome. This house has been a pain in the ass, but my home is wherever you are and when it’s finally done, it’s going to be perfect because it’s ours. I love you more than anything in this world Dani and I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing everything in my power to make your dreams come true.” His arms tighten around her, pulling her as close as possible while he rests his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he whispers against her lips. “Merry Christmas Baby.”

_____

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LH only- @krsnlove @boneandfur

[araneaes-order]

In the Bleak Mid-winter Ch. 5

LAST HERALD-MAGE FANFIC

Fix-it…ish. canon mm

Young Stefen, living on the streets, found out someone was looking for him and decided to lay low, avoiding the mysterious stranger in red, so he’s never taken to Haven by Bard Lynnell. It was an unfortunate decision, but in spite of it, he and Van do meet up, just later, and under less kind circumstances. Basically a redo on the ending. ~55k words Finished.

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Visit my master list

Word Count: ~5280

Rating: Mature for, sorry, lots of bad stuff, rape, sexual abuse, child abuse. Canon was pretty dark, especially what I was redoing here, so’s this.

On AO3.

Chapter Synopsis: Van and Stefen continue north together.

In this only the Bard and the Companion were in complete agreement.

“It’s suicide!” Stefen insisted.

:You may as well let him take you to Leareth in chains.:

She wasn’t far off, but he remained implacable.

Yfandes could see how set his mind was on this course; the Bard fought him longer but eventually gave in as well.

At a guess, and at only a slight probing with his Empathy, Vanyel would say the boy felt guilty for what he’d brought Van into.

By now Vanyel himself was inclined to be more practical: the Bard could get him to Leareth, perhaps get him close enough to see what power the dark mage really had amassed and enable him to send Yfandes with specifics to get backup from the other Heralds—which should have been his plan all along if he hadn’t let his personal grief cloud his usually much more calculated thinking.

Arrogant fool.

“I will take however much you have left of that powder, though.” He told the Bard, not phrasing it as a request.

The boy nodded and reached into a hidden pocket in his shirt, a cutpurse’s trick for hiding what they’d stolen, pulling out a fistful of small, gray, waxed-paper packets.

Vanyel spread them out on his palm, counting, before he looked up again. “That’s all of them?”

Stefen nodded, eyes darting to meet Van’s and then away. “That and the two I used, one for you, one for her.”

“And the darts?”

He made a face. “Left with my gear at the guard post.”

His words matched Vanyel’s stolen memories from the bandits who’d seen Master Dark’s man charge Stefen with the capture. Ten small packets; eight now. And the pre-poisoned darts had been carefully wrapped in cloth and kept in a wooden box for safety; he couldn’t hide those in any pocket.

“Thank you.”

The only question as far as Van was concerned was whether to let Stefen ride one of the little mountain ponies the brigands had used or to ride double on Yfandes. She made her objections to carrying the Bard very clear—and the Bard made his objections to riding double clear as well, when Vanyel decided that it was the wiser course anyway. She could go much faster than any pony, and it would be easier for Vanyel to cast a seeming on them if they were all one ‘mass’ instead of two.

“She’ll bite me!” the Bard said, glaring at ‘Fandes.

“She won—stop that!” Van said to her when she snapped at the Bard to prove his words.

:Behave! We need him.:

:We’d travel faster alone. And much more safely.:

:We’ve been over this: he can get us closer to Leareth than we can get alone. He knows where to find him and can keep us from stumbling into him, blind.:

She lapsed into sullen silence.

He finished strapping down what meager supplies he dared pack, knowing he’d already be pushing her to carry two.

:You’re a feather. And that Bard’s even smaller,: she grumped.

He stroked her neck and rested his head against her for a moment. :Be kind, dear heart. I swear, we need him. I don’t think we can do what we must without him.:

Her ears pricked. :You have a plan?: she asked hopefully. He knew she’d never cared for the first one—straight confrontation and probably Final Strike, if the mage was as powerful as Vanyel’s dreams had long foretold—and it hadn’t changed enough to trouble her with it yet. If anything, he knew she’d like what he thinking now even less.

:I’m considering options,: he answered diplomatically, but she knew him too well to take much encouragement from that.

Van mounted with the ease of long practice and held his hand down for Stefen. He’d been content to leave everything behind but his gittern: a true penitent or just a true Bard, Van couldn’t decide, but when the boy grasped his arm, he pulled him up behind him to ride pillion. ‘Fandes didn’t have the right saddle for it but they’d have to make do.

