#{frost is crushing so hard in this chapter she's just too blind to see it}

[http-paprika]

Not saying it's because of Midnight in a Perfect World- but what I am saying is I conveniently started writing for Bite the Hand after reading the next chapter. So, @deadbranch and their writing everyone! Cured my writer's block.

#bite the hand series updates #midnight in a perfect world #call of duty werewolves #{frost is crushing so hard in this chapter she's just too blind to see it} #{it's phillip's texas twang}

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Let Them Eat Cake part iii (Wolfstar Bake off au)

Chapter three!!!

This episode on The Great British Bake Off, it’s pastry week.

I’m not going to jinx it.

Oh my god, I am so sorry!

As usual… this is as good as it’s going to get.

“Have you been practicing?” Lily teased, bumping her hip against Remus’.

“Lily, we literally practice together. You’ve been eating my pastries all week.”

Lily pouted. “I mean, I know you’re right but also I’m literally with you all the time and I’m running out of conversation starters.”

Remus felt a laugh overtake him as he slung his arm over her shoulders. “Okay that’s fair, I’ll give you that much.”

“Especially since you declared some topics off-limit.” Lily grumbled. Remus sighed as he looked up at the clear blue sky. It was one of those cold crisp mornings where the grass is glittering with frost but not a single cloud decorated the sky. 

“Fine, I remove my ban.”

Lily actually squealed as they entered the tent, drawing more than one look from the other contestants. 

“Oh my god, keep it down or I’ll revoke it.”

Lily’s eyes widened as she comically mimed zipping her lips shut. Remus swung himself up on her worktop, and she swatted his knee but he didn’t move.

“So,” She prompted, her voice low. “You and Sirius?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Lils, I already told you, there is no ‘me and Sirius’.”

Lily shook her head. “That’s not true!” 

Remus made a betrayed noise at the volume of her voice and she immediately hushed herself. 

“Sorry!” She whispered. “But Re, I’m right. I mean, there wasn’t a you and Sirius at first but now… there’s definitely potential.”

“What’s there potential for?”

Remus’s heart shot right out of his chest and his stomach plummeted as Sirius hopped right up onto the counter next to him. Lily had visibly paled as the pair of them searched for an excuse.

“For… for the technical challenge to be easier this week.” Remus said, praying it would seem like a normal topic of conversation. Fortunately for him, being in a baking competition did tend to allow for the contestants to talk about it… a lot.

Sirius just nodded, seeming to go with the conversation and Lily and Remus shared a look of intense relief. On the outside, Remus was pleasantly chatting to Sirius. On the inside, he was plotting Lily Evans’ death.

“So, are we excited for pastry week?” Sirius asked. 

“I mean, no but I was never gonna be so…” Remus shrugged trailing off. 

“Ignore him, his practice rounds have been so good.” Lily endorsed. “As the person who gets to eat all of them, I’ve been very satisfied.”

“I’ll have to try them then.” Sirius was saying but Remus was watching the judges entering the tent. He hopped off the counter and moved to his own bench, with Sirius’ voice still jabbering in the background.

“Dude, I’m gonna be like ten pounds heavier leaving this show. Like wow, everything tastes so good I just want to eat it all.”

Lily’s laugh was interrupted by someone in the crew calling Sirius.

“Duty calls.” He said, saluting Remus and Lily before dashing off to the front of the tent, holding the attention of everyone in the room in the way that only someone with Sirius’ charisma could manage. James came close, but no one was quite on Sirius’ level. Which was good. Remus could barely handle one Sirius Black, never mind if there were two.

“Okay and we’re rolling in three, two, one.” Marlene called, signalling that the camera had begun.

“Welcome back bakers! It’s the week we’ve all been waiting for!”

“No James, it’s the week you’ve been waiting for.”

“That’s basically the same thing. It’s pastry week!”

“Today our lovely judges have asked you to prepare a tart or pie made with puff pastry.” Sirius said, gesturing to McGonagall and Dumbledore.

“The fillings are, as usual, yours to interpret, but it should be eight inches in diameter and have a clear design on top.”

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

And once again, they were off. Remus began work at a leisurely pace. He wasn't worried this week. Pastries were something he made quite often, his mother had a particular fondness for them so Remus made sure there were nearly always some in the house. He was making a lemon meringue pie and could probably make it with his eyes closed at this point.

Was it too early in the competition for him to feel this calm? Possibly. Was Remus going to question it? Nope, he would take any break from the nerves that he could get.

“He set about making the pastry first - it needed time to rest in the fridge and Remus wanted to allow as much time for that as possible. He soon settled into the familiar cathartic movements or cubing the butter and sieving flour, wishing he could have his music blasting like he did at home. Baking meant music playing as loud as humanly possible.

He rolled his dough into a ball, wrapped it in cellophane and popped it in the fridge, clicking the button on the kettle as he retired to his station, pulling out a pot and a clean whisking bowl. He made the lemon curd quickly, adding a generous amount of lemon zest to make sure the flavour was there before setting it aside to cool and whipping up some egg whites and sugar to make a meringue mix.

“You look confident.” Lily commented as Remus finished making his cup of tea, his meringue still wishing in the bowl.

“I don’t want to jinx it but… I am?” I feel like pastry week is the one I was born to do.

Lily laughed at his theatrics. “Going for star baker again I see.” But Remus shook his head.

“Nah I’m not that confident… I’m just not worried about going home this week. Does that make sense?”

Lily nodded smiling. Remus stuck out his tongue at her cheekily before turning back to work.

“I’d be careful where you put that tongue Lupin.” Sirius said, appearing besides Remus in the manner in which only Sirius could move, flowing gracefully through a room. Remus tried so hard not to blush. He failed.

(But it was hot in the tent, so that would explain it… right?)

“It seems like a valuable commodity, you being on a baking show and all. Wouldn’t want you to lose your main asset.

Now if Remus were one; not on national television, two; a person who could deliver smooth lines well and three; talking to anyone other than his celebrity crush he might have said something along the lines of “Will you take care of it for me then?”

But Remus was on national television, he wasn’t smooth, this was Sirius Black and to be perfectly honest, that was a really terrible, cringy line that didn’t make all that much sense but Remus never claimed to be good at this.

Instead he just continued blushing and laughed nervously, hoping it would cover up his little pause.

“I already have an official taste tester, so I’m sure I’d get along just fine.”

“Did someone say ‘official taste tester’?” James chimed in, appearing on the other side of Remus.

“Okay, no offence but take this as your official eviction notice, there are too many people behind this bench.” Remus said, his tone joking but he also meant the words. He would chat later, now he needed to get back to work.

“Oh how you wound us!” James cried, clutching his chest. Sirius pretended to break down in tears before they both grinned and Remus and promptly went off to bug someone else. Remus shook his head fondly and set back to work. He rolled out his pastry and lined the tin, adding some (frankly, beautiful) crimping detail on the edge and popping it into the oven for fifteen minutes for a blind bake.

“Here we go.” He half sang, dragging out the last word as he pulled the tin out of the oven and ladled in his lemon curd. He piped on the meringue and took out the little blowtorch he had to finish it.

“I have a weapon!” He declared, brandishing it to Lily and Tonks on the bench next to him burst out laughing.

“Who would have thought that the innocent little Lupin would have so much fun with something so dangerous.” She teased.

“Oi!” Remus protested. “Who’s calling me innocent?”

Lily looked at him like he had lost his head. “Have you not been keeping up with Bake Off Twitter?”

“Uh, no? Should I be?”

“Yes!” Lily and Tonks enthused at the same time.

“It’s like, my only source of entertainment at this point.” Peter chimed in and Remus looked around in confusion. 

“Am I the only one who didn’t know about this?”

Lily shrugged. “I guess so.”

Sighing, Remus turned back to his pie. All he wanted to do now was whip out his phone and check out what was being said, but he had a cake to make. Or really, a pie to furnish.

Ever so carefully, Remus turned on the blowtorch and began moving it over the top of his creation, watching the white piping turn a beautiful gold.

“I’m kind of obsessed with the blue flame, I’m not going to lie.” Sirius said, coming up to Remus once again and Remus really wasn’t sure how he was supposed to handle fire and Sirius Black at the same time. This competition sure was testing more than his ability to bake.

“How long do we have left?” He asked instead of replying.

“Two minutes.” Sirius confirmed, just before James announced it to the entire room from the other side of the tent.

Remus nodded, biting his lip in concentration as he tidied up the finishing touches of his presentation, very aware of Sirius’ eyes on him the whole time, and then time was up.

“Okay bakers, set your creations on the end of your bench please.” Sirius said and the judges came into the tent.

“Mr Lupin, we’ll start with you today.” Dumbledore announced pleasantly and Remus smiled, the nerves that had been absent all morning making an appearance.

Dumbledore cut into the pie and Remus couldn’t stop himself from smiling when it looked perfect on the inside.

“The flavours in this are excellent.” McGonagall commented, going for another bite. Remus bit down his grin.

“Thank you.”

“I would have liked to maybe see a little more decoration on top.” Dumbledore said and Remus nodded along. “But otherwise, this was a lovely treat. I do have an affinity for lemon, you know.”

Remus beamed as they moved away. Pastry week was off to a good start.

“Thank god it’s lunch.” Lily groaned, throwing herself into a chair. “I know we have stools in the tent but, it’s just not the same.”

“Preach!” Tonks cried, collapsing down next to her.

Peter shuffled in, a few of the other contestants joining them. Sirius and James filtered over from where they had been chatting to the judges. Remus pulled out his phone so that he could finally look at Twitter.

“Remus Lupin is such a sweetheart, I would die for him.”

“Remus Lupin blushing is my new religion.”

“Has anyone else noticed the way Sirius looks at Remus? No? Just me?”

The last one caused Remus’ apparently infamous blush to appear. He really hoped Sirius hadn’t seen that one. Remus was just kidding himself if he thought Sirius hadn’t. He had been in the media since he was small - both his parents being famous politicians. Sirius was famously separated from the rest of the Black clan, leaving them and making his own life. He had jumped around jobs for a little while, Remus remembered reading once in an interview Sirius had done in some newspaper, before falling in love with presenting. He had been appearing on shows ever since.

“I’m so ready to just go to sleep now.” Peter groaned and Remus nodded in agreement.

“Seconded.” He said, wishing he could just close his eyes for a few moments. Sadly, the show must go on.

“How about we all go get dinner after we finish filming today?” Sirius suggested. Suddenly Remus was wide awake. The end of the day couldn’t come quick enough.

“Today for our technical challenge, our judges would like you to make six identical apple turnovers.” Sirius announced.

“They should have a buttery, flaky pastry with a soft, sweet filling.” James continued. “Everything you need can be found under the cloth on your bench.”

Remus eyed the blue and white checked cloth, keeping it’s secrets hidden.

“Do our judges have anything they say before they go?”

“Make sure you watch out for the colour.” McGonagall said vaguely and with that, they were gone.

“Well that was helpful.” Remus muttered to Lily as they uncovered their ingredients, Lily giggling at him.

“Have you ever made these before?” She asked. 

“Um… Once maybe?” Remus said, scrunching up his nose in thought. “But it was years ago. Have you?”

Lily shook her head. “No. I’m not sure why because I love them, but I’ve never made them.”

Remus nodded and picked up the sheet of ingredients, scanning the instructions quickly.

“They seem… pretty okay?”

“That’s what I was thinking too.” Lily agreed. “Which is making me nervous.”

Remus chuckled and nodded his head. “I suppose we’d better get to it then.”

“I would suppose so.” Lily agreed and that was the most they spoke for another while.

Remus made his dough, set it aside and prepared the apples, the actions new but familiar enough that his brain could tune out a little. His traitorous mind wandered to Sirius, to the tweets talking about the way Sirius looked at him. Remus could almost imagine it, him icing a cake, biting his lip in concentration while Sirius looked on, wishing he could be the one to take his lip between his teeth-

Remus shook himself out of his thoughts. That was crazy. Sirius didn’t look at him that way and he was only teasing himself to let himself fantasise about it.

He filled his pastries carefully, not wanting to over fill them or the dough would split, but if he under-stuffed them, they would just look collapsed and sad. He crimped the edges with a fork and using a knife, carefully cut slits in the dough to let the steam escape. Finally, he brushed the tops with an egg wash and sprinkled sugar over them before placing the tray into the oven.

Bake until cooked the recipe said and Remus groaned. Would it kill them to be a little more specific.

He turned around and saw Lily make a face at her recipe and smiled, knowing she was thinking the same thing. He crouched down and peeked into his oven, watching the dough cook.

“A watched pot never boils.”” Sirius chirped from above him and Remus looked up.

“Good thing this isn’t a pot then.”

Sirius snorted and hopped onto Remus’ counter. “How’re things going?”

“Pretty okay? So far today everything’s gone right, so I’m trying not to jinx it.”

Sirius laughed. “That’s fair. I won’t ask you any more so.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Remus grinned. “So, tonight? Don’t we all have dinner together anyway?”

Sirius shrugged. “At different times though! I mean, I know we have to stay in the hotel to protect our little bake off bubble but I thought maybe we could pretend it was a real night out, get dressed up, all that kind of thing.”

Remus nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Remus barely dared to breathe as they held eye contact for a moment, but then Sirius coughed and jumped down and Remus looked in on his turnovers, the moment nothing more than a blip on his radar.

(A blip he would think about a lot).

(But it was just a blip).

Remus looked at his pastries. Fuck, they were a little darker than he would have liked. Not burned, but still not the nice golden Remus had wanted. Fucking Sirius with his gorgeous fucking face and his maddening smile and his dumb ideas.

Remus set his pastries out on the plate he would present them on with a sigh. They weren’t bad, really they weren’t. But they could have been perfect.

Fucking Sirius Black.

(But damn if Remus wasn’t enamoured).

Sirius and James called time up and the bakers all made their way to the table at the front of the tent to put their baking behind their pictures for the blind judge. Remus waited patiently at the side for a moment as the people crowded around the table, waiting until there was more room. Finally he stepped up next to Peter and was just putting his plate down when Peter, who was talking to Tonks, waved his hands in a dramatic hand gesture and knocked the plate right out of Remus’ hands.

There was nothing Remus could do. From the moment Peter had made contact, Remus was doomed, unable to catch the plate. He could only watch in horror as his pastries crashed to the floor.

“Oh my god, Remus I am so sorry!” Peter cried in horror, dropping to his knees to Remus’ aid.

“It’s okay Pete.” He said, his throat tight. Just needing a minute to figure out what the fuck to do. Sirius was there in a heartbeat, salvaging two of the turnovers and putting them on a plate.

“Hey, Re, don’t worry, I’ll go talk to the judges now, it’ll be fine, I promise.”

Remus met his eyes and smiled tightly. “Thanks.”

Peter was still apologising profusely so Remus stood up and turned to him. “Pete, it’s fine really. It was an accident.”

They all sat down on their stools and Lily took Remus’ hand in hers. He squeezed it a little trying not to panic. This wasn’t his fault.

James and Sirius arrived just a second before the judges, having explained the situation. McGonagall and Dumbledore went to Remus’ first, still not knowing of course that the disaster turnovers belonged to him.

“I heard there was a bit of an accident.” Dumbledore said, eyeing the plate. “But never mind that, we’ll judge based on this one.

Remus let out a breath of relief as the pastry was cut down the middle and McGonagall and Dumbledore both took a bite.

“Slightly overbaked.” McGonagall commented. “But otherwise, quite good. I like the apple to pastry ratio.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Overall, quite good.”

Remus let out a breath of relief, having experienced the most stress he had encountered so far on the competition. The judges went through the rest of the pastries, and were quite impressed. They had all produced some decent bakes.

Remus came fourth, Lily came second. Peter had come fifth and Tonks won it. The rest of the contestants filed in the other slots.

Peter apologies again as Remus helped tidy his station and gather his things but Remus just smiled tiredly. “Pete, it’s really fine. There’s no harm done.”

Peter smiled gratefully and moved away. Remus walked back to the hotel with Lily, ready to relax.

“Are you wearing a shirt?” Lily yelled from the bathroom.

“Yeah but with skinny jeans. Dress that shit down.”

Lily snorted as she emerged into the bedroom wearing a floaty sort of dress that stopped just above the knee.

“Oh you look great!” Remus enthused as she gave him a little twirl.

“Yeah and you look hot. Who would have thought the bookworm could have such scandalous jeans!”

Remus blushed. “They’re not that bad.”

“Remus they’re practically painted on. But it’s great. Sirius will love them.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Yeah as if I was thinking about Sirius when I got dressed.”

(He was thinking about Sirius when he got dressed).

“You ready to go down?” She asked, holding out her elbow like a gentleman escorting a lady to a dance. Remus chuckled and linked her arm and together they strolled down to the hotel’s restaurant

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Britain's favourite bakers!” James declared as he strolled up to them just inside the restaurant. They both laughed but Remus didn’t miss the pink stain on Lily’s cheeks.

“Grab a seat anywhere.” James said, gesturing to the one long table, already half-filled with contestants and crew alike.

“The host even on your night off!” Lily joked and James grinned. 

“What can I say? I give the people what they want.”

Remus and Lily went to sit down, slotting in by Tonks, Marlene and Peter. Sirius and James joined them a couple of minutes later and the night kicked off. No one was drinking - they were filming the next morning. None of the bakers were risking being anything less than on top of their game and the rest of the crew were up a lot earlier to get the set prepared, but they didn’t need it. The food was good, the conversation was good and the people… well the people were great.

“So how did you get into presenting?” Lily asked Sirius as they all dung into their main course. 

James and Sirius grinned at it. “Well Jamie always knew it was what he wanted to do,” Sirius said, ruffling James’ hair and laughing when James tried to shove him off. “He was insufferable in school, always doing dramatic presentations and the like. I realised one day when I came to pick him up from the set of a show and, I don’t know, I just thought ‘hey I could do this’.” 

Remus smiled at the careful nonchalance Sirius had, it was almost as if he didn’t realise what an icon he’d become in the country.

“How did you all get into baking?”

Lily blushed, looking down at her plate, Remus burst out laughing, already knowing the story.

“Her sister told her she wouldn’t be able to bake well and Lily had to prove her wrong.” He told them and the table burst out laughing.

“In my defence,” Lily protested, “That was only for that first time! I realised I loved it and that’s why I bake now.”

“I don’t believe you.” Tonks said as he took a bite of her food, ducking when Lily threw a balled up napkin at her head.

“How about you Remus?” Sirius asked and Remus looked to his left to see those grey eyes trained on him.

“My mom always baked.” He said with a shrug. “I always used to help her. I don’t even remember when I started doing it myself, it was so long ago. I suppose it’s just something I’ve always done.”

Sirius smiled. “That’s nice.”

“Well I,” Tonks interjected, “Was forced to start baking in school. I hated it.”

Remus looked at her incredulously. “What?”

“Yeah! But then there was this cake I had to make for one of my exams and it was so good. And I wanted to eat it one day, so I made it, and I realised I didn’t actually hate baking, I just hated baking in school.”

“Okay but, does Bake Off not remind you of school?” Peter asked.

“Oh yeah,” Tonks agreed, nodding empathically. “I’m having major flashbacks. I have no idea how I thought this would be a good idea.”

“Tonks, I say this with love, but you are an idiot.” Remus wheezed, tears building in his eyes from laughing. 

The desserts came out and the waitress with ‘Dorcas’ on her name tag joked that she hoped they would be up to standards. Remus didn’t miss the way Marelene’s eyes followed her around the room. He looked up and saw Sirius noticing him notice. Their eyes met and Remus couldn’t fully express what it was, but something passed between them. Remus grinned and lifted a forkful of cake to his mouth, holding eye contact throughout. Sirius bit his lip and grinned.

It was a good night.

“Hello again bakers! As you well know, it’s time for our Showstopper challenge!” James said, grinning broadly. “This time, our judges are looking for a savoury twist.”

“They would like you to prepare twenty four amuse-bouche, made with filo pastry and of course, with a savoury filling of your choice.” Sirius continued

“Judges, any words of advice?”

“The trick to filo pastry is to try to stretch it as thin as possible.” Dumbledore said, and with that, the pair of them left the tent.

“Eloquent as ever.” James joked. “Alright, ready?”

“Set.”

“Bake!”

“Here we go again…” Tonks drawled, dragging out the last word. Remus shot her a grin.

“I hope you don’t feel like you’re back in school.” He teased. Tonks threw an onion at him. Things were good.

“Are you able to get the window pane?” Lily asked, lifting up on her tip-toes to try to peer over at Remus’ bench.

Remus lifted up his dough, stretching it and holding it up to the light. ‘Window panes’ in baking were essentially when you could stretch the dough so thin, it became transparent.”

“Em… Kind of? I mean it’s not perfect but I suppose it’s not the worst.” He shrugged and put it in the fridge. “As usual… that’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

Lily chuckled and placed her own dough in the fridge. “Seconded.”

Remus took out a pan and while it heated up, he started chopping sausage and black pudding into tiny pieces. He threw them on the pan to fry while he sliced an apple as thinly as possible before tossing them in the pan too. After he had taken his filling off the heat and let it cool down a little, he took out his dough and divided it into twenty five sections - leaving an extra piece of dough in case something went wrong.

He rolled the dough out until he thought it couldn’t possibly get any thinner, and then he rolled it a little dough. As with the turnovers, adding the right amount of filling was a little tricky. Remus had discovered that exactly one tablespoon seemed to produce the best result, so he measured pedantically, wanting to make sure this challenge was as perfect as possible. He crimped the edges (he was going to be so good at crimping after this week) and popped his pastries into the oven, starting a timer and then all that was left to do right now, was wait.

