#unpleasant things about themselves. me too to be honest I have memories I wish I could erase but I can't especially with regard to my

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Still haven't messaged my mom back. And I don't think I'm going to.

[aprilblossomgirl]

I wish I had more capacity to gush about the romance parts of the show. But I think the backstory pretty much influenced these love lines, which, although we've had bits by bits revealed by each episode, including that fact behind the school curse, I feel like there are still missing pieces for me to understand the whole thing. I've had my guesses but not to the extent that I would comfortably assume them a possibility. There is more to the story than about a rule keeper meets a rule breaker under a very strict school system, I think. Or maybe I'm just thinking too much.

Coming back to the first part of episode 1 after knowing who's behind those curses, I felt a kind of heartache thinking of how much the inner conflict Akk had. He was the one to set the van's brake, also the first (if not the only) one who gave the warning shout, "Look out!" while running towards where the World Remembers were protesting. All with those other students there who could be the ones to have first realized there was a van coming their way. Looking at Akk's face after the incident feels so different now. Was there any guilt and regret he had? So far, it seems that his decision to carry out those curses was something he made on his own. I might be wrong about this though, so we shall see later. But if it was indeed so, what's behind it?

On the other hand, I feel that Ayan's understanding of Akk comes from his good nature but also from what he might have learned from Uncle Dika about the school. He questioned before, "If we break the rules, what will they do to us?" I think Uncle Dika gave him the answer, but how much he told (or did not tell) him? How much that informed Ayan's awareness of Suppalo's school system? Also, what kind of accountability does he expect the school to hold about his uncle? He might have hesitated in putting Akk on his board because he somehow knew that being in such a situation was out of Akk's control. But then, what he already knew about Akk being the one behind the curses was the more reason he needed him to be part of the plan. 

However, now that Ayan has learned that Uncle Dika had a significant influence on Akk, also has got to know Akk better as a person, as a broken young boy as himself, how would that change his mind? Unknowingly perhaps Uncle Dika connected them more than they realized. But they need to talk about it openly and make it mutually clear about what had happened to him despite all the pain that would come out of it.

I was happy that through episode 6, we got to see the different sides of these kids. I hope in episode 7 we'll get to know them more and better. If I remember correctly, someone from the cast/crew team mentioned in the special episode that Akk's home is the second set, after the school, where the filming mostly took place. So, I hope the boys will be there for more than just one episode, I guess (?). Please let them enjoy themselves and their freedom outside the school gate, outside its restraints. Let them be more open and honest and vulnerable with each other. And please, this time, let me just survive the episode.

=====================

Okay, this whole thing might be just me being Wat. 

Not that he's at all wrong. I, too, wish to know better what's with this whole situation with everyone and everything. It's halfway now, and I still think there's a bigger story involved, but again, maybe it could just be me going on another dramatic illusion. Or it’s really just that there is so much for me to talk about this show as it hits home too much which reminds me of those unpleasant memories of grade school period, talking about ridiculous pressure and expectation and foolish assumptions from the school, parents or relatives, and peers, and sometimes yourself.

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 8: Hollywood

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Finally, some air to breathe that isn't from Liu Kang. Maybe a little peace before some angst? But only maybe.

A/N: Had some fun writing Cole Young. Angst everywhere though. Sorry I don't have much to say today. Bad day. Hope you are all doing great though. Sending good vibes all around. Smooches.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

When you’d got tired of the beach you’d gone to the hotel where Liu had told you that the others had been staying while they dealt with Johnny Cage, a B-Movie action star with an ego the size of a washed-up A-list star from twenty years ago.

You’d said goodnight and the next morning you showered and readied yourself for the day. This place was nicer than the motel you’d shared and you had some privacy.

Johnny Cage wasn’t easy to get a hold of, which had been a huge part of the problem. Apparently, they’d had to dance around agents and security and had gotten themselves thrown off of a movie set. Somehow, they had managed to convince him to meet with you the next morning and have an actual conversation about why you were there. You guessed that wasn’t going to go well after all you’d learned.

It also meant that you had some free time, a thing you had grown to hate over the years. Without Kung Lao you were left to your own devices and it almost never went well. Now you had a thousand more horrible things to think about.

You’d stopped Liu that morning after you’d decided you would play tourist. You and Kung Lao had always joked about going to Hollywood and you remembered a few of the places he’d said he’d wanted to see. With your sudden passion for taking photographs, you thought it would appropriate. But Liu was in a mood again and you weren’t about to ask him why.

You’d woken up feeling relatively okay that morning and weren’t about to change that.

If Liu needed to be alone to get out of his mood, then you would let him. Every time he’d been in a mood like that, you had wound up yelling at each other and you were not emotionally prepared to handle his frustration. You were both too volatile.

So, you went sight-seeing. The Hollywood sign had been far less remarkable than you’d expected but you took pictures anyway. The La Brea Tarpits had been nice but you wished you hadn’t been alone. You’d tried to think of how Kung Lao would have reacted but it only served to make you sad. You supposed that alone was your new state of being and you’d have to get used to it. There had been a time where alone was all you’d known, and you had been more than comfortable with it.

It would take a long time to get back to that if you ever managed to. You took to imagining that maybe you would show these pictures to Kung Lao someday. You knew that wasn’t possible, but he would have wanted to see them and hear all about your adventures. That was heartbreaking in and of itself, but it did give you a new purpose as you traveled throughout Hollywood. It wasn’t often that you got to play tourist in new places. you had always talked about going there together just to see the Chinese Theater and the Walk of Fame. He’d wanted to take a picture with Bruce Lee’s star.

Then you sat and people watched on Hollywood Boulevard, wondering what their lives must be like. Some were obvious tourists. You liked to think that their visiting the Walk of Fame was a fulfillment of a lifelong dream. Others were on their way to work or just living their lives, not bothering with the star-studded walkway as though it were nothing more than a gateway from where they were to where they were going. None of them were wrong but it was nice to focus on the lives of others rather than the mess that was yours.

You browsed through the photos that you’d taken that morning. You’d asked a stranger to take a picture of you next to Bruce Lee’s star and smiled at the photograph. Kung Lao would have loved that.

You’d both been fans of old martial arts films and no one was more iconic than Bruce Lee.

After dating for a few months, you and Kung Lao had taken to sneaking out to the closest towns and renting rooms in motels and inns just so you could watch those movies together. You’d continued that tradition throughout the entirety of your relationship up until the last six months. Things had gotten sticky and confusing then. You’d both been busy and had fought more than usual. You’d been thinking about suggesting a weekend away after you’d gotten back from your trip so that you could touch base and figure things out.

So much for that.

You should have suggested it earlier.

The past was the past, you reminded yourself.

You couldn’t let it get to you no matter how it felt like a dagger twisting in your chest each time you thought about what you should have done. Rubbing your sore and tired eyes, you put the phone into your bag and closed your eyes, listening to the monotony of humanity passing by.

In one of those hotels was where you and Kung Lao had your first time. You’d been watching Enter the Dragon, discussing the importance of the role, and your experiences first seeing the movie in your childhood. You still remembered how his lips felt- soft and sticky, sweet and fermented with the flavor of the plum wine you’d been sharing.

You’d ignored the movie and made out instead, like giddy teenagers. You’d been the one to push him further. Kung Lao had asked you if you were certain which had been sweet. It had broken the floodgates.

He had certainly tried before then- many times. He’d never been subtle about it and he’d never pushed you beyond your limit though he did try to push his luck. When you told him no, he always listened and had never once made you feel guilty about it. You had been grateful for his patience then. Holding your head in your hands you sighed.

Even your fondest memories of him were tainted with sadness. You wondered if there would ever only be fondness and no sorrow attached to thoughts of him. Realistically you knew that there would be but for now it felt improbable. The photos you’d taken that day brought you a little peace. It had been kind of cathartic to do something in Kung Lao’s honor rather than fixating on the only piece of him you had left while drenched in guilt for a thousand different reasons.

Sleeping with his best friend was at the very top of that list.

At least you hadn’t done it while you’d been dating. What a tiny, tiny sad silver lining that was on your sad, shitty story.

“Y/N? Is that you?” An unfamiliar voice called your name so you sat alert. That was upsetting. To be called out by a voice you had never heard in the middle of your contemplation. A tall, well-built, handsome man approached you. He had a kind smile and what you could only describe as 90s protagonist hair. “This must be weird. Sorry. I’m Cole Young.” He held his hand out to introduce himself and you shook it but were cautious. As if sensing that you didn’t trust him, he pulled down the collar of his shirt to show you the dragon marking on his chest. That was proof enough.

“Sorry, you startled me. I was lost in my own little world.” You offered for him to take the seat across from you at the table you’d been occupying at a little bistro. You’d bought food but had given it away. Your appetite hadn’t been the best the past few days. Thinking about Kung Lao or Liu Kang for extended periods did away with any hunger you had. “It’s nice to meet you finally. I will be honest and say I haven’t heard much about you. I don’t think many personal stories were swapped with the company I keep. I did hear, however, that you are a nice enough man.”

“That’s the best I can hope for. I didn’t hear much about you either. Raiden showed me what you looked like and I knew you and Liu were supposed to arrive soon.” He took the seat you offered and for a time you swapped pleasantries. He was nice, as advertised, but you hadn’t been expecting socialization so you felt awkward. “What brings you to this part of town, Y/N?” He asked when things fell silent. You’d expected him to say that it had been nice to meet you and go on his way. Instead, he insisted upon more small talk. He seemed bored.

“Doing some sightseeing. Taking some pictures for a friend.” You weren’t sure why you felt the need to justify your motives but you’d been instantly defensive. Liu Kang had made you defensive about everything. Kung Lao would have called you out on it and you smiled at the memory. “What about you?”

“Sightseeing with the family. Allison and Emily are doing some window shopping. I spotted you and was tired of shopping so I figured I’d say hi.” He laughed. Presumably, Allison and Emily were his wife and child. He hadn’t clarified but you’d been told he had family. “Thanks for the escape.” That explained why he’d seemed bored.

“Anytime.” Silence again. You were terrible at conversation right now. You felt outside of yourself. You weren’t ready to talk casually about nothing. “It’s nice to finally meet you. You’re as lovely as everyone said you were. Well, Raiden didn’t use those words exactly but I’ve been around him long enough to understand what he meant.”

“He has a way about him, Raiden.” Cole chuckled, leaning back in his chair. The breeze felt nice and the silence less awkward. “Is the friend you’re taking pictures for Kung Lao?”

You stiffened up and were sure that your expression was suddenly unpleasant. It was too late to hide your gut reaction- tongue over your bottom teeth, lips turned in a frown, eyes closed in frustration. Not an attractive look and definitely not one that would disguise how off guard you’d been taken by the question and how inappropriately personal it was.

He’d known Kung Lao too. The scar on his arm was from his hat. You’d been told in detail much of Kung Lao’s last few days thanks to Raiden.

“Too personal??” Cole winced apologetically.

“It’s okay.”

“He seemed like the kind of guy who would enjoy this.”

“He was. And yes, I was taking pictures for him. He would have wanted to see it.” He would have wanted to be there with you was what you meant, but you were sure Cole got that. He seemed like a smart enough guy. He nodded and silence fell again.

“I’m sorry.” He was avoiding your eyes this time.

“For what?”

“I feel responsible. He was protecting me. He was safe. Gone. He came back to protect me.” Cole had proven to you quickly that he was, in fact, a good man.

“No, Cole.” You scooted to the end of your seat. “Kung Lao made a choice to protect you. He wouldn’t want you to take the blame for what happened.”

“Liu Kang said the same thing.”

“I’m not surprised.” Exhaustion washed over you like a cold wave, tingling down your spine. Grief weighed heavily on your shoulders.

“How are you holding up? With all of this?” Cole gestured to nothing in particular. “It’s not easy to get back to normal after this. Even for me.”

“You seem like a nice guy, Cole, but I don’t know you and this is a very intimate conversation you’ve started.” You began to let him down gently. You weren’t comfortable talking about this with people you’d known for years so you definitely weren’t comfortable talking to a complete stranger about it.

“I get it. I just… wanted to check in.”

“I’m okay.” You assured him and when he didn’t seem to believe you, you smiled and continued. “I’ll be honest and vague. I’ll tell you what I tell everyone who asks me about it. It doesn’t get easier. I carry it better some days than others. People keep telling me that time brings distance but I’m not there yet. Despite that, I’m okay. Really.”

“I’m sorry.” He really did seem like a nice guy. “It’s hard to lose someone you care about.”

“It is.” You weren’t going to talk about it with him. You didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. You were tired of thinking about it. You thought about it constantly. “Can you fill me in on what’s going on with this actor?” A change of subject had to help.

“Oh, yeah.” Cole rolled his eyes and you laughed in surprise. “The only reason he’s even agreed to meet with us is because Sonya pinned one of his bodyguards when he tried to have us removed. He had a very brief conversation with us that was mostly inappropriate comments at Sonya’s expense. When I tried to explain to him what the dragon mark meant he said something about being a weird pitch for a movie. Still, he’s agreed to meet with us again so that’s something.” Cole sighed as though this had been a long and frustrating process. “I’m hoping that Liu can be more convincing. His arcana is impressive and might get him listening.”

“He’s good at that.” You considered that he hadn’t been over the last week. “I can help if need be. I can make a pretty dramatic first impression if I need to.”

“No one told me about your arcana.” Cole rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. This was a much more comfortable and relaxed conversation. Far less awkward, thankfully. “I asked Liu this morning when I ran into him but he was touchy when I brought it up.”

“Not surprised by that.”

“Yeah?” Cole’s curiosity was funny. You were reminded of a few of your monk friends back at Raiden’s Temple. When you’d first arrived there had been nothing but gossip. He was just making polite conversation, but it was still a little funny.

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“What’s your arcana, then?”

“It’s easier to show you. Everyone gets the wrong impression when I tell them. And to show you? I need privacy.” You gestured down the block. “Is that okay?”

“Sure. Allison’s going to call me when they’re done.” Cole stood. You left a tip with the server and then walked with Cole down the street and into an alleyway between shops. You were still at risk of being seen but you would be careful. No one would believe what they saw anyway. “So?”

“Now I just need you to promise not to panic.” You laughed and backed a little bit away from him so you were facing toward the street and could keep an eye out for passersby.

“Why would I panic?”

You decided it was better to just show him than explain. It rarely made sense without showing it off anyway. You stepped back and studied Cole which elicited an eyebrow raise from him. Then you gestured with your index finger from the ground up. You created an ink copy of Cole. He stepped back from it in surprise so you made the clone mimic his movements.

These clones were easy enough to create but, in the beginning, it had been mostly on accident of either Kung Lao or Liu Kang since that was who you had spent the most time with. One of your first fights with Kung Lao had been about how your arcana always became Liu Kang when you panicked. There hadn’t ever been any resolution to it. The mimicked ‘drawings’ as you referred to them behaved in ways that you were familiar with but not knowing Cole, you studied him and copied his current motions.

The drawings drained you faster than creating inanimate objects would which was why you didn’t do it very often. But this trick was easy enough to give Cole an idea of what you could do. He looked to you for affirmation and you nodded. He then readied his stance for a fight so you mimicked him. Then he laughed and jumped from foot to foot and pointed at the ink version of him doing the same. “You can just do that? With anyone?”

“Among other things. This is the trick that freaks people out the most though.”

“So, your arcana is what? Cloning?

“Ink.” You corrected and with a snap of your fingers the drawing was gone and instead you used your forefinger to write his name in Chinese in the air. “It was Liu’s ideas to use it for mimicry. Kung Lao suggested weapons. Both have been pretty useful but keeping up the… for lack of a better word, puppets, is much more work. Liu would make things out of flame and I would mimic it with my ink until one day I accidentally mimicked him.”

“Accidentally?”

“Yeah. I’d gotten so familiar with him during training that instead of the fire, the ink became Liu Kang. After that we focused on drawing more specific things.” You drew a jian with a simple slap of your palms together. The weapons and shadows had once dripped with ink. You’d been using them for years now and so they didn’t look like ink anymore. They looked more like black crystal. “I’m pretty good at it these days.”

“I’d say.” Cole laughed and then pulled his phone from his pocket as if he’d gotten a message. “Well, if Liu can’t convince this guy to take us seriously then you can have him kick his own ass.”

“Guess I’m going to have to watch one of his movies so I can be familiar with him.” Maybe you’d do that tonight at the hotel.

“Hey, Ally and Emily want to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to join us? You’re welcome to.” Cole gestured back out to the street and you followed him. Your instinct was to say no. To go back to your hotel room and isolate yourself but that was your sadness talking. This was an opportunity. A choice. You could go back to your room and wallow in your misery or you could join Cole and his family and get to know them a bit better.

Distance yourself a little from the misery.

“I’d like that.” You decided and Cole smiled brightly.

“Good!” You followed Cole down the street to meet up with his wife and daughter. Every bit of your brain was objecting to the fact that you’d agreed but you knew it was the right thing to do. Kung Lao would have never let you wallow the way that you were. He would have dragged you out of bed and either tried to fix what was bothering you or distract you. There was nothing Kung Lao or anyone could do to fix this but if you at least tried to get out of your head then you might just help yourself.

Next Chapter >>

[anistarrose]

hello, my love (ao3)

a slightly late @taznovembercelebration fic for the day 19 prompt “established relationship,” albeit in possibly the least conventional sense of the phrase. in other words, this is the culmination of a lot of Blupjeans feelings I couldn’t not write about any longer

*

It — it feels wrong to say I’ll miss you, but —

No, I get it. It’s gonna be so fucking weird, and I — I know it won’t last forever —

Okay, I — I can’t do it like this. Not if we make it sad. Lup, I love you so much, you know you’re the light of my life and undeath…

Of course, babe.

…and I’ll see you soon.

The world Barry wakes up in is tinted green, obscuring everything besides a few ill-defined silhouettes. His limbs are numb at first, but as… red sparks? run down his arms, the feeling returns as a strange sort of weightless sensation, like he’s floating beneath the surface of a lake.

A few bubbles escape from his nose, and oh shit, he really is submerged in something. Before he can even wonder which way is up, his hand grazes something that immediately tears away — and with it drains out the mystery green liquid, which he’s just going to pretend is water. He staggers onto the floor of a cave, blinking rapidly as he adjusts to the light. It’s definitely a cave; he can feel the cool air on his skin and the bare rock beneath his feet — so why is it so bright?

The answer arrives in the form of a voice, whose owner becomes a little more visible to him with each blink of his eyes.

“Care for a towel? Actually, I’m giving you one whether you want it or not, ‘cause if you die of hypothermic shock after everything we’ve gone through to get here, that’s just gonna be awkward.”

She’s beautiful, he knows before he can truly see evidence of the fact. There’s so much care in her voice that her joke can’t disguise, and the towel she slings over Barry’s shoulders is warm, but not as warm as her hands. This feels like the correct moment to freak out over being, as far as Barry can tell, completely buck naked aside from the generous towel gift — but instead, his attention is captivated by his companion, who in complete contrast to himself, seems to be more clothes than body as she comes into focus.

It doesn’t feel right to say she’s wearing her red robe — it’s more like she embodies it, as it moves subtly to indicate her posture, her emotions, rather than to conceal them. What little of her that isn’t a robe is ablaze, but not violently — if Barry only had one word to describe her, he would simply say warm.

Her eyes are negative space amidst the flames, darkness where one would expect unbridled light, but there’s nothing sinister about them — more of a fascination, if anything, evident as she locks her gaze with Barry’s.

He’s been staring, hasn’t he? And she’s been staring at him.

He expects the sheer embarrassment of this whole situation to catch up to him any second, but it just doesn’t hit him. There’s nothing uncomfortable about sharing the room with her.

“Hi,” he says, giving a little wave. “I don’t know how I got here, but… I like your robe.”

She bursts into laughter, illuminating the cave in an ever-changing pattern of red, orange, and pink — and Barry can’t help but wonder if there are a few tears in the mix too, given how hard it is to tell on a face made out of fire.

“Oh, babe. Oh, Barry. Of course you would.” She brings a spectral finger to Barry’s face, evaporating a droplet of water with a single touch, but the warmth that rushes to Barry’s cheeks has nothing to do with the temperature of her hands, only her touch itself. “Sit tight for a second, babe. I’m gonna grab something you’ll like.”

Babe? He’s paralyzed for a few seconds, the word echoing in his head as she floats across the room, sifting through piles of scrolls, jeans, and miscellaneous other items that couldn’t be further from naturally occurring in caves. Does she know me? Does she like me?

He’s finished drying himself off by the time she returns, holding a second red robe — and a corporeal one, no less. She drapes it over Barry’s shoulders, and he slips his arms into the sleeves without thinking twice.

It’s cozy, but something about looking down at himself wearing it brings a fuzziness to his mind that’s not nearly as comfortable as the fuzziness of the fabric. He focuses his gaze on the ghostly woman instead — who makes his mind turn to static in her own right, but in a way that’s more than balanced out by the joy of just looking at her.

“See, we both look good in red,” she says with a wink, and Barry feels the temperature of his face rise another degree or two. He’ll wind up on fire like she is, at this rate. “You’ll want to sit down. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. Um, I think… I might be just a tiny bit amnesiac? Like, just a little. ‘Cause I know who I am, but you sound like you know me, and I don’t know you.”

He takes a deep breath, and decides there’s no harm in admitting what she’s surely already noticed. He’s been too confused to try and be subtle. “Also, I definitely just fell in love with you a couple orders of magnitude faster than I thought I’d ever fall in love with anyone, so that’s, uh… cool, but weird?”

The lower half of her face brushes his forehead — not quite solid, but not unpleasant — and he realizes just as soon as it’s over that it must’ve been a ghostly kiss.

“We were gonna ease you into the ‘us being in love and you losing your memories’ thing,” she tells him with a chuckle, and Barry’s too giddy to even wonder what she means by we. “Lay out the groundwork first. We should’ve known better.”

“My bad?” Barry blurts out, and that makes her laugh even harder, until embers are dripping from her eyes like glistening teardrops.

“Oh my god. This must — this must be so much for you, babe, so much to take in. How are you doing it? How are you — taking this so in-stride, and still sounding so much like you, I mean?”

“I mean… I wouldn’t know,” Barry admits. It is so much to take in, and he knows that if he’d woken up here all alone, with no idea how he’d arrived, then he’d be a mess by now — and not the hopeless romantic kind. As it is, he’s holding it together, trying not to think about his headache and taking comfort in the more pleasant of realizations — but he’s still adrift and disoriented, clinging to a figure he can’t remember his reason for trusting. “It — it doesn’t quite feel real, to be honest? Like, I — I believe you, I believe that I loved you — but it’s the forgetting that gets me…”

He can see himself falling in love, but he can’t see himself falling in this kind of love quickly. This soaring feeling in his heart could only be propelled by years of incremental intimacy, years that he can remember none of, years that don’t exist according to the static roaring inside his head. “How could I forget all this?”

She hugs him in a way unlike any hug he can remember, overlapping with the space he occupies until he’s engulfed in gentle flames, and the threads of her robe feel like they’re what’s doing the hugging, having reformed and rewoven themselves around his arms. Not knowing how else to embrace her back, Barry wraps his arms around his own chest, and feels her presence grow warmer still.

He can just barely wrap his mind around the thought that the warmth coming from his own chest might be borne of subconscious familiarity.

“You still have a big obvious head-over-heels crush on me, don’tcha?” she teases, her laughter surrounding him. “Nothing can make you forget that.”

“Yeah, every version of me’s a hopeless romantic. We’ve got that,” Barry admits. “But I — I don’t even remember your name —”

He would know it if he heard it, he’s sure; it’s so close to the tip of his tongue that he’d probably blurt it out instinctively, if only he didn’t always think so hard about his words before saying them. It’s so tantalizingly close, and he wants to know it again, to say it again, more than any other favor the universe could grant him, and doesn’t the universe owe him at least this much —

“Well, I know how to fix that.” She withdraws from the hug, remaining at his side. “And I think it’ll help if you hear it from yourself — if you hear all the truth we can give you, that is.”

She extends a hand, and a simple golden coin flies across the room to land in her palm. It’s embossed with a vaguely familiar rune that Barry can’t translate, but his mind really starts to reel when she places the coin in his hand, and he hears his own voice emanate from it:

Your name is Barry Bluejeans. You are afraid of the dark. Your very favorite thing in the world is swimming in very cold water on a very hot day, but you cannot remember who taught you to swim, or why you’re always so much more scared of the dark at the end of the year.

The beautiful undead woman next to you is named Lup, and as much as it pains you to realize, you have forgotten her, too. There are fundamental truths about the world, about your loved ones, and about yourself that you have been blocked from comprehending — you’ve had more stolen from you than you realize, and there are very few ways to undo it.

Barry, I’m you just moments ago, and I’m about to forget so much. But right now, I remember, and Lup can help you remember too.

Another voice joins the recording — Lup herself, who sounds just slightly different than she has today, just a little less burdened.

If you haven’t guessed from how this nerd talks about me — Her words are punctuated by an affectionate grumble from Barry — we’ve been dating longer than you can imagine. I wish we could just —

You also can’t remember that Lup’s as much of a nerd as you are, Barry, his past self interrupts. You met because you were both nerds.

Oh, come on, you’ll still be smart enough to figure that one out by yourself! But like I was saying, we had a hell of an epic love story I wish we could just tell you — but you wouldn’t be able to understand much of it, and you’d get a headache trying.

So, Barry adds, we thought about what would be the next best thing. And I think we got a pretty good idea.

A classical music piece fades in, beginning with a piano but quickly adding a violin. Barry can’t put a title or a context to the tune, but he recognizes it from the first note and starts tearing up by the third. His fingers tap out a pattern in sync with the piano part before he even realizes they’re doing it, and when he closes his eyes to let the music wash over him, he realizes that the Lup of the present, the Lup at his side, is almost imperceptibly humming along with the violin.

“You’ll remember this again,” she promises, choking up, when the tune eventually fades. “One day.”

Already, the music has stirred ghosts of memories, fleeting emotions, that Barry can almost imagine in context — quiet moments, private conversations that no one could rip away from him because no one else but Lup ever knew they’d happened — and that day feels close, reassuringly so.

Like him falling for Lup again, it feels like an inevitability.

[asherlockstudy]

Uncomfortable close-up to their Valentine Newlywed answers

Since Rhett was a tad reluctant to compliment Link sincerely I decided to use my psychoanalytical skills (anyway whatever) and seek the underlying honest answers they wanted to give. This could be a bit much at times and perhaps you shouldn't read if you are not a Rhink shipper, that's why I used a cut.

"What he loves about me" Link's expression is a little confusing - maybe an attempt at doubt or self-deprecation but it looks to me more like the embarrassment of the blushing bride.