They were still in sight of the ruined hall when Yfandes jerked her head and stared off towards the west.

:Riders,: she warned him and broke in a run in the opposite direction, kicking up snow in their wake. The unexpected burst of speed had the Bard grabbing at Van’s waist. He patted the boy’s hand but kept his focus on the forest around them.

:Should we go back to investigate?: he wondered.

:No,: she answered, her mind-voice unusually dark. :You want to go see what Leareth is up to. That’s where we’ll go. I just hope you’re right that we can trust this Bard.:

Van and ‘Fandes both swept the surrounding woods and hills for signs of other people as they rode, but they found only the small, quiet minds of animals around them.

Yfandes corrected her course once she and Vanyel were certain that they’d bypassed the riders she’d sensed closer to the keep, though they crossed twice more with the path the riders had cut through the forests, marked clearly in churned snow and broken underbrush.

In so wide an expanse as this hard, northern country, it was sheer luck that Yfandes stumbled out into Rendan and Tan’s campsite—except that they were clearly backtracking the path the other riders had taken and obviously they’d been here first.

Both of the men were frozen, stripped to the skin, flesh gone blue and crystalline. They were hideously curled, preserved in their death throes as they’d been impaled on solid wooden stakes, driven like flagpoles into the ground around their dead campfire.

Rendan looked less anguished, perhaps already dead, or dead quickly after he’d been impaled, hanging limp on the pole that nevertheless kept even his lower-dangling leg a good foot off the ground. Tan had not been so lucky it seemed; both of his hands were frozen in rigor and ice around the part of the pole that protruded from his stomach, as though he’d fought to drag himself up or off.

“Gods!” Stefen breathed. “Uwald’s men got them.”

“You can tell who did this?”

“Uwald likes to take eyes, tongues, and…privates. Feeds them to his hounds. Says it keeps them hungry for hunting more,” he answered faintly, breaking up his words like he was fighting not to be sick.

Van had assumed that carrion birds had done that, but now that Stefen suggested otherwise it did seem unlikely that even the most determined scavenger could have braved the ever-worsening weather just to eat those parts alone, without even nibbling at anything else.

“If Uwald did this to Rendan, he’ll have gone over afterwards to check the keep…” the Bard continued after a moment, as ‘Fandes turned and picked up the pace to put the campsite behind them.

:Definitely our riders, then,: ‘Fandes thought, mind deliberately blank about the scene they’d just left.

“…and if Rendan told them about you before they took his tongue—”

“They’ll be coming after us,” Van said.

The snow never seemed to stop falling, an endless, suffocating blanket, darkening the sky and clinging to them with a determined tackiness that made Van think of spider’s webs, even as it dragged at Yfandes’ hooves.

The day wore onto night in a relentless blur of cold and snow and black, twisted branches reaching towards them while cracked black stones jutted from snowdrifts, blocking their way.

In a distressingly short time Vanyel began to feel the weariness weighing on him again. He’d done nothing but rest for nearly four days, but the speed at which he’d forced his body to heal had a price too, aside from the magic itself, and it was hard to stay awake in the saddle.

Even so, he’d thought he was handling it until he felt the Bard shaking his shoulder to rouse him from the doze he’d fallen into.

“We have to stop,” Stefen said.

“You can rest later,” he snapped. “We need to get as far as we can before we camp for the night.”

“I can rest later, but you and your lady are about to tumble over.”

The chiding in Stefen’s voice turned Van’s foggy thoughts to Yfandes, who had slowed to little more than a regular horse’s walking pace, her head down and ears folded back against the driving wind.

:’Fandes?:

:I’m fine!: she answered, as snappish as he’d been, and he smiled ruefully.

“How far are we from Crookback Pass?”

He could feel the heavy, borrowed cloaks around them shift as the Bard moved, trying to take stock of where they were. “We’re—oh!” he sounded surprised, as though until just now he hadn’t recognized the pace the Companion had kept to all day, which was likely, as monotonous as their surroundings were. But the distant mountains they’d faced that morning were now considerably less distant. “About another day, riding like this? Maybe less?”

:Sounds good enough to me, love.: he told her gently and though she didn’t respond immediately, she did come to a halt.

He’d done his best to strengthen and restore his own magical reserves with power tapped from local ley lines, but he was afraid to take too much, in case their enemy was watching those rivers and streams of power that ran through the land he’d already laid claim to. It was mostly because of Yfandes’ support that he was doing as well as he was, but that meant his recovery was taking a toll on her as well.