“This is the worst part.” Lily groaned. “It’s so boring.”

“Now I’m having school flashbacks.” Tonks agreed.

“Oh my god, stop being so dramatic and just make a cup of tea.” Remus said. “Tea is the magic solution to everything.”

Tea, it turned out, was not quite the magic solution to everything, because when Remus took his pastries out of the oven, a few of them had split.

“But I had a formula!” He muttered mostly to himself. “Dumbass pastries, doing me dirty like this.”

“And here we have a wild Remus Lupin in his natural habitat.” Sirius commentated, appearing at his side. “Remus, are you really talking to the baking?”

Remus looked at him, his face revealing nothing. “They betrayed me.”

“Talking to them won’t change that.”

“Maybe not, but at least they’ll feel ashamed, the little shits.”

“Remus! Can you never let me get footage that I can actually use? I swear I spend half my time editing your scenes, you and your mouth.” Marlene exclaimed.

Remus winced. “Oops?”

Marlene grumbled as she walked away. Sirius shot him a wink.

“Don’t worry,” He said. “I quite like your mouth.”

Remus dropped the pastry he was holding. It was a good thing he made twenty five.

Peter won star baker. “A bloody good thing too - pastries are basically the only thing I eat!” and a woman named Sarah was sent home. Remus registered approximately none of this. All he could hear were Sirius’ words replaying over and over in his head.

“I quite like your mouth.”

It really was official. Remus Lupin was completely and utterly fucked.

#let them eat cake #bake off #bake off au #tgbbo #wolfstar #let them eat cake chapter 3 #bake off au chapter 3 #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin/Sirius Black #remus lupin x sirius black #Lily Evans #James Potter #tonks

[ai-katsuu]

Forgotten Nightmares (3/3)

chapters: 1   2   3 

previous

this is probably one of the most disturbing, interesting stories i’ve written. i hope you guys like it!

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“I’ve always been a fan of you, I have to admit.” Audrey’s voice sounded from above. 

“When I was alone I would always sing your song when working.” Gretel continued. 

“Isolation in the woods, part of me had hoped you would have arrived, that’s how desperate I was.” Briar said.

 “You were a nice story I always used to tell my Lost Boys, around a hundred years ago,” Peter spoke. 

“Who. Are. you?” The Headless Horseman questioned. 

“We want you to release the F7!” Goldie yelled, making it all too familiar to the boys who they were. 

“Goldie, remember when we said we were going to let them do the talking?” Snow gently hushed her. 

“Right, sorry!”

 The Headless Horseman huffed, “You want them? Then come get them,” he unsheathed his sword that, admittedly made everyone in the room quiver in fear. 

“Alright then, Briar, shall we?” 

“Let’s go!” Briar and Audrey dropped down from the ceiling platform. Briar devilishly smiled as the horse revved its motor with its hoof. 

“I’ll let you get started first, meet you in a bit.” Audrey told her.

 “Got it!”

 Audrey quickly disappeared as the horse charged at the pair. 

Briar hastily drew her sword and clashed with the Horseman. She was able to jump on the horses head as she fought him. The horse had reared up in panic, causing the Horseman to fall down. “Audrey!” 

The latter quickly dashed forward and gashed deep slits at the Horseman's body with her sharp water swords. He tried to reach for his sword but it was quickly grabbed by Briar who pointed it at him. He grunted in frustration as his head came to attack Audrey with its flames, however it was quickly put out as she blasted gallons of water on it. 

“Your turn!” she yelled as the Headless Horseman started to make a quick recovery.

 Briar and Audrey jumped back up to the ceiling only for three more individuals to drop down. “Peter, why don’t you take the first one, distract him for us.” Gretel said and Goldie smiled as she twisted her axe on her fingers. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Peter flew to his direction and picked his head up, throwing it up and treating it like a volleyball. “You’ve got some major anger management issues, my guy.” 

“Put me down, boy!” he yelled.

Peter looked sideways for a bit and smiled, “If you say so,” he let his head drop and as soon as it reached the ground, the Horseman heard a voice soon after from above. He looked above and saw Goldie yelling a battle cry as she had her axe ready to smash his head. To his luck he rolled away and her axe hit the floor. 

Stuck on the ground for a brief moment, Goldie grunted, “Urgh…” her eyes were dark as she freed her axe and said the following words, “You’re making me work!” and successfully swung his head to the wall.

They were too preoccupied with the head that he didn’t notice that his body was being planted with bombs by Gretel. “We’re out of here, give it thirty seconds! Snow, Gwen, finish it!” she yelled as they jumped back up.

 The mentioned fell down, “Ready?” Snow asked Gwen who nodded and turned into her Werewolf form. 

The Headless Horseman saw the transformation and frowned, “Oh, it’s you. You know the original Werewolf would’ve loved this.” 

Snow grabbed the head and immediately crushed it with her bare hands before he mumbled something soon after. Gwen gashed the body with her claws as much as she could and threw it to the side, far from the F7 as she reverted back to human. 

The rest of the group jumped down once more. Audrey moved her hands forward and created a wall of water around the body. Once she did she nodded at Gretel who pressed a button on her remote, and a violent explosion shook the walls. The Headless Horseman was no more. 

Audrey removed the wall only to see ash left on the floor. The Fearless Seven were finally able to breathe again, as their backs hurt from all the tension and nervousness they felt. Their partners immediately tried to free them. 

“Merlin!” Snow broke his chains with her hands. 

“Snow-ohwoh-I wasshk, and i ashuf.” Merlin started rambling gibberish as Snow comforted him. 

“Are you alright?” Audrey whispered as Jack hugged her, 

“Thank heavens you’re here..” he mumbled gratefully. 

“Told you my tracker was useful,” Gretel told Pino as she freed him.

 “Yeah, you’re right.” he forced a chuckle, still shaken up. 

“Did you see me?! I missed at first but then I hit him like I scored a home run-” 

“Yeah, yeah, I saw...” Noki collapsed on Goldie’s shoulder out of exhaustion. 

Kio was oddly quiet as Peter freed him, which made him feel awkward “Hey..so..are you like, okay? Or-” and Kio threw his arms around him as he lightly sobbed. Just lightly though. 

“You think I should keep this?” Briar referred to the Horseman’s sword as she cut Hans loose with it.

 “No, could be cursed.” he laughed, although like Pino, slightly forced. 

“You alright? You had no trouble transforming?” Arthur worriedly asked Gwen.

“I’m fine! It was easy.” she grinned. 

As the group made their way back home, the F7 was still oddly quiet. 

“Geez, you guys are still that shaken up about it?” Peter frowned.

 “You weren’t there when he first appeared! It was terrifying, like the stories but much worse!” Arthur explained, 

“Yeah have you ever had his head up close to you?” Noki exclaimed.

 “I literally just knocked his head out like he was a golf ball like, thirty minutes ago.” Goldie said. 

“Well, on the bright side, we’re passing by a beautiful sunset now.” Gretel smiled as she looked to her left. 

They were passing by a road that overlooked the sea, to their right was a large field that would’ve been perfect to have a picnic. Gwen made a mental note in her mind that she wanted to come back here. 

“Well, it is beautiful indeed,” Hans noted as he looked at the reflecting ocean. 

“Pretty if we had a camera,” Kio said. 

Briar raised her eyebrows, “Hey, what time is it?”

 “4:13, why?” Pino told her. 

“It’s just, why are the clouds so dark and gloomy? And it’s getting pretty cold..” she shook her arms. 

“Would this be Frost again?” Snow White asked.

Jack shook his head, “He’s in the North Pole with the other Guardians helping for Christmas, right Audrey? 

But Audrey had her head down and didn’t respond as she stood perfectly still.

 “Mon amour?” Jack went up to her and tucked her hair behind her ears. As soon as he did he almost immediately flinched back as he saw the pupils of her eyes were no more. It was as if she went blind again. 

“Audrey?! Can you hear me?” he tried shaking her but she would budge.

“Merlin!” Jack turned around as Snow yelled. He too was in the same state as her. 

“What’s happening to them?!” Briar looked in panic. 

“This is almost scary..” Gwen scrunched her face in worry.

 The clouds became darker and bright light flashed for a second before a loud boom in the sky was heard. After the thunder, rain began pouring down, softy at first, but then the droplets became bigger, and it almost hurt their skin, like needles were falling down from the sky. 

Merlin and Audrey then began to walk in sync, out of the road and into the big field.  “What are they doing?” Arthur yelled out through the raging winds. 

Merlin took his spells out, and lighting all the way from the clouds reached his hands. Audrey lifted her right arm to the ocean, and gallons of violent water came to her side.

 “No way...are they gonna fight?!” Peter exclaimed. 

Snow suddenly then gasped, she heard the Headless Horseman mumble something just before she crushed his head:

“At the sixteenth hour and thirteenth minute, one of you shall join me in my doom. I will not perish alone.” 

“The Horseman..he cursed them, just before he died. Merlin and Audrey won’t stop fighting until one of them dies.” Snow said fearfully.

 “We have to stop them!” Jack yelled.

 Immediately after he did, Audrey and Merlin disappeared for a moment, before reappearing again and caused the biggest explosion of water with electricity running through it. Trees were burnt and drowned at the same time, and the group had managed to take cover on a slope. 

“How the hell are they this powerful?” Hans grunted as he put his wok out as a shield.

 Merlin and Audrey kept throwing their elements at each other, not stopping as destruction of the ground was far from their minds. Audrey restrained Merlin’s limbs with water chains before he generated electricity, making it run across the water forcing Audrey to drop him. It was at this moment where Snow hit her head against Merlin’s, and Jack punched Audrey’s head with his ring, knocking the two out as their elements died down. 

The storm was clearing up and the group used this as an opportunity to head back to the White Palace, in fear of any other curses that might take place. 

Merlin’s eyes shot open as he sat up on his bed. “What happened-” 

“Merlin!” Snow and Arthur rushed to his side. 

“God, if there’s one thing I know now, it’s to never upset you and Audrey at the same time.” 

“Me and...what happened? We were just at the sunset- “ 

“It’s alright, we’ll tell you everything later.” Snow assured him. 

On the opposite room, Audrey slowly woke up as well. 

Isabella gasped, “Your highness, she’s awake!” she called out.

 Jack hastily came out of the bathroom and ran to his wife and her maid. “Are you alright? Who am I? Who is she?” He quickly asked her. 

“What...Jack..and Isabella...what are you talking about?” 

Jack sighed in relief, “Good, I didn’t hit you too hard.” 

Everyone else was in the parlor, eating dinner as it was quiet all around. “Are we really sure he’s gone?” Goldie asked. 

“Snow made sure of it, he could’ve only brought out one curse by the time she killed him.” Kio nodded. 

“It’s already past the deadline for that curse, so they’ll be a hundred percent okay.” Noki followed up. 

Gretel looked at her brother, “You don’t think there are other old Nightmares that are still out there, are there?” 

Hans shook his head, “We’ll deal with them when we will, if ever.”

Though all of them hoped there would never be an ‘if ever’. 

#red shoes and the 7 dwarfs #red shoes movie #red shoes and the seven dwarfs #rsatsd #rsat7d #red shoes

[artificialqueens]

For Your Safety, Chapter Five (Branjie) - Kite

A/N : Sorry this chapter is late! TW: anxiety/intrusive thoughts

“Easy does it. Feel free to slow down.”

“I got this.”

“Just make sure you’re keeping an eye on the speedometer.”

“I am.”

“Nessa, slow down!”

“Calm down, Mary!”

“Okay, sorry. You’re right, you’re doing gre– JESUS FUCK! Use your turn signals!”

In hindsight, offering to teach Vanessa how to drive wasn’t one of Brooke’s best ideas.

When Vanessa had told her that nobody had ever taught her how to drive, Brooke had been eager to volunteer, thinking it would be a good way for them to spend more time together. She also hoped that if Vanessa could drive, she could get to know the city a little better and maybe it could feel more like her home. When she’d first had the idea, there really had been no down sides.

But now, as Brooke clutches onto the fabric of the passenger seat of her car whilst Vanessa barrels down the highway, she’s beginning to rethink. She really should’ve seen it coming, since Vanessa is physically incapable of operating at anything less than a ten, but maybe she was just blindsided by her crushing desire to make her happy. Unfortunately, the very things that Brooke adore about Vanessa - her fiery temperament, her unrelenting energy, her inability to act on anything other than impulse - are all the things that make her the world’s worst driver.

Okay, maybe not the world’s worst, she hasn’t caused an accident yet, but she’s definitely up there.

But every time Brooke considers cutting the lesson short and insisting that they swap seats, she looks over and sees Vanessa’s face. She sees the ear to ear grin, sees the younger woman practically glowing with excitement, and Brooke just can’t bring herself to tell her to stop.

“You’re doing great, baby.” She says reassuringly, relishing in the blush on Vanessa’s cheeks, but silently praying they make it home in one piece.

Gradually, she directs Vanessa further and further out of the city, onto the more quiet roads. So what if it will take them longer to get home afterwards? There’s nothing else Brooke would rather do today. Eventually, Vanessa seems to relax and it shows significantly in the way that she drives, so Brooke lets out a soft sigh of relief.

“Let me know if you want me to take over.” She reminds her, as she relaxes into her seat for the first time and allows Vanessa to decide where she wants to take them. -x- Brooke would be lying if she said living with Vanessa is turning out exactly how she wanted it to, but for the first time in her life, she’s genuinely, truly happy. The first night that Vanessa had visited her home, all those months ago, Brooke had idly though that Vanessa had filled some kind of void that she hadn’t known existed. That seemed to be true now more than ever.

Having someone around waiting for her when she got home from work, someone to taste the food whilst she cooks, or someone hang out with when it’s too rainy to go outdoors… the little things - that what Brooke’s been missing. What she’d been craving.

It doesn’t matter that they aren’t together romantically. That they can’t be together romantically.

Or, at least, that’s what Brooke tells herself.

In Brooke’s mind, the reason they can’t be together is that she knows she’s become someone Vanessa relies on. If she wouldn’t have let her move in, Vanessa would’ve had very few other options. Brooke is acutely aware of this whenever she toys with the idea of just saying ‘fuck it’ and letting Vanessa know exactly what she wants.

She worries that, if she were to make a move, Vanessa would feel obligated to reciprocate out of a fear that Brooke would kick her out if she didn’t. Even the slightest thought that Vanessa could think that made Brooke feel sick. So, she reminds herself that she can never risk putting pressure on her and forces herself to resist.

She has to keep holding onto the thoughts of all the ways that Vanessa has made her life better, whenever she’s having a bad day. In the past couple of months that they’d lived together, Brooke had had her fair share of bad days, as she quickly began to realize that being a cop living with a sex worker brings with it a whole list of complications.

The first problem is that Brooke knows that the way Vanessa earns her money is illegal, and she’s definitely not supposed to be taking illegal earnings as rent, so she’s forced to turn a blind eye to Vanessa’s work. The unofficial story for if Vanessa ever gets picked up by the police is that she responded to Brooke’s advertisement for a roommate and that Brooke never asked what she did for a living. It wasn’t entirely plausible, but it was certainly better than Brooke saying “I tried to arrest this woman eight months ago but her charm and beauty wore me down and now not only am I in love with her, I am willing to risk my job so that she doesn’t have to go back to Tampa.”

The biggest problem, however, is that whenever Vanessa comes home from a night working, dressed in her revealing outfits and smelling like a combination of sex and bad aftershave, it makes Brooke’s skin crawl.

Brooke has started smoking indoors more to mask the scent. It doesn’t work.

She hates feeling jealous and bitter, when she could focus on all the ways in which Vanessa breathes life into the apartment every day, but she just can’t help herself.

One night, she snaps.

“You smell like cheap whiskey.” Brooke mutters from where she sits on the sofa as Vanessa stumbles through the door at 1am.

“Well pardon me for not drinking the fancy stuff.” Vanessa laughs, then hiccups as she fumbles to take off her shoes.

“Don’t leave those shoes in the middle of the room.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes and kicks them a few inches closer to the wall. “Better?”

“No. And you need to stop being so loud when you come in late at night.” Brooke doesn’t know why, but she’s trying to pick a fight.

“You were up anyways.”

“Doesn’t mean I enjoy listening to your drunken stumbling.”

“What, so I aint allowed to drink now either?” Vanessa laughs brashly.

Brooke exhales sharply in frustration. “That’s not the problem.”

Suddenly, the smirk drops from Vanessa’s face and as quick as a flash, her eyes darken with anger. “Then what is the problem, bitch?” She yells. Brooke flinches away from the unexpected noise. She opens her mouth to speak but Vanessa carries on.

“You think I don’t notice that every time get back from workin’, you wanna treat me like a piece of trash?”

Brooke tries to protest, but doesn’t get the chance.

“Don’t you be denying it, cause you know it’s the truth. You’re down to kick it and kiki through the day, actin like we best fuckin friends, but when I get home at night you’re reminded that you invited some hood rat to live under your roof. I know you’re disgusted by me and what I do but let me remind you, mama, that you asked me to live here. You did that. You made your bed and now you gotta fuckin sleep in it.”

Brooke’s breath catches in her throat.

Vanessa is unrelenting.

She can’t handle people yelling because it makes her feel like she’s drowning. Like all the air has been sucked from the room and replaced with a tidal wave of fear.

So, she does what she does best and pushed her emotions down, forcing herself not to cry.

“I don’t have a problem with what you do, Ness.” She stammers, feeling her entire body trembling as Vanessa’s piercing eyes watch her like a shark.

“Then what is it, hmm?” She shouts back.

Brookes hands are shivering, but Vanessa’s entire body is vibrating with emotion. She’s like a roaring fire, consuming all the energy in the room.

Brooke knows she’s responsible for this. She was trying to pick a fight and she got one. Maybe she’s been doing it for longer than she realized. Chipping away at Vanessa. Pushing her to the brink of an eruption.

She can’t bare to be in the room any longer, wallowing in the midst of what she’d brought on to herself, so she stands up and walks away quickly, not stopping to look back.

“Just take a fucking shower. I can’t stand the smell of cheap whiskey.”

-x-

Later that evening, Brooke scrubs away at her skin in the shower so hard that it’s almost painful. She’s overcome with a terrible mixture of guilt and shame.

“I know you’re disgusted by me.” Vanessa had screamed at her.

Brooke doesn’t know if she just said it in the heat of the moment, or if it was something she’d been feeling for a while, but either way in made her stomach churn. Had she really let her jealousy and bitterness go so far? Had she really, even for a minute, let Vanessa believe that to be true?

She’s disgusted by the idea of some dirty, sleazy man, roaming his hands over Vanessa’s body, breathing his hot, stale breath against her lips, but she would never be disgusted by Vanessa. Brooke has never, ever, judged her for the choices that she makes. She needs to tell her that so badly it hurts. She’s so angry with herself for bottling up her feelings and being unable to say what’s on her mind.

Brooke is so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn’t hear the bathroom door opening. It’s the cold draft of air rushing over her skin that makes her realize what’s happening.

Through the frosted glass, she can see Vanessa entering the room in her robe. Brooke open’s her mouth to tell Vanessa that she’s in here, but she knows that she knows.

She drops the robe.

Slowly, and silently, Vanessa pads across the room and slides open the glass door.

“What are you doing?” Brooke whispers, keeping her eyes fixed on Vanessa’s.

“You told me I gotta take a shower.” She whispers back, stepping into the cubicle and sliding the door shut behind her.

Brooke can’t breathe. Their bodies are inches apart, but she forces herself to keep her eyes on Vanessa’s face. Due to their height difference, Vanessa has to crane her neck back slightly so that she can look up at Brooke through her thick, luscious eyelashes. She blinks slowly once, then again, then wordlessly takes Brooke’s hand that rests by her side.

At the unfamiliar sensation, Brooke’s eyes snap downwards, and she’s suddenly able to take all of Vanessa in.

Her body is glorious. It’s like she was sculpted by the gods themselves. Small beads of water track their way down her beautifully tanned skin. Her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Mapping a route of where Brooke wants to kiss and lick and stroke. Without meaning to, she moves closer.

She then feels Vanessa tugging at her hand gently, pulling it upwards. She moves where Vanessa guides her, allowing her to raise her hand to her face. When Brooke’s fingers make contact with the skin, Vanessa’s own hand falls away. Instinctively, Brooke adjusts her hold, moving to cup the younger woman’s cheek. She softly brushes she pad of her thumb over Vanessa’s lips and her eyes flutter closed.

Kiss her, Brooke’s mind is screaming.

But she can’t. Not yet.

She can’t keep suppressing her emotions for much longer. It’s tearing her apart inside.

If this is going to happen, it can’t be just some tension relieving fuck in the shower that never gets brought up again. It can’t just be a response to a fight. It can’t be the thing that destroys what they’ve got.

For once in her life, Brooke needs to lay all her cards out on the table and just be fucking honest.

“Look at me.” She says softly, hooking her forefinger under Vanessa’s chin and tilting her head upwards. Brooke has to clench her jaw to stop herself from trembling when Vanessa’s eyes connect with hers.

She takes a long, deep breath, then another, then a third.

Never breaking eye contact.

Never dropping her finger from beneath Vanessa’s chin.

The tension is so thick that it threatens to swallow them both whole.

“I’m in love with you.”

Vanessa’s lips are on hers before she can take a breath. Her hands come to either side of Brooke’s face, pulling her closer, crushing their lips together in a passionate fury. Brooke moves the hand from beneath Vanessa’s chin to tangle her fingers in her hair and curls the other strongly around her waist. Their bodies are flush together, but it still isn’t close enough.