"I love your..."

Who wants to bet that the first thing that came to Rhett's mind was ass but then he changed it to the first word that came to his mind after ass? A-ccent. Like, there's just no case accent was the first thing he thought because Link's accent isn't even that strong at this point. When Link got surprised at that, Rhett simply replied that he was trying to find something funny. But even so, like I said earlier, Rhett does love Link's accent. I am sure he is fond of it, he finds it adorable. And let's not forget he said "there was so much he could choose from"!

Link looks disappointed that it's not his guess, his eyes. An interesting thing here is that although he used a personality trait for Rhett, he expected / hoped for this physical trait for himself. But don't feel sorry - Rhett has talked about his baby blues and has even gone to the ridiculous extents of planning to make a blog exclusively for Link's eyes. So don't worry; it is known that Rhett at least acknowledges the beauty of Link's eyes. At least. And Link was expecting this from a place of knowledge and not as an attempt to be silly-sappy.

Things Rhett thinks Link loves about him:

voice (Link will later say he loves his laugh and this is close, he's also enchanted every time Rhett sings so...)

height (Link once said he is attracted to "people of extreme heights")

hair (we know that)

beard (lie detector test)

giving spirit (lol totally)

creativity (they've talked about this many times)

eyebrows (if Link has said he likes Rhett's eyelashes then liking his eyebrows is certain)

Rhett was guessing from a place of knowledge too.

Rhett then said he loves stories of Link's grandma doing weird things with him and I don't like being the weirdo to spell out the weird thing but Rhett's interest in that is vaguely associated to his weird mind being always in the gutter. I don't mean it turns him on of course but he loves hearing weird stuff that border on creepy. You know it's true. Sometimes he's like that. Link took revenge for the accent joke with the psoriasis.

Wow we saw some Rhett teeth. Link answered sincerely with a super cute "I love your laugh" but Rhett just said "I love the sound your mouth makes when you don't chew". Oh well. Link regretted being sincere and Rhett, after some good laughter, defended himself by saying "he (Link) walked himself into it". This makes exactly zero sense and I am wondering whether he meant Link walked himself into it by choosing the vulnerable / sincere way. Or if he just didn't know what he was talking about.

Rhett then asks for the next answer to be complimentary. He then repeats he has strong feelings about Link's accent. Again, I believe this! In a positive light. IDK, I do believe this. Link said he has strong positive feelings for Rhett's car which I found weird like Rhett because I thought it was established Link has the better car of the two. Who knows, maybe he lied about the positive thing. Unless he connects it in his mind with memories / experiences.

Link's guess a little later:

Link: If I wanted to, I could easily... start over.

Rhett: Start over?! Like, whole life?

L: ...Yeah, just like, get a re-do.

R: Huh.

L: And I would be like "Really? How?"

R: Mmkay. I said "If you wanted to, you could easily kill me".

Okay, this gets a little deeper. I think what initially Link meant was a joke about starting over regarding his relationship with Rhett. Rhett didn't get that and asked him if he meant his whole life. Link considered that "mmyeah..." and realised it wasn't that far off from what he meant, all jokes aside. Link does wish he could start over and redo many things in his life. This surely has A LOT to do with their religious upbringing. And maybe how it affected Link's choices. Stevie's laughter is so out of place sometimes. Rhett does not laugh and tries to rush this moment. Rhett's answer about Link killing him is not exactly weird or offensive or mean as I saw some people consider it. It shows, maybe subconsiously, several things; Link's intensity, Rhett's pliable nature especially to Link and it might be more indicative of how Rhett feels about Link than anything else, at least in this video.

And then, out of nowhere, or maybe so it seems to us, Rhett goes ballistic against everyone. He starts complaining about those complaining when they didn't give each other heartfelt compliments. Link joked he agrees with them. Rhett attempted to let this slip although it angered him. The crew laughed with Link's joke, meaning they kinda sided with him, and Rhett turned basically mad at Link.

He accused Link that he did the same that day and Link entirely deflected the conversation. All I'm gonna say is that don't think they don't communicate with each other about how they approach certain situations. I wonder if at times they misunderstand each other or one changes opinion suddenly and leaves the other hanging. Link tries to stop Rhett from going on but Rhett is unstoppable at this point.

You might say Rhett was straight out mean right there and I sure was like "whoa where did this all come from, man" but mean is not a reasonable explanation. He was angry and his words show he is in a pressured state. Unless you tend to have mood swings, which Rhett doesn't really have as far as I know, you don't go from all cutesy and mischievous to furious in milliseconds. Except if there is an underlying suppressed cause. And you may ask, okay does he feel pressured to say a compliment to Link? Is this such a big deal? Well, yes and no. I don't think Rhett meant "we're not gonna hold hands" or "compliment each other" when we ask it. I think we know what he means. I think he's talking about the - well, in his words - elephant in the room. The actually serious consideration that there is something more there. The expectation that it might get revealed at any point - whether intentionally or unintentionally. Rhett loses control at that moment, which is why Link, who knows him well, warns him to not go there but Rhett still does. And again, you might say: well, no fan asked them to kiss or to confirm anything! We asked them simple stuff that can be normal between platonic friends too. Yes, but there is something we don't take often into account. The mythical crew. The mythical crew are actually the ones who monitor closely what the fans believe, want and prefer to watch. This means that the crew has to inform and discuss with Rhett and Link how much they are gonna please the audience and in what ways. Which means that a crew of 50+ people have an elaborate opinion on what fans think of Rhett and Link's relationship (next to their own opinion of course) and this has to be communicated with them face to face. In short, Rhett and Link have their privacy invaded not only by the fans but by their employees and, moreover, they are forced to always have fun with it and take it lightly. Again, you could think: well, they could forbid any rhink reference to the crew from now on. And you would think this WOULDN'T make the crew MORE suspicious at this point? All I am saying, they are fine when they make rhink insinuations / jokes voluntarily but most of the time is forced upon them by both the fans and employees and this can be uncomfortable at best if they are just friends or tyrannical if there is something more there that they still keep for themselves. So, Rhett's frustration comes from a deeper place than being expected to give a compliment. If I were in their place as I imagine it (I could always be entirely wrong) I would feel like a muppet trying to balance all my reactions towards thousands of people, with several dozens of them being paid by me to scrutinize me and order me how exactly to act!

There is a cut following Rhett's vent and you can see that Rhett is trying to calm himself down.

He speaks to himself, mumbling "yeah alright yeah ok ok" and by the expressions I can tell he acknowledges he lost control. That doesn't mean he regretted what he said - just that he said more than it benefits him to say and apparently he said a lot more in the unedited video. Kudos then to Link, who actively tries to calm his friend down and make him feel more comfortable.

This might be unpleasant to some but from his stance I conclude that Link agrees with Rhett or at least understands him. He was just wise enough to not say it out loud. Link first warned Rhett to not speak and then stayed quiet as Rhett was venting. After the cut, we see him trying to help Rhett calm down and relax and he characteristically invites Rhett to focus his attention on him and find something he really loves about him. This is not a complaint - Link is smiling and is warm to Rhett. What he essentially does is trying to help Rhett forget he is being watched by thousands and his every word is weighted, which of course is Rhett's main problem. He just says "forget about them and focus on me and just say something you love, it's all good". I just love Link here. He's supportive and caring.

The next question is what Link loves when Rhett blanks his blank and Rhett is trying to picture it-

I have no doubt Link loves that. The ear thumbing, I mean.

So, then I am adding the stills that redeemed Rhett in the fandom:

But not to be that person, it's obvious that Rhett plays it up a ridiculous lot. And not even to appease the angry fans but probably to make fun of their anger. That's why Link laughs with his face and his answer "I love remembering the time we met".

This doesn't interest me at all. Instead, I am much more interested in Link's nonsensical answer "I love remembering the time we died" because what?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Link tends to say occasionally stuff that doesn't make sense but I don't think he would pass on the chance to say something even remotely meaningful in an opportunity like this and especially regarding his relationship with Rhett. Link clarifies: "...when we died. This is heaven". There are two possibilities and only two: a) this makes ZERO sense and it's the worst and most pointless joke ever and b) this is symbolic or something only Rhett could understand. Rhett does not dismiss this as stupid or silly with his usual done look. He asks questions about it and they discuss at length about how it happened that they died and why they went to heaven since it seems they killed each other. Well, it's because they killed each other in the exact same time with a prod-like tool and they escaped Good Ol' God's (in Link's words) notice. Okay. I'm just leaving this here and you can all draw your own conclusions. Personally, I am torn between a symbolical death and rebirth when they left their religious selves behind and death being used as a well known old metaphor of a certain physical state. It would work even more if it was both. Or Link was just talking nonsense. Let's not exclude that. So yeah. That's all I had to say................

[vicegrips-fr]

Into the Black

Azizi divulges his upbringing and the horrors that came with it.

-------------------- I’ve debated sharing this on here because to be completely honest it’s very personal and not for everyone. I’ve decided to open up and share it anyway with the appropriate warnings. It’s no secret that I vent through my own ocs to explore the intense abuse I survived and this is one of those lore posts that delves into that. Hopefully some of you will take the time to read it and if not I completely understand. It’s a long one and difficult to read in many ways I’m sure.

Gustav belongs to my boyfriend @wyvernrising!

Warnings: language, themes of parental abuse, drug/alcohol abuse mentions, and unpleasantness abound.

Pings: @fusefr @kattafr @stimmy-dragons -------------------

They’re together for the night. Himself, Gogo, and the Sub Rosa sent to protect them which includes his boyfriend Gustav. There’s an injury to his hand which isn’t self-inflicted but the product of his past come back to bite him in the ass today. Since then they’ve been sharing their stories to pass the time and ease the tension, getting to know each other better and well, now it’s his turn.

“You don’t have to share,” Gogo peeps up sympathetically, scooting closer so that their thighs are pressed together.

He already knows the truth, knows how hard this will be for Azizi to talk about.

Azizi waves a dismissive hand in the air, happily allowing Gus to take hold of the injured one and press a kiss to the knuckles. Some small part of him does care what they’ll think but it’s drowned out by the stubborn I don’t give a shit what you think of me attitude he’s spent a lot of time cultivating for himself. “We’ll see about that,” he says, pouring himself a glass of wine.

He pauses, bottle in hand as his eyes land on Gustav’s glass. There’s still wine inside but he fills it back up to the top for him anyway. Whether he chooses to drink it or not is irrelevant. Maybe he doesn’t want him to; more wine for him.

Their previous compliments earlier in the night did not fall on deaf ears and bring a smile to his face when he remembers them. “Ha! I am a pleasure to be around, aren’t I?” he chuckles, licking his teeth, “If I were a bore then I wouldn’t be netting as much dick as I am on the daily.”

It’s crude but true. He’s popular for a reason and part of it is his bombastic, nasty personality. Truth is sunshine and rainbows have no place in a brothel, no matter how hard Gogo tries to change that fact.

“But you’re right about what you all said,” he sighs, “It’s an ugly story, just like the rest of you have.”

For a solid few seconds he lapses into silence, picking through the pieces of his life inside his head like dusting off an old photo album. None of the pictures inside are things he wants to see, they’re kept in a box for a reason, after all.

“Where to begin?” he muses to himself, swirling the wine in his glass around, transfixed by the dark red liquid sloshing around the sides.

“Like Gustav and Gogo I was born in Neo Necropolis. The slummy part, obviously. My mother’s name was Tiwa but she went by Candy. If that doesn’t tip you off she was a stripper. A popular one, I was told.”

He stops to sip his drink, the mere mention of his mother’s name enough to elicit that response. Jesus. How long has it been since he said her name out loud?

“My father’s name was Ayoola but everyone called him Ayo,” Azizi continues, the wine burning all the way down his throat, “And his biggest claim to fame was his appetite for men and women. He frequented just about every brothel and strip club in a fifteen mile radius.” Azizi looks up, eyes passing over everyone’s faces in favor of focusing on anything but.

“You can all put two and two together and figure out how my parents met,” he laughs without joy, “They were never married, of course, but they lived together and it wasn’t long before I was born. Not like they were kind of people to use protection, but I sort of wish they had.”

It’s a terribly dark thing to say and painfully true. Plenty of people in a bad situation have the same thought- I wish I was never born!- and he can’t count how many times he cursed the world for being forced into it. “They fought all the time,” he says, recalling the first time he was old enough to understand the words they were yelling.

------------------  

”Get off of your ass and do something for once!” Tiwa screams at the top of her lungs, “I work my ass off on the pole every night and you can’t even get off the couch to get Zizi his breakfast? Pathetic!” It's early. Early enough that the sun is only just coming up, bright light streaming in through the dingy window in his bedroom despite the tall buildings that surround their home. It’s not the first time he’s been woken up this early from his parents fighting. His mama is gone all night, returning every morning and sleeping most of the day away, but not before their daily fight. Tail between his legs Azizi tiptoes quietly to the end of the short hallway, his little hands gripping the corner of the wall as he peeks out from behind it to see what’s going on. ”Oh, I’m pathetic?” Ayoola shouts back, “That’s rich coming from a pole crawler who calls herself Candy! The pipsqueak isn’t even up yet so fuck off to bed already and quit your yapping.” Azizi can’t see them from where he’s standing so he lets go of the wall and steps into the living room, ducking back into the hallway as quietly as possible when he catches a glimpse of his father laid out on the sofa, beer bottle in hand. ”No Ayo YOU fuck off,” Tiwa says loudly from the kitchen, bone tired and her tail lashing behind her in anger. “I’m not dealing with this mess when I’ve been up all fucking night, do you hear me? I’m not your mother, I’m your girlfriend and I need your help. We’re barely getting by, for fuck sake. Just… try to be responsible for once in your miserable life. Please.” ”Jesus fucking christ Candy, get a grip,” Ayoola snorts nonchalantly, rolling over so that his face is pressed into the cushions of the couch, “I’ll do the dishes and get the brat his breakfast, alright? Will that shut you up?” Tears in his eyes, Azizi shuffles off back to his bedroom and curls up on the small mattress laid on the floor of his tiny bedroom, pulling the blanket over his head. The shouting continues but it’s muffled through his hands over his ears and, after a little while, he falls back asleep.

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

“It was really annoying,” he scoffs, “How they’d fight over just about everything. It was like they couldn’t help themselves. No matter how small the affront they would manage to find a way to turn it into something more.”

He’s getting off track. Blinking away the memory like it’s nothing, Azizi drinks deeply from his glass and marches forward. “Anyway,” he mutters, taking another small sip, “I was, hm, about eight or nine years old when my mother up and left. I can’t blame her, really. My father was a bum and an addict who brought other men and women home when she wasn’t around. More than once she walked in on him cheating on her and I guess that plus his allergy to contributing anything to the ‘family’ was enough to put the final nail in the coffin. We all have our breaking point.”

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

”Where’s mama?” Azizi asks, tugging lightly on his father’s pant leg. It’s midday and she hasn’t come home yet. Ayoola is passed out on the couch, his dirty hair sticking up in different directions, spit and booze drying in a crust at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t respond right away. It takes Azizi asking the same question a few times before he’s finally roused awake. ”Huh?” he mumbles, cracking an eye open, “Oh. That.” Ayoola doesn’t seem particularly worried about Tiwa’s absence, just slightly annoyed to have been woken up. ”She left,” he sneers, grunting with effort as he pushes himself up and grabs a crumpled piece of paper that had been wadded up underneath him. “Don’t worry, she’ll come crawling back eventually. Until then how about you go play or something. Daddy is trying to sleep off a cold.”

It would only be a couple more years before Azizi would realize that these frequent ‘colds’ were actually hangovers of varying degrees. A week turns into a month, a few months turn into a year and Tiwa still hasn’t come back. Around the six month mark was when Azizi realized he would never see his mother again. In another three months he would grow angry and resentful, pounding his little fists into the floor because she left him behind. She left him alone with HIM. ”That selfish bitch!” Ayo yells, putting another hole in the wall with his fist, blood seeping from between his fingers, “Leaving me to take care of you by my fucking self! How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?! Tell me how! Where’s the money going to come from?! I’m sinking here! Do you know how many people I owe money to?” Azizi sobs into his hands, tiny body curled up into a ball on the sofa as his father paces back and forth like a caged animal, ranting like a lunatic at the top of his lungs. ”I… I don’t know!” Azizi cries, far too young to understand all of the things his father is saying, “I’m sorry dad! I’m sorry!” -------------------

“After Candy split the house chores fell to me,” Azizi murmurs darkly, setting his drink down to reach for another cigarette instead, “The cooking, cleaning… Him. Ayoola was a full time job. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I had to clean him up after a blackout. Put him on his side and make sure he wouldn’t throw up and drown in his own vomit.”

Azizi pauses, takes a drag from his cigarette and sighs.

“He drank and shot up so much that the floor was littered all over with the aftermath,” Azizi chuckles bitterly, “I’d have to wade through the filth being careful not to stab myself with a used needle, turn him over and check his pulse. Clean the puke off of him with a rag and then pick it all up.”

Gogo sniffles, rubbing his eyes dry on the back of his hand. It’s at this point that he wants to interrupt, to tell Azizi that he doesn’t have to go on if he doesn’t want to. But as if reading his mind, Azizi looks over at him and smiles sadly. 

“It’s okay, Gogo,” he says as soothingly as he can manage, “I’m fine.”

Another pause as he tries to collect his thoughts, memories he wishes didn’t belong to him. “As I got older we started to fight more and more,” Azizi murmurs, “At that point I really had replaced my mother in almost every way.”

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

”Zi! That you?”

”Yeah, it’s me dad,” Azizi replies a little flippantly, “Who the fuck else would it be? One of your booty calls?”

Ayoola snorts with laughter, looking up at him as he walks into the room with bloodshot eyes. ”Have I ever told you that you look like your mother?”

Azizi rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans in the doorway.

”Yeah,” he answers flatly, “Like, fifty times this week.” Ayoola nods sadly, head rolling to the side as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep again. Frowning, Azizi goes to his room.

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

I won’t cry, Azizi thinks, he doesn’t deserve my tears. “Eventually I ran away,” he informs them, unable to bring himself to give them the gorier details of his life, “And I went out with a bang.” Chuckling softly at his own wording, Azizi brings the glass to his lips again. “That makes it sound like I shot him dead,” he hums, “Sadly, I didn’t. We got into a fight, another bad one where he didn’t just use his words to berate me but his fists. I shoved him backwards, he shoved me harder, I slapped him, and he told me to get the fuck out of his house- I happily obliged.”

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

”You!” Ayoola screams, following Azizi around the house as he does his best to get away from him, “Where do you think you’re going?! I’m talking to you! Where the fuck were you?! You knew you had a client coming over! You knew and you went out anyway- hey!” His hand lashes out violently, grabbing Azizi by the arm and yanking him back. ”I’m not playing with you Zi!” Ayoola says, spittle flying and his teeth grinding together as he gets up in Azizi’s face, “You’re in big fucking trouble. If you’re going to live under this roof-” ”I don’t want to live under this roof!” Azizi screams back, slapping Ayoola in the face in an attempt to get him to let go, “I want to be as far away from you as humanly possible! You’re a fucking monster!” Ayoola doesn’t hesitate to backhand him, the force of it throwing Azizi to the floor where he sits shocked and rubbing tenderly at his freshly bruised cheek. ”Then get the fuck out!” he shouts, jabbing a finger in Azizi’s face as he looms over him, “Leave! Just like your mother did! I’ve taken care of us for how long and you’re acting out like this because I ask you to do your part?! All you have to do is put out! Easiest fucking job on the planet!” Azizi stares at him, dead behind the eyes as he’s yanked back up onto his feet and shoved hard against the kitchen wall, a hand around his throat. ”You hearin’ me? Answer me-” Azizi screams, shoving his father back so hard that he trips over his own feet and falls backwards. ”Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” he wails, shoving past Ayoola and out the front door. Ayoola gives chase, pausing in the open doorway to yell after him. ”Then go! Die on the street for all I care!”

He does not follow.

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

“To make an already long story short,” he says, glancing over at Gustav and then quickly averting his eyes, “I spent a long time, years, on the street just like Gogo. I did what I knew how to do best. Eventually I ran into Chaka.”

At the mere mention of his name his blood runs cold, the events of his sad life replaying all over again. He handles it though, shoving it deep deep down inside himself where it belongs. “He took me in off the streets you know. Well, for the most part anyway,” he admits, “There were plenty of times he’d leave me on a corner. To teach me a lesson, he’d say. I mean, I do have a reckless mouth so is that any surprise to you guys?” He laughs humorlessly, eyes finding Gogo’s. “But I met Gogo because of that,” he adds very fondly, “So hey. Silver-linings.” Sighing deeply, Azizi downs the rest of his drink in one go.

“I’ll save the stuff with Chaka for another time,” he murmurs, “If I go into that right now we’ll be here all night. Needless to say I didn’t go down the best path after leaving that hellhole, but if I’m being honest I don’t regret it. Dealing with Chaka’s bullshit was a hell of a lot better than dealing with my old man’s.” Despite his best efforts there’s a wet shine to his eyes now, but the tears don’t fall. Not even when the memories are threatening to choke the air out of his lungs. “So, that’s part one of my story,” he says faux cheerfully, “Now you know I come from trash. Do with it what you will.”

End.

[thefanficmonster]

And My Heart Burned In That Lodge

Michael (Mike) Munroe x Reader (female)

Warnings: Death, Grief, Dealing with loss, Heartbreak, Swearing

Genre: ANGST

Summary: None of them will ever be the same, who knows if they’ll even heal. However, the case is different for Mike. He’s left to be dealing with the guilt, grief and the haunting memory of his friend’s death. He’s angry with himself for all the wrong things he did and all the right things he was too much of a coward to do. Now, his only closure is talking to a gravestone, hoping the wind in the graveyard will pass the message onto the person who the words are meant for.  

Requested by Anon. Wish I could tag them, they have such amazing ideas ❤

PS - Sorry this is hella long, I got carried away LOL

I stand aside, watching as my friends place their flowers on her grave. I can hear their cries. For some odd reason I can’t find it in me to feel sympathy or the need to go over there and be with them. I can’t see how that would do anything but make me feel more miserable. Standing here, seeing this scene unfold in front of me, I can’t help but be reminded of how it all started.

Fuck Mondays, man. Fuck them from the bottom of my heart. Even worse, this is the first week of school after winter break so no one wants to be here. Even even worse, this is the first time I’ll be seeing Emily after out breakup. We broke up over text and while I’m aware that’s the worst way to break up with someone, I must admit it was the only way for a lot of arguing and awkwardness to be avoided. 

It’s the first time I’m coming to school alone in a while. Without Emily, the car was pleasantly quiet aside from the songs on the radio. Not gonna lie, it felt a bit lonely. Being single for the first time in what feels like forever is both liberating and oddly melancholic. I try to push the self-loathing and the depressing thoughts away as my eyes scan the hallway, looking for the group of familiar faces. My gang. We used to be ten people but we lost two girls during our winter getaway at the Washington lodge. Josh’s sisters, Hannah and Beth, went missing and are presumably dead, all cause of a stupid prank Jess, Emily and I concocted, convincing Matt and Ash to go along with it. In retrospect, I don’t know what we were thinking.

‘Seriously, Mike? From one depressing thought to another? Is your brain lacking serotonin today more than usual or what?‘ I mentally scold myself just as I spot two familiar faces - Sam and Ashley. 

It doesn’t take long for me to notice the rest of the gang - Matt, Jess and Chris - all standing near by, surrounding a girl I have never seen before. She sticks out immediately with her long H/C hair and shiny E/C eyes. Jess has her arm linked with the girl, a gesture really out of place for Jess. I mean, her and Emily are pretty close and I’ve never even seen them hug.

“Hey, man. How are you?“ Matt notices me first, lifting his head and smiling at me. His greeting leads the others to look in my direction as well, including the girl. I catch Jess lean down in and whisper something to her. I can’t hear what she’s saying but it clearly aggravates her. I have never received a dirtier look from a girl in my entire life. I usually have the opposite effect on women but I guess there’s a first time for everything. 

“Mike...” Jess steps away from the girl and towards me, “this is my best friend, Y/N. She just got transferred here.” She turns her attention back to the girl, “Y/N, this is Mike.” 

Y/N looks unamused as she outstretches her arm in my direction. “Nice to meet you” is what she says, but her expression clearly tells me she would like to see as little of me as possible. At least she’s polite, right? 

“Likewise.” The handshake is brief and, despite her obvious distaste for me, she still gives me a firm handshake. 

“Wait, you were transferred? I thought Jess said you came here cause you moved.” Sam furrows her brows in confusion. 

“Well, it’s really a chicken and the egg type of situation.” Y/N laughs, rubbing the back of her neck almost nervously, “We moved because I had to transfer.”  Yikes.“ Ashley comments, “Not to pry or anything, but why did you have to be transferred?“

Y/N looks me dead in the eyes, as if she’s sending me a message that I better not overlook, or so help me God I’ll be dead. ”Noses randomly broke when I was around.”

It hurts so much to look back on those times and not pick up on what I was feeling. I foolishly decided that if I can’t give the feelings a name or find them a purpose I should turn a blind eye. I wasn’t that ignorant, I could tell she was the cause, but I could never admit it.

And then there’s the situation with Jess...

“You hurt her, and I’ll kill you.“

I found Y/N by the bleachers and let me tell you, she’s quite the paradox. She’s a straight A, no nonsense, intelligent beyond her years girl. With all these characteristics, you’d think she’d know better than to smoke cigarettes. Wrong! She’s a smoker. Jess can never not complain about the smell of cigarette smoke, it’s a miracle these two get along.

To my ‘hi’ she responded with what looked to be an eyeroll and an annoyed release of smoke through her nostrils. Even though I know I’m not welcome to be in her proximity, I still decide to sit down a little ways away from her, for personal space and all that. Definitely not cause I’m slightly afraid of her. No way.

We just sit in silence until she hits me with the aforementioned threat. I am caught off guard. All I can do is stare straight ahead of me like a deer in headlights. After maybe thirty seconds of absolute confusion I manage to turn my head to look at her. “What are you talking about?” The question is supposed to sound harsh but compared to the way she spit out that death threat it sounded more like a whimper.

“You are such an ignorant asshole.“ She shakes her head, throwing her cigarette on the bench below her. She stomps on it and walks away. I can’t help but stare at her until she’s out of sight. I feel like I’m watching something non-human. A phenomenon you can experience once in a lifetime - if you’re lucky. 

She’s the complete opposite of Jess: grounded, smart, rational. The only time I’ve seen her be so unpleasant is around me. I catch her interactions with the rest of the gang. From afar, she seems like the nicest, friendliest girl. And then she catches a glimpse of me and her mood changes. I don’t know what’s her problem with me but I know it most certainly isn’t something I’ve done to her. She’s been like that since the first moment we were introduced, so either Jess has talked a lot of shit about me or she just hates people named Michael. I may never know.