:Then it’s good enough for me.: She relaxed enough to allow her own weariness to color her mind-voice. He leaned forward to scratch between her ears.

:I’m sorry,: he told her, with a deep and true regret. His dearest friend and look what he was doing—

:They were my friends too, Van,: she thought at him firmly, sending him images of Shonsea, Rohan, and Kellen, as well as their Heralds, but this time she showed them as they had all been in better days, conspirators in joy, consolers in sorrow. :And Valdemar is my country. I love you, Chosen, but with you or with another, I would be just as determined to meet this threat.:

She sounded almost apologetic over the last, but he found it was a comfort to him. Of course, she was so much to him that he could forget that their bond had been forged for more than their own sakes; and it was what they valued as much as who and what they were that made that made that bond so strong.

:I’m making it about me again, aren’t I, love?: he asked with a sheepish chuckle.

She tossed her head in a weary, playful nod while she took them a bit further, to the shelter of an outcropping of tall rocks.

The Bard staggered and groaned when he dismounted, shaking himself like a wet dog and obviously fighting shaky legs, and Van smirked but didn’t comment.

There’s one point for the older set, he thought smugly.

:Or just the set who’s more used to being in a saddle for days on end without rest.:

He just laughed, not so tired he couldn’t call up a little bubble of warmth as he’d done every night on the way north, creating a small, temporary shelter from the cold inside a broken circle of standing stones, so he could focus on stripping Yfandes’ tack and gear and getting her warmed and rubbed down.

“Can you start a fire?” he asked the Bard, who’d taken off one glove and was waving his bare hand through the balmy air and looking as startled as he had when he’d realized how far they’d traveled in a day. He hadn’t seemed to notice yet that below his boots the snow was fast melting away, exposing dry ground and scrub. He jumped a little when he did but managed a strangled “Sure?” and he focused on the hunt for enough kindling to hide his discomfort with Van’s display of casual power.

:I’d get on you for showing off…:

:…but?: he inquired, not used to her restraint.

:But I don’t care, as long as we get warmed up,: she sighed.

Once they were warmed and the small fire was crackling Van relaxed his hold on that shield against the weather. The difference was instantaneous, but he didn’t want to drain himself more than he had to. He’d keep it warm enough for them not to freeze in their bedrolls and to keep Yfandes from stiffening up overnight but that didn’t require it to be comfortable.

He noticed Stefen’s sudden shiver, but the boy didn’t complain, just finished his share of the jerky and travel bread, and stared morosely at the fire between them.

He’d been there for many of the atrocities the bandits had remembered, if only the ones where victims were dragged back to the keep, and obviously he had knowledge of the dealings of other brigand bands in the area as well. Was he haunted by the memory of the campsite they’d stumbled on that morning, or was it old hat to a jaded young psyche?

Vanyel still wondered at that, even while he was drifting off again. He’d crawled into his bedroll before he’d let the warming spell slip, and curled up beside Yfandes’ big warm body as well.

Stefen finished his meal and took to his bedroll not long after, looking alone and small and young.

For the first time in a while, Van didn’t dream of ice and snow. He didn’t dream of his last stand, alone in a mountain pass, choosing to die so he could take his enemy with him.

He dreamed of late spring sun, and a field of wildflowers outside Haven. He was young again, riding Yfandes while she galloped with joyous ease through a bright, warm day, Tylendel laughing behind him, riding pillion. Lendel’s arms were around him, his chest at Vanyel’s back, surrounding him with love and laughter and just that presence that he missed, that he would never stop missing.

Van cried, even though he wanted to hold on to the feeling of peace he’d felt at first, but Lendel soothed him with wordless nonsense and kissed his cheek. “Soon, Van. We’re so close!”

What was ‘soon’ to an immortal boy, living in a world of eternally bright and beautiful days? A warning? A promise? A consolation?

Van didn’t have the chance to obsess over it, or whether the dream was anything but wishful thinking: there was someone else, besides the Bard, in their camp.

It was subtle, but he knew the crunch of boots on snow, especially the creeping crunch of someone trying to be quiet. Perhaps it had even been what had woken him.