Usually, Brooke needs to be the one in control, but she yields to Vanessa, allowing her to dominate the kiss. There is none of the softness that should come with a first kiss. It’s fiery and uncoordinated, practically wild. Carnal. It’s the type of kiss that can only come from months and months of pent up desire.

The taste of Vanessa’s mouth is something Brooke craves. It’s gorgeous.

She’d rather suffocate than pull back to breathe.

Brooke curls her fingers deeper into Vanessa’s hair, then drags the fingernails of her other hand softly over the skin of her back, eliciting a deep moan in response. Brooke then takes the opportunity, when Vanessa’s lips relent, to spin them round so that the smaller woman’s back is pressed up against the cold tiles of the shower wall. She squeaks out a soft noise of surprise at the impact.

One moment, Brooke registers that her neck is straining from stooping, then the next, she’s leaning down to cup the back of Vanessa’s thighs and lift her up so that their faces are level. Brooke didn’t even realize she has the strength to pull it off. In reality, she probably doesn’t. It’s like adrenaline alone is enabling her strength.

It feels like her body is on autopilot. She’s not in control anymore.

Vanessa is quick to curl her legs around Brooke’s waist, hooking her ankles together behind her back, and her hands grip Brooke’s shoulders, as though she’s afraid she might fall.

They’re kissing so hard, so vigorously, that Brooke start to ache, so reluctantly, she pulls away from Vanessa’s mouth and instead connects her lips to her neck. But if she thinks that will be her chance to catch her breath, she’s wrong. Vanessa’s moans deepen as she trails her mouth across her neck.

Brooke is only spurred onward.

She sucks at the skin forcefully as Vanessa moans, then drags her teeth harshly over the same spot. Vanessa gasps in response.

Brooke runs her teeth over the sensitive skin once more. “Fuck.” Vanessa hisses sharply.

Overcome arousal at the sound of Vanessa cursing, Brooke takes the skin between her teeth and applies some pressure and Vanessa hisses again. As she goes to repeat the movement however, she feels Vanessa shake her head and squirm beneath her. “Brooke, stop. You’re hurting me.” She says quietly.

At the sound of her words, Brooke snaps out of her lustful haze.

“Fuck.” She breathes out, then lowers Vanessa so that she can stand. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

There’s a dark purple bruise forming on Vanessa’s neck where her lips had been.

Tears begin to burn at the corners of Brooke’s eyes.

“It’s okay, baby.” Vanessa tells her softly. “I was liking it ‘till the teeth” she adds with a smirk, then leans up for another kiss, but Brooke flinches away.

She shakes her head softly as Vanessa tries to kiss her again. “Brooke, its okay.” She whispers. Brooke can feel her trying to tilt her chin so that she will look her in the eye, but she can’t take her eyes off the bruise.

She did that to her.

Vanessa deserves to be treated like a goddess, to be caressed and loved, but instead she marked her skin with her unbridled desire.

Brooke’s fingers move to delicately trace the skin below the bruise. “I’m so sorry.” She says, feeling her breathing quicken. She’s going to cry.

Vanessa smiles up at her and and brushes her fingers over Brooke’s cheek. “Hey Mami, don’t go getting upset over no damn hickey.” She’s speaking in a tone so gentle and quiet that it makes Brooke’s heard ache. It’s the tone that’s reserved only for moments like these.

Brooke doesn’t deserve her.

“I hurt you.”

She can feel her lip quivering. She doesn’t deserve Vanessa’s comfort right now, because it’s not just a hickey.

She’d heard Vanessa’s moans turn into hisses of pain, but she was too overcome with lust to register that she was hurting her. If she’d been focused on Vanessa, like she should have been, she could’ve realized sooner. How can she claim to love this woman if she can even fucking listen to her?

Brooke knows she’s spiraling, but she can’t stop. “I can’t do this.” She blurts out.

Vanessa sighs a little, then nods her head warmly back at her and strokes her cheek again. “That’s okay, baby, we can just go to bed–”

“No I mean I can’t do this.” She repeats, but gestures between the two of them this time. “I’m not right for you.”

She turns away before she can see the look on Vanessa’s face and pushes her hand away as she leaves the cubicle.

Vanessa is warmth and energy and light.

Brooke is darkness and pessimism and doubt.

She finds a way to let her anxieties creep into even the best of places. She ruins things. She hurts people.

It can never work.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #police au #lesbian au #angst #romance #kite #submission #for your safety

[deviswriting]

(1) It’s not that easy...

Chapter 1: Special Name

Genre: Romance / Humor / Angst / Hurt

Rating: T

It was the month of March. The windows of all the buildings were frosted due to the cold weather outside, making the windows translucent. The bustling streets were lit with various vibrant colors, making the “nightlife” of the village glistening. Apart from street vendors selling various toys and food appetizers, there were many bars and strip clubs on the corner of the street. Among the many crowded places, one of the bars was filled with laughter and smell of expensive booze. The bar was one of the recommended places of the village, often visited by the previous Mizukage Mei Temuri. It was about midnight.

A brunette wearing her tactical uniform was in deep thought. Sitting on one of the bar stools, with two empty glasses of the “special vodka” made in the Village of the Mist. Her index finger kept swirling around the corners of the empty glass; her gaze was on the pacing of the finger. The bar was almost full, filled with top businessmen and top shinobi of the allied forces. Her gaze shifted towards the bartender, showing off his skills with the bottles with his water jutsu, making 10 bottles flip and juggle all together. She was amused by the act, realizing that ninja art could be used for acting as a clown. Her gaze went back to the glass, her fingers started to move again. She kept thinking about the memories that were flashing in her mind - About Konoha, her parents, Nanadaime Hokage, her friends and him.

.

Why did I have to be sent on a mission at this time of the year?

.

.

Why did it have to be this very day?

.

.

.

“ You are drifting off a lot Sarada-Chan, “ Said a handsome of a man sitting next to her. “ Are you missing home? “.

“Huh…Sorry, Kagura kun! I think this is the first time I will spend my birthday outside of Konoha. “ Said the tired Kunoichi. Sarada was in the Village Hidden in the Mist for a diplomatic mission. There was some political strife between the daimyos of both lands. , Nanadaime Hokage would have sent Shikamaru to handle something like this, but he wanted his successor to be trained in political matters.

“Don’t worry, Sarada-Chan. I think everyone back at home misses you too.” Kagura said with some encouragement,” And I think I am not that bad of a company, you know?”

“Oh! Please don’t think that way, I am enjoying myself! “Said reassuringly. “ I think it’s very sweet of you to spend some time with me rather than with your friends tonight”.

Kagura blushed a little. “It’s no problem. I think no one should spend their 20th birthday alone.” He says while brushing his hair. Sarada always thought that Kagura was a good-looking guy and that he was the successor for the next Mizukage, made him very easy to connect with. Sarada and Kagura had developed a decent friendship over the years, but they never went together unofficially outside other than their professional environment.

“ I think… that we have never really gone together… like this” Sarada said with a little patch of blush on her cheeks. Her voice trailed off. Looking at the blond silky hair made her wonder,

Do all blonds are this attractive? Or is it just her luck?

, This led her mind to think of the idiot and her idol. She was fairly attracted to the Hokage but his son was just … the eye candy of all the girls of their age group (She was noexception).

“Earth to Sarada-Chan, Did you hear what just I said,” He said while poking her cheek. Sarada was startled and sheepishly apologized.

“Sorry! Again!” Sarada said while waving her hands in the air and making a sorry cuteface.

Looking at a startled Sarada, made Kagura blush even more, he had not seen such a cute side to a very serious and stoic woman. He always thought Sarada was beautiful and he always was very curious about her other expressions. Once, a very long time ago,when he was in Konoha for some business, he had seen how close Boruto was with Sarada. He always had his way with her; he could make her laugh, angry, excited and again a lot angry. He had always believed that Sarada and Boruto were dating until Sarada had made this misunderstanding clear. He was happy that his longtime crush was single. He finally had his chance to show his fun side to the brunette, and the timing was just perfect, a night just before her 20th birthday and no sign of Boruto.

“You know what!! It’s time for another round!” Kagura said with some unexpected enthusiasm.” Another one please.” requested the future Mizukage.

“Umm… Okay.” Sarada wasn’t fond of the drinks Kagura had been ordering. It did not feel right. This made her remember her previous birthday with a certain blond idiot. He always made the right choices when it comes to her. He knows about her more than anyone. Even Chocho and Sakura didn’t know things that Boruto knew.She had her first drink on her last birthday with that idiot - Rice Whisky with soda. Her 19th birthday, if considered a success, was all because of him.

They had their last round and they were fairly drunk. They talked a little about work and then landed a topic Kagura didn’t want talk about.

“Hahaha! Yeah-even Boruto would have loved that game! “ She said with some excitement.

“Yeah…” Kagura was a little disappointed that she kept thinking of him even when he is not here.

“You don’t know that how much he loves to play that stupid video game of his. Once I caught him playing that stupid game during a mission, I had to snatch it away… seriously he is still a child. He has always been one. He always gets on my nerves and he is such a big flirt. I have lost the count on how many fangirls just wait outside our apartment,just to SEE HIM!! Argh, he makes me so mad. I wish he had more sense in him to keep the toilet seat clean while he takes a piss.”

Sarada trialed off about ranting on Boruto and his antics, meanwhile Kagura had gone into a deep state of unrest. Hearing about Boruto and Sarada sharing an apartment made him feel uneasy, very uneasy. “Aa… Sarada-Chan? You live with Boruto?” Kagura asked with a pinch of hurt.

“Oh, yeah we both shifted together last year as we both wanted to be independent and not rely on our parents. And we could share the rent together” said the Kunoichi nonchalantly.

“But don’t you think that a man and a woman sharing an apartment gives the wrong the idea” asked Kagura carefully.

“Yeah maybe but, Chocho was already sharing her an apartment with Sumire and Mitsuki wanted to live alone for his research purposes…Boruto and I don’t care what other people think, it always been like that for us… being judged because of out parents status, regardless of how hard I’m on that idiot, I trust him the most.” Sarada trailed off saying that. She was now deep in her thought. Thinking how long they have come together. How they could fight together with blinds on their eyes. Defeating the strongest of enemies. Supporting each other beyond the fighting and bloodshed. They were the anchors to each other, but these feelings were all subconsciously embedded in both of them, deep within them. But talking with Kagura and comparing Boruto to Kagura, made her realize how important Boruto was to her. He always knew what was best for her, even when she didn’t know.

On the other hand, Kagura also trailed off in his thoughts this time. Thinking about how close Boruto was with Sarada, and how they had special names for each other. It made him fume with jealousy

Hmh, really “Idiot” What the hell? Why can’t I get a special name? We have so much in common and still, she laughs remembering about that idiot. ARGH! No, calm down… I need to try harder.

“Umm Sarada-Chan… I know I have never said this to you, but I think that you have very beautiful…” Kagura said while being embarrassed.

“Sarada-Chan…. Sarada Chan… SARADA!” Kagura shouted enough to get Sarada’sattention.

“Huh! Oh! Sorry hehe! I don’t know what’s happening to me!” Sarada was very sheepish and confused as to why was she thinking of the idiot when she was this handsome blond.

Kagura placed his hands on top of Sarada's,“No problem, I was saying that you have very beautiful eyes.” Now Kagura was very stern with his answer. “Thank you so much Kagura-kun,” Said a blushing Sarada ”I like your hair very much.”

This surprised Kagura and blushed from the neck.” Thank you Sarada-Chan”

“Umm, do you think that we can… you know have special names for each other” Kagura was very nervous by now.

“What special names?”

“Umm you know like you and Boruto have for each other” By now the Sarada slowly pulled her hands back on her laps. Kagura noticed the discomformt from Sarada and frowned.

“Oh, that! Well, I don’t consider that a special name, it comes on its own, I just speak the truth! He is an idiot after all!”

“Haha! Yeah…But still, what would you call me?”

“Umm, what’s wrong with Kagura kun? It’s a nice name you know”

“Thanks, but I still think friends should have special names, like what does Boruto calls you, umm I can’t remember…”

.

.

“Ah, Four Eyes” Sarada said with a little annoying voice.

“YEAH that, four eyes, I think that is a cute name”

“Hahaha, you think so? I think he gave me that name to mock me.”

“Haha yeah but I think it’s nice to be so... so open and carefree with each other.”

“Hmm if you think like that then, yes it’s nice to have special names.”

In between the talk, these two both had forgotten that there was a birthday they had to celebrate.

Kagura’s eyes went onto the wall clock when he realized that he had prepared something special for Sarada – a boat ride under the star with champagne.

“Oh! It’s about to be 12 in about an hour,” Said Kagura, stopping the awkward silence.

“Oh yeah” Sarada wasn’t expecting anything from Kagura for her birthday.

“Well, do you want to…” Kagura was about to ask her to come with him to the docks when he noticed the glasses trailing off to the tip of Sarada’s nose. He moved his hand to slowly push the glasses back to its place. Their eyes met and this made Sarada blush and Kagura bushed even more after realizing what he had done. Kagura had never been this close to Sarada.

Man, this is too close.

They were leaning towards each other, close enough to feel each other’s breath. That was a very intimate moment for both of them.

I think this is the moment, I think I can I do this. Ok now or never. But, this is our first date, and I don’t even know if this is a date… dammit I’m going for it. Kagura thought.

“If this is a staring contest, I would like to join in” a voice came from behind the sitting figures. They both turned to look at a man wearing a black hooded cloak with a sword at his back, very rugged look, like as if he has been traveling for a very long time. His ocean like eyes had a tired look and he was holding a red rose in his hand.

“BORUTO”, Sarada jumped out of excitement when she saw her best friend and jumped in his embrace. After two long months, she saw him. He was out on a mission traveling through many dimensions. He had taken steps to become more like his idol, Sarada’s father - Sasuke. Even though she would not accept this in front of him, but she missed him a lot. His embrace gave her a warm feeling, which was lacking in her tonight. Her head perfectly fitted under the crook of his neck. She felt as if they were complete. Boruto brought his arm around her waist and whispered under her ear,” Missed me?” This made Sarada blush from her neck. Boruto pulled his head away to look at her onyx eyes. Their eyes met and there it was, the longing to see each other for so long was all communicated through that glaze. Boruto pulled away his right hand from the embrace and poked her nose with the red rose. This made Sarada startle a bit and then she snatched the rose and pouted away from him.

“You have some guts coming all the way here,” Sarada said with a strict voice.” You can’t abandon a mission for some trivial birthday”.

“You know I didn’t say that rose was for you,” Sarada felt a little ashamed,” and regarding the mission, I finished it earlier than expected.” Said the blond shinobi.

Sarada turned around and motioned her hand to give the rose back. She didn’t even look at him. Boruto flicked his fingers to use transportation jutsu and a huge bouquet of Sakura daffodils appeared in his left hand. “These are for you.” Sarada took the bouquet and blushed even harder. Damn, he knows which flowers to get for me.

“And what about the rose” moving her hand to give the rose back to Boruto.

“That I got from some girl outside … hehe, I think it doesn’t matter now” Boruto said sheepishly. Brushing his hand through his hair, revealing his blonde hair, which was under the black cloak.

“Idiot! Hmp” Sarada took both the rose and the daffodils and smelled them. Both were so soothing to her.

Meanwhile, Kagura saw the two best friends with absolute disappointment and jealousy.

That idiot destroyed my moment and those flowers aren’t even fresh either. No taste! Sarada-Chan deserves better!

“Um... I’m also here you guys.” Kagura tries to get attention.

“Oh, Kagura! How’s it going?”

“It’s been great…until you came,” Kagura said, saying the last part audible to himself.

“Cool, anyways thanks for taking care of Sarada for me!” Boruto said with thumbs up.

“Yeah, no problem” Kagura replied. He felt as if a thousand kunai’s had stabbed him at that very moment.

“Anyways, we are getting late Sarada! He is about to close his shop!” exclaimed the blond shinobi.

“What are you sayyyiiing…” Sarada was about to finish her sentence when Boruto pulled her out of the bar.

“What are you doing, you IDIOT?” Sarada was furious and confused where Boruto was taking her.

“Squids!” He said while running.

“What?!” She was very confused by now.

“We had our first squids at that shop! I want to relive that with you.”

“Oh” Sarada blushed at the memory when it was the budding ages for their friendship. At that time she had a crush on him but, the times were tough, they had to fight a war, their way of lives was at a risk. They did not have time to think about things like relationships. But now they had time. She had the perfect moment to tell him what she felt for him.

To be continued

AN: Hey guys! I'm new at writing stories itself, so it might have some problems. Feel free to leave a comment. See you in the next one. :)

#borusara #boruto and sarada #sarada and boruto #hurt #angst #kawaii #kagura #mitsuki #naruto #fic #fanfiction

[comedicreliefonlyworkswhenfunny]

Villain! Deku au; chapter nineteen: A Glimpse

If being paired together wasn’t bad enough for Bakugou and Todoroki, the smog that polluted the air diminished their visibility and made it hard to breathe. The heterochromatic boy had picked up one of the Class B students, Kosei Tsuburaba, who had collapsed mid-scare. Bakugou cursed as he could have sworn that he saw that tree before, or was he just losing a his mind from this thick fog? “Do you think the villains did this, too?” they both had seen the smoke rising from the tops of the trees. ‘No, this was a quirk that their allies had released to hinder their battle capabilities! How could he overlook the quirk that clearly no one on their side had!’ the blonde bit back the retort, not wanting to waste what little air he did have. “I hope the others are doing okay, but there isn’t much we could to do help them…” the gas made his thoughts swirl, so he was talking to try and keep his sanity. Bakugo hated it; it reminded him too much of Midoriya’s mumbling. He could still recall that unreadable expression on his face as he jumped. The exhausted boy standing in the subway. What had happened? What did it all mean? “We should get back to the facility, since this test of courage isn’t important anymore,” saying the smallest things, “Ragdoll was at the midway point, so she should have this area covered.” It pissed Bakugou off. How dare this bastard remind him of a memory he worked so hard to repress. Hadn’t Midoriya died? Was he just some sick joke haunting Katsuki at the most random times. “Don’t give me orders,” he snapped, trying not to think about the weak smile of the useless hero-wannabe. A person? “We were one of the first ones out-” if not the first, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the path, right? That apparently wasn’t true, looking at the creep in front of them. Todoroki was uneasy; there was just something about this guy that he didn’t like. That something happened to be everything, but his aura, his stature, hell, the very idea of him just seemed to send a shiver down his spine. “Pretty, pretty,” he loomed over something that the boys couldn’t see from their positions. “I gotta work, work, work, but I don’t wanna leave it,” he was clearly in a dilemma over this object that he found. “Tokoyami and Shouji!” Todoroki just barely recalled the pair leaving before them. Neither of the two had paid much attention to the groups, so it was no wonder that it took them so long to figure out. “Alluring flesh, blind me no longer. I need to get to work,” Moonfish hadn’t heard the boys behind him, being so wrapped up in his obsession, until they spoke loudly and clearly. “With this psycho on the loose? There’s no way I’m not engaging,” Bakugou hissed. A chance to protect his classmates and get his mind off of his childhood friend that’s existence was clouded in mystery? Hell yeah!

Regret was almost instant. His weird teeth quirk had both range and strength. Bakugou couldn’t get close enough to land a blow, narrowly dodging the blades. He continued to charge forward, looking for any opening. Todoroki, however, was getting quite annoyed with his partner, having to always throw up a guard when dodging was completely out of the question. Maladay’s voice called out: “The students are the targets! Fight back if you must, but don’t engage otherwise!” Moonfish didn’t really want to be here. He quite disliked fighting and was quite attached to chaining up corpses from his kills, but fighting? There were just too many ways to mess up the pretty flesh that he loved looking at. “We are the targets, don’t you get it?” the gas was way to flammable for Bakugou to have any input in this fight, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to carry Tsuburaba’s unconscious body. “Fight back, don’t fight back- make up your damn minds!” he charged forward, “Fuck it! Fighting is our only option!” Bakugou rushed forward, a spark ready in his hands. Moonfish had heard his obvious battle cry, sending a tooth his way. The blonde barely dodged it, watching a wall of ice emerge from the ground. Moonfish had heard that, too, the cackling that the ice made before it shot up. He hated the split haired boy’s quirk. Ice was cold. It didn’t feel good. He hated it. He wanted meat. Meat was warm. Flesh was pretty. He wanted meat now. The two hero trainees were arguing about Moonfish’s credibility. He had been on death row and back again; two lousy kids didn’t matter. They weren’t kids, per say, more like bags of meat with pretty, perfect flesh keeping that meat together. “An explosion would start a massive fire, you know that, right? It could kill all of us,” Todoroki knew that Bakugou wasn’t stupid, but he was doubting his knowledge, seeing how revved up for a fight the blonde was. His stance was open and his fists raised, legs bent as if he was about to lunge. “I’m not a dumbass!” his partner doubted that. Moonfish didn’t care, digging his teeth into the ground, trying to find that warm blood he craved.