I had no idea what she meant at the time and only found out three weeks ago. Speaking of three weeks ago, the group once again headed for the Blackwood Pines, trying to hide their uneasiness with make excitement. I was pretty hyped when I heard we were going because that also meant our friend Josh was finally starting to get better. He hadn’t been in a good mindset since his sisters went missing and we were all really worried for him but weren’t allowed to show it because he always insisted he was fine.

He wasn’t. He was as messed up as ever and served as only the prologue to the nightmare of a night we had to live through.

But before all that could happen, the night started off well. Better than expected. The eeriness of the mountain combined with the bad memories we had of the place we still there, we could all feel the tension, but we did a good job masking it with jokes and whatnot. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to go and not only because of what happened the year prior.

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N’s coming too?“ I ask, looking at Josh with wide eyes.

The guy is clearly confused by my overdramatic reaction to him counting down the names of the ones who had already RSVPd ‘Yes’. “Is that a problem or something?”

I sigh, hiding my face in my hands. It’s embarrassing to admit, really. “She doesn’t like me, and that puts it mildly. She hates me.”

He looks even more baffled than before, “Why? What’d you do to her?”

“Nothing, for fuck’s sake. Not a single thing. I haven’t even had a proper interaction with her.“ Talking about this matter exhausts me, mostly cause I can’t even express half the things I’m feeling.

There’s been a time or two I’ve caught her looking at me but her eyes weren’t filled with that distrust I’m used to. She looks away quickly when we make eye contact, as if she can’t put the mean mask on in time and she has to look away to do a system reset. I sometimes catch myself looking at her without realizing. I try to tell myself I do it for the purpose of solving her. 

‘Who are you kidding, Munroe?‘

                                                                  * * *

And here I am, climbing up the mountain to the Washington lodge. I’ve made it a goal to use this getaway to mend things with Y/N. It’s the only way for me to get back to normal. To get my mind back since she’s recently been living in my head rent-free. I’m bullshitting, not just recently. She’s taken over my brain since day one. I can’t place what’s going on with me, I can’t find a term to label it with and I most definitely can’t find a way to stop it. So, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I can’t stop it on my own, she’ll have to do it for me.

Another thing - I’ve never felt nervous or self-conscious around a girl all my life. Never. My friends joke that I’m a ladies’ man and I’d say that’s pretty true. So I have a tough time understanding how I turn into an awkward turtle that’s missing confidence when she’s around.

Once we all get settled in and there’s a fire going, giving the lodge a cozy atmosphere, it’s every man for themselves. Everyone picks a activity they want to occupy themselves with and the living room of the lodge empties out, leaving me there alone.

I scroll stare at the screen of my now useless phone. The thing has no reception and no way of keeping me busy, leaving my attention to wander to the voices that are getting more and more distant as my friends walk out of the room.

I can’t help but overhear Jess say to Y/N, “You haven’t even set your bag down yet and you’re going for a smoke? Jeez, Y/N.”

“You say as though you don’t know me.“ Y/N laughs, the sound of a door opening following after her voice.

It’s such a nice sound, her laugh. I’ve never heard it before. I’ve seen her smile and seen her chuckle at someone’s joke, but it was never actually a laugh. Seems she keeps those for special occasions. 

If she’s in the type of mood to laugh, she’s in the type of mood to be civil with me. Before I can talk myself out of the on-spot decision, I mentally slap myself and get off the couch, walking to the door to the side deck.

“You’ve got this, she’s just a person” 

“Who’s just a person?“ her voice cuts through the silence of the outdoors.

‘SHIT I SAID THAT OUT LOUD‘

I decide to carry this all the way, no shortcuts. No backing out. Somehow, now that she’s standing in front of me - a cigarette between her fingers, her shoulders tense from of the cold - I find it easier to get the words out. She’s just as human as everyone else. The cold causes her to shrivel up. She’s addicted to tobacco. She’s not some riddle I need to solve, just a person I need to talk to in order to understand.

“You.“ I reply, “Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?“

She shakes her head, her shoulders trembling a bit, “It builds the immune system.”

“No, it makes you suffer.“ I shrug my jacket off, cautiously approaching her and wrapping it around her.

Surprisingly, she accepts it with a nod and a murmured ‘thanks’, holding onto it with the hand that’s not holding her cigarette. “Why were you reminding yourself that I’m just a person? Do I not look like one?” She scoffs, facing away from me to look at the snowy hills ahead.

“No, no, not that. You just make me nervous that’s all.“ 

She whirls around, giving me this look as though she has no idea what I’m talking about.

“Really? Why’s that?“ she puts out her cigarette on the wooden railing, focusing all her attention on me.

My hand instinctively goes up to the back of my neck, feeling my face start to heat up. “Well, you’re not really fond of me. And I don’t know why, and....” I trail off, sighing in self-disappointment, “And I wanna know why.”

Her expression turns the complete opposite, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s not about something you have done. It’s about what you might’ve done.”

Despite feeling slightly relieved, I am no less confused than I was a minute ago. “And what is that?”

“Break my best friend’s heart.“ She looks a lot more serious now, “You really had no idea she was head over heels for you just a month ago. You were so oblivious and she was so whipped...“ frustration radiates off of her, “I just didn’t want her to get hurt.“ She closes her eyes, stabilizing herself before finishing her statement, “I didn’t want to hurt her.“

“Wait, what?“

The hurt that paints itself on her face is contagious. I feel it too and I don’t even know what’s causing it. “She always told me about you. Mike this and Mike that. She made you sound like the best guy in the world. And...I really wanted to be let down when I met you, but you were nothing but nice to me and to the other people in the group. But you were also such a jerk from time to time. You are just too...Fucking forget it.” 

In a blink of an eye she puts my jacket over the railing and runs inside the lodge.

“Y/N, wait!“

Needless to say, running after her was the best decision I’ve made. I didn’t get her to admit to anything, but at least we lied down the armor and agreed to give each other some time to get to know one another. Drop aside the assumptions and give a this acquaintanceship the chance to become a friendship. 

Sadly, all good things come to an end way sooner than we want. The rest of that dreadful night I witnessed her transform. When everyone was freaking out, she held them and comforted them. I saw the fear in her eyes but she never let it shine through in her actions. She was the one still holding it together even after she saw that disgusting creature. Her and I were the ones to turn that sanatorium upside down. We were with Josh in the mines. We were the ones to see the Wendigo first. We were by each other’s side the entire time. We had each other’s backs. 

I’ve never felt such a connection with someone. I was experiencing the most intimate understanding with a person in the worst moment of my life. It was bittersweet. The poison mixed with the cure.

Even when she knew her death was approaching, her only reaction was a single tear. A single crystal drop running down her cheek.

We can make a break. We can run right out of this hell hole and turn it to ash, all we need is for this fucking to focus its attention elsewhere. Thankfully Chris, Ash and Emily have made it out already and they’re safe. However, Sam, Y/N and I are trapped. The silent looks we exchange are laced with fear and panic. We have to calculate our next moves down to a millisecond and we don’t even know what those next moves should be.

Suddenly, a sharp pain starts spreading from my hand shoulder. My adrenaline is no longer doing a good job blocking out the pain of the fingers I had to sever. I slip up, letting out a hiss. The pain is just that unbearable.

That thing turn at the speed of light, letting out a screech and heading in my direction. My whole body is tense I couldn’t move if I wanted to but my arm is in such a horribly painful position, I think I’ll faint if I don’t readjust it.

“HEY!“ The voice comes from opposite me and my heart drops.

Sam’s next to me. It’s not her. It’s Y/N. 

The Wendigo loses interest in me as soon as it hears her yell turning and heading straight for her. It all starts sinking in. Now that it’s facing away, Sam and I can make it out. But she can’t. It’s over for her. There’s no way she’s leaving this lodge.

I catch her eyes from across the room. Her posture says a fighter, but her eyes scream ‘petrified’. She knows it too. She knows it’s game over. A single tear rolls down her cheek, shattering my heart.

That’s the last vulnerable moment, however. She turns her head, deciding to go out without showing a glint of fear to that piece of shit. I don’t have to look at Sam or tell her what to do. We’re both aware that we’re about to make it out, losing Y/N in the process.

It happens in a split second. Y/N spits at the Wendigo and then next thing I see is her laying on the ground in a pool of blood. 

The dash out of the lodge is a blur. The last thing I remember is sitting outside of the burning building, staring at the flames. The lodge wasn’t the only thing burning. Years of memories; history; wendigos; and my heart burnt in that lodge.

I see the group leave the graveyard. I struggle to move forward, my limbs heavy. I feel gravity is a lot stronger all of a sudden. 

I didn’t go to the final goodbye. I knew it wasn’t her. There was nothing left of her to bury. Sam told me they buried things that reminded people of her and objects she cherished. 

Well it’s time I give my goodbye.

I shrug my jacket off - the same jacket from that night - and put it around the gravestone like I put it over her shoulders. There’s a box of the cigarettes she smoked in the inner pocket.

“I hope you felt what I felt, Y/N. I hope I didn’t have to say it for you to notice it. I wish I knew...cause now it’ll haunt me for the rest of my life.” I can’t stop the tears, I’m too weak and I’ve been holding them back for far too long. “I’ve never believed in an afterlife. But I really hope there is one, just so we can meet again.” I scoff, shaking my head, “Who am I kidding, I’m probably going to hell.”

I believe that’s where I deserve to go, anyway. I’m the reason she died. And I will never let myself live that down. I will never forgive myself. A flame like no other burnt out so mine could keep burning.   I will make sure it haunts me till the day I leave this world behind.

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.4

Learning to Breathe

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)   x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 2600

Summary: You must get on the road so things finally start moving. One little thing tho - you really need some clothes of your own. ...yay?

Warnings: swearing, amnesia, Dean being Dean being themselves

The briefest guide to SPN characters of Team Free Will (at the end of the post)

Story masterlist

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You grew tired of staring at the screen after a while. There was so much information to look up, but you didn’t even know what you should be looking for. You had to mentally confirm Dean’s earlier words – brains were weird, like really freaking weird. You couldn’t remember your favourite drink or food or the reality of soulmates. On the other hand, you knew how to operate a tablet and what the Internet was. The names Natasha and Ryan popped up in your mind with no obvious reason, Rogers downright striking something in you.  

You wondered if any of those had to do something with your soulmate; your mind always ended up with him (and you were ninety percent sure they were a ‘he’), still fascinating you.

You shut the tablet down and eyed the couch. You knew you weren’t tired enough to fall asleep, your brain was too frantic for that, not to mention you had been sleeping (read dead, apparently), so you had your fill, but you didn’t have too many options. Your feet itched to take a walk, but you resisted – Sam had been right, you couldn’t just walk, less so in the middle of a night. The alarm on a nightstand read 4 a.m. You had no clue when Sam and Dean were usually getting up.

You didn’t know the men and their behaviour was puzzling you. They seemed to have never met you before, yet they were inclined to help you – with no outlook for a reward. God only knew why they were doing what they were and maybe quite literally the God. Castiel claimed to an angel after all. They had spoken of monsters. Who the hell were these guys?

It was hard to doubt their words – with little knowledge and unreliable sources on the internet, there was neither confirming nor denying their words. Then again, seeing Castiel just vanish into a thin air was pretty convincing.

You felt a headache starting to build up and decided to lie down on the couch at least, not even daring to hope for getting a shut-eye.

You were out in no time.

Gentle voice of a man you couldn’t remember guided you into the dreamland while whispering senseless words; there was one though that struck something deep inside you, making you jolt awake with a gasp and a faint pleasant taste on your lips.

“Doll…” the soft sigh followed you to full consciousness, echoing in your ears, tingling your spine.

“Morning, Natasha,” a different male voice greeted you and you yelped, spinning its direction, memories of yesterday events flooding your brain.

The tall long-haired man standing in the bathroom door was Sam and the man sitting on the bed, looking like he just woke up, short hair sticking in every direction and expression utterly confused, was Dean.

“S-sam,” you stuttered, your mind elsewhere.

Doll. Doll.

It definitely sounded like an endearment. A pet-name. The man’s voice was laced with emotions, gentle and warm, powerful and tender. You knew him. You must have known him, his name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to roll off and yet no sound came out when your lips parted. You blinked several times, chasing your dream, unable to add neither a name nor a face to the voice.

Your chest tightened, making it hard for you to breathe in, an inexplicable fear squeezing your lungs, sudden tears gathering in your eyes.

“Natasha?” Sam’s voice sounded from distance, strangely muffled. “Natasha? What’s wrong? Can you hear me?”

Your eyes automatically snapped up when a gentle hand appeared on your shoulder; Sam’s face was blurry, making you blink the salt droplets away.

Then, as if someone snapped their fingers, the suffocating feeling vanished and you welcomed the change with a fierce inhale.

“Natasha?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you panted. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Sorry to scare you first thing in the morning,” you tried to smile at him, probably failing.

He gave your shoulder a hesitant squeeze, his green-brown eyes mirroring concern. He exchanged a glance with Dean, who seemed way more awake than a minute ago.

“You good, kid?” he threw at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

Kid? Fire Princess? Sweetcheeks? What would come next? The ‘doll’ one? You hoped not.

Funnily enough, the addressing brought you back to reality better than anything else, your mind set straight; well, as much as it could be when you still didn’t know your own name.

Dean behaviour towards you was different than Sam’s and you couldn’t tell whether you liked better or not – it was just… different. And it ignited a spark inside you.

“I’m good, dad,” you hummed back, raising one corner of your lips, this time succeeding.

“Looks like she’s alright,” Dean smirked at Sam and the taller man rolled his eyes.

“It was just… a strange dream. It was probably nothing,” you explained, which caused Sam to finally release you. You found yourself missing the soothing weight of his hand and wondered what it said about you.

“Okay. We should get something to eat and get on the road. Dean?”

“Food. Coffee. Then think,” the man explained, making you chuckle. You stomach growled in agreement, blood rushing to your cheeks at that.

“Sounds good.”

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Running the facial recognition brought no results, much to Sam and Dean’s annoyance. It was ‘all quiet at Castiel’s front’, which was a statement you didn’t quite understand, but you assumed the expression was a private joke.

In other words, you had no clue who you were besides your soulmarks, the made-up name and a pleasant male voice following you from your dreams – not that you shared that with either of the brothers.

The name on the other hand….

“Uhm…” you started intelligently, as Dean and Sam were finishing their coffee (and yours, because you found out that coffee was not quite your thing), catching their attention. “I looked up some names common in the US and… uhm, Rogers-“

“Okay. That’s cool. Common enough, not too obvious like Smith. Good choice, Nat.” Dean glanced at you briefly. “You don’t mind being called Nat, right? ‘Cause I will call you that, it’s shorter.”

You blinked, confused. Huh? What did Dean mean? “Good choice…?”

“Well, yeah. We need to make you an ID. We should be heading to the bunker…” Dean mumbled absently, staring into the cup as if he wished there was more of that disgusting liquid.

“ID? Like… a fake one? You can do that?!”

They could make a fake ID? Seriously, who were they? Was Dean and Sam even their real names? You tried not to panic, because they had been nothing but kind to you, seemingly genuine and honest, but… but.

“You need to have one. We could just drop you at a police station and call it a day, but we think it’s better if you stay with us. For that, you need an ID,” Sam hurried to explain and you honestly didn’t know how to react.

You didn’t like the idea of lying about your identity to anyone, then again, you couldn’t remember your actual identity and apparently had been brought back from the death, so you were out of options so to speak.

“Okay,” you sighed, ignoring the unpleasant knot in your stomach. “You talked about… a bunker?”

Which didn’t sound ominous at all. Or creepy. Nope.

What did they do for living again?

“Yeah. It’s our base of operations.”

“For?” you urged Sam, your shoulders tense. Here it came; the fearsome reveal of the truth. Sam sighed and eyed you warily, as if agreeing with your unspoken thoughts.

“This is gonna sound crazy… but the unhuman things we talked about? We hunt them. We are finding strange crimes all over the country and go there to investigate them, finding the ‘cause’, which usually is some kind of a… monster….”

“And you kill the monster,” you finished breathlessly, feeling your heart jump to your throat.

Wow. Wow. You had no idea what to say to that announcement. There was no doubt Sam wasn’t lying. Why would he even make up such thing? They were killing monsters… things that were hurting people. It was unimaginable, incredible and impossible to wrap your head around, but strangely, it kinda…. made sense.

It only meant one thing.

“So… you’re heroes,” you exclaimed breathlessly, astounded.

The brothers stared at you blankly, frozen at your words.

What? What did you say wrong? They couldn’t be offended at that, right?

Dean chuckled and patted your shoulder. “Thanks, kid. I wish more people saw it this way…”

“Oh,” you paused, your mind racing. Right. They were able to make fake IDs. They probably didn’t have the jurisdiction to do what they did. And they were probably impersonating police officers of something like that to ‘investigate’, which meant they were technically outlaws. The revelation should give you creeps… but somehow, it didn’t. Knowing the truth actually calmed your nerves.  It probably had everything to do with the fact that knowing anything at all was better that knowing nothing – which seemed to be the standard for you now. “Right. Your lives must be peachy. Thanks for having me nevertheless.”

Now you most definitely broke them, didn’t you? They looked like you broke them. Dean’s expression was wary as he stared at you blankly and you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“That’s it?” he asked, his green eyes looking like seeing the bottom of your soul. Ha! Was that a thing? Could he see your soulmate there?

Never mind…

“Uhm… yeah?”

Dean turned to Sam who was watching you with equally weirded out expression on his face and met Dean’s gaze as the shorter brother spoke up again.

“I love her.”

Your eyebrows shot up at that, but you recognized he wasn’t exactly confessing his undying love to you. Yet, you couldn’t deny that both brothers seemed happy about your reaction. It was strange, but all of what they were apparently doing, the way they lived… it didn’t feel that unreal.

For all you didn’t remember about your life and the world in general, you couldn’t help a distant feeling that there was a certain level of insane you should be used to.

Momentarily, you were grateful for that, because otherwise accepting all of this madness might actually cause you to fold like a house of cards. Instead, you just shrugged when Sam looked at you, relieved.

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Breakfast absolutely was the most important meal of the day for Sam and Dean. You spent almost an hour with it, but you couldn’t complain – they fed you, they clothed you (though the way they did was beginning to be a problem, people stared and you didn’t really feel comfortable wearing that), they were patient with you not knowing shit… . You didn’t want to be too much of a burden to them; there wasn’t much you could pay them back with. At least not yet.

You were in the town of Clayton in Ohio. You somehow understood that it was in the United States, you knew there was such thing, but you were glad to have it shown in a map – not that it told you much. The names of towns and cities didn’t remind you of anything. Nothing seemed familiar.

It sucked.

Apparently, the famous bunker Dean had mentioned was in Lebanon, Kansas, which was about a 13-hour drive. You were horrified, but once again kept your mouth shut, knowing very well that you had no right to say a word besides ‘thanks’.

You obediently climbed on a backseat of a fancy black car, not forgetting to compliment it instinctively. Dean flashed you a pleased grin, patting his ‘Baby’ on the roof before taking the wheel.

Funnily enough, he pulled over after what could be five minutes, earning himself your puzzled gaze. Huh? Sam seemed equally confused until he looked outside, nodding and catching your eye in the rear-view mirror.

“So, Natasha… ready to do some shopping?”

You weren’t; apparently, Dean wasn’t either, because he excused himself, taking a beeline with the car to get gas and left you alone with slightly uncomfortable Sam.

“I… I promise that when you manage to… help me get on my feet anyhow, I’ll pay you back,” you said quietly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip.

Sam quickly fixed his expression, his face inviting once more. It made you feel worse. He was suffering just like his finances… wait, how did they get finances? People didn’t pay them for what they were doing, were they?

“Don’t worry about that. I’m just wondering if I’m the right person to help you with shopping.”

You chuckled at that, imagining Sam carrying tens of shopping bags.

“I won’t need much, Sam. In fact, I wouldn’t need anything really-“

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head, his long hair swaying around his head. It was cute. “You need your own clothes. Dean’s too big and… his wardrobe is not exactly for women.”

“Well, I probably should merge with the crowd, right? And you’re the only crowd I know, so…” You looked around the shop, a slow smile spreading on your face when you found what you were looking for. You held up a female plaid shirt, clearly surprising Sam if his confused expression was anything to go by. “What do you think?”

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Shopping wasn’t terrible; you only picked necessities, blushing like a tomato (did you like tomatoes?) when you headed to certain department Sam didn’t dare to follow you to. You didn’t bother with cosmetics – you could use theirs and as far as you were concerned, you didn’t need the particular set of supplies for women just yet.

It took you only half an hour, Dean already waiting in front of the shop in his Chevrolet, lightly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in a catchy tune. He grinned a boyish smile when he saw you, not at all bothered by your presence and continued enjoying the music from the radio. He was downright adorable.

Two men built like rocks who hunted monsters for living and you both found them cute within an hour. They were incredible goofballs. You loved it.

“Look at you, all in plaid and yet looking like a woman,” he hummed and your cheeks coloured in intense red.

“Dean, shut up,” Sam scolded him, eyebrows furrowing as he circled the car and took the shotgun seat.

“What?” Dean complained, turning his palms up. “That was a compliment.”

“It was accepted,” you assured him and smiled at both him and Sam, which caused the driver gesture towards you as if he was saying ‘see?’ to Sam – he only rolled his eyes in response.

“You don’t mind music, do you?”

“Not at all,” you replied to Dean, not even considering a different answer. Even if had been annoyed at it, you sure as hell wouldn’t say.

“I might actually love you, Nat,” Dean threw over his shoulder, staring the engine. “Oh and we’re not heading to the bunker. I found us a case-“

A case? As in… a monster case?!

“We already have a case!”

“It’s witches, Sammy. I couldn’t ignore that.”

You caught Sam’s expression in the rear-view mirror, his nose scrunched in disgust, which spiked your interest despite the worries twisting your gut.

“Oh God, I hate those.”

“As do I, Sammy, as do I,” Dean agreed grimly. “It’s in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Oh and Garth agreed to make Nat an ID and deliver it to Bedford, which is on our way.”

Your lips parted in silent shock. What? That fast? Who was Garth? Also… just how much Dean managed to do while Sam was playing your walking wallet?

“Good. Thanks for taking care of that.”

“Thanks,” you echoed Sam’s words, too taken aback to speak out loud. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Sure thing, Nat. Sure thing. Now let’s get this show on the road.”

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Part 5

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Heya, lovlies!

I’m not posting another chapter for at least a week, because life, but I hope tha wait will be worth it. We’re gonna take a step back and see how Steve has been doing and how spy!Natasha is onto something. Thank you for reading!

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Tags: @cxptain​​​ @smilexcaptainx​​​ , @murdermornings​​​ @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater , @polarcrystall​​​ @eliza5616​​​ @rayofdawnworld @victor-criss-bish​​​ @skychild29​​​  @elysianecho​​​ @simmisblog​​​ @scentedsongrebel​​​ @orions-nebula​​​, @sergeantrosabellaswan​​​ @songofcosplay​​​, @ilovesupersoldiers​​​ @wxstedhexrt​​​ @silver-winter-wolf​​​ @guardian-tn @janieavalos  @vxidnik​​​, @patzammit​​​ , @annathesillyfriend​​​ @maravderofthephoenix​​​

Anyone wants in or out, shoot me a message or an ask :)) It’s (usually) no problem ;)

[godlyborn]

starting over. / ellie & ben.

date: june 21, 2021 summary: ellie and ben talk

Ellie knocked on the door to Ben's apartment, hoping that he wasn't busy. Ellie had been doing better, not the best, but definitely better the last few months. The biggest thing that was on her mind now was what went down with her and Ben the night they broke up. Ellie felt sick to her stomach just thinking about it, and she knew she needed to apologize, actually apologize. She remembers vaguely something about it after a day of drinking, but to Ellie, whatever that apology was, it didn't count. When the door opened, Ellie smiled slightly, as if that was to say sorry for showing up unannounced. "Hey, uh, have time to talk?" she asked.

The door almost closed in Ellie’s face, but Ben caught it and stepped a little closer. He let the wood rest against his shoulder and shoved his hands into his pockets. She wasn’t the absolute last person he expected to see, but she was close. And the question made him more than a little nervous. Talk about what? The run-in with Patrick from days before flashed through his head. “Um...” Ben glanced down when he heard a small beep at his feet. “Yeah,” he finally answered. He crouched down to pick up his cat, then pushed the door open even more with his back. “Do you... want to come in?”

Ellie stood there for a moment. She was nervous, why was she so nervous? Her mouth felt dry, she debated on whether she was actually ready for this. She needed to do this, he deserved this. "Do you want me to come in?"

Ben laughed a little and nodded. He decided she probably wasn't here because of her brother. But that meant she was here for something else, something he couldn't guess, so his stomach didn't unknot. “Yes, definitely, you can come in. I didn’t mean to sound like you were holding me at gunpoint or something,” he said, smiling at her. “I was just... surprised to see you.”

"Yeah, uh, sorry I just showed up," Ellie said. "I just would've chickened out if I planned any of this out, honestly."

That was alarming, and Ben focused his gaze on the cat in his arms in order to control his expression. “Fair,” he said weakly. “It’s okay, I’m just hanging out today. And Jacob is out so we can stay in the living room.” As opposed to what, going to his bedroom? Ben scolded himself silently for even implying it. She looked nervous enough. “Do you want water? Oh, and this is Frank.” Ben lifted his arms slightly, eliciting a small mew from the cat. “I don’t think you met.”

Ellie nodded slightly at his cat's direction. She twisted her fingers around themselves. "No, I'm uh, I'm okay," she replied. "I just, I wanted to kind of talk about our breakup and everything, when I'm sober."

“Oh.” Ben walked further into the living room and let Frank drop into the armchair, then leaned against it. He left the couch for Ellie, giving her space if she wanted it. “Okay. Sure.”

Ellie took a seat on the edge of the couch, unsettled slightly. "That night, it was a mess, to say the least," she said. "I wasn't doing well, I didn't do well for a long time, and I kind of put me over the edge. How I treated you thought, it's not an excuse, and I really am sorry about it, Ben. It shouldn't have happened."

Ben wished Ellie had said yes to water so he could have gotten one himself, and have something to do with his hands. Lacking anything to hold on to, they pressed into his jeans, rubbing small circles into his thighs. "I, um..." He worked his jaw and nodded again. "Yeah. I..." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Sorry. I understand what you're trying to do. But it feels wrong to accept an apology when I— when I caused all that hurt."