He opened his eyes and saw the Bard. He’d been up for a while, by the look of him, sitting by the fire, cross-legged, with his cloak and his bedroll both wrapped around his shoulders. The firelight made him glow, his auburn hair an echo of the flame, framed before the dark trunk of the tree that, many decades ago, had interrupted the circle of standing stones, and who’s thick, overhanging branches had given it a roof.

Had Stefen betrayed them after all?

As though in answer the boy met Van’s eyes and shook his head. Play dead, he mouthed.

:Vanyel?: Yfandes’ mind-voice was slurred but he got the sense of her rising concern as she began to shift behind him.

:Be still,: he told her.

:You’re trusting him?: she demanded, quickly apprised of the situation. Though she heeded him and seemed to settle down again, even as he had, it was only because he was lying half against her that he was able to feel the tension still in her body.

:Let’s see how it plays out,: he said, trusting to instinct that had served him better in conflict than his spotty Gift of ForSight ever had.

The crunching stopped. Just because Van was willing to wait and see what the boy was planning to do didn’t mean he didn’t mentally sweep the area to find out what was against them. Four minds, one Gifted, though modestly by the standards of most Heralds except—yes, that one was also a mage.

:Spread out for an ambush.: Her distrust of the Bard radiated along their link. She wanted to be gone. He could roll a bit and mount as she stood and they could be off before the youth got to his feet. Long before the four humans closing in on their camp could reach them, if he’d give in to her urging.

:And leave Stefen to them?:

:What of it, if he’s one of theirs?:

Still, he’d been counting more on the fact that between himself and Yfandes they were more than a match for four toughs from the northern woods, even if one was a mage.

“Who goes?” Stefen called, sounding emphatically bored, in the way that only the young truly can.

After a moment there was a more obvious scraping of boots through the snow—and a chuckle, though only one person stepped from the shadows outside the standing stones into the light of the fire. The mage, Vanyel could tell, by the not entirely clean pulse of his power in the small campsite. A blood mage.

“Stefen! My boy! Passing through our land again. And you weren’t going to stop by the hold and make your hullos to old Gerlac?” the voice was low, husky, not with a cold or even with artifice, but as though the speaker had had some damage done to it at one time.

“No, Viga, I wasn’t. I barely made it away from Saski the last time I visited, I have no intention of giving her a chance to paw at me again.” Now he just sounded annoyed.

The mage laughed again, louder, with a nasty edge. “Oh, you just don’t know how to take the affections of a real, warrior woman. She was just trying to express her admiration of your fine…gittern playing.”

“I’m not interested in ‘taking’ the affections of any woman, as well you know. And I’m on Master’s Dark’s business now. I certainly don’t have time for any of Saski’s foolishness. He’d do worse than skin us both if I kept him waiting because of her.”

“Master Dark’s business, you say? You don’t seem to be in too much of a hurry right now, playing campout with your pretty friend there.” He knew who Vanyel was, Van was certain.

The Bard snorted, calling him on it. “C’m’off it Vig, you know who that is and what my business is.”

“He looks very cozy for a captive,” the mage said, finally voicing his suspicions.

“Cozy enough to not cause trouble.”

“Master Dark’s powder should have him a senseless lump. It’s only the two of you here, and his horse—and that one we had orders to kill. You expect me to believe you’re strong enough to manhandle him and control his horse, all the way from Rendan’s hold to Master Dark? Where are Lord Rendan’s men? What are you up to?”

The mage knew of the powder?

:And his Master Dark’s plans for me? Was your little Bard not the only one he sent for us? Do this fool and his friends have some of that damned powder too?:

Stefen yawned. “The powder didn’t work quite as Master Dark said it would. Or the Herald’s stronger than he’d expected, either way. He broke out of it. Several times. Took four doses just to get him quiet enough for Tan and I to drag him back to the keep. Then that idiot Rendan didn’t believe me that he wasn’t as far gone as the Master’s envoy had said he’d be and wanted to rough him up a bit, just for the sport of having one of those boys in white at his mercy.”

Stefen paused.

“Shoulda listened. The fucker woke up and leveled the place.”

“But not you?”

“I’m not an idiot,” he sneered. “When I saw Rendan wasn’t gonna stop I ducked out to the stables, didn’t go back until the hole he punched in the roof stopped smoking. Found him in the middle of the mess, weak as a babe and dosed him—double—again.”

“And the horse?” the mage wasn’t buying it.

“Dumb thing got away from me when I got the Herald—what good am I supposed to be with a godsdamned blow gun? Worked out okay though, the ponies all broke clear through that rotted old paddock gate when the keep went boom, but she showed up, blood in her eye, not long after, and I dosed her too.”