Deku had no regrets leaving Kota where he was as the villain trudged through the thick underbrush. He searched the forest for a target, not wanting his only action to be defeating Muscular and saving a kid that wasn’t even from his team. He stepped through the forest, his eyes catching a dust of frost that most likely belonged to that Todoroki kid. It would be best not to engage with someone like that just yet; he wanted to save the strong ones for when he put on a show. He felt a wave of pure negativity wash over him. Good, it was someone easy to manipulate. The screams got louder and louder until they were ringing in his ears. There were two distinct screams; that of the boy and that of the beast. Deku debated how to get the beast’s attention, feeling sorry for the boy caught inside the black abyss. Just as the shadowy head was about to jerk his way, Deku felt himself being pulled down. Shoji tried to calm his breath, just barely catching the kid before Tokoyami noticed. Not recognizing the silhouette, the boy thought it was a Class 1-B kid, but, looking closer, he realized that assumption was wrong; he just saved a villain. Deku felt all of the fear that the six armed boy- Shoji- had been feeling. He felt the regret and sorrow. “Your friend has lost control, huh? Since his quirk resembles a shadow, I’d say his weakness is light, right?” a moral dilemma fell upon Shoji’s shoulders. Surely he couldn’t just tell this person- a villain- his friend’s weakness! However, he might need to if either of them wanted to get out alive. “I think I know where we can find some light,” Deku spoke absentmindedly. He was almost certain that the frost belonged to the half-fire, half-ice boy, so if he could just get the guy to use his quirk and calm the morphed shadow- Tokoyami, if he recalled the hero beside him’s memories. “What do you mean?” just how much did this villain boy know? Shoji immediately cursed himself for being too loud, attracting Dark Shadow’s attention. Deku pushed the hero student over to avoid being hit with a devastating blow. “We need to hurry! Now! Are you going to follow me or let yourself get killed?” heroes and villains were titles that didn’t matter at the moment; the only titles that had significance in that moment were dead or alive. Not-Tokoyami was already preparing his next shot. Shoji had no choice but to believe the boy, even if he was a villain. “Do you want your friend here to be a murderer?” Deku hissed, manipulating the hero student so easily. Shoji couldn’t let Tokoyami deal with the pain of having a dead on his shoulders. There might not actually be any light up ahead, but it beat staying where they were.

Moonfish didn’t look the brightest knife in the crayon box, but the creep could fight. He used his unusual quirk to fuel his desire for flesh. It was just their luck that the classroom pretty boys were up against a powerful pervert. Both being much too socially awkward to talk to other people, it was no wonder that they couldn’t talk to each other. They were running out of time and ideas fast. Both boys were dazed as an unexpected saviour showed up. Dark Shadow was violent and wild, attacking haphazardly and just angry at the world. “He’s out of control. I’ll light a fire-” Todoroki began, but Bakugou cut him off. “Don’t, not yet,” this was the best thing that could have happened to them. Deku and Shoji ran, catching the attention of Moonfish as well. “Meat! Mineeee! No, no no!” the creep was clearly disgruntled; he hated kill stealers, like the ominous shadow before him. His dagger teeth shot forward, “I will slice up their bodies! Me! Only me!” he yelled. However, that didn’t work for Dark Shadow, with Tokoyami’s fighting desire to not hurt his friends, along with Dark Shadow’s defiance, “Don’t order me around, weakling!” Dark Shadow screeched, tossing Moonfish around as it crushed him in a shadowy grip. “See that?” Bakugou pointed out; it was a good thing and cool as hell, but even he was terrified at the moment. The boys who were once so still jumped forward; Todoroki igniting his hand and Bakugou sparking his palms. Tokoyami fell to the ground in an instant as Dark Shadow recoiled from the light. “Oi!” Bakugou yelled before Tokoyami had a chance to spew nonsense about how sorry he was or how much stronger he needed to be. Bakugou had eyes on the one trying to get away. Shoji would admit that he was about to let the villain go; he couldn’t find himself viewing the green haired boy, whose name he didn’t know, as a villain after everything he did. Todoroki sent a wave of ice towards the figure running away. Deku dodged easily, jumping into the light where the hero students could see him, “Good evening,” he smirked. None of them could move. Tokoyami was trying to keep his emotions in check. Shoji was shocked that the male could make a face like that, despite the fire in his eyes when he was convincing Shoji; “Do you want your friend to be a murderer?” it still stuck in his mind. Todoroki immediately noticed the face of the boy who barged into his waiting room, who reassured him that his fire was his own. Bakugou looked at a face he hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

Asui and Uraraka were just up the path from where the boys were, facing quite the enemy. Toga bubbled, seeing two cute girls within her grasp. She managed to sneak up on the cute brunette girl, cutting her arm. Asui took stance to protect her friend, “Are you alright, Ochako?” she wanted to make sure. Toga had such terrible luck with finding people to drain, but her luck had changed! She found two cute girls. Examining her knife, however, soured her mood slightly, “It’s so shallow, not good, not good,” she whined. “Who just runs at someone with a knife? What’s wrong with you”” that was a stupid question on the girl’s part, obviously they were in a fight with a villain, and there were many things wrong with the blonde in front of them. Toga, however, wasn’t listening, “I’m Toga! You two are adorable!” she beamed, not quite understanding the true concept of an enemy. “Urakawa and Asui!” surely if she demonstrated that she knew their names, the girls would be less alert, though Toga had a bit of a lisp when speaking. “To think I used to have to make a biiig wound and slurp you up!” she was never taught how to filter her words, when to say things, when not to say things, so she kept talking, “But down I just need a kiss and it sucks it up for me!” Her costume was such an upgrade compared to what she originally had to go through. The girls yelled as Toga charged at them once more. Asui wrapped her tongue around her friend and threw Uraraka far enough to get a bit of leverage. “Get to safety! Just because we can fight doesn’t mean Aizawa wants us to!” she yelled- her mistake. Toga saw the opening as broad as day, throwing a knife dead at the girl’s extended tongue. Uraraka’s “Stay safe, Tsuyu,” was pretty useless, seeing as her friend got hurt the moment she said it. What it did do, however, was bring joy to Toga’s face. Tsuyu! That sounded so cute she just couldn’t help repeat it, “Tsutsu! Tsutsu! That’s s cute! I wanna call you Tsutsu, too!” she beamed. “Only my friends can call me that!” Asui’s meaning and Toga’s interpretations were two entirely different things. “So we’re friends, now? Great!” for obvious reasons, Toga didn’t have any friends. She was far too much of a sociopath to understand true “love.” However, the blonde wasn’t dumb to battle strategies. She saw Asui leaping forward and threw her vial like a dart, catching the cute loops in the green haired girl’s style. “Tsuyu!” Uraraka saw her friend being pinned to a tree as she was trying to run away. Of course, she immediately turned around. “You’re bleeding, Tsutsu! How cute! You really are adorable!” Toga had no indication of boundaries, and Asui was getting pretty tired of it. The scene felt off as Asui looked into Toga’s gleaming, terrifying eyes. Her face was only getting closer and closer, and twelve feet away was too close her Asui’s tastes. “Get away from her!” Uraraka yelled, charging towards Toga. The blonde didn’t worry too much about technique, throwing her knife forward, knowing that the chances of the brunette dodging that were slim. However, Uraraka had no intention of dodging that. ‘Grab their wrist and the back of their neck, while pivoting to a blind spot. Push down as hard as you can, and then pull their arm up their back:’ it was what she learned at her internship with Gunhead. “Can you tie her up with your tongue, Tsuyu? Assuming it doesn’t hurt to badly” Uraraka knew that the chances of her holding this were slim. Asui was in awe of her friend, despite looking like the human adaptation of a puppy, she could turn almost terrifying in an instant. “You’re amazing!” she had to gush before helping the girl out, “Just give me a minute.”

Toga said the first thing that came to mind, “Spectacular is a girl in love~” she cooed, recalling something she had heard back on the streets, “You’re in love aren’t you?” Toga loved distracting her opponents and having conversations with cute girls, so this was a win-win! “I get it, I get it, I’m a girl too~ You’re probably thinking about them right now!” even if she wasn’t, she was now. Though Uraraka couldn’t think of anyone like that, surely the blonde didn’t mean her friends. “You think about them, act like them! Don’t you just wanna be like them? Do what they do; live how they live! Thirst is unquenchable! Until, before your eyes, you take over that person; you are them!” people typically can’t handle the things that go on in Toga’s mind- it was why she liked Deku so much. The blonde knew that her words creeped people out, so, if she kept talking, their guard would go down. “Do you have a type? I do! I like people who smell like bloodshed and look like a fight! I just can’t help it when I look at their mangled bodies as I chop them up! They’re so fun, hey, Ochako?” The brunette was to disturbed to notice the small shifts as the blonde talked. Her needle found its way to Uraraka’s thigh, “Gulp, gulp,” she cooed. “Ochako!” Asui’s tongue rushed to her friend’s side when she saw the the stab wound, since she was still stuck to the tree.

Shoji, Todoroki, Tokoyami, and the unconscious Tsuburaba broke through the tree line. “Everyone!” Asui called out. Toga pushed the brunette off and started for the woods. “I don’t feel like dying tonight, so I’ll say bye bye!” she bounded off to find weaker prey. “Are you two okay?” Shoji stepped forward. Asui helped Uraraka up, “Yeah, we’re find, but what about you guys?” the brunette spoke up. “We were chasing a villain- well, Bakugou was,” Tokoyami spoke up, the only one who could truly view the green haired male as a villain. “Then where are they?” Asui spoke up, not seeing Bakugou or this supposed villain. “They weren’t that far ahead of us…” Todoroki swore he had just seen the violent blonde locks two seconds before they broke the tree line.

((Once again I apologize. I might not be able to link the following chapters))

[donttelljim]

Escape Ch 1 - The End

Dragon Age 2 Anders/Nathaniel The Chantry has been destroyed, the battle against the templars has reached a climax in a show-down with Meredith, and who should Anders see in the battle but...Nathaniel? He knew the man might still be in Kirkwall, but what was he doing HERE? And why would he want to help Anders after what he'd just done...? A couple of chapters following Anders immediately at/after the end of DA2, as Nathaniel attempts to help him. For old times' sake. And maybe for other reasons, too. Written for @chaos-company’s Angstpril, Day 26, Failed Escape (On AO3 here) ~ Chapter 2 here ~ ========================= Even through the battle, Anders spotted him.

All around, the Gallows - Kirkwall’s Circle tower - had finally revealed itself for the living nightmare it had always been: the Knight-Commander was spitting words of insanity, the red corruption that had followed them back from the Deep Roads bursting from her with sickening pulsations of power, whilst all around, the courtyard itself did its best to kill them. It was no metaphor: for years, this place had cornered, smothered and sapped away people’s lives, leading to either their Tranquility, death or the defeatist surrender of their freedom. Tonight, though, it was very literally fighting to kill. A giant, metallic fist crashed towards him: Anders skittered out of the way just in time, unleashing a blast of ice to hold it in place before it could take another swing.

The profanely morbid statues that had ‘decorated’ the Gallows since the time of the Imperium had done the unthinkable, or more accurately, had done what people often feared they might in their dreams: they had come alive - too unreal to process, and too dangerous to allow anyone that sort of time. In the eye of her own storm, Meredith was as blind to irony as she was to reason: there she was, cackling in her presumed victory, wielding dark magic in a haze of lunacy and proving once and for all that corruption was not a mage-only sport, nor were Templars any sort of moral authority. She was everything she had feared from the rest of the world: Anders would scoff, if it didn’t make him too furious to bear. And yet, even through the tumult, spells flying as the mage attempted to duck around the statues’ thundering strikes, rolling away from their reaching grasps and throwing frost between himself and crushing feet, he saw him. At first, he had ignored the sound of arrows, presuming them to be Sebastien’s (who was almost always with them, due to some baffling lack of taste and judgment on Hawke’s part). Moments later, though, sense caught up with him: Sebastien was gone. He had been extremely clear about that, in fact. He’d made a charming exit, too - Anders hoped the man choked on his next lecture on forgiveness. So, if it wasn’t him - It was some other self-satisfied noble with a flare for Marches bowmanship.

Dark hair, dark leathers, not a shred of his Warden colours to be seen. With his back to Anders, he stood stark against the fire and crimson glow of lyrium, a solid shadow of black clear amongst the wavering, flicking kinds being stretched and distorted between acts of violence. Anders knew that hair just as he knew the shape of the archer’s build, the perfunctory ferocity of his combat style and the not-so-secret swagger with which he carried it out. Anders didn’t care what the man claimed - for all his grim protests, Nathaniel had always been a little vain. It was what made him so satisfying to bully. It was him. But why was he here?

Before Anders could cry out, another brass fist careened his way. The impact of the air it displaced hit almost as hard as the collision to come. “Oh, suck on a fireball!” Anders threw a reflex whammy of elemental power out at the thing, swatting as though it was more an inconvenience than a deadly, reality-warping horror. It could be both. If he had learnt anything during his time with the Wardens, it was that one could most definitely battle a reality-defying monster and still cast battlefield glances at Nathaniel Howe. Cackling from adrenaline and temporary success, Anders dodged another staggering attack, staff twisting this way and that in his grip as he fired volley after volley of pure energy. Weaving through the battle, seemingly moving wherever necessary evasion took him, he soon found his feet taking him towards the archer. Perhaps it was the taint, calling one Warden to another with the ancient song buried deep in their blood. Or perhaps Anders couldn’t stay away from things that were bad for him. Besides, Nathaniel had been Justice’s friend, too. They were both glad to see him. And they needed a friend right now.

A part of Anders - Justice, he could tell - was adamant that Nate would understand what they had done, that he would support it: after all, the man was no fool, and for all his flaws, they - Justice - had seen him combat evil with virtue, even when the calls that needed to be made carried a dreadful cost. Another part of Anders - the part less consumed by Fade conviction and more weighed down by human cynicism - remembered Nathaniel being a pill. One more friend to watch the warmth and trust drain from, no doubt, and this one might just break Anders’ heart the most. Even so, he approached, backing towards him as he kept his face on the bronze enemies he was attempting to dispatch. Nathaniel did similarly: soon, the pair were almost back to back, engaged fiercely with the combat before them yet, for Anders at least, aware of the security of someone they trusted - a Warden they trusted - at their back. It sent a thrum of comfort through Anders’ blood: he had never bought into the cursed drama of being a Warden, so if even he felt it - Well, anyway. It didn’t matter what Nathaniel felt. He didn’t speak as they reached each other, but with a knock of his staff against the ground, the mage tapped into the background spell that had equipped his team’s weapons with their extra, icey edge. He glanced over his shoulder just enough to watch that same ice begin to encrust Nathaniel’s weapon - that bow he’d been so choked up over finding in his own bloody basement. At first, the man cursed in alarm, making Anders smirk to himself, and then the coin dropped. Glancing over his shoulder, Nathanie’s storm-gray eyes found Anders’ like lightning seeking the earth. They shook him like thunder.

For a moment, the sounds of battle all faded into the background rumble of the errant fire. The screeches of metal against stone, the taunts of the Knight-Commander - for one moment of reunion, none of that mattered. It was their second such meeting in less than a month, and yet, the spark in Nathaniel’s eyes, and in Anders’ gut, was just as bright as it had been then. He heard Howe laugh, the sound a rarity and yet one he knew well, even now as it was muffled and swallowed up by the violence of the Circle. “Thank you, friend.”

Anders looked away, trying not to latch onto the old face as desperately as he was. He had lost so much since reaching Kirkwall. He’d lost people. He wasn’t ready to gain someone now. Eventually, the last of the monstrosities fell, and the worst of all…blew herself up? Anders wasn’t sure: his attention had been on combat, falling into tandem with his old Tainted Despot In Arms without a thought, an old and familiar rhythm, and the next either of them knew, a red light and unearthly death-cry had detonated in the centre of the bloody square. The pair staggered away from the blast, falling back beside each other and swapping stunned, nonplussed glances. “What - ?”, Howe began. The mage shook his head, mouth part agape. “I…I don’t know.” All lay still. It was over. And he was alive. The coast clear, the crowds that had been so brave with their words rushed back in: templars, mages, all staring at Meredith’s skeletal, charred remains. The healer made a quick check of his comrades, sending a wave of recovery through each of them. Hawke was stood beside the Knight-Captain, of all people, the pair having apparently landed the final blows on the maniac before she’d exploded in a puff of hubris. There was a look passing between them that Anders didn’t like: had she found a Sebastien replacement already? He supposed she needed a new zealot for her and Fenris to sandwich around. He’d long assumed that the elf, the Chantry yawnfest and this stammering, mild-mannered genocide-enthusiast all engaged in some form of literal Circle-jerk, anyway: Sebastien probably prayed for their atonement as they finished. Anders would titter at the thought, if his life didn’t feel so very precarious right now. Those people might still decide his fate. Turn around, Hawke. Look at me. Tell me we’re alright. He watched her, the woman he’d been beside for longer than any of them, standing amongst her mage-hating accessories. She’d spared his life tonight, when the city was calling for his death, but that tide might turn at any moment. He wasn’t naive - this battle had been one that he’d started, and he happened to be a rather fantastic healer. There was a part of him that couldn’t shake the idea that his execution had merely been stayed, rather than dismissed. Perhaps he wasn’t giving Katheryn enough credit, but it wasn’t only up to her. Kirkwall wasn’t exactly known for its peaceful responses. Sebastien had already sworn an invasion, if Anders wasn’t given up. Look what had almost happened to Isabella. The city wouldn’t let things go that far a second time before handing over the guilty party.

And he didn’t want their mercy. He knew what he had given them - it was what they had given him. Blood, and a lack of choice. Let them come: he would be ready for them when they did. As would the mages,rising up,  inspired by what he had done -

Right? He couldn’t help looking to Hawke. She didn’t look at him. A hand on his shoulder almost made Anders leap out of his skin. Lightning shot over him, a crackling cage of self defense - A rough, familiar voice spoke. “Come. Before they look for you.” The lightning fell away. “What?” Anders stared at him. His arrival was odd enough: one had to take a boat to reach the Gallows - it wasn’t as if he was wandering through and helped them on a whim. But now this. “You…Do know what I did, right? Why are you - ?” “Ask later.” Nathaniel cast a last glance back at the group, urgency setting a coldness in his eyes, although it never quite reached Anders. “We need to move.”

#angstpril2022 #fic #day twentysix #failed escape #referenced smut #light violence #dragon age #da2 #dragon age awakening #anders #nathaniel howe #anders x nathaniel #nathanders #after dragon age 2 #da2 finale #escape #resce #grey wardens #friends to lovers #slow burn #guilt #justice

[hollygopossumlovesj2]

Come Back Down, Part 18

(Picture found from Google search. I take no credit for this pic.)

Word Count: 4,218

Warnings: Cussing and illness; I’m gonna call this a solid~Teen and up audience. The next chapter will move more quickly than this one but there are clues in this one for the next one. So... yeah.

Summary: Jensen and Y/N travel to Texas to spend the holiday with the Ackles. The parent’s are blissfully unaware of the trouble following Y/N.

A/N: Hey guys, I’m not dead like you probably thought I was. I’m just another anxious opossum that likes to write when I can. I’m not sure any of you would still like to read this but I kind of have to finish it for myself. Anyhow, I hope there’s still someone out there that wants to read this crap.

Come Back Down Master List

Hollygopossum’s Master List

Come Back Down Part 18

 After I had driven down from Vancouver to pick up Y/N, it had been a fairly quiet trip. I had borrowed Jared’s transport plane to avoid possible large crowds of people rushing home for the holidays for the rest of the trip. It was honestly the best for both of us. What, with her habit of telling people exactly what she thought and avoiding being flooded for pictures and signatures, it was a good plan. Not that I minded that she didn’t hesitate to speak her mind or the fans attention most of the time, it’s just that I was in a hurry to get home.

 The trip was perfect, except for the bit of indigestion the coffee I’d consumed earlier had created. I’d just taken to cramming down chalky tums every five minutes. If I alternated that with some Ativan and the occasional Pepto, who could blame me around the holidays?

 I couldn’t believe that it was nearly Thanksgiving already. It had actually aligned with the time frame of our visit if I added a few days onto the end of our trip. It had been a no brainer to stay and it sent Mom over the moon.

 The rental car had been ready as promised when we landed at the airport, a little inconspicuous black Lexus because I didn’t like to attract attention. I just wanted to get to my parent’s house and have a traditional, laidback holiday with them. Plus, I was excited about spending it with Y/N for the first time since we… well, you know.

 Yes, everything had been going fine up until that point, until I crouched down to slide into the low seat of the rental car. (By low, I mean how do people not get road rash on their ass driving these pretentious fucking roller skates?!) There was a blinding, sharp pain that caught me completely off guard and made me drop harder into the seat than I’d intended.

 The impact pushed an involuntary grunt out of my lungs as I dropped heavily into the seat. Undoubtedly, I had earned her full focus and concern that I’d been trying to avoid. However, I didn’t get to see her face because I was doubled over so hard that my forehead was on the steering wheel. I felt the weight of her hand sliding smooth circles intended to comfort even though she could have no idea what was wrong.

 “Jensen? Can I do something for you? Do I need to-.” I must’ve looked like a wreck as I felt the flop sweat beading up at my temples and the top of my lips. In an effort to keep her from panicking, I wiped the inner part of the sleeve covering my forearm as inconspicuously as possible. Despite my covert efforts, she sounded like she was on her way to being well and truly panicked. And that was just unacceptable.

 “M’okay. Jus’ a stomach cramp. I think I pulled a muscle in the last stunt I did.” It was a lie, but I knew she was already stressed about leaving her home and her animals. I had asked a few of the local PD to keep an eye on the place, and Mike was solidly keeping things under control. However, if you had a stalker, there’s no way you wouldn’t be stressed out, too.

 Besides, selfishly, I couldn’t afford any setbacks and I wouldn’t let something as trivial as a stomach ache get in the way of my plans.

 Unfortunately, the truth was, I’ve been feeling a little nauseated on and off for the better part of the week. I just didn’t take it seriously because my anxiety kicked up bouts of nausea all the time. Now, this pain was new and I grit my teeth together as it resonated for a couple of minutes before backing off to a dull ache.

 There was such a big contrast between having the sharp pain cramping my stomach and the red, hot poker stabbing into my side that seemed to change with every passing moment.