Ellie frowned, this is what she feared. She wished sometimes that Ben had felt he deserved more than everything he was dealt. "Ben, I..." Ellie started, trying to find the right words. "No," she stated. "You did a shitty thing, a really shitty thing, and I didn't deserve. I wish you hadn't. That doesn't mean that you deserved what happened. No matter what you did, no one should hit you." It was like she was a different person when that happened. Parts of her didn't feel like it was her that hit Ben, but it was. "Don't ever believe that you deserved to be hit Ben, because you don't.”

"I—" Ben blinked a few times and looked away from her. Something heavy settled in his chest. "I know that, El," he said quietly, his voice going distant. "I just meant— I wasn't trying to say that I deserved it. Just..." He rubbed his brow, as if he might be able to dislodge his thoughts into something coherent. "Ugh, this is hard to talk about."

Elliot nodded in agreement at his later statement. This was hard. “I’m just saying, that everything that happened during that time, it wasn’t all you. All that pain, it was so much more, it wasn’t just you. Things were happening, that I don’t know where to even start, that I told no one about, not even Caspar, or Chase and Jesse, for a long time. Honestly, what happened to us was kind of the least of everything. I don’t know if that makes you feel better or anything.”

A small smile stretched over Ben's face, but it didn't last as Ellie continued to explain herself. Eventually, he looked back to her and shook his head. "It doesn't." The weight in his chest seemed to get even heavier. "Honestly, it just makes me think that... I was making it worse. I was so... I was dealing with a lot, too, and I handled it like shit. If you can believe it, I thought I was sparing your feelings by going behind your back. Which..." A humorless laugh slipped out of his mouth. "Gods, that was fucking stupid."

Ellie let out a small, awkward laugh with him and shook her head. “It was kind of stupid, not going to lie,” she replied. “I wish you would’ve told me it wasn’t working out. To be honest though, it probably would’ve imploded on my end within the last year, most things were. I could barely look Chase in the eyes for months because I was just so ashamed.” She leaned on her knees, twisting her fingers around each other, looking at her hands for a moment. “My pain, it wasn’t your fault. Maybe if everything didn’t happen, I would’ve handled it better. I just I don’t know, I kind of lost it, and then it was happening and it didn’t even feel like I was the one doing it, it was like I was watching myself do it, y’know?” She sighed and then shrugged, not sure if she was making any sense. “And you asked to talk outside, and I probably should’ve, I just, I didn’t feel safe to go alone somewhere with you because I knew if I had, I would’ve pretended it wasn’t a big deal. In turn, I hurt you, and that was wrong.”

Ben nodded. "That makes sense," he said. "I get it. I wasn't trying to make excuses that night, I just needed to... I wanted to get away from the noise and crowd and... honestly," he cringed, "your brothers. I'm not trying to say that I, I got what was coming or anything, El, but I just... we both fucked up, but I fucked up a lot more." After another pause, he continued, more careful and wary. "Um, can I ask... why you decided to talk about this, um, now?"

Ellie nodded, “I guess that makes sense, I heard what happened between you, Jesse, and Chase,” she replied. She shrugged at the last question. “I’ve been, uh, going to therapy, and I realized we never really talked about it, and never apologized when I was sober, or when I wasn’t going through an insane amount of stuff. I thought you deserved a more sincere apology.”

He cringed again. Of course she knew, he'd be shocked if she didn't know, but the reminder was unpleasant. Ben controlled his expression, though, as Ellie started to explain herself some more. "That's..." He released a breath and gave her a small smile. "I'm really glad you're going to therapy, El. Um—" he stared into the space above her head, thinking carefully before he spoke, then looked at her again. Despite himself, he maintained eye contact, trying to give her just as sincere a reply. "And I appreciate that. I'm glad you're doing better."

"Thanks," she said, considering his last statement. "And like I said before, you totally do not need to forgive me, I just wanted you to know," Ellie said, even though it made her feel weird, feeling like even though she apologized, it didn't make her feel better. It made her feel like she didn't deserve any forgiveness, much like many other things. She was still pretty confused on that part. "I do hope that maybe one day we could be friends?"

Ben shrugged. "It's already forgiven," he said. This still felt wrong, but clearly she was struggling with guilt, and it felt more wrong to let her keep wrestling with it. He knew what it felt like, and she didn't deserve that. "And I hope that, too, El." He took a risk and walked over to her, sitting next to her on the couch. "I— I consider myself really lucky that you want me in your life at all."

Ellie turned to look at him when he took a seat next to her. She smiled slightly at his comment. She didn't quite know why it sent butterflies through her when he looked at her still. "I'm not sure if we'll ever be what we were, I don't know how to really trust you when it comes to that, but I think that I can still trust you as a friend, even with the history."

Okay, he deserved that. The comment stung, but she was right, and he knew that. Ben nodded, glancing down to the space between them on the couch. Muscle memory alone nearly made his hand slide over to find hers, but he stopped it before he could move and give himself away. "I agree. I think we work, uh, better as friends. That..." he chuckled quietly, "sounds cliche, but. I mean it."

Ellie let out a small laugh, wiping her palms on her knees, slightly anxious. “I’m glad,” she said, looking up at him. It was weird but it felt like he was different. She wasn’t sure if it was because of what they both went through this past year, or if somehow he looked like a weight was lifted from him. She hoped that it was the latter, though their bad blood, she still believed that Ben deserved some peace for once in his life. Ellie let out a shaky breath, a small chuckle escaping her lips. Ellie was never able to hide anything from Ben. “Are you okay? You know, with everything? I know that it’s not my place to really worry about you anymore, but I do. I don’t think that part will ever go away.”

Okay was relative. He was doing better, he thought, overall. The past few days had been rough, but Ben didn't really want to bring up that Ellie's brother was giving him nightmares. It felt like it might ruin the moment, or make things worse for him. Still, he wasn't lying when he told her, "I'm doing okay." If this had been a year ago, this might have wrecked him. "I, uh, I'm going to therapy, too. My roommate kinda bullied me into it," he said with another tiny laugh. "It's really helped me, um, make sense of a lot of things."

Ellie nodded slightly at Ben. "I am happy for you Ben, really," she said. She was kind of jealous that his roommate got him going to therapy, when she hoped that for him for years. Ellie thought she didn't push too hard, in fear of pushing him away or looking like a hypocrite. "I'm hope you get the answers that you need out of that."

Ben shrugged and glanced away from her, uncomfortable despite himself. "Me, too," he replied. He leaned back into the couch and made himself look at Ellie, maintain eye contact. "I hope the same for you, too."

Ellie's eyes met his, and she melted. Ellie hated how he could do that to her with one look. She was silent, the room didn't have tension, it was just silent. She cleared her throat. "Uh, I should, uh, go?"

He didn't realize he was staring (a little more than an ex-boyfriend should) until Ellie broke the still, quiet moment between them. A small frown tugged at Ben's mouth. He thought about saying she could stay, but Ben couldn't think of a reason why that wasn't strange or perhaps crossing a boundary. "I— Okay. Sure."

Ellie felt like Ben had something on the tip of his tongue, just by the way he paused and responded. "Unless, you want me to stay," she said. Ellie wasn't entirely sure what to do in this situation.

Ben's chest tightened. "I just, don't want you to feel like you... have to leave?" He sighed and shook his head, trying to play the weirdness off. "But I'll... I guess I should, um, warm up a bit before band practice."

Ellie let out a small laugh, probably not the most appropriate time, but it was ironic. He didn't want her to feel like she had to leave, and here she was thinking he was uncomfortable with her being here. "I just, sorry, I just figured you might be uncomfortable with me here or something," she replied. "I uh," she let out a sigh through her nose. "Let's try to start over, yeah? Uh, do you think it would be okay if I stay and listen to you warm up?"

The way she'd been sitting there, looking like a wound up spring, made him think that she would grab at the first opportunity to leave. This was entirely unexpected. His first worry was— regrettably— what Chase would think. Then Koda, and then, Patrick. He was sure the nightmares would only get more intense if Ellie even mentioned this conversation. As much as he was trying not to worry about it, that gave him the quickest, smallest pause. But it didn't matter, because he was already nodding. "Sure. Yeah, let me, um," he stood, "I'll get my guitar."

[nellaesarts]

Fairy Tail & The Paragande Kingdom - Chapter 3

FIRST CHAPTER | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

At the moment Gray arrived in the bottom of the stairs, Natsu, Lucy, Erza, Wendy and the two Exceed jumped on him.

“Gray ! I’m so happy to see you ! shouted Natsu with excitement in his voice.

– How are you ? asked Lucy.

– I’m hanging in there… Could be better, but heh… he responded with a quiet voice.

– Take your time, said Erza, Don’t force yourself to come here if that’s too hard for you.

– That’s not the case, don’t worry. I feel better, I assure. I still think a lot about her, but… That’ll be fine.

To these words, the team make to him a compassionate smile.

– BY THE WAY ! Did ya know what happened yesterday ?! We saved a girl ! shouted again Natsu, very proud of himself.

– Natsuuuuuuuuuuu Calm doooooooooown, launched Lucy.

– I know, yep. I seen her up there, with her Chosen. By the way, Makarov and Pog will make a speech for the Guild in a few, answered Gray.

– Really ? If that so, let’s take a seat ! said Clara.

– Good idea, Clara !” approved Happy since the group led themselves to a free table.

They just had the time to sit that Makarov appears on the Guild’s stage with Pog. The silence takes  place in a few minutes, and the Master started to speak.

“Good afternoon to all of you. As you certainly all know, yesterday, Natsu and his team bringed here a young woman who was near to the dead and Pog, here. he said while he showed the Chosen. Let me first tell you that Alexandria, the young mage, is out of danger, thanks to the good cares of Porlyusica and Mirajane. he turned himself to them, as the Natsu’s team sighted by relief. I thank you a lot for that, ladies. Now that Alexandria is better, Pog have decided to speak to you and tell you their story. I let him speak, now.”

At these words, Makarov left the stage and gave way to the Chosen. Pog moved forwards and a gentle green light started to bright around him.

“*Good afternoon, Mages of Fairy Tail. First of all, I want to thank warmly all of you about welcoming us here. Alex and I are in debt to you for it.*

As soon as the first words came to the mages’ spirits, a collective shiver shakes the assembly.

*As Makarov said, my name is Pog and the young woman is called Alexandria Delaus. We both came from a Kingdom which is located beyond the seas and about which you certainly never heard anything about : Paragande. Do not be surprised to ignore the existence of this land. There is several months of sailing to reach it from Fiore so, the business trades are really rares.*

To these sentences, some whisperings raised in the room. Why does a mage had to run away from her country ?

*Calm down, calm down, I’ll explain, he continued, tempering the rising agitation. In our country, or to be more precise, on the entire continent where we lived, the magic is not shared as in Earthland. Everybody can not use it, only a few hundreds of people born per year with the capacity to use magic, without any need to learn it. For the remainder of the population, they would never be able to use it. Thereby, the magic is a real delicacy, pretty researched. Our actual King, Vegas, is born without any power or magic sensibility. That’s the first one of his lineage who was born as a not a mage. He saw this situation very badly and, year by year, that go to his head, to become crazy. He convinced himself that he could access to magic if he take it off from the mages of his country. So, he started to hunt them, one by one, taking their magic off until their death, to incorporate it in some weapons or to attempt an injection of it in himself. As we know, Alex is one of the last living mages of the entire country. The few others are hiding in the Kingdom, but the King have tools that his population have not. We know that one day or another, he’ll catch them. He almost did it for us. When he just missed us, we took the decision to climb on the only business boat which was on departure from Felicia, the capital, to Fiore and so, we unload here about two months ago. But there was a thing that we ignored at this time. That is that the King’s trackers were following us very close. They chartered a frigate which have started to follow our boat only a few days after us. So, we know that they are in Fiore and that they're on our trail. There is what I can tell you about our story.*

The little being interrupted himself for a second to probe the hall.

*I wish to thank you again for your reception, but don’t worry, as soon as Alex will be fully recovered, we will leave the Guild immediately. Our trackers are dangerous, we don’t want to put any of you in a sensitive situation.*”

Makarov moved forward on the stage again to take place in Pog’s side. He turned himself to the speak to the Chosen.

“Do not worry about that, Pog. You and Alex can stay here as long as you want or need. The guild will protect you if necessary.

– BUT MASTER ! shouted an unidentified voice in the hall. How can you promise something like that to strangers ?

– THAT’S TRUE ! made another one. And maybe they just lie to us and they are just some fugitives who have things to be ashamed of !

Pog sighted to these comments, then straighten him up.  Suddenly, his whole body seemed to ignite with a bunch of light green flames.

– *Right. I will exceptionally prove to all of you that I am not lying. I shouldn’t do that because of the energy that will cost to me, but it seems that I have no choice. As you have all noticed certainly, I can communicate with you by telepathy. My power permit me to let to the people I communicate with an access to my own mind. You will so see my own memories, directly from my mind. Prepare yourself, that can be rude.*”

And suddenly, a wave of energy swept through the hall and without warnings, all the members of Fairy Tail found themselves immersed in the psyche of the Chosen. They so all could assist of the reality about the Paragande Kingdom, through Pog’s eyes and by experiencing his memories again. The violence of the visions pull some whines off here and there, while in everybody minds, the tragic past of the mage showed up. Pog chose to show them all. To not spare anything. He so share with them the feelings he experienced during all these years. The fear. The anxiety. The hate. The sadness. The rage. He had to convince the mages that he and Alex were not criminals, he has to make them live the horror in which he and Alex grew up.

When the visions stopped finally and as Pog’s mind retracted itself, a heavy silence take place in the hall. Every mage looked like they were deep in thoughts. These visions send them back to the darkest hours of the Guilde. Some were crying, carried away by emotion. And nobody cast doubt on Pog speakings again after that. After a moment during which nobody could talk, Cana was finally the first one to stand and speak.

“Pog, I will never put in doubt your words again, believe me. I don’t want to live that again.

An approbation clamour came from the other mages. The experience had obviously been unpleasant for most of them.

– May I ask you a question ?

The little being nodded his head in approbation.

– What are you, exactly ? What is this magic ?

Pog launched a smile to the assembly.

– *Well, it seems it’s time for me to tell you more about myself. I am what we called in our continent a Chosen. The Chosens are spiritual magic creatures and we are born at the exact same day and hour of a mage, who so become our Linked One. Since then, we are linked by fate and by the magic to this mage. We share nearly the same magic energy, a part of our thoughts and some of our feelings too. The way our life will unfold therefore depends largely on the future of this mage. Nonetheless, even if we are linked, we stay as being in our own right and stay independants. We are born in eggs which come directly from the earth, in the spiritual city Mehag. We are raised by some other chosens who lost their Linked Ones until we are strong enough to protect our mage. For example, I could leave Mehag when I was ten years old and I take one year to find Alex. We are in the other one’s side for only eleven years. *

–But if your fates are linked to your mages, how some Chosen could stay alive despite the disappearance of their Linked Ones ? asked Levy, curiously.

– *Excellent question. That’s because even if our fates are linked, we have our own magic energy, we don’t share it all. If we have still a few of it when our Linked One dies, we can survive. That’s rare and a lot of Chosen prefer to let themselves died in these conditions. Sometimes, some mages renounce to their magic and so, lose their powers. That’s a real heartbreak for the Chosen who lose a part of themselves at this moment and if they don’t turn insane at this moment, they join the Chosen who lost their Linked Ones by death to raise the future Chosens.*

– I see. You are so dependant and independant of your mages in the same time. punctuated the blue-haired mage.

– *That’s it. And to be honest, I believed that we could communicate by telepathy only with our Linked Ones, but when Alex and I arrived in Fiore, we noticed that was not the case : the Chosens can communicate like that with every person who is mastering magic. I so had to learn how to limit my telepathic channels to filter our communications with Alex and so not be catched. However, that’s how I found Lucy, Natsu and their friends.*

– And we are still happy to welcome you here, commented Makarov. To come back about your escape, what afraid both of you so much about your pursuers ?

– *That’s simple. They created some devices which can suck the magic energy up. And these machines are like… Unlimited. They are many and dangerous. In front of people with such weapons, we, magical persons, can not do anything.*

– I see… Well, my friends, the meeting is adjourned, I think Pog spend enough energy today speaking with us. Erza, Laxus, Mirajane and Macao, join me in my office, we will organiz a defensive strategy in case of these strange enemies would attack us.”

To these words, the crowd dispersed. Pog find himself fastly alone, nearly ignored. He wanted to run to Alexandria to stay with her, but he knew that she just needed a bit of rest and that his presence would not help her. He started to wandering in the hall, until his belly started to growl due to the food smells which were hanging around here and there. After a few seconds, he feels a presence in his back. He turned himself to face Happy, who smiled to him.

“Hey, Pog, are ya hungry ? Come with us, we are going to eat soon !

The Chosen smiled back to the Exceed.

– *With pleasure.*”

For the first time since a long moment, the creature was about to eat a good meal in company of nice people. That hasn't happened since so many years…

——————————————————————————–

Well well well, finally, more informations about our dears Pog and Alex ! 

Didn’t they had a hard life before they arrived in Fairy Tail ? :P

And that’s not finish ! 

Please excuse my english, as this is not my native language, I have certainly do a lot of errors in the text. I just hope that will not ruin the reading ! :/

See you soon for the next chapter ! :D

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: A Day in the Life, Part 2 (Chapter 15)

For @thisonesatellite​​ and @ohmightydevviepuu​​, and I hope you are not too drunk (and) or jet lagged to enjoy it ❤️❤️❤️

In which efforts to break the curse continue. Henry has an important meeting and reunites some old friends, Captain Book begins, and we learn more about the subtle knife. 

SUMMARY: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might  help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from a new and dangerous foe.

Rating: M

AO3

-

A Day in the Life, Part Two:

Henry’s third stop on his busy Saturday was the pawn shop. It was just as he remembered it, or at least as much as anything in this Bizarro World version of Storybrooke could be as he remembered. The sign above the door still read ‘Mr Gold’, and inside the shop itself was still cluttered with wondrous and mysterious things. It had been dusty and dank and somewhat grim when Henry first returned to it three weeks earlier but now was much cleaner and better organised, brighter, and welcoming in a way that it certainly had never been before. 

The front door was unlocked and Henry went right in. “Hi Mr Cassidy!” he called out as he closed it behind him. 

“Hey, Henry,” came his father’s voice from the back. “Be right there.” 

“Okay!” Henry looked around as he waited, peering curiously into the display cases and trying not to think too hard about where everything in them had come from. Despite all the improvements, the fact that the pawn shop was stocked with stolen things was still pretty creepy in his opinion. He hoped that after the curse broke Neal would give them back to their rightful owners and not hoard them for his own gain the way Mr Gold had. 

Henry hoped for a lot of things from Neal after the curse broke.

It worried him a bit, if he was honest, wondering what was going to happen to them—to all of them, really—after the curse. He and Neal had spent so little actual time together that Henry wasn’t sure how much of his image of his father was real and how much was wishful thinking. Killian had told him loads of stories of “Bae” as a boy, and Emma, once they got their memories back in New York, had finally told him the truth about the watches and giving birth to him in jail. But they seemed like such different people, Killian’s Bae and Emma’s Neal, and both were so different from Henry’s impressions of the man he’d met that he felt more confused than ever. At this point he wasn’t even quite sure what he wanted from the man or even what kind of man he hoped Neal would turn out to be. He only knew that he couldn’t turn his back on his own father, not even when that father had abandoned his mother and by extension him. 

(“That’s not entirely fair, lad,” Killian had said a few weeks earlier when they were having lunch together, just the two of them. “He didn’t know you existed. Perhaps if he had, he’d have made a different choice.” 

“Maybe,” Henry replied. “But he still left my mom in jail.” 

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “So he did, and I also find that difficult to forgive. I’m certain he regrets it, though.” 

Henry thought for a moment. “I’m not sure it matters that he regrets it,” he said. “Not if he doesn’t admit it was wrong and try to make up for it. Mom says he never even told her he was sorry.” He looked up at Killian. “Do you think he ever will?” 

Killian took his time answering. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I don’t know if he will ever understand just how deeply he hurt your mother. Truthfully, I feel I know the man far less than I did the boy. I’d like to believe that Bae is still in there somewhere, but Neal unfortunately seems to be a bit too much like his father.”

“Yeah,” said Henry. “But even Rumplestiltskin did the right thing in the end. He sacrificed himself to save us from Pan. Maybe my father will do the right thing too.” 

“Who’s to say but that he will,” replied Killian. 

Henry thought a bit more, then said firmly, “I’m gonna give him the chance to try.” 

Killian smiled at him, the proud smile that always made Henry feel warm inside. “I think that’s the right decision,” he said. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”)

The curtain separating the front of the shop from the back shifted, and Neal appeared. He smiled at Henry. “Hey, kid, what’s up?” 

“Nothing special. I was just wondering how things are going here?” 

“Good, yeah, good.” Neal smile turned a bit awkward and he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a learning curve, not gonna lie. But I’m getting the hang of it. Think I’ll be able to open next week.” 

“That’s great!” 

“Yeah. Hope so. Your dad’s been a lot of help, showing me the ropes of how to run a business. Tell him thanks from me, will you?” 

“Sure. Or you could come to dinner with us tonight and do it yourself.” 

“Dinner? What, like, at your house?” 

“Yep! My dad said it was okay if I asked you. He’s making burgers and he always makes too many, and we just thought you might like some company.” 

“Oh.” Neal blinked in confusion, a look Henry had come to realise meant he was thinking about something that would never have occurred to his cursed self on its own. “Um… sure, okay. Thanks.” 

“Cool! It’s above the bookstore. You know where that is, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So just ring the bell and we’ll come downstairs to get you. About seven?” 

Neal grinned. “I’ll be there. Thanks, Henry.” He shook his head and his grin shifted into an odd little smile, wistful and slightly sad. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Henry. 

“Oh, nothing, nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking. About how much has changed these last few weeks.” He leaned back against the register, crossing his arms over his chest. “I mean, it’s weird, right, the way those old records just showed up one day in the mayor’s office?”

“Yeah. Very weird.” Henry struggled to keep his face blank.

“I didn’t even know my father owned a pawn shop.” Neal frowned. “I don’t remember much about my father, actually.”  

“That’s probably why you didn’t know,” said Henry. 

“Yeah, probably. Anyway, it’s changed my life, you know. I never wanted to be a janitor, but—” he shrugged “—there wasn’t really anything else I could do. Now I can do this. Some kind of luck, huh?” 

“Oh yeah,” said Henry. “Luck.” And his mom’s magical forgery skills that were second to none. “I’m really glad, Mr Cassidy. I hope you’ll like working here.” 

“Yeah, thanks. I really think I will,” said Neal.

~

“You came to inquire about the subtle knife.” Oisín smiled, leaning back in his chair. “May I see it?” 

Emma huffed in annoyance, reminding herself that he was their best chance to find answers despite his supercilious nature and the supremely irritating way he always knew about things before they happened. She opened Killian’s satchel and took the knife from it.   

Oisín’s face was calm as she carefully removed the knife from the plastic evidence bag where she had kept it wrapped since she’d taken it from the loft, but there was a glint in his eyes that Emma recognised, having seen it in Killian’s on more than one occasion. It was the look of a man about to get his hands on a treasure he never imagined he’d have the chance to touch. She held the knife out to him and he took it almost reverently. 

“It’s extraordinary,” he breathed, letting his fingertips trail along the blade, and Emma couldn’t suppress an eye roll. What was it with men and weapons, she thought. Even the supposedly wise immortal ones were hard for them. 

“What can you tell me about it?” she asked. 

The look he gave her was nearly as sharp as the knife itself. “What do you already know?” 

“Not much. There’s mention of it in a book Henry found, but that was the only reference any of us could uncover. The book said that it was the sharpest blade in existence, and could cut through the fabric of reality, whatever that means.” 

“That is correct,” said Oisín. “The blade of Æsahættr is two-sided, as you can see.” He held the knife up to the the shop’s dusty window, catching the faint light with its two-toned blade. “It was forged of two different metals. This side—” he indicated the shiny edge “—can cut through any substance in any realm, while this one... can cut through the barriers between the realms themselves.” 

“So you’re saying that someone could use this knife to—to cut a portal between two realms?” asked Regina.

“Indeed.” 

Regina and Emma exchanged a look. “So that’s how she did it.” Regina sounded almost awestruck. “That’s how she made the portals.” She shook her head. “That’s—well, it’s terrifying magic.” 

“Terrifying indeed,” said Oisín. “And also extraordinarily dangerous. The energy that divides the realms is dangerously unstable, as well as being very powerful and difficult to breach. Cutting permanent portals into it brings vastly unpleasant consequences. I’d advise you not to attempt it, if there is any other method of realm travel at your disposal.” 

“We don’t need realm travel,” said Emma, just as Regina exclaimed “Permanent portals?”

“Yes, permanent,” Oisín replied. “It is possible to close them but doing so requires a delicacy of touch and a close relationship with the subtle knife, neither of which I believe your sister is capable.”

“That’s probably true,” said Regina, just as Emma exclaimed “A relationship with the knife?”

“Oh yes,” said Oisín, returning his attention to Emma, mirth twinkling in his emerald eyes. “The subtle knife always has a bearer, and though I cannot See who that bearer is, I am certain it is not Zelena.”

“She probably stole it,” said Regina. 

“That seems likely to be the case. And also likely that she forced the bearer to cut the portals.” 

Emma was frowning hard. “So how would someone go about becoming a—a bearer of this knife?” she asked. 

Oisín smiled, the smile of a man who has lived long and seen much, most of it unpleasant. “In the time-honoured way of passing a magical weapon from one hand to another,” he said. “By killing the previous bearer.” 

“Hmmm.” Emma’s frown deepened. “And is there any way of identifying the bearer?” 

“Perhaps, though it is difficult to be certain. The lore of Æsahættr is vague at best; in most realms it is entirely unknown and in others spoken of only in hushed whispers. Even I had believed it a myth, until I perceived its presence in this land. All I can tell you is that in some of the whispers there is mention of the bearer suffering injury to his left hand in the process of obtaining the knife. The loss of fingers, I believe.”

“Hmmm,” said Emma again. “Okay. Just one more question. You said that this side—” she pointed at the shiny edge”—can cut through any substance in any realm?” 

“Yes.” 

“What about magic?” 

“Oisín’s eyes glinted again. “In theory, yes. But I rather suspect you knew this already.”

Emma nodded, slowly. “I saw it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I wasn’t sure I could believe what I saw. I was fighting Zelena, I had her trapped within a containment spell… and Henry just—he just—cut the spell open. He sliced right through my magic.” 

Regina drew in her breath sharply. “He did?” 