“And how did you get them all the way up here by yourself?” No, he wasn’t buying it at all.

Van readied himself to go for his short sword, hidden under a fold of his bedroll. How much good it would do if the mage did have more of that powder, he didn’t know, but perhaps he could throw the man off with a physical attack, when he was prepared for a magical one, and take him out before he could use it. And just hope that his three cohorts, still lingering out of sight, hadn’t been armed with it as well.

“Music,” the Bard answered, sounding startling self-satisfied.

“Music?” the mage asked, as confused as Van felt.

A quick, waterfall trill of notes rang out from that beat up old gittern Stefen had kept at his side since they’d left the remains of Lord Rendan’s keep.

“Herald, stand!” he commanded, in a theatrically deeper voice, speaking over a lilting melody.

…Okay…

:There’s no way this will work,: ‘Fandes fretted as Van slowly rose, keeping his movements deliberately mechanical, opening his eyes but leaving them unfocused.

“Horse, stand!” With a deep, only slightly annoyed mental grunt, ‘Fandes clambered to her feet as well.

“You see?” Stefen asked in apparent glee.

“They obey you…as long as you’re playing?” the mage’s voice had gone faint.

“Of course! Here, look—Herald, raise your right arm.”

Lord and Lady, this was a farce!

But he obeyed.

“Horse, take one pace forward—Horse, lift your left foreleg—Horse, sidestep right.”

Fandes’ cursing was quite imaginative.

:Don’t think humans bend that way, dearest.:

:He will when I’m done with him.:

“See? But without the music? Nothing.” The gittern fell silent. “Herald, stand on one foot.”

This time Vanyel stayed as he was.

The mage approached him slowly. He tried to make it seem he was still relaxed and unaware of the world around him, but he desperately wished he’d left his sword strapped to him instead of hiding it in the bedroll.

“Wouldn’t, if I were you,” Stefen said, just as the mage’s fingers hovered inches from Van’s cheek. “Remember what I said about Rendan’s messing with him? He doesn’t seem to ever be under that deep.”

The extended hand clenched quickly into a fist and then fell back to the mage’s side. He turned on the Bard.

“This isn’t how the powder is supposed to work! How can this be?” he demanded.

Stefen shrugged. “What do I know? Am I a mage? All I know is—” he started picking out a melody again, something slow and low and dangerous. “I play my little gittern that Master Dark gave me, and that Herald over there does whatever I tell him to.”

It was a threat, a surprisingly clever, and hopefully effective one if the mage actually bought it: that Van’s magic was not suppressed, but subject to the Bard’s song, and that if Van himself were bothered he’d break free of the control of the powder entirely and the mage would face him in truth. Even the implication that the powder was too weak to contain him and it took multiple doses, while painfully untrue, seemed to undermine the mage’s earlier confidence. It was an insane, impossible bluff and the Bard…was pulling it off.

“They’re not very good company, but I won’t have to worry about that for much longer, as soon as I hand them off to the Master. I suppose, long as you made me get them up, we may as well continue on our way. You’ll give Gerlac and Saski my regards?” He never stopped playing, and Vanyel could feel the push behind the notes that said Stefen’s Gift was at play, lending the wordless song a deeply foreboding air.

The trees and bare stone around them suddenly seemed like they might hide more than just this mage’s friends. Worse things, by far. But perhaps the worst possible thing to face was standing right behind the mage, in this camp—

The young man was really very good.

“Uh—ahem, yes, yes—of course! It’s always nice when you pass through, Stefen, my lad. I do hope you come back soon. And stay longer then.” But not any longer now, was the unspoken addendum. “Must be off,” he said, disappearing back the way he’d come, into tall stone- and tree-shadow.

Vanyel stood, not relaxing, though Yfandes was comfortingly at his back, and the Bard sat before him, still playing—while he watched the disquieted minds of the mage and his companions flee.

Only when he felt them pass too far to have thoughts of an easy return did he let his shoulders slump and a sigh escape him. “By the gods, you actually did it!” he muttered, wonderingly.

Stefen finally stilled the disturbing song and grinned up at him, a blinding flash of teeth and joy. “I did, didn’t I?”