 I sat up slowly, taking even breaths and making a conscious effort to unlock my jaw before I put the car into reverse to back out without even turning to look at her. “Sorry. I’m fine. Must’ve just twisted funny.”

 I could feel her eyes watching me carefully, taking in all of the situation before she responded with an entirely unconvinced, “Okay.”

 ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 “Well, honey, would you look at this? Our son is home for the first time this year!” Despite the sarcastic jab, Mom beamed at us when we walked through the door before I found myself in her rib crushing embrace. By now the pain had mostly eased off to only when I moved a certain way.

 The house smelled of cinnamon candles just like I knew it would, a sharp feeling of nostalgia making my eyes wet. My mom loved Christmas and kept some decorations up year round. Candles that were red and green in color could be found scattered artfully around the house, and mostly on the mantle in the living room. It wasn’t anything tacky like multicolored string lights and candy canes, but the nativity stayed on display right next to the fire place.

 I’d often wondered if it was entirely appropriate to put Mary and Baby Jesus next to an open fire. Or it could be that I’d spent way too much time on the show. Maybe I was the only one in the family that continually associated fire with hell and demons.

 “And you, don’t you hang back behind him like some blushing maid. We all know better, sweetie.” Y/N’s mock offense was funny before she too was wrapped in mom’s embrace.

 Even though I know Y/N had never asked her to, Mom had always taken it upon herself to watch out for her after her parents had died. Y/N’s mom had been her best friend so the sentiment wasn’t unfounded. She always got an invitation for every family gathering, even third cousin christenings. Most Christmas mornings, I would find her down on the couch in her pajamas practically wrapped around a fresh cup of coffee. She was always here, except for the years with that assbag boyfriend that had kept her away from us.

 “And he made you carry your own bags? Jensen Ross Ackles, I know I taught you better!” She grabbed the bags that Y/N had insisted on hobbling inside herself and gave me a stern look with her hands on her hips. I immediately felt like I was 5 years old again. “I swear.”

 “But, momma, she…” I felt obligated to voice the truth, but she wasn’t hearing any of it and I got distracted by Y/N’s gleeful laugh at my misfortunes.

 “Best you just do as your told son.” My father patted my shoulder before brushing past to hug Y/N and I wondered who the favorite child really was. I couldn’t help being a little pouty, even though I’d never ever voice it. I hadn’t seen them in months and yet here they were showering her with attention.

 “Oh, baby, you pull that bottom lip back in.” Mom grabbed my lip and tugged like she’d done a million times when I was growing up. “No one likes a pouter. Why don’t you take your things and get settled in. Dinner’ll be ready in about an hour. Your daddy is making bbq ribs.”

 I trudged up the stairs with all four bags while Y/N hobbled up the steps one at a time. She was still having trouble with that leg and recently she’d stopped wearing her brace at all. I often wondered if something else was going on but hadn’t the balls to ask just yet.

 I dropped the bags on my bed and surveyed the room. My old double sized bed sat in the middle of what could only be described as a shrine. All of my sports trophies were scattered on shelves with certificates of achievement and a few mementos from my younger years. There were some framed pictures sprinkled in that I recognized too.

 “Hey,” she leaned into my side, taking in the room right along with me for the first time since my parents had moved. “Sorry I got you in trouble.”

 I looked down to see her sheepish expression, flush still present on her cheeks and felt all the tension leave in one breath. I wrapped my arm over her shoulders to pull her closer and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry about it. They just haven’t seen you in a while.”

 “Yeah, I guess.”

 “I don’t think I can sleep in here.”

 “What, that awkward 90s poster getting to you? Because, I gotta be honest, I probably won’t be able to either because I won’t be able to stop mentally making fun of you.”

 “Hey, it was my first poster! I was excited!”

 “Those frosted tips, wow. You looked like a Zack from Saved by the Bell wanna be.”

 “Hey,” I pointed a finger at her, “You can’t talk shit about Zack, he was the epitome of cool back then.”

 “Uh huh. Whatever you say, darlin.” I looked down and could see the teasing smile on her face and relaxed again.

 “You’re terrible.”

 She turned in my arms and stood on the tips of her toes to kiss my lips. “Yes and you love me.” As she rested back onto her heels she winced. I couldn’t resist pulling her closer to me by her hips.

 “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you?”

 “Nothing’s going on with me. I’m fine.” She smiled again and I knew it was a lie because her eyes were trained on my old Dallas Cowboys bedspread. “Hey, do you think your parents would mind if I showered the plane germs off?”

 “Yes, they have a strict non-cleanliness policy. You can only shower once a week.” I deadpanned and loved her answering eye brow lift. “Of course they won’t mind. Go ahead. Knowing mom, she’s already got fresh towels and those little guest soaps on the counter.”

 “Awesome.” She reluctantly let go of me and grabbed a bag before disappearing down the hall. I waited for the telltale click of the bathroom door before I sat down on my bed with a heavy sigh.

 She hadn’t even given me the first hard time after the disagreement in her barn. She hadn’t even wasted any time before she asked Mike to stay and look after things. For that, I was grateful, because it made the arrangements that I had to make easier when I didn’t feel like I was dragging her along for the ride.

 I was extremely happy to have her here, surrounded by people I trusted implicitly. She was always happy to see my parents. I knew nothing bad would happen to her while we were here.

 ^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 Before I knew it, we had finished dinner, of which I had eaten carefully because my stomach still hadn’t calmed down since the incident when I got into the rental. If I sat mostly still, the nausea and dull ache were tolerable.

 “It’s good to have Y/N back here.” My father commented quietly from his seat at the old oak heirloom dining room table. We were having a cup of coffee while Mom and Y/N washed dishes and put away left overs. The next time when my Mom cooked, it would be Dad’s responsibility, but tonight Dad had grilled out for everyone. I’d always admired my parents balanced relationship. It wasn’t always that way in Texas.

 “Yeah, it really is.” I had to admit that I was enjoying having her back here with me. I’d always enjoyed the way my family and Y/N had interacted in the past, and this visit was no different. Mom and Dad knew things were different between us, but had yet to comment or treat her differently.

 For instance, at the dinner table, my Mom had taken to filling up Y/N’s plate with food rather than letting her dish out her own because she knew that Y/N wouldn’t eat much if she didn’t. It was a throw back to when her parents had died and my parents had done everything they could think of to help.

 The cleanup was always a point of contention between my mother and Y/N. Mom would insist she have a seat and that she would handle it. It was usually said in an intimidating enough tone that even I would’ve backed down immediately. But not Y/N.

 There was a scandalized, “Donna!” heard from Y/N over the hum of the dishwasher and the sink running, followed by loud giggles.

 “Well, that sounds suspicious.” My father remarked, throwing an analyzing gaze in their direction.

 I held in a laugh as my stomach felt too tight, but smiled. “Yes it does.”

 “Maybe we should check on how things are going…” I knew he wasn’t concerned; it was more like he didn’t want to miss out on the fun. I stood up as normally as I could manage, but it seemed that my father’s parental scrutiny picked up that there was a problem immediately. “You okay, son?”

 “Yeah. I’m just cramped and sore from traveling in that little toy Jared calls a plane.” I put my acting skills to use and smiled like everything was fine. He too scrutinized me with the same care that Y/N had done in the car.

 He’d eventually nodded, “Okay, well let’s go and stop whatever fool thing they’ll want to get us involved in. Remember the time your Mom and Y/N wrangled us into wine tasting a few Thanksgivings ago?”

 “How could I forget? Mom and Y/N got borderline smashed and disappeared.”

 “Yeah, they were feeding the palate cleansing crackers to the ducks at the pond.” He was shaking his head fondly, “And it wasn’t borderline anything, they were smashed. They kept getting samples of the Rosé from different staff.”

 I gave him an exaggerated look of worry, “We better get in there. I’m not carrying either one of their butts back to the car this year.”

 ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 That night, with Y/N sleeping peacefully snuggled up on my shoulder, a stabbing pain jerked me from a deep sleep. This time, it didn’t let up and I felt lightening sharp pain spark in my stomach and saliva flooded my mouth as I tried to orientate myself.

 Oh, parents house.

 I was going to throw up.

 I tried to be as quiet and careful as possible as I slid out of the bed and made an unsteady beeline for the hall bathroom. It was down to the second when I slammed down on my knees and involuntarily lost my dad’s ribs in his incredible, family heirloom, special BBQ sauce. I was just thankful that I hadn’t bit it in the hall way and puked all over myself like a 5-year-old.

 I heaved until nothing was left, and then dry heaved some more. By the time I was done, I was light headed and covered in sweat with a fine shakiness set up in my bones. My stomach felt like it was flipped inside out and my throat was raw. I rested my aching head on the cold toilet lid after I flushed, trying to catch my breath and for the room to stop spinning. I waited for the pain in my gut to stop pounding like a damn beacon.

 God, the cold toilet seat felt good. I seriously considered just camping out. I mean, if the toilet was nice and cold, it stood to reason that the floor that was beckoning me would also be. It was so incredibly tempting because I had just barfed up my entire stomach contents and I felt exhausted. But, that would signal that something was wrong and there was no need to panic over a stomach bug or food poisoning.

 It was possible the grilled chicken sandwich I’d snuck from set had gone bad. (To be fair, we didn’t really have to sneak anything from set. The crew loved us to the point of getting away with murder.) It only took a few hours for food poisoning to kick in. I’d have to call Jared to check on him since he’d eaten the same kind of sandwich. What else could it be?

 I took a moment to brush my teeth and collect myself before I crept back into the room. I then swapped out my boxers and left my t shirt off. By then, the sweat was cooling on my skin that caused goosebumps to pop up. The slight shiver I’d developed didn’t make my stomach feel any better, but even then it was better than being overly hot like before.

 She was undisturbed and peaceful, and I was loathing to disrupt her. She had enough on her plate that didn’t involve me being sick. So, I laid there counting her eye lashes until I finally fell asleep.

 ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 The next morning, I woke up before Y/N and took a quick shower, hoping to look better than I felt. The nausea was still there, but I hadn’t thrown up since last night. No, what was really concerning was the pale faced guy with rosy cheeks that had stared back from the mirror. That, and the pain in my abdomen that had kicked it up a notch.

 “Hey.” She greeted me with a smile when I entered the bedroom to hand her a cup of coffee, defiled just the way she liked it.

 “Hey, sweetheart, did you sleep okay?” I held my most disarming smile long enough for her to take the coffee so that I could curl up next to her and rest my forehead against her neck.

 “Yeah, I did. Did you?”

 Nothing sounded like she was suspicious and there was no reason to make her worry. “I did.”

 It was quiet for a moment while she sipped at her coffee and hummed in approval. I tucked in closer, throwing my leg over hers and wrapping an arm carefully around her waist. It felt fucking fantastic snuggled up next to her. For the first time I questioned coming home. If we’d stayed in Wyoming it would’ve been easy to convince her to stay in bed for most of the day. Without a confirmed illness my parents would drag us out to be social.

 She had downed at least half of the warm, aromatic brew before she hummed a bit more emphatically. “Mmmm, your parents make the best coffee. Do you think I can weasel the brand out of them?”

 “Dad grows and roasts his own coffee beans, but I bet you could talk him out of a bag. Maybe one could make its way into your stocking. You’ll have to talk to Santa about that one.” The pain and tightness was fading a little and I found I could finally take a deep breath as she laughed.

 “So, what’s on the agenda today, love?” She slid her arm over my shoulder to rub my back in slow, calming movements. “You’re awfully warm… are you okay?”

 “Love, huh? I like it.” I let the warmth the pet name brought me settle in my chest before I attempted to move like a bomb would go off in my belly if I didn’t go a certain way. I shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, struggling and hoping she couldn’t tell. “I’m fine, just did a few errands for Mom. You know how she can be.”

 “Yeah, I guess.”

 She was definitely suspicious, but I wasn’t gonna give her a chance to examine her theories in any sort of detail. “I’m gonna head downstairs to see if they need anything else. I’ll see you when you get that cute ass out of bed.”

 I was up and out of there before she could say a word, but I nearly ruined the perfect getaway by losing my balance. Luckily the wall had been there to catch my clumsy ass and I just bruised my elbow. Who does that, I mean, really?

 When I found my mother, she was wiping down the counters. She was obsessed with keeping the kitchen spotless. I’d been able to distract her long enough to ask if there was anything I could do to help.

 So, that’s how I ended up pulling ten boxes of Christmas crap out of the attic and a couple more from the garage. It was ridiculous how much my mother loved Christmas. It is an all year type of celebration. She leaves as much out as Mackenzie would allow before becoming personally offended. I believe her favorite phrase when she was 16, was to the effect of us being a bunch of rednecks. To which Mom replied, “Maybe I am a redneck and proud of it! Now get your behind over here and help your brother string the popcorn and cranberries.” Oh, man had she been grumpy and unpleasant to work with.

  My childhood was always filled with fantastic, traditional Christmases, and they really hadn’t stopped when I became an adult. She always had a way of making everything about Christmas magical right down to the personalized stockings on the mantle, to notes in said stockings that told us her hopes for our lives and how proud she was of us.

 Once I was done hauling some of the boxes in, I had worked myself back into sweating profusely and the abdomen below my belly button was starting to feel like a hot poker was stabbing me over and over in rhythmic pulses.

 Then, it was my mother’s turn to fawn and question my health. ‘Are you feeling okay?’

 “M’fine.” I grumbled as I grabbed a lemon-lime Gatorade from the fridge before I attempted to stand up straight like the proud Texan I am. All it did was make her give me that look. The look that said I better spill or she’ll have my precious nuts in a vice.

 “I’ve known you best your whole life, son. Since you were in the womb of my belly,” I had to cringe here because, gross. “I know when something’s wrong Jensen Ross. You had better fess up or I’ll…”

 Apparently not feeling well made me a tad bit suicidal, “You’ll what, show her my old, embarrassing pictures? Nice try, but she’s seen them all!” I couldn’t help smiling in triumph.

 “That may be true, but I am still your mother and I have my ways.” Her hands were reaching out to touch my forehead and if she made contact the charade would be over instantly.

 I backed a step away, “Everything is fine, momma.”

 We were in the stare down of my life and she was pulling out the tearful eyes and deeply concerned face only reserved for manipulation.

 Surprisingly, she was the one to cave first, “what are you doing with Y/N? You were just filing for divorce a month ago. Don’t you think this might be moving fast?”

 This. This I could answer with all the honesty I had left. “Momma, we’ve been moving towards this since her parents died that Summer. I think I… Mom, she’s my favorite person. She always knows what to do when I fall apart. She’s been filling in the holes to my marriage for years.”

 “Are you telling me you-?!” I could tell she had taken that whole statement the wrong way, but it was better to keep her distracted from the obvious. I wanted for Y/N, Mom and Dad to have the best holiday. A visit to the ER for a stomach virus? That was just stupid and I didn’t want to be viewed as a pathogenic mess on the holidays.

 “No, I’m talking the best friend part that Danneel was supposed to be. The part that puts me first and that I put her first. The part that doesn’t run away when I get a bad cold or have a metaphorical bump in the road. She’s the one I should’ve seen before. And, before you go jumping on that, I thought I loved her, Mom. I, fuck… I didn’t plan on getting a divorce and you know the last person I would’ve wanted to disappoint would be you. We never cheated, Mom.” Ugh, the fever I didn’t realize I had was making my eyes water like a pushed button.

 “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to make you upset.” The thought of my mother actually believing that I might’ve cheated was seared in my brain and left me caught off guard. So, when she leaned in for a hug, I didn’t resist and the impact of a firm hug from my mother cued up the best acting I’d done. Ever.

 I held in the grunt of pain created by just the small bit of pressure applied to my abdomen. With my face tucked against her neck, she couldn’t see me go red in the face.

 “You are a little warm, baby. Keep an eye on that, okay?” She patted my back in what would normally be a comfort but sent shock waves through my entire body. Like my nerves were too sensitive and on freakin fire.

 “I will, Mom.”

Tagging Forever’s: (I know I haven’t written in a while. So, if you would like for me to take you off the list just let me know.) @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @jensen-gal, @theoneandonlysaucymo, @27bmm, @callmesatansprincess, @hbenth, @atc74, @ryansgirl5509, @mysteriouslyme82, @notnaturalanahi, @keepcalmandcarryondean, @sea040561, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @spn67-sister, @uniquewerewolfsuit, @ria132love, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @pretty-fortune, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @justanotherdeangirl, @weasleywinchester, @easelweasel, @akshi8278, @tas898, @mandymoiselle1970, @pansexualmeteorite, @wheresthekillswitch

Tagging CBD Only: @melissaj616, @katrena7, @deansdirtyduchess, @anticipate1003, @jellersquad, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @shamelesslydean

#Oh jensen #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x Y/N #Jensen Ackles fan fiction #Jensen Ackles rpf #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles angst #jensen ackles fluff #hollygopossum writes #come back down #supernatural rpf #supernatural x reader #supernatural x Y/N #Jensen Ackles Reader Insert #spnfanficpond guppy #guppy fic

[roystonwrites]

A Chance Encounter

This is a chapter of a story @kitistrasza​ and I had been working on a long time ago, that’s kind of fallen to the wayside. This was supposed to be the beginning chapter/prologue to the story, but we both ended up not really being fans of it. Nevertheless, I find it a decent one-shot. Hope you enjoy!

WARNING: Contains blood, gore, and animal death

A caravan of dragons marched down a muddy path. The sky was darkened with a thick blanket of clouds, no good for flight. Had it not been for their important mission; they would have stopped to rest, but theirs was a journey to Pracia, the largest Elven city on the Dragon Nation’s border. They had come to collect their annual tithe to Jene’shaya, Empress and Mother to all Dragons. This year it was especially important. Some of the elder Dragons had predicted a harsher winter, and perhaps even a shortage of food. Pracia had chosen to pay their tithe this year in salted meats, which they would no doubt find good use for as the frost set in and their hunters would barely find even a starved rabbit to satisfy their hunger. 

So they continued their tedious trek on foot, their great claws leaving imprints deep in the mud, their feet and legs covered with dirt. It had been a full moon’s cycle since they had hunted decent prey, but they pressed on. At their last stop in a village to the west, they had heard of a band of dragon-hunting assassins that frequented this road. Though they were easily capable of handling any mere man or elf that came their way, the caravan kept its pace nonetheless. Some dragons drew rough hewn wood and iron wagons behind themselves, staying mostly in the center of the formation. The larger dragons, some with large plates of bronze armor upon their underbellies, formed the front of the caravan. In the back, a few smaller dragons flew close to the ground, keeping a watchful eye for any foe that may be tracking them.

They were of many vibrant colors, Dragons of green, blue, yellows, some a combination of several, dotted the group. Their wagons carried various goods; pottery, masonry, various armors, but not a scrap of food was seen. The caravan had exhausted their supplies a few days ago, and had yet to come across any decent hunting grounds in the days since they had left the last pitiful excuse of a village.

Soon enough, one spoke up. “Keldresh.” A smaller dragon of a light iridescent cyan color said to the dragon in the front of the formation.

“Yes, sister?” The pale, nearly opalescent, white dragon responded, turning her head but still walking. “It has been several days since we’ve had a full meal, my lady. If we do not hunt soon, it’s very likely we will begin losing numbers. Our vanguard especially are suffering.” She spoke with a slight edge to her voice that gave hint to her rising concern. Keldresh sighed, looking toward the ground. The land they now walked through was bordered by two mountain ranges, the only food they could hope to find here would be ram, maybe with luck a lost sheep, but certainly not enough to feed all those in the thunder of dragons. “We’d have to hunt the rams here to extinction just to make a meal for us all.” She spoke in Draconic tongue, simple guttural noises to the uninformed. “If I’m right, there are forests to the north, not too far from some fields. If we can scale the mountain, we could perhaps find a herd of deer.” The young dragon spoke. “If we had the strength to scale the mountain, that just might be a good idea.” She said solemnly, she placed a claw to her chin, perhaps such a course of action would be truly a good idea, if a few of the younger, more energetic whelps looped around to the valley...

Her thoughts halted with a sense of urgency, Keldesh raised her wings toward the sky quickly, signalling the caravan to come to a halt. The caravan stopped not a moment afterward. Wheels came to a halt, those in flight came to the ground, and all that was to be heard was the gust of wind that greeted the group as they now rested their tired legs, waiting for their leader to speak. Though no words came. Keldresh stood still, her ghostly, near see-through,wings still outstretched. Her eyes slowly scanned the horizon. Far down the path, coming through the billowing fog, was a group of people clad in dark leathers and mismatched chainmail. Most of those in the forefront, held long pikes with wicked curved blades, those she could make out hidden among the stones and mountain crevices held bows knocked with arrows, their fletchings of earthen tones to blend into the scenery. She tensed at the sight, her wings going to her sides as she let out a hiss. The group of dragons tightened their ranks. Though this band of soldiers could not be more than two-hundred strong, They endeavored to not lose a single dragon. As the group neared, they soon came to a halt as an elf in the front raised his hand. The two parties were not far from each other, but all one could hear was the occasional clatter of metal on metal from the chainmail armor, as dragon and soldier stared at each other in silence. An elf, a tall being clad in bright crimson armor, dented from many battles, as scarred as the man himself, spoke, his voice echoing through the mountain range. “We are the Army of the Free-Folk. Two-hundred and fifty strong. We come from Pracia, where our families suffer from your annual tithe. You come to take that which does not belong to you, but the hard working farmers of our city.” He continued. The soldiers behind him were silent. “Word has traveled far of the harsh winter your elders have predicted. We have come, acting of our own accord, to bring an end to you monsters taking advantage of us.” As if on cue, the troops raised their weapons and yelled, barking insults at the great beasts in front of them. Keldresh looked down upon the elven leader, and spoke in what common language she knew. “Your kind do not frighten us. We have traveled days on end for this, we’ve spent several nights going to sleep without food. Your army, if it could be called an army, will not make us turn back.” She spoke, not taking a step forward, but keeping her piercing gaze on the elf below her. “Surely you fear to lose even one?” He responded, “Your people are dying, beast. You’ve no way to replace the sisters you lose if you continue on this path.” Keldresh let out a low growl.