“Yes didn’t you—oh, I suppose you couldn’t see the light magic?” 

“Not as clearly as you, no. But could Henry?”

“I imagine that young Henry perceived the magic more than strictly saw it,” remarked Oisín. “Perception, not sight, is what guides the subtle knife; the barriers between worlds are invisible to all eyes. That which one can perceive, however, one can cut.” 

~

Henry’s fourth stop of the day was Granny’s, just in time for lunch. The diner was busy as always, bustling with people and noise, and when the crowd parted and Henry caught a glimpse of his grandparents tucked away in a corner booth staring at each other with the same dopey looks on their faces that he saw all the time on his mom and dad, he couldn’t hold back a gleeful grin. 

“Hey, Archie,” he said, sliding onto a stool next to the erstwhile psychiatrist, who looked tired and hopeless and and very wrong dressed as a miner, with grime beneath his fingernails and settled deeply into the lines on his face. His wire-rimmed glasses had been replaced by safety goggles and his hair looked thinner. Nevertheless he greeted Henry with a warm smile. 

“Hello, Henry,” he said. “How are you?” 

“Good! Can I ask you something? 

“Of course.” 

“Have you ever considered getting a dog?” 

When Henry first began his quest to return love to the people of Storybrooke he had opted for little suggestions, gentle hints designed to nudge them in the right direction. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that with this curse subtlety was futile, and that they responded to nothing but what his dad called “sledgehammer tactics.” Hey, Belle, have this book. Here, Neal, take this pawnshop. So, Archie, how’d you like a dog? The direct approach was the only one that worked. 

“A dog?” Archie replied. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Really? Because I think you’d be great as a dog dad.” 

“A dog dad…” Archie’s voice trailed off and a dreamy look settled in his eyes. “I’ve never thought of getting a dog.” He frowned in confusion. “That is, I don’t think I have. But actually… yes. A dog. Yes. That might be just the thing.” 

“Uh huh,” said Henry, who was keen to waste no time. “I saw one today I think you would love. A Dalmatian.” 

“Really?” 

“Yep. At the animal shelter. He just got there today.”

“A Dalmatian,” said Archie. “That’s the black and white spotted ones, right?” 

“Yep. I petted him, he’s really friendly. And he really needs a home.” 

Archie looked uncertain. “I don’t know if I could take care of a dog, Henry. I work long hours, you know.”

Yeah but you won’t for much longer, Henry thought. Not if I have anything to say about it.

“Just go meet him,” he wheedled. “I’ll come with you if you like.” 

Archie warred with himself for another moment then nodded. “All right. I’ll meet him.” 

~

It was barely a quarter past two when Belle arrived at the bookshop. Killian was busy helping customers and didn’t see her right away. It still surprised him how much business the shop drew in, considering the place only existed to give him a respectable and non-suspicion-raising occupation and a reason to move to Storybrooke, and also as a means of getting books of magic to a place where Emma could have access to them, both to help her rediscover her own magic and to give them all the information they would need to take on Zelena. It had certainly fulfilled all those roles, admirably, but now that the curse was near to breaking Killian had begun to think ahead. He would need something to occupy his days, and what with his ship and his crew most likely stranded in Neverland with Blackbeard as their captain, a return to piracy or even a more respectable ship-based occupation was firmly off the table. His only real option was to keep the bookshop.

The more that he thought about it the more appealing the idea grew. He truly loved his little shop, the light and airy space all his own that he had organised and furnished to suit his tastes. He loved his books, the way they smelled and how they looked lined up neatly on his shelves. He loved matching those books to the people who sought them, loved both the pleased looks on his customers’ faces and the satisfaction of closing a sale. He loved the mental exercise of keeping his accounts and tracking his inventory, of looking through catalogs and choosing new books to purchase. Books that of course he would need to read himself in order to make recommendations to his customers. That prospect in particular he loved. Killian still found this realm frustrating and baffling in many ways but one thing that could be chalked up firmly in its favour was that it possessed a true wealth of reading material. He calculated he would need to live at least another three hundred years just to get through it all.

He began to think about expansion, about new genres he could introduce, popular titles that would attract new customers. Soon plans and ideas that started small had grown and grown until they were lodged firmly in his mind, refusing to be ignored or brushed aside. He wanted to do this, he realised, wanted it quite intensely, and for the first time in his very long life he had the luxury of choosing to do precisely what he wanted. Which was a surprisingly terrifying prospect but also a very welcome one. 

Killian completed his sale then turned to greet the new customer with a smile that froze on his face when he recognised Belle. Though Henry had texted him to expect her visit he instinctively braced himself for her anger, her disgust, before he recalled that she was cursed and didn’t remember him. 

“Hello,” he said, forcing himself to relax. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 

“Are you Killian Jones?” 

“Aye.” 

“My—my name is Belle. Belle French. I, uh, know your son.” 

“Ah, yes. I believe he mentioned you. He recommended a book to you?” 

“Yes.” Belle’s face lit up. “A wonderful one. And he said, um, that you might be looking for an assistant? Here?”

Bloody Henry, thought Killian, with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. You drop one mention that you’re thinking of expanding and he runs with it. Still, he couldn’t deny that the quickest way to nurture Belle’s love of books would be to surround her with them. The lad was undeniably clever. 

“I’m thinking about it,” he said. “Are you interested in the job?” 

“Y—” Belle took a deep breath. “Yes. I am.” 

“Well, why don’t you sit down and we’ll have a chat about it,” said Killian, gesturing to the sofa at the back of the shop. “Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea?” 

“Tea would be lovely.” 

What the hell, thought Killian, as he went to make the tea, why not? When the curse broke she would doubtless be angry and scared of him again—and who could blame her?—but then he knew he’d be dealing with rather a lot of that once Storybrooke regained its memories. He might as well take what steps he could towards demonstrating how he had changed and hope that would be enough to convince people to give him a second chance. 

~

“Perception,” echoed Emma. “Right. Okay. I think that’s all we needed to ask.” She turned to Regina. “Unless you have any other questions?” 

“No.” Regina shook her head. “This has been very informative.” 

Emma held out her hand for the knife and Oisín, after one last long look and a subtle caress, relinquished it. Carefully, Emma replaced it in the reinforced evidence bag and tucked it back into the satchel. She leaned the satchel against the leg of her chair and turned back to Oisín with an expression both resigned and expectant. 

“What?” he asked. 

“We’ve learned what I came here to learn,” she replied. “So we’ll be going now. We need to get back to Storybrooke before it gets too late.” 

“Indeed. It was lovely seeing you, even for a short time.” 

Emma frowned. “Is that it?” 

“Were you expecting more?”

“Well, I mean, aren’t you going to give me some cryptically wise parting words?” asked Emma. “You usually do.” 

“Not today,” said Oisín, amusement dancing in his eyes again. “I believe you know everything you need, and also that you understand the import of what you know.” 

“Well that makes a change.” 

He laughed, a light, musical sound that rang out far more loudly than it ought to in the small space of the shop. “You know, Emma, I’m very proud of you,” he said. “You were hardly the easiest pupil I have ever taught, but you are by far the most accomplished. And I don’t just mean your power, that you were born with. I mean your attitude and your approach to your magic. How you have let go of your fear and resentment of it. How you’ve embraced it. I believe that had you not, even Hook’s most determined efforts to restore it to you could not have been successful.” 

Emma flushed, still not wholly comfortable with praise, and gave a little shrug. “It’s all down to him anyway,” she said. “He always says that magic is a part of me and that he—” she grew pinker and glanced at Regina out of the corner of her eye “—he loves every part of me.” 

Regina did not sneer. Instead she flushed slightly herself and smiled a small smile, as if remembering. 

Oisín nodded in satisfaction. “It’s as I hoped then.” He leaned back in his chair again, his expression soft and almost wistful. “I used to weep at the waste of that man,” he said. “You must never tell him that I told you this. I wept in mourning for the loss of what he could have been, for the good man so deeply buried beneath anger and vengeance that I feared he would never be seen in more than glimpses. That he would destroy himself without ever knowing who he truly was, or could be. Until you, Emma, gave him a reason to know it. You saved him.” 

“He saved me too,” said Emma, thinking of how closed off she had been before she met Killian. How lonely. How lost. “We saved each other.”

“Yes,” Oisín agreed. “That was the first part of your story. A part I believe is now approaching its end. There are far more parts to come. Enjoy them all, together.” 

He stood and waited as Emma and Regina followed suit, then held out his hand. When Emma took it as if to shake, he grasped hers between both of his and held it tightly. 

“What will you do now?” Emma asked him. “I—I don’t think Killian and I will be coming back here. Once we break the curse... well, all my family is in Storybrooke and he really loves that bookstore. I’m pretty sure we’ll be staying there. Are you going to stay here?” 

“No,” Oisín replied, “I’m no longer needed in this place. I shall return to my home, and my Niamh. But you know how to find me, should you ever have need of me again. Or simply wish to say hello.” 

“We might actually do that,” said Emma, smiling. “Thank you.” 

Oisín returned the smile, squeezing Emma’s hand. “It’s been an honour, Emma Swan, now Jones,” he said. “Give my regards to your husband and son. And to the rest of your family—” his eyes flitted to her belly, so briefly she nearly missed it. “—when they arrive.” 

~

Belle left the bookstore an hour later with a new job and a bag full of books, most from Killian’s own personal collection. 

“I’m working on diversifying the inventory,” he’d explained. “And your input on the best ways to do that would be greatly appreciated. At the moment we don’t stock very much light, entertaining reading material. However I believe I have one or two things of my own you would enjoy.” He piled book after book into one of the cloth bags printed with the Jolly Roger Books logo and handed it to Belle with a grin. “I look forward to hearing what you think of them.” 

She felt happier than she could remember feeling, all but dancing along the sidewalk in her eagerness to get home and start reading, absolutely ecstatic at the prospect of quitting her job at the market and going every day to that beautiful shop full of books and light and Killian’s friendly smile and interesting conversation. Even the odd hints of regret that she could see lurking behind his eyes felt relatable, and though she’d only spent an hour in his company she felt almost like he was a friend already. 

Books and a friend, thought Belle, with a flash of insight and a sudden clarity that swept away the apathy and confusion that had clouded her mind for as long as she could remember. She stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk as a feeling of revelation washed over her. That’s what had been missing in her life, the cause of the emptiness she constantly felt but never could quite manage to explain. All this time she’d thought something was broken in her, when really she’d just needed books. And a friend.   

~

Henry met Archie outside the animal shelter late that afternoon. Archie smiled his familiar, warm smile but Henry could see he was nervous. 

“Henry, I know I agreed to this but I’m not so sure it’s really—” he began. 

“Just meet the dog,” Henry interrupted. “It won’t hurt to meet him.” 

He pushed open the door and held it, looking back expectantly. “Come on,” he encouraged, and slowly Archie followed.  

“Back again, Henry?” David smiled at them. “Yep! Mr Nolan, this is Archie,” said Henry. “He’s the one I told you about, who might adopt the new dog.” “Might,” emphasised Archie with a nervous smile. 

“No problem,” said David. “We only allow adoptions when we think it’s a good match, for the animal and the human.” Archie nodded, and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. “Henry, why don’t you take him back to meet the dog?” David asked. 

Henry had to force himself not to run. He hurried to Pongo’s cage where the dog seemed to be waiting, wagging his tail. “Here he is,” said Henry eagerly. “Isn’t he great?” 

Archie approached the cage slowly, his eyes going wide behind his safety goggles. “He’s—he’s gorgeous,” he whispered.  

“At the sound of Archie’s voice Pongo gave a small bark and his tail picked up speed, moving so fast it was a blur. He poked his nose through the bars of the cage and whined at Archie. 

“Look!” cried Henry. “He likes you already.” 

“Ohhh,” said Archie, moving towards the cage, hand extended. “Hello, boy.” 

Pongo licked his hand, and when Archie knelt down, his face, covering it in sloppy, loving kisses. Archie laughed, his face lit up with joy. 

“Well he certainly seems to have chosen you,” said David’s voice from behind them. 

“He definitely has,” Henry agreed. “You’ve got to adopt him, Archie.” 

“I don’t—I’m not—I can’t—” Archie looked helplessly at Pongo’s pleading eyes and sighed. “I will,” he said. He looked up at David. “If it’s okay—” 

“Of course,” said David. “There’s some paperwork to do, but after seeing you together I’m more than happy to sign off on the adoption. Congratulations.”

Archie nodded, still looking a bit shell-shocked. 

“I’ll go get everything prepared, you come to the front when you’re ready,” said David, He took out a key and unlocked Pongo’s cage. The minute the door opened, the dog leapt on Archie, squirming delightedly. 

“What are you going to name him?” asked Henry. 

“You know, I have no idea,” said Archie. “I never actually expected this to happen. Have you got any suggestions?” 

“How about Pongo?” Henry suggested. 

“Pongo,” Archie repeated, and the dog barked happily. Archie smiled. “Is your name Pongo?” 

“Woof!” said Pongo. 

“Well, that seems definitive.” Archie laughed. “Pongo it is, then.”

He stood, his hand still on Pongo’s head. “Thank you, Henry,” he said. “I had no idea I needed a dog, but I think...” he frowned and shook his head, blinking rapidly. “Somehow, I think he’s just what I was missing.”  

“No problem,” said Henry, mentally ticking another name off his list. “I knew you guys would love each other.”

~

Emma poofed herself and Regina straight from Queens to Killian’s apartment. Transporting the both of them over such a distance and then back again had exhausted a great deal of her magic, and if she went to the station first she doubted she’d have enough left to poof from there to home. And as she and Killian were still cautious about being seen together in public, she didn’t want to walk to his place or drive. It wasn’t worth the risk of anyone observing her going into the bookstore after it was closed, or spotting her bug parked in front of it. 

Henry and Killian were already there when the white smoke swirled up from the ground and they appeared. Emma went straight to her husband, knowing he would be worried about her, and allowed him to run his hands over her and look probingly into her eyes, assuring himself that she was okay in both mind and body. Regina gave a hug to Henry and a nod to Killian, then left to get ready for her date. 

“Regina and Robin Hood,” said Emma, snuggling into Killian’s side and relaxing against him. “I still can’t quite believe it.” 

“It’s so cool,” said Henry. 

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Emma smiled, thinking about the new softness she’d witnessed in Regina that afternoon. “So how was your day, kid?” 

“Good!” Henry’s face lit up. “I did so much! I found Pongo and got Archie to adopt him, and Dad’s gonna give Belle a job, and I invited my father for dinner.” 

“Your fa—Neal? For dinner?” Henry nodded. “What, here?”

“Aye,” said Killian, running his hand soothingly up and down her arm. “It was Henry’s idea but I agreed. We thought it might be nice to include him in a family meal, even if he doesn’t know that’s what it is.” 

“He’s really lonely, Mom,” Henry chimed in. “Everyone in town is, but him especially. I think the love he needs might have to come from us.” 

“But… then why did we give him the pawn shop?” 

“To get the pawn shop open again, mostly,” said Killian. “And to give us an excuse to meet him. But we didn’t really expect him to discover any love there. Remember, Swan, that Bae was abandoned by his mother and ran away from his father. He found a home briefly with the Darling children but that was taken from him, and I’m sad to say that during his time in Neverland he didn’t really become close to any of the Lost Boys. Henry thinks and I agree, that what Neal really needs, what perhaps he’s always needed, is a family.” 

Emma nodded. “I can see that, I guess. But how are you going to explain me being here with you guys? Won’t he think that’s weird?” 

“So we just don’t explain it,” said Henry. “The curse has kept him really isolated. I don’t think he knows you’re supposed to be married to Walsh. He doesn’t seem to know very much about what’s been going on in town, and almost nothing about his father.”

“Huh,” said Emma. “I guess that makes sense. It was the same with Regina. She was really isolated working for my parents.” 

“Aye. Allow people to interact and you risk them forming attachments,” Killian agreed. “I imagine that any kind of genuine connection between people would have threatened the integrity of the curse.” 

“Well, okay,” said Emma. “That sounds like a solid plan, and I’m on board. But I need a serious nap before I deal with Neal or anyone else. I’ve used so much magic today. When’s he supposed to get here?” 

“Not for a few hours yet,” said Killian, kissing her hair. “Go have your nap, love. We’ll be sure to wake you in time.” 

Henry watched as his parents cuddled for a moment then shared a soft kiss, watched his mom head off to their bedroom and watched his dad watching her go. He thought about his grandparents making doey eyes at each other that afternoon at Granny’s, and about Archie and Pongo’s joyful reunion. He thought about his mom so excited about her date with Robin, and about Belle discovering books and his father coming to have dinner with them. He smiled to himself. A day like this one was just about worth getting up early for. 

-

@katie-dub​​​ @kmomof4​​​ @teamhook​ @stahlop​​​ @mariakov81​​​ @snowbellewells​​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @jennjenn615​@tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @winterbaby89​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @resident-of-storybrooke​

[jean-arclight]

Somethings I see now looking back.

The finale was awesome. Now before you rant or continue to move on, let me explain and then you can go. I respect your opinion so respect mine and others. Also major spoilers ahead!

First off, I love that they defeated Steven with a hug. Listen, you can say that is not a realistic way or it was too rushed. But think. Rebecca wasn’t trying to make her show famous with violence or action. No. She made this show with a message to all who watches. Think about it. Why fight to poof or kill someone who you know that has PTSD, Depression, or is in a lot of stress? Is that a way to really go?

No, someone who does, needs love, comfort, and a willing hand to help them through their trauma, ptsd, stress, etc. I understand. I have friends and family who have this. Its tough. They may think they need to hide so that they won’t be a burden, or like Steven, thought he was a fraud and a monster. The way to help is with love. Let them know your there. Hold them. Listen to them. Cheer them on! Thats what Rebecca showed in the second to last episode. Lets be honest, we all wanted to hug Steven there and we were all happy he can now fully grasp on who he wants to be. I love it! Rebecca and her crew really showed PTSD really well.

Now other things I realized.

First off, when Steven first turned into his monster form, notice how he hurts himself. Sometimes when one thinks of themselves as a monster, they will hurt themselves as they think they deserve it. This may have been Steven’s last thought before he became fearl. Actually, let me refraise that. Second to last thought. The last thought was when he grasp the temple. It looked like he was hugging the temple. Someone mentioned this earlier. He just wanted some comfort. Thus he hugged the temple... but it wasn’t enough.

Second, notice when the others are huggin Steven, White only holds him with her hands. Its like she was hesitant. I was thinking, maybe she wasn’t really into hugging or maybe she was squimished? But then I may have gotten the idea. She was letting Steven have a chance in choosing if he wanted her hug or not. Think, before all this happened, she allowed Steven to talk to “himself”. She may have not been in contol of her body, but she could still see everything going on. Thus she must have seen that Steven was still afraid of her as there was a flashback that showed her pulling out his gem. Later in the hugging scene, she is full on hugging him, showing that he accepts her hug. She is really trying to change. Maybe her first actual chance to make amends with Steven beside her wanting to help Steven when he came directly to her for help.

Thirdly, I like how we get some cameos in Everythings fine. For example, we get more Volleyball when Steven comes to little homeworld and the gem we first got to meet when Steven Universe Future aired. Another is Blue and Yellow Pearl are in Bismuth class and I have a speculation that they may get married as Bismuth is making a wedding armor. Also freaking Larmar... she’s so cute.

Fourth, can we all appriciate that Garnet is a couple counciler?

Fifth, those details on Steven’s scales on closeups man!

Sixth, notice how Connie kissed CorrputedSteven? I was thinking at first, awe cute, the most powerful of love. But I also thought of later was that Steven healed Connie’s eyes with an indirect kiss, thus in a way, Connie healed Steven with a direct kiss.

Seventh, also notice after the kiss, Steven’s tears are back. His healing tears. Again, I didn’t realized until watching over and over again. He’s healing. He’s finally self healing. After everything he’s been through, all the people and gems he healed, after all the beatings and truama he was put through, he can finally heal. Thus he begins to heal himself. Also since corruption is healed through all of the diamonds, all diamonds are there. Steven was brough back to were his tears work again (not saying that they didn’t work before).

Eight, This is the freakin first time that Steven burst out sobbing! (Not really counting the time when he was vaccumed into space and was brought back to the gems who cried with him as it was more of relief than letting go).

Nine, the last episode brought back soooooo many memories from the series, for example Steven is now doing yoga, like when he was trying to be the life couch and when he sang strong in the real way. (Just listing some stuff in the next final list).

Ten, Cat Steven made his last appearence!

Eleven, Wow. They began with cookie and that being the first song as well (again not counting the intro) and end it with cookie cat and a refrise of the song.

Twelve, on the fridge in the background, the picture that Steven and Centi made is hanging on the fridge along with the breakfast gang magnets.

Thirteen, Peridots machines (can’t remember what they are call but the things that fix the warps) is on the sheld in the kitchen.

Fourteen, Pearl ate something! (If I remember right, that was the third time).

Fifteen, this is why I watch things over and over again, at first I thought, oh cool, Jasper made a final appearence... then I realized that she’s now in little homeworld and not at her camp. Also it seems that she took Steven’s advice and is looking for something to do with her life. Yay!

Sixteen, notice when Steven gives his game to Amethyst, that Rose’s sword is on the shelf.

Seventeen, OMG!! Steven gave his hamburger backpack to Onion! How cute!!!

Eighteen, Pumkin is alive and well with his own friends!

Nineteen, The two gems introduced in Homeward bound when Yellow was fixing one of them, made one more cameo when Steven is leaving (flint and I can’t remember the other names). It also seems Volleyball is taking a picture for them.

Lastly, I understand why Steven would leave and its kind of funny on how it was hinted all along that Steven was leaving Beach City. A place where he spent 16 years of his life in fear, truama, and stress. You would need to move from it as it can cause some unpleasant memories. However, I believe that Steven will come back to visit but his new home will help him move on. Its a step we all must take someday. Its a sign of moving on and continuing with life. Steven wants to move on. Thus he’s finally putting away his past and is going towards his future. Such a bittersweet and loving ending.

Of course, I too have somethings that I’d wish I knew. Such as the chest and what about the other characters. But I understand that they had little time. It such a great way in ending a series as Rebecca had wanted it to be. This season was about moving on. Like as the title says. Steven Universe Future.

Thank you Rebecca.

[multimxsings]

Out of the Woods

A little oneshot about Iduna saving Agnarr during the battle and what happened afterwards. Heavy spoilers for Frozen 2

Ao3   ff.net

It's been a while since the dam was build. The Northuldra and Arendellians accepted each other as neighbors and friends and so the Arendellians built this dam to seal that friendship. It wasn't really that good for them though. The lack of water was damaging the forest.

But Iduna wasn't thinking too much of it. Firstly, because she was too young and secondly because their eldest will talk with the King of Arendelle to find a solution. She was with her people for the most part, listening to the conversations between her people and the Arendellians. But then her friend, the wind spirit, distracted her.

She followed him and played with him like she always did. The spirit was making her fly around as if its pushing her somewhere, but she didn't think too much about it. And while she was playing around with the spirit, something suddenly changed. All the spirits were angry all of a sudden. The wind spirit brought her away from the battle that suddenly broke out. What happened? Everyone were like best friends a moment ago.

During the chaos she just barely saw the king dying and the prince being thrown away by the spirits. Iduna didn't care who started this fight, she just wanted it to stop! Plus she couldn't and didn't want to see someone hurt.

The girl ran to the prince, going down on her knees and holding up his head. “Hey! Are you okay?” She asked, but didn't get an answer from him. He was unconscious. Must've hit his head…She tried pulling him away from this chaos, but he was too heavy for her. Iduna looked around, everyone else were too busy fighting…

The spirits were furious, but maybe it still worked…The girl sang to the spirit of the wind, like she always did, calling him for help. And help she got. The spirit helped her carry the prince to safety. Just outside the forest was a carriage and without thinking she sneaked them both on the back. The spirit put a blanket over her to hide her. Then she felt it move fast.

She made sure neither of them would fall off and when she peeked out from under the blanket, she saw a thick mist forming and covering her home. The mist was hiding the forest behind it. For some reason she had the feeling that she won't see her home, her family ever again…It was then that she noticed the tears gliding down her cheeks. How could it end like this?

Well...at least she still had her shawl with her. That's at least something from her home. When she heard the men in the front talk, she quickly pulled the blanket over her head again, lying still. They were just as confused as her. And of course they'd think her people attacked first, just like she thought the Arendellians did.

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

Iduna woke up when the blanket was torn away from her. She jumped up in shock, before looking at Arendellian guards and the owner of this carriage. And they looked angry. The girl moved away from them as far as she could, which wasn't far at all as she soon hit the wood behind her.

Then suddenly one of the man grabbed her by her collar, pulling her up to her knees. “You little-! What are you doing there?! Did you try to steal something?” He growled in her face. “No! No, I just…”

The guard noticed someone else under the blanket and pulled it away, revealing the prince. Then he looked at her suspicious. “What were you doing with the prince, girl?”

“Nothing!”

“Were you trying to kidnap him?”

“Jeez, I'm not older than him! What should I do with him anyway? I was just saving him.”

The guard frowned at that. “Saving from what?”

“I-I'm a Northuldra. He was at our place with the king and his guards. We were all getting along well, but then suddenly they were all fighting each other. He was hurt, so I brought him to safety...Now let me go!”

Then a woman appeared, glaring at the salesman that still held her. “What's going on here? Let go of the girl, will you.” She slapped the man's hand and he let go of her clothes. “She said something went wrong in the Enchanted Forest.” Said the guard, while the woman looked very worried. “But she saved the prince.”

“Then why are you threatening this poor girl? We owe her.” Then she turned to the guard. “Please bring the prince to his room.” The guard immediately did as he was told and carried the still unconscious prince into the castle. Iduna jumped down the carriage, looking lost. “Uhm...” Before she could say anything, though, the woman spoke. “Come in, girl.”

“Oh, I...I don't think...” The woman didn't listen to her though and gently pushed her towards the castle. “I'm sure it was a long journey from your home. You must be cold and starving.”

Well, she wasn't wrong...She was a little cold. And after being reminded she felt the hunger coming. So she didn't fight her, as she was led inside. And the castle looked even bigger from the inside! “Wow...” Iduna didn't know where to look first. This place was amazing...“I'm Gerda. What's your name, young lady?” The girl almost laughed. No one called her 'young lady' before. It was kinda sweet. “Iduna.”

“That’s a very beautiful name.” They both smiled at each other. “Do you want to take a bath?” At first Iduna wanted to decline. But she was very dirty...“Uhm...if I may.”

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

Iduna was led into a ridiculously large room then, with an equally large bathroom that had the biggest tub that she’s ever seen in her life. Gerda put some liquids in the water and soon enough lots of foam appeared and a sweet, flowery scent filled the air. “What is that scent?” She asked the woman.