:Bard Breda always has said a talented enough Bard could talk themselves out of anything.:

But Stefen’s smile quickly fell and he cast a look over his shoulder at the direction the mage had gone. “We should go, though. In case Viga starts thinking it over and decides to come back to test my story more after all. If you’re so determined to see what Master Dark’s been doing, better with me than with Gerlac’s men. They’re not much better than Uwald and his—I did warn you everyone would be looking for you, fighting to be the one who gets to hand you over.”

Van nodded. “We need food for Yfandes, then we can go.”

All to the better that despite her complaints at the way he’d ordered her around, Yfandes too had been rather impressed with Stefen’s quick thinking and ability to sell his own unlikely lie. She’d softened to him, a little, and had come to trust him, just a bit.

The ride towards the Ice Wall Mountains and Crookback Pass, the only reasonable way through those mountains, was spent much as the day before had been: coursing through an unchanging landscape of white and gray and black, beset by the snow and wind and bitter cold of the storms that raged anew each day.

Leareth’s work, he was certain of it now, though he wished he’d realized it when he’d still been at his own border and could have safely interfered with the weather patterns; now he didn’t dare. All his plans hinged on Leareth not realizing that Van was so close and still free.

But where the day before had been marked by weariness, today was tinged by the high alert of a battle about to be joined. By Stefen’s word, they should reach the pass by tonight. Come morning, Van would know exactly what lay on the other side.

They would take a short rest somewhere outside the pass for Yfandes, but then they would ride through the night, so as not be caught in it. Although he didn’t dare tap any of them, Van was carefully marking the ley lines they passed, in case he had the need and opportunity to use them later. He could feel a node ahead of him, a young one, likely created by Leareth himself and probably it marked the pass, tied to whatever reserves lay in his stronghold beyond the mountains. It was already close enough that he could have tapped into it if he’d had a mind to, which told him how close he was getting to Leareth himself if he’d still had any doubts.

Today it was Stefen who was nodding off, but Vanyel let him. They wouldn’t rest long outside the pass and though he may be young, as Yfandes herself had pointed out, he wasn’t used to spending endless hours on horseback. A Companion’s gate was unnaturally smooth and with his arms around Van it wasn’t too hard to keep them there with a firm grip at one of his wrists. It was pleasant, though a part of him wished it were less so, to have him draped across his back, arms around him like a lover. Though that simple, guilty pleasure felt like more of a betrayal of Lendel than the brief relationships he’d had over the years since his death.

:You like the Bard, in spite of what he did,: ‘Fandes commented tiredly, but he knew it wasn’t the exertion that put that tone in her mind-voice. They were close and they both knew how this would likely end.

:He paid for it.: Though Van still tried not to linger on those memories of his time in Lord Rendan’s keep. :And he saved us this morning. If we’d tried to fight, even if we’d tried to run, that mage and his friends might have caught us with more of that powder. He’s a good ally:

:And?:

He chuckled at her. :And he’s pleasant company. Nice to look at, nice to listen to, and…interesting. I’m glad that we aren’t making this journey alone.: Though for more than one reason.

:…Are you ever going to tell me what you’re planning?:

He’d been guiltily braced to hear hurt in her mind-voice when she finally confronted him on what she had to have known he was keeping silent. Instead she just sounded resigned and that was somehow worse. As long as they’d known each other she’d been nothing but a source of love and support and if his dream was the ForeSight it seemed, and his fate already set, he didn’t want what were possibly their last hours together to be spent this way. :Tonight, love,: he promised. :I’m…not actually sure I’m ready to talk about it yet.:

Her response was wordless, a wash of pure emotion: the love that had saved him following after a broken lifebond, the love that had stood beside him through learning his powers, through war and through political machinations, the love that would make a lie of his ice dream, if only the part where he faced his end alone.

When they reached the mouth of the pass and after Van and ‘Fandes both swept it for magic traps or men waiting in ambush, they found a small protected space at the base of the Ice Wall Mountains themselves.

Vanyel cleared only enough snow for a fire and saw that Yfandes was fed and comfortable for a quick rest—then left her with Stefen. The Bard tried to protest, but Van waved him away. Vanyel wouldn’t let his guard down again and he certainly wasn’t going to sleep.

He sat himself on a flat stone, well away from ‘Fandes and Stefen. With a sigh, he pulled out all eight of the remaining packets of the powder and laid them out on his legs.

:So, Chosen? Will you tell me what this terrible plan is now?:

:I will,: he told her, :And I’m hoping you will help me prepare—:

Continued in Chapter 6

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