“You say that as if we will lose any.”

In an instant, she took to the sky, as did the rest of the dragons that followed her. They flew above the small fighting force, safely out of range of their weapons, a few dozen dark silhouettes circling the clan like vultures. The leader yelled out a command in some elven tongue, and the clan began to make a circular formation; those with spears making up the outer edge while those with bows stood in the center. For a moment, all was quiet.

In the dark vortex above, a dragon came surging down towards the soldiers. Archers let arrows fly, and those with spears to spare hurled them towards the dragon; a large streak of bright emerald flame hurtling towards them. Though many shots made their mark, the dragon made contact with the ground, sending out a shockwave that knocked many soldiers to their backs. She let out a great roar, digging her claws into the poor souls trapped beneath her massive body, leaving them rent to pieces in a bloody mess. The group quickly moved out of range of her snapping teeth, her neck whipping about like an angered snake. A hissing noise was heard amidst the yelling, and soon smoking arrows were let loose in a second volley. As the arrows hit their mark on the great beast’s hide she found herself blinded in clouds of thick smoke, letting loose an angered roar that shook the mountain pass. She back pedaled into the stone walls as she found herself blinded by this mortal trickery. The group took this chance, charging toward the dragon, the pikemen jabbing their weapons into her pale exposed underbelly. As she doubled over in pain, her snapping mouth in her panic claiming another soldier, the troop took to climbing over her back like ants, hacking at her wings, her neck, and legs, until eventually she fell silent, not even able to take flight. Blood leaked from many so many wounds by the time her body hit the ground a river of crimson had formed at the tips of her claws. The group wasted no time celebrating their kill, quickly moving away from the dragon’s corpse and stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades. As they moved, two more dragons came to the fight, roaring in rage at the loss of their sister. One breathed a stream of fire into the crowd, setting many of the annoying creatures ablaze, while the other, set upon the crowd with her back claws, pulling the earthbound beings into the sky and dropping them like a robin's egg from a tree. Dragons swooped and roared, arrows dug deep into the scaled hides of many, bodies were strewn about the blood-soaked mud of the path, as the battle grew fierce and brought many crashing to the cold ground. The red-clad leader found himself victim to Keldresh herself, who swooped down from the clouds, picking him from the crowd as the other soldiers were distracted. Her blade-like teeth crushed his bones beneath his armor, and he let out a scream of agony until she bit completely through him. Just as suddenly as it had started, the battle was over. Several bodies of dragons, and every one of the soldiers that had not fled the scene, lay in a disorganized heap. Bent spears, broken bows, and rings chainmail that had been torn apart with claw and tooth lay scattered in the mud. Keldresh, still pulling a few arrows from her hide, spoke up to the rest of the crowd. “How many did we lose?” A smaller dragon spoke up. “Seven, my sister. These soldiers were not a simple militia.” Keldresh bowed her head in agreement. “There is more to this than we see, I believe. We will make sure to discuss with with the governing ruler of Pracia when we get there. Until then, lick your wounds and prepare to march. If we are lucky, there may be something left of their abandoned camp we can pick from for rations and resources to help on our journey.” “...And our dead?” The small dragon inquired. Keldresh thought for a moment. “Leave them, we’ve no time to send them off, we can collect them on our return if the weather turns in our favor.” The dragons did what they could to treat their wounds, the more desperate picking up a member of the slain militia to eat, and they left, their massive prints pressed deep into the muddy trail as they continued on their journey.

#RWfantasy #Fantasy #short story #writing #dragons #dragon #elves #elf #war

[tmariea]

Blind Date, ch 5

Me:  throws game-accurate geography entirely out the window for my own purposes. It will probably only get worse from here.

Read from the beginning

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“Lailah,” Mikleo muttered into his phone as he paced down the hallway and back, “what do I do?”  He was glad most of the other students went home for the holiday break; it was much more satisfying to pace out there rather than in his tiny room.

“I know you’re nervous,” came the caring voice down the line, “but everything will be just fine.”

“I know, I know.  But I’m meeting his grandfather, the man who raised him, for the holidays, and I just…” he trailed off and put a hand over his mouth, trying to calm the anxious flutter in his stomach.

“It makes you worried anyway.  I get it.  It’s a milestone.”

“Yeah.”

“But has Sorey ever given you reason to believe this is something you need to be worried about?” Lailah asked.

Mikleo paused at the end of the hallway and then spun on his heel.  As soon as Sorey had heard that he would be spending the entire break on campus, because six weeks was too long away from his job, but airfare was too expensive to justify going home for only a few days over the Winter Solstice, he had made the offer.  As if it was the simplest thing, almost expected even, that if Mikleo wouldn’t be able to see his own family, that he would be welcome in Sorey’s home.

“Well, no, but… what if it’s awkward?  What if his grandfather doesn’t like me, or doesn’t approve?”

“Mikleo,” she said, and this time her voice sounded a bit stern, “You just said Sorey made it seem like you shouldn’t worry.  Now, I know it’s hard to help being somewhat anxious, but thinking of all the ways things could go wrong isn’t useful.  You’ll just work yourself up even more.”

“I suppose so.”

“Good.  And you can always talk to him about it when he gets there.  How long will it be?”

“About an hour.”

“So just distract yourself until then.  Have you packed?”

“Yes, mom,” Mikleo said with a roll of his eyes.  He could swear it was possible to sense Lailah’s annoyance through the phone.  “I’ll just watch TV or something until then.”

“See that you do,” she replied, her phrasing doing nothing to help with the ‘mom’ accusations.  “A Bright Solstice to you, Mikleo.”

“Bright Solstice to you, too, Lailah.”

He listened to the other side of the line click off before making his way back to his bedroom door, which he had left open.  Just to the side was a duffle bag.  He had debated bringing his backpack, but then there was the chance of his clothing for visiting the temple that night getting wrinkled and that just wouldn’t do.  On top of the bag were two small, wrapped parcels.  One contained simple frosted holiday cookies, his best attempt at a thank you gift for Sorey and his grandfather for their generosity.  He was confident enough in his baking skills that the cookies would be received well.  However, the other package, Sorey’s present, gave him even more nervous flutters.  He had been working on it for the last few days, and he hoped Sorey would like it.

Mikleo turned away from the presents, deciding that Lailah was probably right about working himself up more, and opened his laptop once he was situated on his bed.  Watching a cooking competition show would do well enough for passing the time.  It was the kind of thing he could get sucked into easily, without demanding much mental capacity.

In the end, it worked perhaps a bit too well.  He was too busy yelling at one of the final contenders through the screen for being unoriginal for making bread pudding to notice when he got a text.  When his phone started ringing, he flinched and his laptop tilted off to the side, thankfully toward the wall.

One scramble through his pockets later, Mikleo picked up to Sorey’s warm voice saying, “Hi babe, I’m here, outside your dorm.”

He could feel his cheeks heat, both from the pet name and in realizing he must have missed the text.  “Ah, sorry, sorry, I’ll be down in a second.  Have you been waiting long?”

“Don’t worry, you’re fine.  I’ll see you in a minute.”

Mikleo shrugged on his coat, shut off his laptop and stuffed it in his bag.  He scooped the bag up in one hand and the presents in the other.  After he locked his door, he took the steps down two at a time to where Sorey waited.  Through the window, he could see that his big grin was only half-visible above the scarf that covered the lower portion of his face against the cold.

“Mikleo, I missed you!” Sorey said and pulled him into a hug as soon as he walked out the door.

“Hey!  Watch out or you’ll crush your presents.  And you came down to visit just two weeks ago.”  And, every day that they hadn’t seen each other, they had stayed up on phone calls and video calls far later than was probably reasonable with his hours at work.  Despite his protests, Mikleo squished his face into the faux fur collar of Sorey’s winter coat and said, “I missed you, too.”

“Hmm, cute,” Sorey murmured in his ear.

Mikleo took a quick step back and crossed his arms, bag swinging.  “I am not.  Now, can we go?  It’s cold out here.”

“Whatever you say.”

They started towards where Sorey’s car was parked in the lot.  It was his grandfather’s car in truth, an old, dark blue sedan, which looked good for its age aside from the scratch shaped like a lightning bolt in the driver’s door.  Much to Mikleo’s relief, it was also still warm inside.  He slid his bag under his feet and settled the packages on top.

“Presents, huh?” Sorey said as he shut his door and started the car.  There was curiosity, and maybe just a bit of begging in his tone.

“One is just some spice cookies for you and your grandfather as thanks.  The other, you will have to wait for tomorrow to open.”

“Does that mean I can have the spice cookies now?”

“No.”

“Mikleo!” Sorey whined and pouted.  He did have a good pout but Mikleo had better resolve than that.

“No.  You’ll just eat all of them.”

“What if you give me just one?  Please, babe?”

So much for Mikleo’s resolve.  “Fine.  Just one.”  He undid the tie on the mesh bag he’d wrapped the cookies in, and then tied it back up as soon as he’d pulled one out.  They were shaped like stars and sunbursts, traditional for the Solstice, and frosted with a light yellow lemon glaze.  He handed it over and brought his fingers to his lips while he waited for Sorey’s reaction.

Sorey glanced over for a second as he pulled out onto the main road one-handed.  “You do that every time you’re waiting for me to taste your food.  It’s cute.”

“Urgh, stop it.”

“Would you prefer if I called you handsome?  Or beautiful?”

Thankfully, Sorey’s eyes were still on the road as Mikleo flushed and turned his face towards the window.  It made his chest feel warm to hear these things, but it was still embarrassing.  “I doubt you’ll listen if I say not to,” he mumbled out in the direction of the passing town.

“Mikleo,” Sorey said, suddenly serious, “If it’s something that truly bothers you, I will stop.”

“I-it doesn’t bother me that much.”

“Okay, good!”

Mikleo looked back as they pulled up to a stoplight, to see Sorey bring the cookie to his mouth and take a bite.  Now that the behavior had been pointed out, he noticed his fingers drifting back towards his lips and stopped himself.

“I doubt I’m ever going to stop complimenting your cooking, though,” Sorey said, through his bite of cookie.  “This is so good!”

A smile curled up the corners of Mikleo’s lips and his shoulders straightened under the honest praise.  “Well, thank you.  But don’t think you’re going to weasel another one out of me like that.”

“Aw, really?  That’s alright.”

Sorey turned back to his driving, and Mikleo back to gazing out the window.  Now that Sorey was happily munching on his cookie, the sound of classic rock playing quietly from the radio was the only noise in the car, and that wasn’t quite enough to distract from his anxieties.  Lailah had probably been right; he should just talk about it rather than letting himself stew.

“Sorey,” he started, and then paused.  Sorey made a noise of acknowledgement to indicate he was listening.  Mikleo took a deep breath and continued.  “I’m nervous.”

“Nervous?  What about?”

“Meeting your grandfather.  What if it’s awkward, or if he doesn’t like me?”

“Oh, well you don’t need to worry about if Gramps will like you!  I’ve told him all about you.”

Mikleo turned back from the window and raised an eyebrow.  “I don’t know if that’s supposed to be reassuring.”  He did feel somewhat reassured, thought, hearing it from Sorey’s mouth.

“Come on, I wouldn’t say anything bad!  Besides, after all of the trouble I had last year, I think he’s just happy I’ve found someone like you.”  He took one hand off the wheel and held it out as an offering.

“Oh,” Mikleo mumbled, and flushed.  He did take Sorey’s hand, and squeezed it to convey his thanks.

Sorey’s mouth pulled up into a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, before drawing his hand away to take the wheel again.  “It will be awkward, though, mostly for me.  I got stuck in a lot of places in the Mabinogio Ruins as a kid, and now Gramps has a full photo album of it, as evidence of his ‘idiot grandson.’”

“That, I will have to see.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I most certainly would.”

“I’m beginning to regret inviting you over after all,” Sorey mumbled in the direction of his windshield, but nothing in his facial expression matched his words.

“Too late now.  You’ve already eaten one of the cookies, so you can’t back out.”

“No, I guess I can’t. And if I did, I’d miss out on spending our first Winter Solstice together.”

Mikleo was blushing again, but he let it go without comment.  Once again, there was nothing left to fill the silences in the car but the radio, but this time it was comfortable.  Mikleo found himself relaxing back into the seat, and contemplating a nap.  He had been too nervous to sleep well the night before.

As if he had read Mikleo’s mind, Sorey mentioned, “You can sleep if you want, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the mountains.  You’ve never seen them up close before, have you?”

“Only from airplanes, or in pictures.  I doubt that really compares.”

“No, it doesn’t.  You’ll love them.  But for now, rest, okay?”

“Well, if you insist.”  Mikleo let his eyes drift closed.  As he was falling asleep, he could swear he heard Sorey start singing softly to the radio.

He woke some time later to a hand on his shoulder, and Sorey saying, “We’re getting close.”

Mikleo shifted up in his seat from where he’d slid down slightly as he slept, and tried his best to stretch.  It was not easy given the space, and the need to not whack the driver in the head or obscure his view of the road.  Once he’d worked his shoulders out to the best of his abilities, he turned his attention to the view out the window.

It was beautiful.

Extending in all directions in front of them were peaks, still far enough away that he could see several of them at once, all purple and green and dusted with snow.  Mikleo breathed out a breath he hadn’t quite realized he was holding and leaned forward in his seat.  He stretched as far forward as he could before the seatbelt locked up, and started unashamedly.  There were some hills around the college, but nothing near to this.

“What do you think?” Sorey asked, voice rife with curiosity and excitement.

“This is so cool!”

“I’m glad you like it.  Before leaving for college, I’d pretty much spent my whole life ‘with my head in the clouds’ up in Camlann, like Gramps likes to say, so the mountains mean a lot to me.”

Mikleo nodded, which he couldn’t be certain Sorey had seen, and continued watching as they approached.  Just as they were hitting the foothills, he was struck by the sheer size of it all.  When they were further away before, he could tell that the mountains were tall, yes, and a pretty image, but he hadn’t quite counted on the way they would loom once the car was in their shadow.  And even then, he had a feeling that these were small peaks.

The next thing worth noticing was that his ears were bothering him, much the same as they would fill up with pressure on an airplane.  This wasn’t quite such a sudden or violent pressure, but more persistent.  He stretched his mouth into a wide yawn to pop them, and Sorey mentioned, “There should be a pack of gum in the center console.”

“Hmm, thanks.”  Mikleo reached to the side and felt around blindly for a moment before grabbing the gum and sticking a piece in his mouth.  All the while, he kept his eyes out the window, where the road began to curve around the edges of the foothills, following the natural dips in the land between the first of the mountains.

There was snow up here, although not as much as he had expected.  The north sides of the mountains lay under a soft, full sheet, and in some places it had drifted up into larger piles with sheer edges.  Pines and other evergreens were just a peek of green under their dusting, while skeletal, bare-branched aspens almost disappeared into the landscape.  The southern slopes, on the other side of the road, were a different story.  Here, the snow covering was inconsistent, and in places the rocks and ground were exposed underneath.  It created stark patterns with harsh lines in white and black and grey.  Mikleo’s eyes would probably get tired from the glare from the small amount of sunlight seeping through the clouds if he stared at it too long, but he didn’t care too much.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his breath fogging against the glass.

“Yes, you are,” Sorey said from behind him.

Mikleo started; he didn’t think he had spoken loud enough for Sorey to hear.  Then he turned away from the wonderful scenery so he could glare.  “Ugh that was so sappy.  Worst cliché line in the book.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“You could at least show a little remorse.”

“Nope.  I bet if we dressed you up right, you would look like a snow prince, with the mountains as your domain and beautiful halls carved in ice and frost.”

“Stop that,” Mikleo said.  He was able to feel the heat in his cheeks as he brought up a hand to hide his blush.

In spite of the protest, Sorey kept going.  His voice was starting to sound distinctly dreamy, and his own cheeks were a light pink but he didn’t seem to care.  “You could wear a white cloak trimmed in soft fur, and a crown of silver and sapphires.”

Mikleo was tempted to slap a hand over Sorey’s mouth to stop the outpouring of this ridiculousness, but it would probably interfere with his driving.  That would be especially bad, as the road curved and climbed, with only the cement highway dividers separating them from the small river it followed.  Instead, he said, “D-don’t imagine strange things!”

Sorey pouted.  “I think it would be cool.”

“No, most definitely not.  Besides, I don’t need a crown in silver and sapphires.  I already have a circlet.”

“You have a circlet?” Sorey asked, confusion in his voice and on his brow.

Mikleo sighed and shifted in his seat.  He knew this was not a common thing for people to own.  “You know how I mentioned that my mother is a jeweler?  She made it for me.  She’s got one just like it, although that one’s an old family heirloom.  I really only wear it for special occasions, like for temple tonight.”  He leaned down to unzip one of the side pockets on his bag and brought it out.  He turned it over in his hands, feeling the curve of the ends, and running his finger over the delicate setting for the jewel in the center.

Sorey glanced over for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.  “It’s lovely.  I want to see it on!”

“You’ll see it later, for temple.”

“Aww, Mikleo.”

“Impatient,” Mikleo said, with a shake of his head.  But he brought the circlet up to his forehead and brushed back his bangs so he could fix it in place.  He kept them held back, so the circlet was still visible.  “There, are you happy.”

Sorey looked over, and instead of turning immediately back to the road like he had before, he kept looking, for one beat and then another.  His face had flushed all the way up to the ears, and the dreamy expression was back.  “Very,” he stuttered.

“Eyes on the road!” Mikleo exclaimed, voice rising in pitch as they started to drift out of their lane.  Thankfully, the road was rather devoid of other cars, but that didn’t stop his heart rate from climbing.

Sorey corrected the wheel, and murmured an apology.

Mikleo put a hand to his chest. “I get the feeling you’re going to be the death of me, one day.”

“In a good way?” Sorey asked, a sly lilt in his voice.

“Oh, absolutely not.”

For the rest of the drive, they chatted in small bursts but were silent for the most part, Mikleo’s focus primarily saved for their surroundings.  It would be such a shame to miss the shapes in the craggy outcroppings here, or the tiniest glimpse of a half-frozen waterfall there, with only the lightest trickle of water still falling from underneath a cap of ice which looked more like it had flowed there rather than frozen.  They passed a lake in a wide valley, with the edges frozen over and dusted with snow, before turning off the highway onto a smaller road and starting to climb again.

“It’s a good thing there’s only been light snow this year,” Sorey remarked, as they made their way around the switchbacks.  “The town keeps the road clear, but it can be a real challenge in heavier years.”

“I can see how that would happen,” Mikleo said, suddenly far less interested in watching outside the car.  The way the wheels seemed to cling to the edges of the road on the tight curves made him nervous.  He had no idea and no desire to find out if the road would even be wide enough to accommodate two cars passing each other on the way up and down.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Nothing of the sort!” Mikleo hurried to reply, to a chorus of Sorey’s laughter.

“It’s alright, I’ll keep you safe.”  Sorey seemed far too delighted to have this task.

At the top of the pass, where the road finally flattened out, were two signs one right on top of the other.  The top read “Camlann, pop. 734” and below it was a sign declaring that the Mabinogio Temple Ruins were a part of the National Parks system, and a protected historical landmark.

“Will we be able to see Mabinogio?” Mikleo asked, not even bothering to disguise the excitement in his voice.  One of the perks of dating Sorey was that he would totally understand any excess excitement over ruins, archeology, or other historical interests.

“Ah, no, I’m sorry,” Sorey said, and glanced over just as Mikleo felt his face visibly fall.  “The stairs down and the ledges along the cliff are too hazardous if there’s any kind of ice at all.  It’s strictly closed in the winter.”

“I see,” he acknowledged and glanced out the window for a second to see the tiny town passing by.

“Gramps had a time of it keeping me out during the winter as a kid, but I’m glad now.  Some of those stairs,” he paused to shudder, “I’ve nearly slipped down them in good weather.  But, I guess that means I have an excuse to get you to come back and visit in the summer!”

Mikleo smiled and covered part of it with his hand.  “I guess you do.”

“Yes!” Sorey celebrated, and then focused back on turning off the road, onto a private driveway that snaked even further up the hill and away from the other houses for another few hundred feet.  “Here we are!”

Mikleo couldn’t help but look up at the house, impressed, as they pulled to a stop and he climbed out of the car.  It wasn’t the largest home in town, but it certainly looked to be one of the oldest and fanciest.  A covered porch wrapped three quarters of the way around the front and one side of the building, supported by detailed columns.  The moldings and roof lines were decorated with intricate trim accented in yellow, and starting under the peak of the roof the shingles were painted in a gradient of colors from a dark blue that bordered on indigo all the way down to the lighter blue color of the rest of the house.

“This is beautiful,” Mikleo said.

As he had been staring, Sorey had come around the other side of the car and retrieved Mikleo’s bag.  He slipped his free hand into Mikleo’s, and said, “Thank you.  It’s over a hundred years old, so Gramps and I have taken an interest in preserving it.”

“You’ve done a good job.”

“Must be, if you’re complimenting me on it.  Now, shall we go meet Gramps?”

“Ah, yes, we should.”