“It’s lavender.” Answered the woman, while Iduna stared at the foam in fascination. “Call me when you need anything.” With that Gerda left to give her some privacy. This gave her the chance to inspect everything.

Everything looked so...over the top. Typical royals probably. After shedding her clothes, she got unto the tub to find the water hot, but not unpleasant. It’s like a natural hot spring. So this is how royals washed and relaxed themselves? She could get usee to this to be honest, but she knew that she had to leave soon. After the nice bath, of course.

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

Iduna woke up an hour later. She must've fallen asleep...But it wasn't so bad. Having a little nap in some warm water was great. But now the water's turning cold. Time to get out. As she sat up and rubbed her tired eyes, she noticed that her clothes were gone! In their place was a towel and a dress and of course undergarments.

Looked like Gerda came back with these and let her sleep. After getting out of the tub and drying herself, she got into the new clothes. The dress was really nice, but nothing like her usual clothes. She’d surely have some problems moving around in this and climbing trees…

But before she could think were to stay the night, someone knocked on the door. “Uh, come in.” She said to the person behind the door and in came Gerda. “Hello, sleepyhead.” Iduna just smiled at her shyly. “Do you like your clothes? Do they fit?”

“Yes. Yes, they’re good. But where are my old ones?” Then her eyes widened in horror. “W-where is my shawl?”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. Your clothes will be washed and your shawl is right there.” The woman and pointed at the enormous bed. Iduna ran to it immediately and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Thank god…”

“This is very important to you, hm?” It wasn’t a question bit a statement. “Yes...it was my mothers.” She could already feel the tears at the memories of her mother. Which led to the thought that she won’t be able to see any of her family ever again. She could feel it...She felt the anger of the spirits and not once in her life did she hear or see that kind of mist. It was magical...

The woman hugged her, reminding her of her mother and Iduna couldn’t stop the tears anymore. She cried her eyes out for minutes, or maybe it was an hour before she calmed down again. “Sorry...” The girl sniffled, wiping her tears away. “It’s alright.” Said Gerda with that soft voice of hers. Only then did Iduna remember something important. “H-how’s the prince?”

“He’s still sleeping but fine. His injury wasn’t bad but he still needs to recover.”

Iduna nodded, relieved. “Good...please don’t tell him that I saved him. And don’t tell him a Northuldra did it either. Please.” Who knew how he might react if he saw her and k ew what she was? He surely wouldn’t be that happy about it. Even if no one could go back to the Enchanted Forest, there’d be one Northuldra he could punish for all this. And how would the rest of the Arendellians react? Her father told her they’re hiding for a reason and the story will come out one way or another. Everyone will hate her. She’d have no place to stay...

Gerda seemed to understand her wishes. “Okay. I won’t tell anyone. And the guards won’t either.”

“Thank you...” Maybe it’s better if they throw away her clothes too. If anyone would see her like that...Even if she’d hide in the nearby forests. “I...should go now.”

“And where do you want to go?” Asked Gerda, while the girl shrugged. “The woods?” Still, she was worried that she might not survive all alone. She could hunt, and climb and build things, but everything’s more difficult when she was alone.

“Listen, you don’t have to live in the woods. I can bring you to the orphanage if you want. You can stay tonight, though. After all, we owe you this much since you saved the prince.” Gerda suggested then.

Iduna wondered what this place would be like...but maybe it was a little better than trying to survive on her own. “Okay.”

[baconpal]

here i go talkin bout fuckig anime again

rant time, but like a good one where i’m happy about things instead of angry

so ima talk about and recommend some anime shit, specifically  comfy anime and gurren lagann

i’ll just start it by saying what i mean by comfy anime, cus its something that is more vague than it should be for most people, but for me it’s pretty much anime that i wouldn’t want to binge all together, and instead watch an episode or two when i want to just enjoy something. The kind of show where after watching a little you become really confident that every single episode is just gonna be good, and you can just enjoy forgetting everything and watching it for just a moment of time. 

The anime I consider comfy and also like the most are: 

Girls Last Tour, which i’ve talked about a lot already and i will do it more if you give me an excuse, still one of the best things out there, go watch it fuck you, but that was really good as a once a week thing to wind down my week when it aired.

Non Non Biyori, which is a pretty classic example of just a really slow paced show about a slow paced kind of life. It’s about the best example of slice of life since it’s not trying to be anything else. It’s not comedy or romance or a hobbyist show or anything at all but moments in life, and it’s very relaxing.

And lastly, the comfy anime that made me wanna start ranting in the first place, Yama no Susume. I’m gonna go and talk about it for a while now, but I’ll just give it a general recommendation to whoever cares. The episodes are all short so watch a little and decide if you like it, cus if you like the beginning even a bit, you’ll likely love seasons 2 and 3.

I found this show when my brain thought “anything with a sequel must have at least been good enough to warrant more”, and I looked at the currently airing anime that was a sequel of something and went and watched the first seasons instead, despite coming to enjoy Yama no Susume, I also found that watching things just because they have sequels is a pretty bad idea, cus most of it fucking sucked.

Regardless, I saw season 3 was airing exactly 1 year ago, and began watching the first season, which really shouldn’t have taken long, because it was a short series, coming in at maybe 40 minutes of actual episodes for the entire first season, even still, I watched it over the course of a month, and really enjoyed having such incredibly small amounts of nice content to just have ready whenever. The second and third season are still shorter than most, with 13 minute episodes over regular anime lengths, and also encouraged a slow consumption of just a little bit whenever I felt like watching. It’s been a clean year since season 3 aired and I’ve only now finished the series, despite being fully engrossed the entire time I was watching. I guess talking about the anime is probably a good idea, so here’s the gist:

THE GIST

Yama no susume is a hobbyist anime about mountain climbing. I don’t climb mountains and I don’t use any part of my body besides my arms and my penis so I don’t have much investment in the subject, but it was still very easy to enjoy the show because the premise set up the studio with the chance to produce countless beautiful scenic shots, which is usually the strength of hobbyist shows, one specific thing the artists want to draw really really well. Yama no susume also has a strong story it wishes to tell on top of an easily enjoyable premise and format.

Like most good hobbyist shows, the main character, Aoi, starts of without any interest in the subject, and seems to have a void in her life, in her case, absolutely nothing going on in her life, at all, besides casual knitting. It took a bit for it to sink of for myself, but I had become very attached to Aoi because she mirrored very similarly my own life going into high school, no friends I really felt like i cared about or cared about me, and only a passing interest in some stuff I wasn’t too invested in. The entirety of the show explores how a friend entering Aoi’s life and giving her a hobby to be invested in and meet more people through improves her outlook on life and helps her grow as a person in pretty much every possible way. 

THE NOT GIST (THE ACTUAL STORY)

The first season, being so short, really only features Aoi and her forgotten friend Hinata climbing two mountains total, both of which are pretty much just light hiking that most people have probably done once or twice themselves, and meeting two people in their town with more interest in the hobby.

I’ll also just awkwardly sandwich this here, in between season 1 and 2 is a very short ova where they climb a rock wall with their new friends, but its not anyway near as well animated or interesting as anything else in the series and also has an extensive sauna scene that, again, doesn’t really fit with anything in the series, so if you read this extensive review before deciding you wanted to watch the series, feel free to skip that one i guess.

The second season is where a lot of the show really is, and most of the show being 24 of the 39 episodes, as well as including a nice short film that’s pretty much just 2 more episodes afterwards. With the new, longer, but still short episode time, a lot more mountains get climbed, as well as some actual stuff goin on. After climbing a few mountains, Aoi decides she wants to climb Mt. Fuji, the fuckin big boy, and the 4 ladies go and do that together, when the show pulls out the first of it’s comfy tricks;

the main character does not succeed at their goal they had set and worked towards, and it results in an uncomfortable situation for the rest of the cast. Aoi is unable to handle such a difficult climb, and her friends complete the climb without her, and it pretty much destroys her for a good amount of episodes. Despite definitely being a comfy show, there are a few stretches of episodes in which things are not going well for the cast, and the slow paced scenery viewing takes on a more comber, pensive purpose. After failing at her hobby for the first time, Aoi falls pretty hard back into her original disinterested state of being, and it seems like a lot of her character falls apart. It takes the intervention of Hinata again to reinvigorate her by taking her to the first mountain they climbed, showing Aoi that she has still grown a lot, and that she will improve more with time.

From that point till the end of season 2 (including the movie) the driving idea of the show becomes memories, and how the vague and heart-shaking feeling of nostalgia can be helpful in unpleasant times. The two main girls recall things that occurred when they were childhood friends, like times they were scarred and depended on each other, or a camping trip they took when they were children, and use those memories to fuel further bonding and growth. Even the two secondary girls use memories to reconnect with their friends and families, and it’s a very strong concept to roll with for the slow, one step at a time type of show it is. The season ends with all 4 girls better than ever, and flexing their friendship muscle by making friends with a stubbornly shy mountain climber that parallels Aoi’s original state, and shows her new understanding that having a friend that shares your hobby will always lead to both of your lives being better.

While the first episode is almost entirely about Aoi and Hinata being friends, the second season continues to introduce more characters that Aoi interacts with as she grows more socially capable, with her even getting a job to support her hobby. This shift away from the relationship between the two girls is then made into a proper topic in the third season, where Aoi is pushed to gain even more friends and do things completely separate from Hinata and mountain climbing. This is when the other comfy trick comes out;

The secondary protagonist, Hinata, becomes upset that the Aoi has grown to have more friends and be less dependent on Hinata, and begins to make poor decisions that further put strain on their relationship over most of the season. 

“wow two characters misunderstand each other and it creates drama!!!” isn’t exactly a mind blowing thing for an anime to do, but whenever any problems came up in the first two seasons, they were handled fairly quickly, rarely ever lasting more than one episode, and usually handled with pretty open, mature conversations that you would expect two friends to actually have instead of just being pissed at each other for a few weeks. So when Hinata does not make any attempt to be open about her feelings, and Aoi is unable to grasp the situation, it creates a justified stretch of drama. I really do mean it when i say most of the season is about this, like pretty much from episode 3 till 12 it’s just a constantly building frustration with a lot behind it, and when they finally can have a simple, honest conversation, it really feels nice.

After that there’s one final episode with a more expected case of the two not understanding one another, and having an honest conversation about it. This specific case is a good capstone to the series, as they discuss how you really don’t know much about even your best friends, but talking about each other honestly, and desiring to know more about each other is where a lot of the fun in friends is. 

With that, the series is done for now, but who knows where it’ll go from here. I heard a lot of good about season 3 as it was coming out, and still see a good amount of support for it, and season 3 ends with “See you again” as opposed to “The end” like the other two season. I’m not gonna get my hopes up cus there’s already a lot there and they explore 3 very important ideals that really resonate with me. But if they could make a fourth season that brings in an entirely knew concept to look at, I’d be really happy. 

Anyway if you read all that and still haven’t decided then just go fucking watch some Yama no Susume, see if i care.

THE GURREN LAGANN PART

Ye how about a complete tonal shift from comfy anime to loud action stuff?

SO i saw Promare finally after missing a bunch of chances to see it, and honestly I don’t have all that much to say about it. Despite being 2 hours it felt really short and like I got no time with the characters, and they were all pretty shallow characters that I didn’t really have any attachment to even on a surface level. Near the end there’s a big drill and a mech with a face on its chest with absolutely no reason or explanation, and because of that I came out of the theater really just thinking “i really want to rewatch gurren lagann” instead of caring that much about promare.

Now I’m rewatching it for probably the 8th time and it really impresses me how much more I like it each time. When i was a stupid baby and watched it for the first time i did what a lot of stupid kids did, watched for a while, really liked kamina, and stopped watching when the he was gone. Obviously I’ve watched it fully many times since then, and while younger me probably would have loved the second half, where simon fills the role kamina did, the me of today really doesn’t care for the second half that much, and I find myself watching just the first half of the show and stopping, or watching the second movie instead of the tv version. The first half of the series is just really strong to me, so I’m just gonna talk about that a little bit and then go to bed I guess.

The art and sound is so fucking good in gurren lagann holy shit. Everything is so springy and malleable, and the mechs are just really big people who are equally malleable and expressive. The characters are all unique and fun, even random background characters in the villages are strong. The use of that very specific light green color that spiral energy has begins with this show, and trigger would forever try and fail to use it as well as gurren lagann did, though LWA uses it pretty well. Every little thing feels so right that I’m just amazed the show keeps up such quality for the whole first half...

EXCEPT THAT ONE EPISODE WHERE IT FUCKING DOESN’T

Along with always assuming gurren lagann isn’t as good as I remember, I also somehow manage to forgot how absolutely miserable the fourth episode is. Not to say that i forget it’s bad at all, i couldn’t forget that episode 4 sticks out as a really not good episode and bring it up as a weird point of contention for the series, but watching it again it’s really baffling how awful it is.

The visuals just fall apart, the shots are lazy and don’t read well, the animation is choppy and unpleasant, the characters look really stupid, and the newly introduced characters never get any proper cuts to introduce themselves with and make a good impression. The voice actors also don’t seem quite as into it as with the other episodes, presumably because they had to watch episode 4 while voicing it, and couldn’t feel the same energy the rest of the show has. 

I can really only assume it was an outsourced episode or something to that effect, and near the end, when gurren laganns absolutely kino combination cuts that would be reused for the next few episodes are first shown, it becomes even more jarring how bad the fight afterwards looks, and how bad the episode is in general. It’s a shame that such a good show has to have such a sudden and massive drop in quality, but it’s interesting in it’s own way.

KAMINA THOUGH

While i did say i’m not as into the kind of character simon becomes in the second half, kamina himself is still undeniably a strong character, and I always appreciate how dopey and unmanly his face is despite being the embodiment of excessive fighting spirit, rash thinking, and unapologetic horniness.

Another strong kamina related thing that always hits me right in the feels is the episode titles, which for the first 8 episodes, are all lines that Simon hears kamina say at some point, which comes is used as a really strong twist, when in episode 8, kamina’s last words are used as the episode title, and not presented as the title until the viewer already knows the meaning of those last few words. From there the episode titles become things Nia says until episode 15 where simon is finally able to step up to his destiny and say his own damn episode title, but Kamina really does get the most out of such a simple concept.

Related to Kamina, I really enjoy how the very very first part of the show sets up episode 8′s strength even more. Besides being a really weird segment where simons voice and design are kind of off and dai gurren’s design isn’t quite finished and also boota is a dude, it sets up the concept of “The man who has yet to realize his own destiny” before introducing simon. The show doesn’t do anything to hide the fact that this “man” is simon, but also never clearly states it, so it’s not hard to understand people who gravitated towards kamina more and assumed that kamina would have a great destiny. Many episodes began or ended with a statement from the narrator saying that “the man” still was not aware of his own destiny, until episode 8, where the narrator claims  “Now the man will realize his destiny”, and before the episode is over, Kamina is gone, and without every stating it, the identity of “the man” becomes clear in a rather brutal process of elimination. Another minor aspect to how gurren lagann builds itself up so well.

Only other thing i really have to say about it is I still really appreciate stories where the protagonist steals things from the villains to grow stronger, or just generally makes use of things his enemies used, creating their own style out of disparate pieces. I hope to make a strong case for that kind of stuff when I can finish more of my comic. Read my comic.

And, as always, if you read all this shit you’re cool and we can be friends. We won’t be, but we could be, and that’s nice to think about sometimes. Have a wonderful night.

[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP - 40: If I'm Not Made For You Then Why Does My Heart Tell Me That I Am?

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net  -  AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38; Chapter 39

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: This chapter... I'm incredibly curious about the reactions! It contains more scenes that have been planned for nearly a year, some were even already written out since November! And... well, I hope that I'm able to get across what's important for me in this chapter. I'll see...

Also, in November, I posted a small spoiler on Tumblr. I was asked to put a warning for when that spoiler would come into play, so that's what I'm going to do now. THIS is the chapter where that spoiler line comes up.

This week's title comes from the song If You're Not The One by Daniel Bedingfield. Ever since this song first came out, it's been one of my all-time-favourites. But it actually took me a while to discover how well it fits this story, especially at this point. I admit that, in the end, it even inspired an additional scene near the end of this chapter. You'll see what I mean.

. o O o .

“Eret? Do you want to marry me?”

After she’d realised what Snotlout was doing, Astrid had wondered about that insanity for a couple of days now. His behaviour had become more obvious – and more obnoxious – with every time they met, and by now, it was impossible for her to pretend it wasn't happening.

He was flirting with her. There really was no other way to describe it, and even though she'd always thought fondly of him, she now couldn't help but cringe whenever she saw him. A part of her wondered how other women before her had endured and even enjoyed his attention – but she also recognised how different his behaviour toward her was from how he'd acted toward others. He was so sure, overconfident even. He obviously knew about the King's wish of her marrying one of the ducal heirs and seemed to think that advertising himself like this would make her choose him.

But did he really want to marry her? She still couldn't believe it, couldn't even think about it without dismay. How could one of her brothers want to marry her? No matter how long she thought about it, it made no sense, and eventually she acknowledged that thinking on her own wouldn’t get her anywhere.

Meeting Eret had been pure chance but a welcome distraction. It was early in the morning, hours before today's tournament would begin, and she'd wanted to enjoy at least a small sense of freedom by taking a walk over the castle's grounds. Now, they sat near Lake Vola, with Tuff acting as chaperone from a distance, and enjoyed both the peace and the comfort. But she didn’t want to waste such an opportunity.

At her question, Eret, who was lying on a sunny but likely not-entirely-dry patch of grass next to the low stone wall where she sat, cracked one eye open and tilted his head to throw her a funny look.  After a moment, he returned to his former relaxed position though, eyes closed and head resting on his arms behind his head. “You know, Swanja… In your current position, you should be careful with a question like this,” he said, sounding utterly unperturbed. “One might think you just proposed to me.”

Astrid rolled her eyes and made a half-annoyed and half-amused noise. Eret would know better, after all. “Don’t be daft. You know what I mean.”

Sighing, he turned his head to look at her in earnest. “Yes, I know what you mean. But the answer is not as easy as the question.”

Astrid wanted to snort. She'd fully expected Eret would laugh and answer with a resolute ‘No!’. He had to be joking, right? Because it was insane and impossible and… and…

Except that he didn’t look as if he was joking.

He seemed to notice her bafflement, because he sighed once more and made himself comfortable again before he gave her an explanation. “I see that’s not the answer you’ve expected,” he began, strangely quiet. “And I’ll admit I didn’t expect to have this kind of talk today. But it’s better than not talking about it, I guess…” He paused, gazing into the light blue sky overhead as if it was the most interesting piece of art he’d ever seen. “I’m not in love with you, if that’s what you meant,” he eventually went on. “That hasn’t changed.”

Astrid nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. They’d already been through that three years ago, after all. After Thuggory’s constant teasing over the span of one summer about how close they were and what a cute couple they would make, they’d almost believed it themselves. What followed had been a few awkward days of blushing, of averting eyes and stiff conversations – until they’d decided to put their feelings to the test. They’d kissed, the whole program with gazing into each other’s eyes and cradled faces, with lips and tongues. And then, they had decided that was definitely not what was between them.

Thinking back, the thought made her smirk inwardly. Kissing Eret had felt weird, unnatural. Not really unpleasant, if she was honest; just… not right. And now, comparing that kiss back then with how it had felt to kiss–

Stop right there!

“So, you don’t want to marry me?” she asked, mainly to force her thoughts into another direction. She couldn’t think about that, not now. Not ever again.

“I… didn’t say that,” Eret muttered, still refusing to look at her.

He wasn’t making any sense. “What do you want then?” The question came out more aggressive than intended, but Astrid wasn’t in the mood for beating around the bush, not now, not after everything. She was tired, having cried for almost the entire night again, tired of the games, tired of the verbal dancing and indirect responses. By Thor, she was going to get a straight answer out of someone, even if she had to shake it out of them!

“What I want...” Eret scoffed. “Since when does it matter what anyone of us wants?” He sighed again, shaking his head, and Astrid knew all too well how he felt… “If it were about doing what we want, Dagur and I would just… leave. We’d go, and start a simple life somewhere far away.” Now, Eret threw her a wary glance, as if to see how she would react. But even though the words surprised her, Astrid was beyond showing any reactions, especially not emotionally, and after a minute of silence, Eret continued in a softer tone.

“We’ve even talked it through, you know? What we’d do if we had the options… We’d go somewhere remote where people wouldn’t know who we are. We’d approach the local lord, get a land tenancy, settle down. Build a paddock for a couple of horses and a garden, maybe an orchard. I’d earn us some money by breeding and breaking in horses for the locals, and Dagur would distil his own alcohol from the fruits in our garden.” He chuckled weakly. “It would be a simple life, without much luxury to speak of. Calm.”

Astrid swallowed. “That sounds beautiful,” she whispered. Eret's words reminded her of other plans, other ‘what if's’…

Quickly, she again shook those thoughts off and concentrated on Eret and his words again. On how they puzzled her. She’d always thought Eret and Dagur wouldn’t mind becoming the next Grand Dukes.

“Right?” Eret agreed, but then shook his head. “But it’s nothing but idle dreams. We can’t just drop our responsibilities and leave our homelands in such a chaos. We wouldn’t want to do that. Lavo would become Head of House Jag’r, and while he’s a good man, he’s certainly not a good leader. And House Berserker… If Dagur doesn’t inherit his father’s title, Hel herself will show up down in Southshore to collect the bodies.”

Again, Astrid nodded; the precarious situation with the two Grand Dukedoms was well-known to her, after all.

Eret let out a deep breath. “But that’s not what you wanted to hear right?” He slightly shook his head, lips twisted into a grimace. “The thing is… we eventually have to marry one day. If we stayed bachelors forever, we could simply continue like now, spending time together every now and then. But for the sake of sustaining a line of heritage, we can’t inherit if we refuse to ever marry. And once we’re married…” He shrugged, and Astrid remembered the words she’d heard some nights before.

Marriage is a sacred vow, and one does not break it. I won’t turn you into an adulteress.

Astrid felt as if she couldn’t breathe, the memories like a crushing ring around her chest. But luckily, Eret didn’t seem to notice.

“You asked whether I’d even want to marry you,” he went on, suddenly sounding eerily solemn. “And the honest answer would have to be yes. Yes, I’d like to marry you. Not because I love you, and I’m sorry about that. But marrying for love has never been a real option for us, so I’d opt for the second-best choice – marrying my best friend.” He turned to give her a brief smile, but then continued to stare into the distance. “You’re my best option for a good future. I mean… I know that I won’t be the best of husbands. But unlike any other wife Father could pick for me, you at least already know that. You know that I won’t be your ardent lover. You wouldn’t be disappointed or angry. Or at least I hope you wouldn’t be.” He swallowed, and when he continued to speak, finally looking at her after all, he sounded incredibly vulnerable.

“If you were to choose me, Swanja, then I can promise you that I’d be a good and loyal partner to you. We’d live a happy life together. I won’t be your lover, but I'd be your partner, your friend. I’d do my best to hopefully be a good father to our children, and I’m certain I’d treat you better than most of your other suitors. And... and the same goes for Dagur, if you were to choose him.”

It seemed like Eret was waiting for a reaction, but Astrid was unable to speak, stunned. He was serious!

Eventually, he exhaled a deep breath, and pushed himself up on his legs. With his back turned toward her, he said, “I do love you, Swanja, just not like that. And I want you to be happy. If… if you have someone else in mind, someone you want to choose for yourself... then by all means, please do so. Neither Dagur nor I want you to be miserable for our sake. We will all go our way, one way or the other. But know that we are an option, and hopefully not the worst there is. I’d be happy and proud to bring you back to Eastervale as my wife, and I dare say that living at our stud farm would suit you.”

And with these words, he left her.

For she couldn’t say how long, Astrid sat on that low wall, eyes unseeingly cast over the lake's calm surface, as tears ran down her cheeks in never-ending streams. Gods, she was such an idiot, had only thought of her own problems.

But Eret was right… For all her life, she’d been prepared for a loveless political marriage. And yes, if she couldn’t marry the man she loved…

...then her best friend would certainly be a good second choice.

. o O o .

For once, she didn't need to ponder endlessly. In fact, it was more as if she’d known what to do for a long while already without being able to see it. But when she reached the fighting ground a couple of hours later and saw him hustling about among the other squires and, as always, not even once glancing in her direction… it all became crystal clear. He wasn't an option anymore – and maybe never had been. She would have to pick another path, one that, hopefully, would be bearable.

She paused in her steps, pondering for one last moment, and then gestured Tuff to follow her. Instead of directly going toward her usual seat under the pavilion, she headed for the large tent where the men were getting ready for their fights. Many eyes turned toward her when she entered, confusion and anticipation in most of them, and the tent fell completely silent.

"Sir Eret?" she called out as firmly and clearly as she could manage. "May I asked you to keep me company today?"

Eret met her eyes with an unreadable look, but nodded after a seemingly endless heartbeat. “Of course, your Highness.” He took off his heavy gloves and handed them, his helmet, and his sword to his squier before following her. And not even now, he would look at her.

Astrid’s lips twitched, but she quickly turned away, and, with Eret at her side, made her way toward her pavilion.

At first, they sat in heavy silence, but eventually, Eret audibly cleared his throat. “Are you sure about this, Swanja?” he asked in a subdued voice.

He didn’t need to elaborate; the meaning of his words was clear enough to her. Her inviting one or more of her suitors to sit with her during the tournament when they weren’t fighting was something she was allowed to do. Without a doubt, it was considered an honour, but the fact that she had never bestowed it on anyone before made her singling out Eret now even more noticeable. She could practically feel the countless eyes on them, could hear the hushed whispers all around the arena. But she didn’t care for any gossip her action might start. She’d never cared about the rumours they’d caused by acting like a couple. At least this time the rumours would be true.

She swallowed, and, unable to meet Eret’s eyes, instead gazed down at her hands in her lap. “You were right,” she whispered. “Marrying for love has never been a real option for either of us. So I’m going to pick the option with the best prospect of happiness and follow the path everyone apparently wants me to take anyway.” Now, she looked up after all and threw him a tentative smile. At least, she wouldn’t have to pretend with Eret. They weren’t in love and never would be. But they would give each other comfort and that had to be enough.

He returned her smile and, as if to prove her thoughts right, reached for her gloved hand and squeezed it. It made her smile turn a shade brighter. Yes, they didn’t love each other. But friendship was a good basis for marriage too, right?.

They watched the first rounds of the melee without saying anything more. Five times, ten men entered the arena and fought until nine had either been knocked prone, unconscious, or had a wound sufficient to spatter the grass with blood. Snot’s turn was in the second round, and he won without any difficulties, sending his opponents sprawling or bashing their faces in so that their noses bled freely onto the grass. There was something to his boasting after all, Astrid reminded herself as he blew her a kiss across the arena before he left it. Growing up in Westhill had turned him into a better fighter than most.

Then it was Eret’s and Dagur’s turn to fight, and it wasn’t until she saw the other eight fighters all ganging up on them that she realised what her open act of favouring Eret had done. Now he had a target on his back, and more than once she gasped or froze when one fighter launched at him. People died in these tournaments! What if someone managed to injure, maybe even kill him, just to get him out of the way? It would be her fault, and hers alone.

She watched the fight with more attention than she had before – and also with a fair bit of anxiety. But her worries were unfounded... for now at least. With Dagur and Eret fighting back to back, the other men had no chance and when it was only the two of them left, they shared a look, a handshake, and then Dagur went to his knee, placing his weapon to Eret’s feet.

The sight made her throat tighten even further. To everyone else watching, it would look like Dagur forfeiting to the Princess’s favourite, probably in hopes of gaining her good will for the future. But Astrid knew it was more than that. So much more… It wasn’t just Dagur giving the victory of this melee to his friend. It was him freely giving up his lover, giving in to the inevitable without struggling and without hard feelings. He knew that he’d lost, and what he’d lost, on the altar of the Kingdom’s Hel-spawned politics. If Astrid would have had any tears left, she’d have cried.

When Eret returned to her after being cleaned up and his armour having been removed, he seemed weaker and more beaten than the fight alone would explain. This time, it was she who placed her hand on his lower arm, in an attempt to comfort him but also to apologise. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled weakly.

She was relieved when Eret placed his hand over hers and asked, “For what?”

“For everything. For making you a target and… and for…” She didn’t dare to phrase the rest, to mention Dagur. Her pavilion offered a certain amount of privacy so that she didn’t expect anyone to overhear their low conversation, but that wasn’t the point anyway. She didn’t want to hurt Eret further.

He hissed out a low and unamused laugh, almost a pained groan, but gave her a reassuring smile nonetheless. “Don’t worry,” he replied. “We always knew it couldn’t last. And as for the target… You don’t need to worry about that either. It’s not that much different than before. They always knew me, Dag, and Snot where your most likely choices, so not that much changed now. Besides, as much as they want to see me defeated… well, let’s just say that my status still offers a certain amount of protection. They wouldn’t dare to attack one of us for real, simply out of fear of repercussions.”

Astrid nodded, but only felt slightly eased by his words. There had been too many accidents already. “I hope you’re right,” she sighed. “And… and I hope this wasn’t the wrong decision – for both our sakes.”

He squeezed her hand once more and scooted a little closer to her. It was weird in a way how easy it was to just continue their usual comfortable closeness under these strangest of circumstances. But then, that was part of why she’d made this decision. She knew Eret, knew that they got along. There’d never been any real shyness or awkwardness between them, and she was relieved that that hadn’t changed.

“We’ll see,” he eventually replied. “But at least we know that Daniel will be pleased.”

There was a certain bitterness in Eret’s voice at these words, one that made her frown in confusion. “What makes you think that?” So far, she hadn’t spent much time thinking about Daniel, not beyond the burning pain she felt over his betrayal.

Eret snorted, and made a vague waving gesture between the two of them. “Well, this is what he wanted, what he’d planned for all along.”

“He… what?”

Now, Eret grimaced, but also noticeably put in an effort to stay calm as he explained. “Oh, he didn’t tell me anything, in case you were wondering,” he scoffed with the same bitter tone as before. “But after that announcement on your birthday and realising that he knew about all this… it started to make sense, you know? A while ago, he became strangely gloomy from one day to the other, and there were so many things he said before he left, things that made me wonder what was on his mind. It all started a few days after Dagur’s accolade. The day we first went to meet Cami, remember?”

Astrid sucked in a breath at those words, but instantly shut her mind down. No, no, no. She didn’t want to remember that day, couldn’t bear it. The first night they’d talk more openly, the first time he’d touched her…

Her hands were trembling, but if Eret noticed, he didn’t react. He just went on with his explanation, suppressed anger tinting his voice, and she was grateful for the distraction.

“Daniel was supposed to come with us, but was forced to cancel his appointment when he received a note. I don’t know what it was about, but it was then when he changed. Late that night, we met him in the corridors. He wouldn’t tell us what bothered him, only that we would learn about it soon enough, that it was better if we didn’t know right away… and that he ‘very much counts on my loyalty for all this to end well’. I didn’t know what he meant back then, but now… And there were other comments, too. Like how he asked me to keep an eye on you until he comes back from Westhill. Or how he blatantly asked us whether we could imagine getting married anytime soon when we all went to the tavern that last night.” He swallowed thickly. “All those small things came back to me lately, but they only started to make sense when… when I talked to Hiccup the other day. Apparently, Daniel told him that he was hoping for us to marry. That we would be good for each other.”

At the mention of his name, Astrid’s mind turned numb out of sheer reflex, but there was still a small functioning part that registered what Eret was telling her. That Daniel apparently hadn’t been happy about this plan and that he’d hoped for her to find comfort and solace with Eret, her best friend. A sob tore itself from her body, making her shiver and tremble, and this time, Eret noticed. His hand around hers tightened, offering her comfort from amidst his own pain and sending a wave of gratitude through her hurting soul.

They didn’t speak much more until the tournament was over, but the companionable silence was proof enough to her. Living with Eret would be effortless. It would be good. Not what either of them truly wanted but better than the alternatives

Daniel had been right, she realised with a grimace. She and Eret were good for each other, the best option they had to ever live a somewhat happy life. Even with how betrayed she felt, she still couldn’t shake off a budding sense of gratefulness that her brother had at least planned this far. And he couldn’t have known better, after all. Daniel didn’t know about the feelings Eret and Dagur had for each other, didn’t know about her and… and… him. He didn’t know how much pain this solution brought to so many people he cared about. But he was right in that it still was the best solution they had.

When the tournament was over, she accompanied Eret back to the tent. She’d meant to directly move on to her own rooms, to get ready for tonight’s dinner. She expected it to be an awkward meal, with the older man congratulating them and the younger all suffering. Idly, she wondered how Snot would behave now, but quickly decided that she didn’t care.

Especially not when someone else stepped into their path all of a sudden.

Nervously biting her lip, she met Dagur’s gaze, expecting to see hurt and pain or maybe anger in his eyes. He, too, had been hurt by this development after all. But he, who always wore his heart on his sleeve, now wouldn’t let his feelings show. He made a hesitant step toward her, even had a small smile on his face, and pulled her into one of his usual bear hugs once Eret had let go of her arm.

Overwhelmed, she clutched at his back, and couldn’t keep herself from sobbing into his tunic. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered against his shoulder. “So, so, sorr–”

“Shh, shh, it’s all right, little sis,” he interrupted her in an equally low voice. “I wasn’t expecting anything else. And I won’t embarrass either of us by asking you to make him happy, but… But I’m asking you to both be happy, okay? As happy as you can be.”

She sobbed again and for a heartbeat clung even tighter to him before they let go of each other. She took a step away when Dagur turned to Eret next, giving them a bit of privacy, when she noticed another figure standing a few steps behind Dagur.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t move. He only looked at her with those incredibly green eyes of his, really looked at her for the first time in days. It made her freeze, with only a fleeting thought about how Dagur and Eret hopefully would be too occupied with each other to pay them any attention. She held his gaze and tried to convey what she felt. Not her pain, but an apology. The apology for, finally and ultimately, betraying their bond and turning down every plan they might have had. She expected to receive some form of pained accusation in return, but none of that happened.

Instead, he just stood there, a weak smile around his lips that wouldn’t reach his eyes, and nodded.

. o O o .

That night, Astrid stayed awake for a long time, but in opposition to past nights, she didn’t cry. She felt too empty for that. Her eyes were fixed on the wooden figurine in her hands, the one that resembled Markor and that he had given her.

“It’s not much, I suppose. But it’s something… personal? Something to remember me by when I can’t be here with you anymore.”

His words rang clear and true through her mind, but for once the pain didn’t hit her as hard as she’d expected. ‘...when I can’t be here with you anymore...’ He’d only meant the months of separation, but now, it felt so much more relevant. Without her help, her hand wandered to her chest, the other caressing over the smooth wood. No matter how much she wished it would be otherwise, she could still feel his warmth in her chest; even though the blazing inferno had simmered down like a glowing coal. A reminder of the former fire that would never extinguish.

“I will always love you, Hiccup,” she whispered into the darkness of the night. It was a last confession before she stowed the wooden figurine away into her treasure coffer. “Goodbye, my love.”

Then she went to bed, determined to move on. From now on, she wouldn’t let herself be in pain all the time anymore. Her mind and soul were so frail and thin by now; more pain would eventually break her apart. So she clung to the only solace left to her. She would be Eret’s bride now, and… and it was good that way. The only path she could take.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep – even as the small part deep inside her was still screaming. And she couldn’t make it stop.

. o O o .

Hiccup hadn’t expected for the pain to be this unrelenting. He’d expected that it would take time, time before he could even consider getting over her. He had expected that seeing her at Eret’s side, her arm wound through his and their obvious closeness, wouldn’t exactly help either. But the reality was so much worse. No matter how many days had passed or how often he’d seen them together since her open preference during that tournament, it was still like sharp pokes to an open wound. Over and over he told himself that it was good, that it was better this way, the best he could hope for for her. And it was! He knew that it was the truth. In Eret’s presence, she was less tense, at least a little more at ease.

But it hurt!

Because he remembered the time, not too long ago, when all he’d wanted was to be the one to make her happy one day, and the constant reminder of how that would never happen felt like getting stabbed over and over and over again.

Every time he felt her presence or spotted her amidst the crowd, all he wanted was to tear out his heart in the hopes that it would make the pain go away. There was a voice in his head that was constantly screaming at him, “Wrong, wrong, wrong. This is wrong, all of it!”, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t smother it. It was tearing him apart.

The worst were the nights. When he was laid out on the couch in Eret’s rooms, so close to where she was, under the same roof and on the same floor even, and yet unable to ever be with her again, he felt the full weight of their loss. It pressed down on his chest like someone sitting there and keeping him from breathing. More than once, he’d caught himself idly playing with her key, which he still wore around his neck on a simple leather cord. He’d thought about taking it off multiple times already but he’d never found the strength to actually do so. He knew that he should, that holding on to it was only his weakness of not being able to fully let her go. It was him clinging to some elusive hope that only kept cutting and hurting him over and over again. Occasionally, he even caught himself getting up, a half-baked plan to sneak through the corridors and into her rooms in his sleepy mind. If only he could see her, talk to her, hold her one more time. Odin, he would do everything if only it meant they would get another chance.

But there was nothing for him to do.

All he could do was watching her attend one event after the other, with Eret always at her side, and remind himself that this was the only way for her to be happy.

. o O o .

“Ah, good evening, Sir Eret,” Fyrir Mala greeted them as they entered Freya’s Temple a few days later. “Sir Dagur, Lord Hiccup. Welcome. You can go right through to Cami’s rooms; she’s already waiting for you.” She nodded at them all with a friendly smile which they all returned dutifully – even as neither of them truly felt like smiling.

More than anything else, Hiccup felt weird to be here again, even though he probably should have seen it coming. Eret’s and Dagur’s days were numbered, so it wasn't really a surprise that they'd wanted to ‘visit Cami’ as long as they could. And of course, they’d invited him to come along too, just like they’d always done. They didn’t know about his own pain after all.

But right now he dreaded the thought of Cami and interacting with her, of the conversations that would inevitably come up. Of how unexpected it was that they were all still here after all, of the latest developments in Eret's life… and her usual questions after his lady love once Eret and Dagur retreated. Because he didn't feel strong enough to lie, to make up some tale about how they enjoyed the reprieve, no, certainly not. Instead, he felt brittle, as if he'd break apart and crumble at even the slightest nudge. He’d even welcome that over the constant pain.

But of course, he wouldn’t simply fall apart and stop existing. There was no way to escape the inevitable.

“Oh, dear Freya!” Cami exclaimed as soon as they entered her rooms and the door closed behind them. She threw herself around Eret’s and Dagur’s necks, pulling them into a tight hug. “I’ve heard what happened, of course I have. And… I know everyone else would deem congratulations in order–” she pulled Eret a little tighter “–but I’m so sorry! For both of you. How are you feeling?”

Carefully but firmly, Dagur and Eret pried themselves out of her arms. They looked miserable and Hiccup was once more reminded of how he wasn’t the only one in pain. As much as he might want to hate Eret for having everything Hiccup wanted – he just couldn’t. Eret was as much a victim of this entire scheme as he and she were, and he was suffering from it too.

“What do you think how we feel?” Dagur asked, noticeably missing his usual joyfulness. “Even with always knowing that it would eventually come to this, it’s…” he broke off, and turned away from them, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Hiccup almost expected he’d turn away further when Eret stepped toward him to place his hand on his lover’s shoulder. But instead, Dagur sighed, relaxed, and leaned into the touch, and Hiccup couldn’t help but look away at their moment of intimacy. Yes, they were both suffering just like him.

“I’m sorry,” Cami said again, sounding truly miserable, but Eret cut her off directly.

“It’s all right. Dag’s right, we knew it couldn’t last. All we can do now is make the best of it.”

“I sure hope you do,” Dagur threw back, an odd mixture of sadness, joking, and sincerity in his voice. “If I hear only one complaint from Swanja about you, I’m going to come and rip off your head!”

Eret chuckled, if a little strained. “Hey, I already tried to do her a favour by convincing her father to arrange that ride tomorrow. I mean, it can’t be long with the ball in the evening, and it won’t be a fast ride either with her having to use this horrible side saddle and at least some members of the party not being experienced riders. But I still think it’s better than nothing. Or I hope so, at least.” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m holding you on to that promise, just so you know. Making sure she’s happy will be my highest priority from now on.”

Eret’s reply made them share a weak but true smile, and even with how numb and hollow Hiccup felt, he still was grateful for the reminder that they did care about her. She was in good hands. That was all that mattered.

“Anyway,” Eret went on. “Before we leave you alone, I wanted to thank you, Cami. For taking our request for an appointment on such a short notice. It’ll probably be the last time anyway.”

She gave him a comforting smile. “Of course. I’ll always have time for you.” Then she frowned. “But why do you think it’ll be the last? It’s still over six weeks until the wedding.”

“Aye.” Eret shrugged. “But the betrothal will become official in two weeks already, and me coming here after that won’t be regarded with any form of leniency. And then there’s the ball tomorrow night. Even with it just being meant as an entertaining diversion, her choice of partner for the opening dance will still be regarded as her making an unofficial choice.” He shook his head, a despondent expression on his face. “No, this will be the last time we come here. It has to be.”

Again, Hiccup had to avert his gaze – to give them privacy when it now was Dagur’s turn to comfort Eret, but mostly to hide his reaction to Eret’s words. He’d effectively pushed aside every thought of this, but he was right. After tomorrow night, she would be considered betrothed to Eret, no matter how unofficially. The thought gave him a new sting, and he almost laughed in surprise at how his heart could still hurt more.

“I see,” Cami sighed. “Well, then off with you two. If you want, we can talk more later. I hope you can enjoy this night as much as possible.”

They didn’t need another invitation and only seconds later, Hiccup was alone with Cami. And no matter how painful the previous conversation had already been… What came next would be worse.

“So, and what’s up with you?” she asked in a noticeably more cheerful tone. “I get why they are so depressed, but I honestly didn’t expect that from you too, not even out of sympathy.”

With his lips pressed into a thin line, Hiccup ignored her words and walked past her to where wine and glasses were already standing ready for them on the small table. He poured himself a glass and downed it in one. Maybe the alcohol would make enduring this easier. Behind him, Cami said his name, clearly confused, but he kept ignoring her. It was only after he’d nearly emptied his second glass of wine before she more firmly demanded an answer.

“Hiccup, what’s up with you?” Her hand was on his arm, keeping him from turning away as she stepped in front of him. “After our last conversation about how much you and your lady love dreaded the separation, I thought you’d be happy about this postponement.”

Snorting, he turned his head away from her anyway. Right… Oh, how much they’d hope for just any way for them to not have to part. Once again he thought about how the prospect of being separated for weeks and months had felt like the worst that could happen to them. How foolish and naive they’d been. And how much he’d give to return to those times…

“Hiccup?”

This time, Cami sounded worried, and almost despite his own will, he turned to look at her. And even though he’d sworn to himself to lock his pain deep inside him, to never let anyone see… right now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Hiccup, what happened?” she gasped when his mask crumbled away to reveal his pain. She pulled at his arm until he sat down in one of her chairs. “You look… horrible. Gods, did something happen to her? Is she alright? What–”

“She’s fine,” he mumbled, if only to keep her from worrying further. And it was true, wasn’t it? Physically, she was fine...

For a short while, Cami was quiet, watching him closely. “What is it then?” she eventually asked, softly. “You seemed so sure, but… Did you two break up?”

Again, he snorted. “In a way,” he mumbled, remembering the conversations they’d had, at the stables on her birthday and at the armoury on the day after. They had broken up, even as that phrase sounded too weak to describe what happened. Once more, pain flooded his mind and body, and he reached again for the wine, refilling his glass and taking a big gulp. Why couldn’t he turn numb already?

“Why?” Cami probed, and no matter how gentle that one word had been, it still felt like a sting, as if it had torn a hole into his thin layer of protection. From one heartbeat to the other, he wasn’t able to hold back any longer.

“Because she’ll marry someone else!” he burst out, eyes stinging. “Not by choice, but what does that matter? In six weeks, she’ll get married to Eret, and there’s nothing we can do. I lost her.”

There, he’d said it. And now, the desired numbness sat in with full force. He slumped down in his chair, too weak to even hold his head up anymore. For the first time in almost two weeks, tears were welling up in his eyes and he didn’t even try to hold them back. It didn't matter. He’d lost her, forever, and now nothing mattered anymore.

He wasn’t sure how long it took Cami to react again. He was dimly aware of her staring at him with wide eyes and her jaw dropped, but he just didn’t care...

“The Princess,” she eventually whispered, and a tiny sarcastic part of his mind wanted to applaud her. After so many weeks of her trying to pry for any information about his lady love, she now knew. So what? It wasn’t as if things could get worse. “You… are you trying to tell me that this girl you talked about, the one you spent nearly every night with, and who I encouraged you to introduce to sex was the Princess?”

All Hiccup could do was nod weakly, but it seemed to be enough for Cami.

“Are you insane?” she nearly shrieked. “The Princess? H-how… how did that even happen? And what were you thinking? You said you were certain to marry her one day, but… But she’s the Princess, for fuck’s sake. Everyone knew that she would marry for an alliance one day, even she. What in Loki’s name made you believe you could circumvent that?”

Hiccup groaned. Every single one of her words felt like another blow to his battered soul. Yes, they really had been stupid to hope and to dream, hadn’t they? But it had all felt so real…

For a few minutes, Cami went on with her tirade, scolding him, but after a while, it stopped affecting him. He couldn’t take any more, and he also understood that by now, this was more Cami venting out her shock than anything else. Eventually, she stopped, and a heavy silence covered them like a blanket.

“We thought it would work,” he eventually murmured into the silence. “We were so sure… Because… because it had to work…” He could feel that Cami didn’t understand though. And how could she? If he listened to himself now, it barely made any sense to him either. Except… “She and I… we share a bond, one that I can still feel even now when all hope is lost. And we thought… If the Gods bound us like that, doesn’t that mean that we will be together? That it’s our inevitable fate? Isn’t that part of what being soulmates means?” He shook his head, the hopelessness of everything once more crashing down on him.

“Oh, Hiccup…” Cami reached out her hand, hesitated visibly, but then placed it onto his arm after all. “I… I don’t doubt that you thought you’d be soulmates. There are many young couples so madly in love that they feel like that. But… but true soulbonds are rare. So rare that I haven’t even heard of a true one happening in the last thirty years or so. I’m sorry, but… but that wasn’t real.”

Hiccup groaned. He’d known that this would be the most likely reaction to them ever telling anyone. But it still stung to hear her say it. She was wrong, though, he knew that deep in his heart. What he and she shared, that was real. Wasn’t it? “I don’t believe you,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, Hiccup. But… Let’s think this through. If yours was a true soulbond… then you would have been right. Nothing on Midgard can keep apart what the Gods forged together – not even a King’s decision. So how can you be soulmates when, as you all pointed out, she will marry Eret instead? Her decision falls tomorrow at the ball. Not officially, but binding enough. What made you even believe your bond would be true?”

Almost against his will, his hand wandered to his chest. He could still feel her heartbeat and that spark of her soul deep within him. How could that not be real? But he couldn’t make Cami feel what he felt, so he had to try and put it into words. “I… just know it’s true,” he explained in a whisper. “I can feel her, even now. Right here. And… and I felt her before, too. You remember how she got attacked shortly before Midwinter? I was miles away from her then, asleep at the outer stables. But I still felt her anxiety – her fear and her pain – strong enough to wake me up. There is a bond between us, a connection,” he insisted. Cami still didn’t look convinced though, so he tried to think of what else to tell her. “And we had visions! Well, one vision, but it was the same for both of us. We saw the same thing: our future together in a small house, me coming home after a journey, and she and our son greeting me at the door. That was real!”

In what was probably meant as a comforting gesture, Cami squeezed his arm. “I don’t doubt that you believe that,” she repeated her words from earlier, sighing. “But that doesn’t change the facts, Hiccup. She will marry Eret, as it had always been meant to be. Your bond can’t be real.”

. o O o .

Until deep into the night – with Eret and Dagur still not having returned from the temple – Hiccup kept pondering over Cami’s words.

They made no sense.

He knew, without a doubt, that their bond was real. Vividly, he remembered how her fears had reached him even though he’d had no idea that something had been wrong. He hadn’t made that up. And it was the same with their vision. They both had seen the same future without even knowing each other. That hadn’t been a coincidence. It can’t have been!

No, their bond was real. The longer he thought about it now, staring at the decorated ceiling above him, the clearer it became to him. It wasn’t just a fluke or a pipe dream. It couldn’t be.

But if Cami was right and nothing could ever overcome a true soulbond, what did that mean in return? Did that mean that… that there was still hope after all?

The mere idea made Hiccup’s heart stutter painfully. Had he given up too soon? Should he have fought for her after all? But how? If only he knew what to do. He’d do everything for her, whatever it would take.

The facts remained the same though. He couldn’t think of a solution, no chance, no way for them to be together. And he was running out of time. If there was something he could do then what was it?

So what if Cami had been right after all and he was chasing nothing but a dream. Was it possible that they’d interpreted too much into their feelings? Or maybe it was something else entirely, something he’d thought about before and that Cami hadn’t mentioned. Not even a King’s decision could overrule the Gods’ will, she’d said. But what if the Gods changed their mind? Was it possible that them getting intimate had angered them enough to part them again?

Groaning, he covered his face with his hands. All this pondering wasn’t doing him any good. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about uncountable options already. But he couldn’t think of a way out and he wasn’t optimistic about getting an epiphany anytime soon either. And it would have to come soon, before tomorrow night preferably.

“Please,” he murmured a prayer into the darkness of the empty room. “Please, if it is your wish that we are together then send me a sign. I’d do everything for her, but I need your help. Is there still hope for us? What can I do?”

But it didn’t seem as if the Gods had heard him, or maybe they just didn’t care. There was no sudden lightning strike, no foreign voice speaking in his mind, nothing. For over an hour, he kept pondering and wondering before sleep eventually overcame him.

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

He found himself in a forest that he didn’t recognize. Pine, fir, some oak, with light underbrush. Nearby, a mighty tree had fallen in some years past, and there was a cluster of saplings reaching up towards the gap and the light, with blackberry bushes around them. He noticed that he had a heavy basket in hand, filled with the berries, and without thinking, he set off down the well-beaten path behind him. Birds fluttered around in the air above him and he heard squirrels and woodpeckers hard at work.

Then he emerged into a clearing, and the moment Hiccup recognised the small but neat house with a garden of flowers, vegetables, and herbs around it, he knew that he was dreaming. He’d only seen this place once before, and just for a fleeting moment, but it was enough. His heart was beating furiously as his feet led him closer. If this was the same like the last time, then there should be the noise of a barking dog at any moment and then the door would open to…

But this was not a repetition of the vision he’d had some months ago, he realised. There was no barking dog, not even when he reached the still-closed door. He waited, and when nothing happened he lifted his hand to open it himself. It was locked though, so he knocked instead, eager to see her. Maybe indulging in this dream wasn’t a wise idea, but he honestly didn’t care. He only wanted to see her…

But still, the door didn’t open. Instead, he heard a voice in his head, old and gnarled somehow.

I am locked.

With a start, he looked around, but there was nobody. Shaking his head in puzzlement, he knocked again but had no time to even wait for a reaction from inside when the voice spoke again.

Still locked.

Somehow, it sounded amused this time, and finally the words started to make sense, even as nothing else did. But this was a dream, Hiccup reminded himself. Things didn’t need to make sense…

“Can… can you open up for me?” He felt stupid talking to a wooden door, but it also felt weirdly right.

The voice in his mind chuckled. No, I can’t do that.

Hiccup’s shoulders slumped. He had the strong feeling that this was more than just an ordinary dream. The answer to his questions was inside this little house, their future home. But if he couldn’t get inside, then–

But you can open me.

Hiccup blinked and reflexively tried to open the door again. But it wouldn’t budge, only rattled a bit. “No, I can’t. You’re locked.”

Don’t you have a key?

“No, I don’t. Why would–” he broke off when the door’s voice again chuckled in his mind.

I think you do.

Hiccup didn’t understand. How was he supposed to have a key, either to this enchanted door or it’s future counterpart? He had no keys at all, had nothing on him except the clothes he’d fallen asleep in – the basket had vanished at some point without him noticing – and–

With a start, he scrambled for the cord around his neck. For her key.

See? the voice chuckled again, then faded away. He didn’t expect to hear it ever again.

Instead, he looked down at the key in his hand. It was bigger than in reality, sturdier, but it very clearly was the same key. With shaking fingers, he pushed it into the lock and wasn’t even surprised when it fit perfectly. With an audible click, the door unlocked and opened without his doing, revealing the person standing behind it.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she said in her usual slightly nasal voice, her blue eyes beaming and her pink lips stretched into a loving smile.

Hiccup could do nothing but stare. It was her. She was here! Joy bubbled up inside him and a wide grin stretched over his face. It might just be a dream, but still. Looking at her, openly and without having to hide anything, was balm for his soul.