Sorey gave Mikleo an understanding smile and another squeeze to his hand before leading them up the steps.  As soon as they were through the door, Sorey called, “Gramps, we’re home!”

A white-haired man stood from an armchair in front of the fire crackling in the parlor just off the entry way and came to meet them.  He had a stern brow and mouth, but what was visible of his eyes between the folds of his face were alight with both intelligence and excitement.  In a strange way, Mikleo could see a bit of family resemblance there.  He was also much shorter than Mikleo had imagined, over a foot shorter than him, even.  He tried to not let his surprise show on his face, or that he had nerves churning in his stomach again.

Before he had too long to work himself up, though, he was being offered a gnarled hand.  He took it, and found a stronger grip than he would have expected from appearances.

“I’m Zenrus, and you must be the Mikleo I’ve heard so much about.”

“Yes, nice to meet you, sir,” Mikleo said, taking extra care to make sure he wouldn’t stutter on this all-important first introduction.  “Thank you for inviting me for the holidays.”

“Of course.  By the way he tells it, you’ve done a lot to help Sorey settle in well at Elysia.  It’s the least I could do.  I’ll leave you to put your things away; I know that Sorey has straightened up all his books and made his room presentable for you,” Zenrus turned a piercing eye up at his grandson.

Sorey laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yes, Gramps.”

“Good.  Now, there won’t be too much time before temple, with how early the sun sets up here, but if you both change quickly, I might be able to show you photos of some of the research and preservation work that’s been done at Mabinogio recently.  Sorey said you had an interest.  And, there might even be a few pictures of my idiot grandson getting into places he shouldn’t in the bargain.”

Zenrus went back into the parlor while Sorey tugged Mikleo towards the stairs at the end of the hallway.  He looked over his shoulder briefly to mouth, ‘I told you,’ before resuming pulling him along.

They did manage to change relatively quickly, with only minor stalling for Sorey to trip over his tongue once Mikleo was dressed in his nicer clothing for the evening, and then to take an opportunity to swoop in and kiss the jewel set in the center of his circlet.  Another moment was lost to Mikleo blushing and hiding his face in Sorey’s chest.  But, they did still make it downstairs in time to see the pictures Zenrus had promised.  As one of the supervisors on the park, he had many, well-supplemented by a large supply of pictures of small Sorey stuck in some very strange places.  Mikleo tried not to laugh as best as he could, and Sorey took the experience in stride, with only minor blushing and small embarrassed laughs to match.

At dusk they made their way down the hill to Camlann’s small temple, to pay respects to Maotelus and his Lords.  The service was full of song and flickering candle light that danced on the stained-glass emblems in blue, green, red and gold, as they prayed for Maotelus to renew his light in the coming year, and the blessings of the Lords to be maintained over all of their elements.  It was so similar to home, Mikleo thought, and that helped to chase away any lingering anxiety he might have felt.

It was just the two of them on the way back up the hill later, as Zenrus would be staying behind with some of the other more devout members of the temple, to keep vigil and pray during the deep darkness of the long night.  He would rejoin them in the morning, for the feasting and present exchanges held at dawn in celebration of the new light.

“Gramps said he left some Drago Stew on in the crock pot for us for dinner.  And then, there are the traditional fireworks at midnight.  Other than that, did you have anything in particular in mind that you wanted to do?” Sorey asked, and then waited for Mikleo to shake his head.  “What would you say to cheesy kid’s holiday movies, then?”

“That sounds fine,” Mikeo said, and then reached out for Sorey’s hand.  He hissed as soon as his fingers came in contact; Sorey’s fingers were cold as they touched the back of his hand.  He raised their linked hands so that he could blow open-mouthed breaths on them.  “On second thought, maybe you should open your present tonight.”

“Wait, really?  I thought you wanted to be all traditional about it.”

“Well, if you don’t want to open it now, I suppose it can wait for tomorrow.”

“No way, I want to open it now!”

The corners of Mikleo’s mouth turned up as he got the reaction he had expected.  He gave Sorey’s cold hand one more squeeze and then released it so Sorey could unlock the door to the house.  

“Alright, wait down here, I’ll go get it.”  Mikleo darted up the stairs to retrieve the package he’d left next to his bag, and also took a moment to change into more comfortable clothing.  When he came back down, he found Sorey in the small kitchen, taking down bowls.  Just as expected, there was a crock pot with just the faintest trails of steam leaking from under the lid, sitting on the counter next to a stove that looked like it might be as old as the house itself.

“Since you were complaining about my cold hands, I figured we could both use some warming up.”

“Thank you,” Mikleo said, with a nod.  He waited until Sorey had put down his dishes before holding out the box.

Sorey took it with a smile and began carefully pulling apart the wrapping at the seams.  Mikleo was surprised; he’d figured Sorey for a ‘tear it to shreds’ kind of guy.  But, he was much more interested in watching for the reaction as Sorey opened the box.  It was well worth it when his mouth dropped open.

“Mikleo, these are… these are amazing,” he announced, and scooped one of the two gloves out of the box to look at it closer.  It was a white mitten, the type where the top could be folded back to expose fingerless gloves on the inside.  Mikleo had sewn gold ribbon around each of the open fingers, and red beads at the cuff – although he was still a bit put out that he’d had to use smaller beads than the historical design – and then painstakingly stitched the Shepherd’s crest onto the back of each.  “Did you make these yourself?”

“Yeah, I did,” Mikleo said, and felt himself blushing over the intensity of the light in Sorey’s eyes as he looked at him.  He cleared his throat and continued, “You seemed so excited about the legend when we were talking about it a few weeks back.  I thought it was something you might like.”

Sorey set the box aside so that he could pull a glove onto first one hand and then the other.  “I love them!  Thank you, Mikleo, so much.”  He stepped forward to pull Mikleo into a tight hug, who gladly curled into the hold.  Even if Sorey’s hands had been cold, the rest of him was wonderfully warm.

“I didn’t know you knew how to embroider,” Sorey murmured into his hair, after a long moment of just holding him.

“Not really.  I’ve always done the mending, but never anything this fancy before.  I ended up watching a lot of online videos.”

Sorey pulled away so he could look at Mikleo’s face again.  “That’s even cooler!! More cool?”

Mikleo laughed, and turned around so they could stand side by side.  He nudged Sorey lightly with his shoulder.  “I don’t think grammar’s the biggest concern here.  I think the biggest concern is if you’re going to give me my present early, too.”

“And you called me impatient.”  Despite his teasing, Sorey was already making his way from the kitchen.

Mikleo turned back towards the counter and began serving up the stew, while he listened to Sorey’s footsteps on the stairs, and then creaking on the old floorboards above.  As he set the bowls at the two-person table tucked into a corner under the window, the footsteps began to creak back in the opposite direction and then down the stairs.  Sorey returned to the kitchen with a large, square package.

“It’s nothing nearly as personal,” Sorey said, scratching the back of his neck.  Mikleo noticed that while he had also changed into casual clothing, he still hadn’t taken off the gloves. He had buttoned back the mitten tops so he could still use his fingers.  It was adorable.

No matter how cute Sorey was, that wasn’t going to let him off the hook.  Mikleo treated him to a world-class deadpan look, perfected over months of acquaintance with Edna.  “You stop that, I’m sure it will be great.  Now, hand it over so I can decide for myself.”

Sorey passed over the gift with a sheepish look, and settled himself in one of the kitchen chairs.  He didn’t touch his stew, but instead watched Mikleo intently.

Mikleo peeled back the paper with just as much care, to find a book.  The title, in simple writing meant to not distract from the photo underneath, read “Cities in the Sky: Mabinogio and Other Cliff Dwellings.”  The photo was of the cliff face, with Mabinogio looking so much like a carving in the mountainside, done by a giant’s hand.  He’d heard of this book before – mostly photography, with some historical commentary, and only released in small quantities.  It was notoriously hard to get a copy   Mikleo had to stop for a moment to run his hand across the photo, and to wonder how in the world it was pictured from such a magnificent angle.  Was the photographer in an aircraft?  

“Sorey, this is amazing,” he said, and opened the cover.  The title page showed an image of the towering temple guardian in a grand hall.

“I think you may have seen some of these already out of the collection Gramps showed you earlier, but I’m glad you like it!”

“This is by Natalie Wainwright, of course I like it!  How in the world did you get one?”

“Ah, she actually lives three doors down, with her husband Mason.  They’ll be over for breakfast.”

“Wait, you can’t be serious?”

“Of course!  This is the best place to live if your living is photographing Mabinogio, after all.”

“I suppose it makes sense.  But wow.”  He was just a little jealous of how much history and research Sorey was able to grow up with.  But also very satisfied with his gift.

Mikleo was tempted to forget about dinner, and just spend all evening looking through the book, but he forced himself to set it carefully aside, out of danger of any spilled stew.  After dinner, they made their way to the living room, and settled onto the couch next to the chair Zenrus had been occupying in front of the fire earlier that day.  Just to the side of the fireplace, partially obscuring one side of a set of packed built-in bookcases, was an old, clunky TV.  It worked just fine for the purpose of finding cheesy holiday cartoons to pass the time until the fireworks.

Mikleo only devoted a small portion of his attention to the shows.  The rest of it he spent on flipping through the pages of his book and admiring the pictures.  Some he did recognize from Zenrus’ collection, but there were plenty of new ones to hold his attention.

Sorey, for his part, didn’t seem to mind that Mikleo wasn’t concentrating on the movies; he didn’t seem to be fully focused, either.  He’d situated himself behind Mikleo, and pulled him into his lap, with arms around his middle.  Relatively frequently, he’d press soft little kisses into the back and sides of Mikleo’s neck, picking a new spot almost every time.  Sometimes he’d also steal Mikleo’s hand, to play with his fingers, or rub circles on the back, only returning it whenever he needed the hand to turn a page.

All of it made Mikleo’s stomach twist in the best of ways, and did nothing for his concentration.  By the time it was getting close to the fireworks, he was glad for the excuse to stand and move around again, though; he’d been starting to get restless under the attention.  He closed his book and set it on the table in front of the couch, before rotating his torso and sliding his hand behind Sorey’s neck to claim a real kiss.  Sorey’s arms tightened around his waist for just a moment, before releasing him so they could go prepare hot chocolate, blankets and other cold weather provisions.

It looked like the whole town of Camlann had come out for the fireworks.  And nearly every person had a wave or a word for Sorey as they made their way past in search of a spot on the town square to set up with their blankets and thermoses.  Mikleo hung back at first while Sorey said quick hellos and exchanged Solstice greetings.  Then, Sorey nudged him with a shoulder and whispered, “They all want to say hello to you, too.”

“Ah, okay,” Mikleo mumbled, and he could feel his face heating but that could be blamed on the cold air on his cheeks.  He wasn’t used to so many strangers taking a personal interest in him.  But, in a way, it was nice to know that Sorey had such a close, friendly community.  He started returning Solstice greetings after that.

The spot that Sorey found for them was a bit away from the rest of the crowd.  They laid out one blanket on the ground, and threw the other over their shoulders once they were settled.  Mikleo passed Sorey one of the thermoses and then opened his own and held it under his chin so the steam would warm his nose.

Between the covers and the cocoa, he wasn’t feeling quite so cold anymore.  That didn’t stop him from scooting closer to Sorey until their sides were pressed together.  Sorey looked at him with a soft smile and then turned back to look at the sky.

“How long will it be?” Mikleo asked.

“It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes,” Sorey said.  He opened the top of his own thermos and took a big sip before flinching back.  He just narrowly avoided spilling hot chocolate all over the both of them.  “Hot,” he whined, and stuck the burnt tip of his tongue out of his mouth.

“Shocking,” Mikleo said, and blew on his own hot chocolate before taking a much more careful sip.

“You’re mean.  I think for that, you should kiss it better.”

The way Sorey said it was obviously teasing, but Mikleo liked that suggestion.  “Okay,” he said and turned his head for a kiss.  Sorey’s nose was cold as they nudged together, but his lips were warm and tasted of chocolate.  The hand that wasn’t holding his thermos came to rest on the ground behind Sorey so he could press just a bit closer.

This time it was Mikleo’s turn to jump, though, as they heard the whine and then boom of the first firework.  He glanced over to see the last of the fading blue sparks.  Two more tiny points of light ascending followed quickly on its heels, and they exploded in a shower of white and gold.

Sorey laughed and said, “See, I told you it wouldn’t be long.”

“Now who’s mean?” Mikleo asked, but he had hardly any attention for his own words.  He was too fascinated by the next firework – one that burst into strands of light, and then the end of each strand crackling and fizzing like a mini firework.  Those were his favorite kind.

The whole fireworks show was beautiful, and much longer and more impressive than he had expected for such a small town.  He watched, and took sips of cocoa between booms, and maybe slipped his hand into Sorey’s part way through.  After the finale was over, Mikleo’s voice sounded loud in the silence and his ringing ears.  “You should come and see the fireworks show at my place sometime.  They set them off out to sea, and they reflect in the water.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Sorey said, but his voice sounded odd, distracted perhaps.  Mikleo looked over to see him gazing out at the night sky; the stars were bright and thickly clustered over the dark mountain, the same way they would be out over the ocean back home.

“Is everything alright?”

“Hm?  Oh, yes.”  Sorey’s eyes shifted to meet Mikleo’s and they were bright.  He unwound a hand from their blanket cocoon and brought it up to cup Mikleo’s cheek.  He’d pulled back the covers of the gloves so he could caress his face with a thumb.  His head drooped forward until their foreheads touched and their breaths mingled between them in a warm, foggy cloud.

“What’s this about, then?”  Mikleo asked, even as he leaned his cheek into Sorey’s hand.

“You know how for the Solstice we’re supposed to celebrate light and joy, and all the things we hope for in the new year?  Well, I just wanted to say I’m so glad I met you.  You’re beautiful, and smart, and kind – well, when you’re not teasing me, that is.  All the time, I just want to be around you, and talk to you, and kiss you.”  He said the last bit quietly, and his eyes drifted, for a moment, down to Mikleo’s lips before coming up to meet his eyes again.  “Mikleo, I love you.”

“Leave it to you to make a speech out of it,” Mikleo mumbled, feeling his cheeks flame.  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about it before, though.  There had been little nudges here and there, in the warmth of Sorey next to him, in the way his face lit up with excitement at the smallest provocation, in listening to his sleepy voice on their late-night phone calls over the past month.  In the way all of this would make his chest and stomach squeeze with affection.  His chest was warm even now, and he felt more relaxed than he thought he would when he imagined hearing those words.  “I feel the same.”

Sorey grinned wide, and pulled his arms out of the blankets the rest of the way so he could crush Mikleo to him in a back-breaking hug.  He began raining kisses down on his hair and forehead, interspersing each with another declaration.

“Hey, hey!” Mikleo exclaimed and pushed at Sorey’s shoulders to gain a bit of breathing room from the hug, which was preventing him from taking in enough air.  “Just because you said it once doesn’t mean you have to say it a dozen times.”

Sorey loosened his hold and pulled back to examine Mikleo’s face.  At first, he looked a bit concerned and remorseful, but that disappeared in a flash.  He said, “Sorry,” as if he did not feel sorry in the slightest.  “But I think,” he paused her for dramatic effect and a tiny kiss to the tip of Mikleo’s cold nose, “I think you liked it.”

“No comment.”

“Hmm, if you insist.”

Sorey did release Mikleo from his grasp, stood and then offered a hand.  The tips of his fingers were cold where he hadn’t bothered to pull the mitten covers back across the gloves, but the fabric was soft and his grip firm as he pulled Mikleo to his feet.

Chapter: First | Previous | Next | Latest

#tales of zestiria #sormik #suremiku #mikusure #tmariea writes #mikleo #sorey #zenrus #lailah (toz)

[ohnohetaliasues]

Blood Raining Night{Chapter 30}

(Kat)

Yes, I know this is late, but I decided to finish the story. This is the last chapter that’s been posted, but it seems to be ongoing. Anyway, let’s begin. 

The last night was very stimulating from conversation about Reicheru's sister growing within Mew. It was not morning.

How is Mew pregnant is my qiestion? Pokemon lay eggs. 

Elaine came out of her room rubbing her eyes. "What's up mama?" She groggily spoke. "Don't worry about it Baby." Reicheru said as Elaine hopped up onto her lap. Breakfast was laid out. 

You know, I still wonder when the next episode of the fanime  is coming out. 

"Gimme fork please. nyu" 

Elaine instructed to Amirru. He gave her the fork and she shuffled a mouthfull of salad into Reicheru's mouth. "Good mama?"

Who eats salad for breakfast?

"Mmmmm yes. Very good. THank you sweetie." Reicheru and Elaine smiled. "Your like a mommy...BUT DON"T be one because its very hard to be young and have babbies. But every hardship is worth every moment with you, Baby."

This is too sugary. 

Off on the other side of the table Mew stirred her Captain cruch tragically, "What will I do..." Mew said.

Die.

Also, how do you stir your Captain Crunch* tragically? I’d like to learn to do that. 

"We'll help you raise your baby. I'll have a little sister and Tenshikuzu will have an aunt."

After all this time I’ve never gotten over TEHNSHIKUZU. 

"Yeah you're right..." Mew said. "This could be good for everyone!"

Teen pregnancy is not good for everyone. 

Reicheru had the tiniest bit of a smile on her face and turned her head towards Mew, "I wish times were better. I'm sure my daddy will be back for Tenshikuzu. There is no normal family right now...But we will be one once all this is done."

Mew left and Reicheru nuzzled her hair against Elaine's ear and spoke very softly into it like a babbling brook,

Oh god I forgot about the bad similies. 

 "We're going to go shooping for Mew's new baby! It'll make her feel more at ease and ready for her new life!"

That exclimation mark does not imply that she  ‘nuzzled her hair against Elaine's ear and spoke very softly into it like a babbling brook.’

Elaine put her hands on her big full cheeks and squeed, "SOUNDS FUN!" she said and was immediately hushed by a smiling Reicheru. Amirru wiped off Elaine and Reicheru's dirty ass faces and spoke, "Will you need assistance mam?"

Was that really necessary?

"oh thanks Ami! But no there are times when Tenshikuzu

or Yuki can allow me to look through their eyes. Elaine will be up for it today. You need keep Mew-chan calm." Elaine and Reicheru left, holding hands. "Nya~ON!"

The mall was full and loud with the heat of a woman very fat and angry.

I can’t even anymore.

 You could smell the cinnamon rolls, and that's all Reicheru knew was there until Elaine let her look through her eyes.

I’ve run out of anything to poke at this with. 

As the light came into her mind's eyes she gently squeezed Elaines hand...It had been the first she's seen since she was at the island with Yuki when Elaine was kidnapped. "What do we get mama?" Elaine walked her mom through the many shelves. "Well she will need baby clothes and a few how to baby books, and some baby chewable food..." BUMP! Elaine was so short and without noticing she ran Reicheru right into someone. "HEY! WATCH IT!" Came a very demanding and manly feminine

voice from giant pudding lips.

Does that seem racist to anyone else?

 "Do you just let your daughter lead you around like that?? You knew I was standing here!"

She’s blind.

Elaine looked up at the girl so Reicheru could see her, "Oh sorry," Reicheru sweated "I cant see too good and my daughter is helping me out..." Reicheru furry cat ears flatted in embarrassment. The girl had on a purple and black bikini with black short pants and had pink eyes with pink hair that was light blue at the tips almost like sharp cotton candy. "Baby we should go look in the clothes section..."

Rude people are rude to blind people. 

The girl thought about something hard and then stepped in front of Reicheru, "Eh!" She said stepping in front of Elaine, "you guys seem like you need help with taht. I'm Shartara Akainiku. you can call me Shart-San

HER NAME IS SHART. 

 or Sha-San if your lazy," she shookhands with Reicheru. "Oh hi..." Reicheru nervously shook her hand which was painted with pale blue nail polish. "I'm Reicheru and this is my daughter Elaine." "NYU!" Elaine squeeked. 

Die.

Shartara looked very unamused 

Same.

at the child and rolled her eyes to the other side of the store, but petted Elaine on the head and faked a "What a cute little girl."

She is literally me.

As they were picking out clothes and other things Shartara stayed behind them not saying much but texting a lot. "Ugh," she sighed, "this is kinda boring. I think your a bit late anyway your daughter isn't a baby."

Wow, Reicheru sure treats Elaine like a baby, so I’m not surprised that’s what she thought. 

"These things aren't for me their for a friend who will have a baby soon." Reicheru said as Elaine put a bib in the shopping basket. "She's really scared and she needs some help preparing. It's gonna be my little sister!" "AND MY AUNT!" Elaine said excidedly holding toilet paper. Shartara looks confused "Um...Okay." She grinned about something and then bent down to talk to Elaine, "Hey you know what sounds liek fun?" Elaine's eyes bugged in mystery and wonder like two red bubbles, "What Shart-San?"

I’m dying her name is shart.

"If we got...Cinnamon rolles!" she got Elaine very excited!

Cinnamon rolls are really good.

"Mama can we get some? PLEEEASE?" She tugged at Reicheru's pink dress. "Uh...Welll..." Reicheru was put on the spot, "Sha-San we really need to finish shopping for Mew and then we can get cinnamon rolls." Shartara took Elaine by the hand and started walking them to the food court, "live a little bit you guys," she said, "This is gonna be tons more fun then shopping for baby stuff!" They sat at a round table in the middle of the food court and stuffed gargantuous fluffy cinnamon rolls into their moths. Sweet cream cheese icing drooled from the corners of their lips and Shartara and Elaine looked very happy.

Reicheru shouldn’t be letting some woman she just met do this with her daughter. 

But this is Reicheru we’re talking about. 