“Come with me,” she said, smiling, and took his hand to lead him around the house and into the garden. It was bigger than he’d realised, with a patch of soft grass beneath an old tree where they made themselves comfortable. The branches and leaves build something like a roof above them, with only small spots of sunlight dotting the ground and dancing when the breeze caught in the tree overhead.

On their way, he took the time to look at their surroundings, her hand in his warm and reassuring. To their left, there was a stream and a little lake and to the right, he spotted the edge of the thick forest he’d come out of. Behind the building and the garden was a steep wall of solid stone that stretched to surround the clearing in a wide arc on nearly all sides except for a narrow opening somewhere in the forest. A caldera?

He shook his head, inwardly laughing at himself. Finally, he had the chance to spend time with her again, or something close to that at least, and he wasted it by looking at the scenery? Quickly, he focused on her again, on her hair, her face, the feeling of her hand in his – and frowned. Clearly, it was her, but at the same time, she was… different. He looked at her more intently, trying to pin down what exactly it was that threw him off. She certainly didn’t look the same as when he’d seen her earlier that day. She was older by some years, more grown up. Her face had lost a bit of its roundness and was more defined, her golden hair a shade or two paler. But that wasn’t what bothered him.

Somehow, she didn’t feel right. Of course, she wasn’t real, was just a product of his dream, but still there seemed to me more. She was too alive for a dream, and she was different. As if it wasn’t his soulmate at all sitting there at his side, but instead someone else.

He pushed the thought aside as something ridiculous. This was a dream. None of this was real and nothing needed to make sense. A part of him tried to convince himself that it would be better to simply wake up. It would be too easy to get lost in this fantasy and the longer he indulged in it the more it would hurt when he woke up again. But even with her not feeling right, being here in this beautiful garden with her to simply enjoy their time… it was too wonderful, and he couldn’t bring himself to even try to wake up.

She didn’t say anything, only watched him with that warm smile of hers that he loved so much as his hand cupped her cheek, his eyes taking in her achingly familiar features. He savoured every moment of the illusion of being so close to her, of feeling her warmth beneath his hand, and of the faint mayweed scent surrounding her. Even if nothing of this was real, it still felt real enough to pretend. For a few minutes, they continued like this, with him marvelling how well their hands fit together and how their soft caressing each other made him shudder, until he invited her into his embrace and she followed without a moment’s hesitation. At that moment, he didn’t care how much this dream might pain him once he woke up. Simply holding her like this was worth everything, and it only strengthened his resolve to keep fighting for her in case he ever got the chance.

“I miss you,” he murmured a good while later. It was hard to tell the passing of time, but he would say that at least an hour had passed with them simply cuddling in the comfortable grass. By now, he lay with his head cushioned in her lap, her hand carding through his hair. It felt good, so peaceful and right. He never wanted to leave again.

“I know,” she replied. “I felt your pain and I heard your plea. That’s why I came to you.”

Hiccup frowned at her odd choice of words. She’d come to him because of his plea? What plea? And how had she come to him, when this was only a dream? It didn’t make sense, unless–

“But don’t give up,” she went on, interrupting his line of thoughts. “You were right right from the beginning. Don’t give in to doubt now.”

With wide eyes, he looked up at her, at her face, beautiful as always yet with an intense, almost divine inner glow... None of this made sense, unless it wasn’t a dream after all. Was this the answer he’d asked for?

He took a deep breath to calm himself. If he was right...

“Is there still hope then?” he asked breathless yet carefully, unsure what he even was allowed to do in her presence.

Smiling, she nodded. “There is always hope.”

Hastily, he scrambled up to his knees to look at her. “Please. I… I need your advice, Oh Fair One. I don’t know what to do.”

She smiled at him, and there was no question to him that this wasn’t Astrid, for all that She wore his love’s form. “Do what comes naturally to you.”

“I... I have been,” he said, pained. “But it isn’t enough!”

“I know it feels that way,” she said, and her eyes seemed to gleam with an inner radiance, blue like the sapphires he’d once seen in a shop held up to sunlight. “Foresight is a painful gift, but We had a purpose in Our selection...”

“My Lady...” Hiccup began, and her head jerked towards him, a wry smile on his beloved’s lips.

“Yes?”

“Please. Please. It hurts so much being parted. All I want is to hold her again. Is there a way?”

She scoffed. “You are strong enough for the work ahead, although I know the path is difficult. Do Our work and know that your reward will be yours.” She motioned to the clearing and the house inside it. “Success–or failure–is entirely in your hands.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked.

“You called,” she said simply. “And in answer to your question... do you want to know? Truly? Foresight is a painful gift, as I said.”

Hiccup didn’t hesitate and knelt. “My Lady, please. You bound my heart to her. Just tell me what I must do to hold her again.”

She patted his head and said softly. “So We did. Well then. Yes, you can hold your beloved in your arms again. Soon. But first, you will end the life of someone dear to her.”

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

It was strange, Hiccup thought the next morning, how little it bothered him to prepare Crusher for Eret. Even though he was incredibly grateful Eret had rescued him, it had always pained Hiccup to tend to his father’s former stallion and to hum his mother’s lullaby to calm the beast. But today, it barely affected him at all. His mind was too occupied with that dream. That vision.

You can hold your beloved in your arms again. Soon. But first, you will end the life of someone dear to her.

She’d said that and he’d woken, and in the hours since, the words of the Goddess had continued to echo through his thoughts. There was barely anything else that registered in his mind. Every stroke down Crusher’s silken black fur and every movement to bridle and saddle him was done through pure force of habit, just like it had been with Cassie before. What did those words mean?

Was he supposed to kill someone for her? That… that seemed rather crass and he couldn’t see how that would be good for her in any way. She hated pointless deaths... Besides, he didn’t even know who. Eret maybe, so he couldn’t marry her in his stead? Or her father, in revenge for his decision and to render it useless? Or someone else entirely; Dagur, or Daniel, or someone he couldn’t even think of right now?

His heart was thrumming with hope, with the prospect of how maybe they still had a chance after all. But the circumstances were daunting, to say the least. He’d thought he was ready to do everything for this chance, but this… Could he kill someone, just out of the hope that it would somehow get them back together again? And if he could do it… Who and how and when?

The whirling thoughts in his mind made him dizzy, and he had to sit down for a minute. More out of reflex, he rubbed his twinging leg as he gazed into the distance with unseeing eyes. End the life of someone dear to her… Was this really what he had to do? Or had he just imagined it all, had it been nothing but a dream made up by his desperation? Gods, he couldn’t even trust his own mind anymore!

His hand wandered to his chest, feeling for the key and her warmth beneath. Last night, in that dream or vision or whatever it had been, holding her in his arms had reminded him of just how much he needed her in his life. If there was a chance for them, then he just had to take it.

But did that mean that he could murder Eret if it came down to that?

“Hey. You all right?”

Hiccup jumped when, unexpectedly, Eret’s voice cut into his thoughts. He looked up at his cousin, a spark of panic flaring up inside him. Would he be able to read Hiccup’s thoughts from a moment ago on his face?

“H-hey,” he stammered in greeting. “Yeah, everything’s good. Fine. Uh, Crusher is ready, but if you want you can check him over again. I’m feeling a bit fried – rough night – so I’m not all here right now. I-I hope I made no mistake.” Oh, wouldn’t that be ironic? If he killed Eret by accident simply because he hadn’t correctly taken care of his kit? Or would that even count as an accident, with a small dark voice in the back of his mind demanding him to do it? A shiver ran down Hiccup’s spine, and he averted his face when he felt Eret’s scrutinising look on him.

“Hiccup... what’s wrong?” He paused for a moment before he went on with a low sigh. “Listen… You don’t have to come along today if you don’t feel like it. This is just a joy ride, nothing more. You’ll really be needed as squire at the ball tonight, so you’d better rest until then.”

Hiccup grimaced as Eret’s words brought a new idea to his mind. Could he kill Eret simply by not being around when he needed his help? These thoughts were driving him insane!

“No, I’m good, really,” he muttered and tried to force something like a smile on his face. “But still, you better check that all buckles and straps are where they should be.”

“As if you’d make a mistake when it comes to horses,” Eret snorted. “No, I trust you. Besides, we don’t really have time for that anyway. I’m… well, I slept too long and I fear the rest of the party is already waiting. Let’s get going.”

With a tight smile, Hiccup nodded and was glad when turning to get Cassie provided him with a welcome excuse. Interacting with Eret had never felt this awkward before, and he was certain that his unusual tension hadn’t escaped Eret’s notice.

He had to admit, however, that going for a ride was a wonderful diversion from their other activities lately. Hiccup rarely ever felt as free and relaxed as when on horseback, and even with how anxious he was today, Cassie’s familiar movements beneath him filled him with a certain calmness.

As Eret had predicted, it was nothing but a slow ride through the countryside, hardly a joyous ride; in fact, it was more of a discomforting plodding, which Hiccup knew that she and her brothers all hated from how they’d reacted over the last few months. But it couldn’t be helped, given the number of riders in the party. Most of the hundred and more suitors were riding with them, and their horsemanship left much to be desired, especially as they crowded around her, unable or unwilling to just yet accept that they’d lost. But that was understandable, as they were the survivors of the contests so far, after the injuries during the tournaments and hunts had killed nearly two dozen, with that one boar having accounted for four deaths all on its own, and another two dozen-plus were wounded or maimed. They wouldn’t give up that easily, not now, not after everything.

From his place close behind Eret, he could barely even see her on Markor’s back where she rode at the front of the party next to the King. And their speed wasn’t helped by her having to use that ridiculous side saddle for this official event. He figured she wouldn’t be all too happy right now from that, but hoped that she’d at least find some form of comfort by being allowed to ride again for once.

Trying not to focus too hard on her and trusting in Cassie to stay in her place amidst the group, the slow pace gave Hiccup the chance to further brood over the riddle She had given him – even as the sober thought of the Goddess Herself having appeared in his dreams nearly made him hysterical. It all felt so surreal, impossible, and only left him more confused than before. Yes, he’d asked for help, for a hint at whether and what he could do, but had that vision – if it had been a vision at all – really helped him? He wasn’t so sure about that. She’d been right. Foresight was a painful gift.

For well over an hour, they rode along the shore of Lake Vola while Hiccup’s thoughts still whirled around in circles. He hadn’t paid their surroundings any mind, but from one moment to the other that changed. There was a commotion at the front of their party; a horse whinnied and others snorted, men yelled, and there was abrupt movement among the packed riders, some halting and others urging their steeds on.

Then a sudden shriek of pure agony rent the air, and it was only by dint of long experience that Hiccup kept Cassie from bolting in panic. A number of horses did bolt, sending their riders tumbling out of their saddles or carrying them off, and shouts of surprise and dismay joined the agonized cry of someone in mortal pain.

And from the sound, Hiccup knew, knew who it was...

. o O o .

Right... and I'm back into hiding...

Next Chapter

[mjwiththefangs]

Beautifully Deadly (NaLu) #5

Chapter 5

Vampire/Supernatural AU

Rating: M

Summary:  "Supposedly an entire kingdom disappeared when their queen went beyond the borders, remember?" When Natsu Dragneel leaves the kingdom to investigate mysterious disappearances, he finds a much bigger adventure than he was bargaining for, including a beautiful vampire hidden away in an ancient castle. She has little to say about her past, or why she's locked away. Who did this to her? What has she been feeding on? One thing Natsu knows for sure that she is dangerous... Could she have something to do with the disappearances? "I'm sorry, Natsu, but I'm just so thirsty."

Chapters: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7

Read it on: AO3 & FF.net

A/N: So Hi! Apparently, I do monthly updates now- shocking, right! First of all, compulsory shoutout to @bmarvels & @mannyegb for agreeing to Beta for me again! You are both Stars!!

Secondly, Many thanks to all of you Lovelies for being patient, i hope this chapter was worth the wait! Im really aiming to keep the word count near 3K if not higher. Let me know what you prefer! I also wanted to add that i am on Tumblr; follow Starstruck-MJ-writings for chapters & progress updates.

Im trying to get the plot rolling now, so things should begin to pick up from here on out. As always, i am deeply humbled by all your lovely reviews ❤

Now, enough of me rambling. Lets get to the main event!

Review shoutouts! to: KatanaNoNeko, YunaYue, Densolator, Aliciacevbra, & NaluGrey 

Thank you!!

The forest surrounding Lucy’s decrepit castle was vast and held many secrets. Deep within the wilderness, nestled in the woods was a path that none dared to tread, and even fewer knew existed.

If one knew what to look for, they would see the intricate runes littered through the trees, and surrounding Lucy’s Castle.

They were carved into the bark, small, seemingly insignificant sigils. They came in all different shapes, all designed to trick the eye, making them incredibly difficult to locate. Even if one managed to find the runes, it would be very unlikely for the individual to stumble upon them to understand what they meant, for they were all written in ancient tongues, in rare and dead languages.

Had a certain wolf come across these mysterious runes, he would have been elatedly familiar and perhaps found exactly who created them.

The rune creator herself, a wise wood elf, had made sure she was difficult, nigh on impossible, to find. Her stave surrounded her sanctum perfectly. It had been after some thought that she had adapted the stave to help cover Lucy’s location also. It had been difficult, meaning the castle remains were not completely hidden, but certainly more elusive of malicious, searching eyes.

The Elf had been quick to deduce that the strange blonde did not wish to be found. She had run away. The Elf was still pondering what the woman had run from. There were, of course, the disappearances. The Elf could not quite rule out Lucy’s potential involvement, despite the woman’s evident fear.

Sighing, she tucked a lock of blue hair behind her ear and reached for her research notes. Whilst she had been absent from her home and recovering her strength, she had been studying.

The Elf's name was Levy McGarden. She was separated from her Beloved Wolf and the people they had been escorting. Levy had been struck across the head before she could even react. It had slowed her reflexes, her vision blurred and saturated with her own blood. She faintly recalled trying to help some escape from the attacker. She didn't know how they'd all lost one another. She didn't even know if the others survived.

‘I wonder if Gajeel…’ her heart squeezed painfully in her chest, unable to finish her thought. Her mind drifted unbidden to the attack. The way Gajeel had transformed into the giant wolf she was so familiar with. The fury in his eyes.

‘Run!’ He had shrieked, desperate to keep her safe. He was already critically injured as she fled, his right forearm torn almost to shreds. She, of course, now had her own scar to bare. It stretched from her right temple, across her forehead, in the form of an ugly slash marring her porcelain skin.

She'd awoken days later, in a dark room, with the strange blonde woman beside her. Levy was still unsure what to think of Lucy, despite owing her life to her. Lucy had bandaged her up. The blonde seemed so uncomfortable with Levy near her. Levy wondered what species the woman was, it had become quickly evident that she was not a mere human.

She flicked through her notes. Scanning over her theories on Lucy. The answer had to be here, among her observations. Levy could almost taste it, it was right there, dancing on the tip of her tongue.

‘Wouldn’t approach when I cleaned my wound’,

‘stayed away from the windows’,

‘appears to be nocturnal’,

‘very intelligent, potentially dangerous, secretive.’

The scrawled notes screamed at her off the paper, telling her she was missing something between the lines. Levy knew her stranger saviour had not been a mortal human.

She tapped her chin in thought, ‘Perhaps she can’t walk in sunlight either…’ Suddenly, something clicked in her head. ‘If I run with this Hypothesis…’

She gasped, everything about the blonde making sense, ‘She’s a Vampire!’

.

Cold.

For the first time in his life, Natsu Dragneel felt truly cold. Sure, he’d been on the receiving end of Gray’s ice before, but that had never left him feeling like this. At this moment, he felt as though the fire in his belly was diminished to just embers.

He felt so utterly cold. He groaned painfully, coughing as he rolled. His eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times before squinting to look around him. It was dark in the small room. He found himself to lying on a cot, his wounds delicately wrapped. Natsu grunted, raising his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes.

Only to find that his wrist was cuffed to the wall. Puzzled, he took this moment to examine his environment. The room he was in was small, but not unpleasant. The arched paned window allowed streams of dusklight through the old curtain drapes. The cot he found himself lying on was tucked snugly in the corner, his wrist chained to an old iron ring embedded on the wall, and the plain sheets were folded at his feet. His gaze drifted to the heavy wooden door. A well-aimed fireball would have that taken care of. That is, he suspected, if the metal cuff around his wrist wasn’t magic sealing stone.

The Draconic whined in his throat, dropping his head back onto the cot. The motion sent a shock of pain shooting through his neck, a violent hiss escaping him. His fuzzy mind struggled to catch up to him, foggy memories being dragged to the surface.

He ran away. Gajeel attacked him, separating him from Atlas Flame. He stumbled upon the castle remains. Blood. The woman…

She bit him.

Gingerly, he reached up to his neck, his calloused fingers coming into contact with bandages, ‘what?’ he frowned in confusion. Did she do this? A sudden idea tickled his mind, and turning his gaze towards his torso, he reached down and tugged up his shirt. His wound from Gajeel had been cleaned, though not bandaged, and he noticed the cauterised skin was barely holding him together. If he was too reckless again, he would surely reopen the injury.

His ears twitched at the sound of approaching footsteps. He bolted upright on the cot, wincing at his own sudden movement. He held his breath, preparing himself for whoever was coming to see him. The footsteps stopped in front of the wooden door.

He heard the latch click softly, surprised to learn that it wasn't locked. The hinges creaked in protest as the door opened slowly, soft candlelight trickling in from the hall.

She stepped carefully, and not without trepidation in his small room. He found himself taken aback at her appearance. Before, when he found her on the floor, she had been paler than death, dark shadows gathering around her eyes. Eyes that had flashed crimson, mad with hunger.

But as he looked at her now, undoubtedly the same woman, he found the breath leaving his lungs. Her golden tresses tumbled down to her waist, framing her heart-shaped face perfectly. She looked so alive, he thought, with the warmth in her cheeks, she was glowing. Her eyes were the colour of honey, warm and soft when they met his. She froze, her eyes widening a fraction, more colour flushing her face.

He watched her silently, her eyes darting away from him to the fading sunlight on the floor then back to him. Her mouth opened, tiny sharp points glinting as she did, reminding him to stay cautious.

‘I… I apologise for attacking you before.’ She briefly glanced away, guilt flashing in her eyes. ‘I was not myself. I came to check on you, you have slept for a long time.’ She resisted the nervous urge to chew her lip.

Natsu cocked his head as he regarded her. For how vicious she had appeared before, she seemed genuinely apologetic now and concerned for him. Despite himself, a grin broke out across his face. He couldn’t help it. Attacking someone then taking care of them? She was such a…

‘Weirdo.’

Her mouth opened in protest, and he cackled at the indignant pout on her face. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy teasing her, should he be staying for longer. He held up his hands in a surrender motion, feeling more at ease with with the unusual woman. He met her eyes again with an easy smile, ‘Thanks for patching me up! But’ he hesitantly reached for bandage around his neck, ‘What exactly did you do to me?’

He held no malice towards her. Who was he to judge someone for losing control of themselves, after all? He still held some suspicion, but it was waning the longer she stood by the door. At his question, she flushed deeply, in embarrassment or shame, neither could tell.

‘I… I am not entirely sure myself, to be honest.’ The admission came softly, sadly, ‘I deeply regret that I bit you. I didn’t mean to drink so much.’ she sighed, ‘well, drink at all, really.’

He quirked an eyebrow at her, gears ticking in his head. ‘You’re a Vampire?’

She visibly flinched at the word and a muscle in her jaw twitched. She nodded stiffly.

Natsu bit into his tongue to stop himself blurting more questions. Whilst it wasn’t typically characteristic of him to think before speaking, every cell of his new companion screamed that she was uncomfortable, and being still chained made it very much against his favour to upset her.

He did need a few more answers, however. ‘Can you unchain me? The sealing stone is restricting my magic.’ He explained, raising his wrist.

Her gaze snapped back to him. She was frowning, confusion drawn across her features.

‘Sealing stone? I don't have any of that here.’ She glanced at the light on the floor again, taking a hesitant step forward around it.

Natsu was frowning in return, if it wasn’t sealing stone, then why couldn’t he use his fire? Why did it feel like he only had ash in his mouth? He stared at her as she sat perched on the foot of the cot.

She cleared her throat, ‘What’s your magic?’ she wanted to be direct with him.

He gestured to the horns protruding through his hair, ‘Fire. I’m Draconic.’ as if to prove a point, he attempted to create a flame in the palm of his hand, producing nothing but a brief spark. He grunted in frustration.

A chill ran through him again, reminding him of his diminishing embers. The woman was watching him thoughtfully. Something was niggling at her, from the corner of her mind. When she drank from him… the first thing she became aware of…

‘... I was warm.’ she breathed.

Sharp draconic ears twitched. He sensed a deeper meaning to her words. He was anxious to learn more. But before he could ask, she had scrambled to her feet, reaching for the door and fleeing without a word.

The words died in his throat, a long sigh escaping him instead. He allowed himself, more carefully this time, to fall back onto the cot again.

It would be quite a while later that he realised he hadn't even got her name.

.

Lucy all but fled the room, leaving the Draconic man behind. Her heart was pounding in her chest, adrenaline spiking and causing her hands to quake. She moved briskly through the stone halls, not knowing where her feet were taking her, but just needing to be moving somewhere.

She gnawed her lip, her mind whirling as she marched. In her distraction, she failed to notice the soft glittering sparks pulsing to life beneath her feet with every step. Nor did she notice how the candle flames leaned towards her presence as she passed.

The vampire only grew aware that she had been wandering a while when she passed an open window, and belatedly startled, only to realise that the daylight had gone. She paused, gazing into the darkening hues across the sky. Her heart throbbed painfully.

She shook her head, golden strands dancing glitter around her. She felt overwhelmed. She needed fresh air. Lucy gathered her skirts, setting off in a run. She knew where she was heading this time. Her feet pounded against the stone steps, before she burst through the old hatchet, into the former rooftop garden.

Her train of thoughts began to run away from her once she was in her safe space. She was trying so hard. So hard to accept that she had drank from the strange man. She had never drank from someone before. She didn’t know what affects it had on someone, or what she was capable of in this form.

Lucy wrapped her arms around herself. More glittering dust fell from her movements. She was trembling, honey gold eyes staring into nothing.

‘Did I… drink away his magic?’

Her head shook violently at the thought. Surely that wasn’t possible? But then, she was unable to recall that last time she felt any warmth, prior to biting the man.

Lucy fought to think rationally. Before the… Incident, as she’d decided to dub it, she had collapsed from bloodlust. She always hated how much the hunger affected her. In the fuzzy recesses of her mind, she remembered that she could smell blood right as she came to. The warm, spicy taste of his blood on her tongue danced in her mind, and she blushed vehemently. It had felt like being in a trance.

He couldn’t make a fire now though. She’d watched him involuntarily shivering in that room. He was cold. What had she done to him? Had she drained his life energy too?

She certainly felt more alive. And, now that she took notice, she felt a strange tingle brimming just underneath her skin. Frowning she outstretched her hand in front of her, scrutinising the soft flesh. Nothing seemed unusual.

Lucy released a sigh, some tension leaving her shoulders. More than ever, she wished to be able to consult with her most dear and loyal companions. As old as time, and just as wise, the constellation spirits were contractually linked to her bloodline and she missed them terribly.

Even Leo, the playboy Lion spirit, who loved to flirt but ultimately was always willing to lend a listening ear and rare sage advice. She longed for that kind of advice right now.

In sudden swirl of glitter, she subsequently recognised to be stardust, a bright light flashed before her, forcing her to shield her eyes as she heard a faint bell chime. She blinked a few times, her arm slowly lowering as the dust settled.

She gasped in astonishment, gawking at the figure before her. Cat ears stood proudly in a mane of wild orange hair. The owner of that hair stood up straight from a bow, an easy, confident smile on his face.

The smile broadened into a grin, bursting with delight as Lucy pointed, ungracefully spluttering.

‘Loke?!’ She had to be hallucinating. He couldn’t be here. It wasn’t possible. She had tried so hard to summon him, summon any of them, when she had escaped her captor. She had never succeeded. She had not even been able to feel her bond to them. She understood a long time ago that she had no magic in this accursed form.

Now though, her mind reeling, she realised with utmost certainty that she had drained the pink-haired Draconic of his own magical energy.

The lion spirit regarded her with fond amusement. He found himself unable to stop grinning, his pointed ears twitching happily. ‘Hello, Beautiful.’

It had always been his favourite way to greet her and it filled him with a strong wave of nostalgia to be using it again.

‘It’s really you.’ She breathed, recovering herself, her eyes wide and locked onto the spirit. She leapt forward, throwing her arms around him before she knew what she was doing.

He laughed, happily wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. ‘I missed you too.’ He smiled down at her, ‘Now, do you mind telling me exactly where you have summoned me to?’ He asked, moving his head to assess their surroundings.

She met his hazel eyes, ‘I tried to reach you for so long. All of you. How did you finally find me?’

‘You called me here. None of us could feel your bond for so long. But we could still feel you in this realm, we knew you were out here.’ Loke’s expression sobered, ‘What did he do to you, Lucy?’

She hesitated, pointed teeth chewing on her lower lip. Loke’s sharp eyes caught the movement. ‘I’m… not the same as before.’ She answered quietly. He accepted that as answer enough.

He nodded, turning to look at something in the distance. ‘We can talk more next time. Whatever you did, it flared your magic. If you can do it again, we are only a call away.’ He folded an arm across his chest, bowing his head towards her. ‘Your magical energy is waning, I can’t stay much longer. But, I am curious about that blue creature.’

Thoughts of protesting quickly abandoned her, a curious, confused frown on her face as she turned her attention behind her.

A winged blue creature flew towards them. She squinted, and as it neared them, she saw that it was in fact a flying blue cat.

A soggy, flying blue cat.

Loke chuckled to himself, musing, ‘Why do cats always see my ears and think I’ll understand them.’

Felines had always flocked to the lion spirit after all. This blue one mewled loudly as he approached, soaring to land perfectly atop Loke’s orange hair. Lucy suppressed a giggle at the sight.

The spirit grimaced, ‘Ok, this kitty hates water just as much as any other,’ he gestured to himself, ‘As much as I’d love to stay, my time’s up.’

Lucy held his solemn gaze as he began to fade, light filtering around him in shimmers. With one last, ‘Call me when you need me’ He vanished into a burst of stardust.

The blue cat yowled unhappily as it landed on the ground. Lucy crouched down before the sodden feline, offering a hand to him. Large eyes studied her for a moment, then his fluffy white wings sparkled and they too vanished, and he trotted towards her, purring gleefully.

Lucy smiled, petting his head.

‘Let’s get you dried off.’

.

Back in her hideaway, Levy bound her research notes together, and unceremoniously shoved them into her satchel. She had been away from the kingdom for long enough.

It was time to return home.