"Now this is my kinda thing” Shartara said. "Isn't it Elaine?" Reicheru stood up and grabbed Elaine's sticky frosting hand, "Sha-San it was fun having you tag along and all..."

Good. Reicheru is actually being moderately responsible. 

Kill me.

"Oh yeah I didn't bring any money..." Shartara quickly threw her napkins down and backed away from the table "Your right Reicheru it was very fun. I'll see you guys around." She ran off texting.

Also, PAY FOR YOUR FOOD YOU MEDIOCRE DUNCE. 

"What the hell..." Reicheru was angrier than the bull "What a load of crap and that was weird. Id like to smack her!" "Shart-San is sugoi!" Elaine beamed with a glowing look on her face. Reicheru sighed.

Don’t speak bad Japanese please. 

"Sweetie I need to go to the bathroom. Could you take me there?" Reicheru asked. They walked thorough the mall until they found the bathrooms. "Okay Baby just wait on the benches in the hall. I can feel my way around in the bathroom door." Elaine did what she was told and sat on the benches which were in a different hallway next to the bathrooms.

Shartara is gonna kidnap Elaine, isn’t she.

As Reicheru was washing her hands and feeling her way to the door, she could hear something very strange. SCREEEETCH...CLUNK! Reicheru leaned her ear against the door. The noise was stop. Through Elaine's eyes she could see a smiling figure walking towards her from the bathroom hallway. It was Shartara. She was all happy and saying SOMETHING to Elaine but Reicheru could not hear what. 

Help.

Shartara got on one knee and told Elaine, "Hey you want to go do something fun?" She grabbed her hand.

Oh no. 

"But mama needs me to wait for her!" Elaine pouted.

"Don't worry kid women take a long time in the bathroom you know? You wouldn't understand it's lady business." Shartara pulled Elaine off the bench.

I called it. 

Frantically Reicheru jerked the bathroom door handle but the door wouldn't budge. She could see Shartara quickly lead Elaine away. "Elaine!" Reicheru screamed. "Don't do it come back! Come back! Don't trust her!!" She threw her body against the door over and over again. She kicked the door and felt around for something big, but nothing seemed hard enough to break the door. "Help!!!!" bloody tears of fear and pain dripped from her orange crush colored glass eyes.

It was like watching a horrible silent movie. She saw them looking at toys and having fudge fingers. Two figures walked up to them. One of them was Mew!

"Oh thank Kami..." Reicheru cried. "I can't believe it!" Another figure stood with Mew. It was... ...Reicheru?

We’ll probably have to wait a long time for the next chapter, so I’ll levae you guys here. Until next time!

~Kat

#blood raining night #ohnohetaliasues #Reicheru ketsuekineko-Oni #Reicheru Ketsukeneko-oni #Reicheru Ketsuekineko-obi #reicheru katsuekineko-oni #reicheru #mary sue #When Bad Fanfictions Attack #bad fanfictions r us #bad fanfiction #haemolacria #no

[therearemonstersinthedark]

Astronautical Ch 12: Bitter Water

A Guardians of the Galaxy Fanwork

Pairings: Peter Quill / Gamora (one-sided)

Genre: Adventure, general

Word Count: 6.9k

Rating: T to be safe

Links: Fanfiction.net || Ao3

Summary: Peter wakes up as a prisoner once more, but this time he has Drax and Groot, and the assassin on the other side of the bars probably can't be persuaded to help.

Author’s Notes: N/a

Chapter 12: Bitter Water

The waking world returned slowly, and brought with it a pounding in his skull and a dull ache in his bones. He had dreamed again, of something grasping for him as he fled in a blinding panic through colorful galaxies and stars that all blurred into bright smears as he passed. It was always so close, fingers brushing up the back of his neck as he pumped his legs until his lungs were on fire and threatening to burst. His heart was still hammering against his ribs even as the terror slipped away with his memories of the dream, and soon he could not recall what exactly he had been so frantic to escape.

As his senses returned, he became aware, first, of the very cold and very hard floor that he was laying on. His T-shirt provided no protection from the chill that seeped up into his body, and the frost that seemed to have formed in his joints. Next, he became aware of the flecks of rust on the bars drifting in and out of focus in front of his face. It was hard to tell between the poor light and the way they refused to sit still long enough for him to pick out the finer details, but they seemed to be made of a dull grey metal. Some of the bars were covered in scrapes and dents as though something very powerful and probably very, very angry had tried to hack its way out.

For a while he entertained himself with thoughts of who they were and how they had escaped. Any attempts at deeper thoughts slipping away like fish through his hands.

In time, his heart slowed to a less alarming rate and between the beats he made out the sound of someone else breathing behind him. With Herculean effort he managed to roll himself onto his back, discovering in the process that his hands were once again bound behind his back, this time with some sort of thick chain that dug into his hip and connected to a heavy ring that was bolted to the floor of the cell behind him. In the half-light, he made out the hulking form of Drax. The maniac was only a body length or so away, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands dangling limply between them where they were bound by their own pair of cuffs and chain, head bowed and back pressed against the back wall of the room they were in.

"Drax?" Peter croaked out. No answer came immediately, and at first he thought the man to be asleep, but then, slowly, he lifted his head to meet Peter with a cold gaze that made him have to swallow a lump in his throat.

"Do you see where your foolishness has led us?" He growled out. "Your assassin has betrayed us all and sold us out to her master, just as I feared."

Peter had no rebuttal to that and turned his eyes away. As his ability focus on single objects returned, he searched the rest of the room, or what he could see without having to move too much. Drax and himself seemed to be in a corner cell. Two of the walls and the ceiling were comprised of the same dark frigid metal that he was laying on, and the other two were made up of the dented metal bars. It took him three tries, but he managed to count out four cells on each side of an open hallway in the middle, so eight in total. The one he was in was pretty large as far as cells went, his prone form making up about a third of the length of one of the walls. At either end of the hallway was a heavy metal door, the close one looked significantly bigger and sturdier than the one on the far side.

In the cell next to them was Groot, hardly visible between the shadows and the thick bars. He was curled again into a ball, looking desolate and defeated. It appeared that in subduing him, his arms had both been hacked off, and a strange device had been affixed to his chest and shoulders. It vaguely resembled a pair of frisbees covering where his arms would typically regenerate from, but the rings of soft red light gave off a sinister air that he had never found before in the kid's toy, and it was likely that they were there to halt any attempts to regrow his limbs.

The room didn't have much else to offer beyond that. A number of what appeared to be lights were set into the ceiling, but only a few of them were on, giving out the dim lighting that they were sitting in now. There appeared to be a vent of some sort in the roof of his cell, much too small for Rocket to have fit through, even if he were here, and a dip in the floor in the back corner that was shared with Groot's cell that was probably a drain.

Judging by the solid metal walls and flooring, they were probably on a ship, but it was honestly just a wild guess at this point. He was pretty sure he wasn't on the Dark Aster, but with an entire universe of other possibilities, that didn't tell him much.

They were down there a long time before anything of interest happened. Peter was working through counting the bars in his cell for the fourth time when the lights suddenly brightened with an audible click. Peter groaned and rolled away from the bright lights, screwing up his stinging eyes and really wishing he could cover them with his arm.

There was the rattling of a chain sliding across the floor as Drax stirred, followed by the swish of the heavy door at the close end of the hallway sliding open.

The room had long since stopped spinning, and Peter rolled to his knees to watch as Gamora herself entered the room to stand in front of his cell. The sting of her betrayal was still sharp in his chest as she stared down at him through the bars. The bandages he had given her just a day or so before had been removed, a pale thin line of a fading scar wrapping down her left arm was the only evidence that the injuries had ever occurred. One hand rested on the hilt of the Godslayer, once more strapped to her hip.

"How did you...?" He didn't want to finish that sentence, afraid of the answer.

"Relax." Gamora seemed to understand his fear, a smile curling the corners of her lips. "It was easy enough to steal back and slip away. Those ravagers and their 'Eclector' can pay for their crimes against my father later. For now they are hardly a priority of mine."

He knew she was not-so-subtly threatening him with their eventual deaths, but he was actually just relieved to learn that she had not slaughtered them on her way out. The ravagers were tough and resourceful, and if anyone could keep them safe it was Yondu.

"I am here for another reason." Slender green fingers wrapped around a bar as she leaned closer. "The infinity stone. Where is it?"

Peter just blinked back, momentarily confused. As far as he knew, it should still be stored away on the Milano. The fact that Gamora hadn't found it meant that Nebula must have stolen it before slipping away. Any annoyance he might have felt at her sneaking behind his back was crushed under the wave of relief that Thanos did not have it back. Peter just shrugged his shoulders, seeing no reason to tell her anything.

"Hiding it from me is not a wise course of action, Starlord." She spat out his name like a curse word. "If I have to, I will rip that ship and every last crew member apart, bolt by bolt and limb by limb, until I find it. That centaurian isn't the only one who can use a tracer. I can track them down in a matter of hours if I need to."

"Be at ease, Gamora." A new voice soothed from the doorway. Someone that Peter didn't recognize stepped through the open doorway to place a pale bony hand on her shoulder. He was tall and almost wispy, with a sunken grey skin and huge watery eyes that made his face closely resemble a skull. Impossibly deep black robes draped over his form, with a gold and white panel that fell down his front and back, and wrapped around his collar. Despite the heavy resemblance to a frail old man, something in the back of Peter's mind was screaming that this man was dangerous. "No doubt the stone is wherever your sister has scurried off to. We will find it when we retrieve her, and Thanos can do with them both as he will. Lost trinkets and wayward children always find their way home."

Gamora relaxed at his touch and settled back from the bars slightly.

"Of course, Ebony Maw." She murmured.

"Please, Gamora, call me brother. With this latest triumph of yours, it will be no time at all before you take your place in the Black Order."

Gamora's eyes lit up and her back straightened at his praise, while Peter narrowed his own eyes. Black order? What the heck was a Black Order? And who was this Ebony Maw guy? Another one of Thanos' children? Whoever he was, he gave Peter the creeps. The stranger turned his attention to Peter, then. Huge watery eyes shining like a cat's and seeming to change color as they moved.

"And you must be Starlord. We've been looking for you for such a long time, it's a pleasure to finally meet in the flesh." His voice was low and soft, like a lullaby. "Tell, me, Starlord, how did you come upon this name of yours?"

"My-my mother." He found himself answering without thinking. "She used to call me her little Star Lord." Those huge eyes seemed to be pulling him in.

"Leave the weak-minded fool alone." Drax's harsh voice broke through the spell and pulled him back into the present.

"Ah, Drax the Destroyer." The man didn't look the least bit upset about the interruption. Those heavy eyes released him to regard Drax like an old friend, and Peter felt like he could breath a bit easier outside of their gaze. "En Dwi Gast has missed you, in your absence from his games. He will, no doubt, be relieved at the news of your return."

"He will soon be relieved of his head as well." Drax snorted back.

"Oh, Drax," Ebony maw chuckled. "You are always such a pleasure. A pleasure that must be cut short today, I am afraid."

"Our father will be hailing us momentarily, and I thought it might be prudent to include you in this debriefing." His bony hand slipped from Gamora's shoulder to fold neatly with his other as he turned for the door. "Say your goodbyes and join us on the bridge. Sister."

Gamora watched him leave with an unreadable expression.

"Gamora?" Peter asked tentatively. "Why are you doing this? You were free."

She whipped her head around to regard him with a filthy look.

"I do not need the likes of you to free me. We are not friends, and you should stop acting like we are."

"If I mean so little, why not just kill me when you had the chance?" He demanded, she hadn't killed any of them, she had to be playing some sort of long con here, right? He knew her. Senseless violence, these cold threats, it was all so wrong. "I know you care. About your friends, the galaxy. He murdered your parents, Gamora, how can you just stand there?"

"I don't know where you are getting this information, Starlord. Whether you made it all up in your mad dreams or my sister has played a cruel trick on you, but Thanos did not murder my parents. He saved them. And as soon as I deliver you and take my rightful place in the Black Order I can ensure their safety under his rule forever." Peter blinked owlishly up at her. Nothing she was saying was making any sense.

"As for why you are still breathing, we are all under very strict orders to apprehend you alive." She informed him coldly, a cruel glint in her eyes as she leaned in to continue. "I lied about that rodent on Half-world. I know experiment 89P13 very well - my father's favorite little attack dog- and he is no doubt paying very dearly for that stunt he pulled, firing a lethal weapon at you."

"What?" He gasped, dumbstruck, but she was already turning away towards the exit. "Wait! Gamora! You said he'd be fine!" Peter screamed, leaping after her only to hit the end of the chain and fall back down, smacking his knees painfully against the unforgiving floor. "Come back! Gamora!"

But she didn't look back, the swish of her hair was the last thing he could make out as the door slid shut behind her and the lights dimmed.

"Do you never learn?" Drax grunted in disgust.

"I guess I don't." He sighed, feeling suddenly very tired again. "Who was that man?"

"He is known as Ebony Maw. A member of Thanos's Black Order. A cowardly, sniveling man who specializes in warping the minds of..." He trailed off as he regarded Peter through narrowed eyes.

"...of weak minded fools, yeah, I get it." Peter hauled himself to his feet and moved to sit against the back wall with Drax. There, he struggled to maneuver his bound hands in front of himself in a move that the ravagers had taught him back when he was a child helping with their smuggling outfits. The cast made things a bit more complicated and for a bit he thought he would be trapped with one leg half-through his arms until their captors returned. With some creative contorting and cursing he eventually managed to get his hands in front of himself and slumped against Drax's arm. His head was still spinning from everything he had just learned, and he hugged his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead against them.

"Nothing here makes sense." He whispered. "We have to get out of here."

"Look around, Peter Quill," Drax snorted so hard that Peter could feel his hot breath against his arms. "there is no getting out. You will be delivered to Thanos for whatever he has planned for you, I will be returned to Sakaar where I will await my inevitable honorless death, and the tree will return to... whatever the tree had been doing on that Half-planet."

"I am Groot." The colossus groaned from the other cell.

"Don't worry Groot. I'm not letting them take you back there."

From next to him, Drax just huffed again and rolled his eyes, obviously unconvinced by Peter's poorly faked confidence. He knew that Drax was right. They were trapped, bound and chained, in a cell guarded by Thanos's favorite children. No one would be looking for them; the Milano was scheduled to leave as soon as she could fly, so Yondu wouldn't be the least bit surprised to find them all gone before morning, and the only person who could possibly know where they were or how to help was long gone. They were doomed in all ways that Peter could figure, and it was all his own D'asted fault.

-x-

He woke later, still leaning against Drax's side. The warmth radiating from the ex-gladiator's body staving off the worst of the chill from the dark cell.

"How long was I out?" Peter asked, pulling away enough to stretch his arms forward and let out a huge yawn.

"I do not know. I dozed off myself for a bit. A few hours at least. Nothing of note has happened."

Rubbing at his eyes, Peter wondered what had been on that needle that Gamora had stabbed him with. He felt like he'd slept an entire day away, but at least this time he woke up with a much clearer head.

Speaking of sleeping the day away, his throat was feeling parched and sandy.

"I don't suppose room service has come by to take our orders yet?"

"Who is room service? And why would anyone be taking orders from the prisoners?"

Peter just smiled to himself, enjoying the fact that Drax was talking to him again.

"Well, either way. Someone's got to come through eventually, right?"

'Eventually' turned out to be several hours later by the best of Peter's estimation. His last drink had been a couple of beers back on the Eclector, and that fact wasn't doing him any favors now. His throat was getting scratchy and he was developing a nasty headache from dehydration when the lights once again hummed to life and the door slid open.

Everything suddenly came to life as a small group of guards pooled in, dressed head to toe in a black canvas and leather armor that rustled as they marched in. They each had masks that obscured their features, and not an inch of skin was showing that could give Peter any clue as to what they were.

"Hey! Peter called out. Anyone know what time it is?"

The one in the lead stopped in front of Peter and Drax's cell and swiped a card through the panel on their door, sliding the heavy door to the side so two more who were carrying trays could enter and place them on the floor. While they did this, a second pair, carrying a large shallow bucket of water between them did the same to Groot's, cell, placing the bucket down by his feet. As one, they stepped back, sliding the doors shut with a coordinated bang and swept out of the room. As quickly as they had appeared they were gone, and with them the bright lights.

"Friendly bunch." He muttered as he scooted forward to grab the tray that had been placed in front of himself. As far as prison food went, this was actually pretty nice. A sandwich that looked like something he could have ordered from one of the more upscale restaurants on Xandar, and a couple of ripe fruits. On the corner of the tray was a smooth plastic mug filled with water that was sweet and cool as he chugged it down.

"You shouldn't drink that."

Peter was mid swallow when Drax spoke and startled him into breathing some of it in. The mug slapped to the ground as he bent over to cough and hack the liquid from his lungs. His eyes were starting to water and his stomach was threatening to revolt by the time he coughed up enough to take a deep breath again.

"Why?" He rasped out between smaller coughs, hands pressed against his burning chest.

"It is likely drugged." He was informed. "To make you docile, and easy to manipulate. Not that you need much help with that."

Drax was still slouched against the back wall, not making a move to take his own tray.

"Yeah, well-" He paused to hack up another couple of drops caught in his throat. "I kind of need water to live-" Another cough. "And air. Water and air. How long are we going to be here?" Poisoned or not, he'd have to drink something eventually.

Drax just heaved his shoulders into a shrug. "I do not know. It could be days. It could be weeks." Peter's heart sank at the thought of being stuck here for weeks.

"Is the food drugged, too?" He asked, casting a mournful glance at the very tempting plate of food.

"More than likely." Came the expected, but no less heartbreaking answer.

"Alright." Peter flopped back, wishing he had his duster, or at least his shorter jacket to use as a pillow, and stared at the blank ceiling. "So we're chained to the floor, behind some very thick bars with a keycard access, behind another solid door, guarded by at least two of Thanos's favorite children, probably drifting through the heart of enemy territory, on our way to meet Thanos himself in what could be days or weeks from now, and to top it off, nobody is looking for us, and all of our food and water is poisoned. Excellent."

It was a tribute to just how done with this Drax was that there was no answering remark about how this was all, in fact, the opposite of excellent.

-x-

With nothing but the arrival of meals to judge the passing of time by, Peter estimated that they had been there for almost three cycles by the time anyone beside the guards came down to visit them. Each cycle, as far as Peter was estimating them, consisted of three meals, the first usually something sweet that reminded him of breakfasts back on earth. They had something to the effect of fifteen minutes before the guards would return to gather their trays and, after the second meal, to escort them individually to the small door at the end of the hall that turned out to be a sparse bathroom.

On the first cycle, Peter was elated to discover that Gamora had failed to pat him down before dumping him in here, and he still had his handful of protein bars stuffed into a back pocket. It wasn't much, especially being rationed between both himself and Drax, but it was better than nothing while they were stuck down here.

On the second cycle, a bit after the breakfast meal had been collected, the lights flickered on and a series of beeping alerts filled the room just moments before water started spraying down from what Peter had thought was a vent in the ceiling. The drops were thick and within moments Peter and Drax were drenched.

"Drink." A slap on the shoulder forced him to look up from where he had curled in on himself to shield his body from the worst of the downpour. Drax was standing next to him with his head tilted upwards and his mouth held open. "This water is clean."

Forcing himself to uncurl, Peter shut his eyes against the water and managed to catch a couple mouthfuls of the bitter water before it suddenly shut off again.

It was only later, when he lay shivering in the dark and pressed once more against Drax's side, playing with his now very damp cast, that he would think to ask how Drax seemed to know so much about this place.

"I believe this is the same ship that carried me to Sakaar the first time." Drax grunted, pointing towards one of the worst of the dented bars. "I did that when one of the other cellmates reacted poorly to the poison and fell ill. The guards refused to give aid and their death was slow, and agonizing. He was hardly more than a child."

Peter didn't ask any more questions for a while.

On the third cycle the lights came on again only a few minutes after the breakfast meal had been served and the guards returned with Ebony Maw in the lead. He tutted as he stared down at their untouched plates.

Each meal, Peter and Drax had dumped some of the poisoned water down the drain to make it appear that they had, at least, been drinking a bit. As far as Peter could tell, there were no cameras down here, but it would be a pain if they got the notion that they were using the showers to avoid drinking the drugged water and shut them off. Not that Peter would miss the freezing cold water that rained down and soaked his clothes. There was really no point in even pretending to have eaten the food.

The strange old man made no comment, however, just waving a hand impatiently at a guard who quickly stepped forward to unlock the cell door. Two more followed him in, grabbing Peter by the arms and hauling him to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Drax demanded, leaping to his own feet and advancing on the guards, but the guards were holding Peter just out of his reach.

"Do not concern yourself so, Drax." Ebony Maw sighed, eyes not leaving Peter, who was struggling to avoid his haunting gaze, and instead focus on how the guards unhooked the chain from his cuffs. "He will be returned shortly."

The guards dragged him out of the cell and towards the doorway, and Drax let out an angry scream, straining against his own chain.

"Whole, and alive. You have my word." Ebony promised in a voice that sent a chill down Peter's spine. He sent a desperate look over his shoulder. Drax looked outright furious, and Groot had moved for the first time since Peter had awoken down here to stand at the edge of his own cell, but neither of them could do anything as the door slid shut between them.

-x-

Ebony Maw led the way down a series of winding corridors in no particular hurry. The further they got from the holding cells, the nicer things seemed to become. Around the fourth corner the metal floor turned into carpet and little gold sconces let out a soft warm glowt. The plush footing felt out of place for a ship, and muffled the guard's boots as they marched behind him.

Two corners later revealed a long hallway which must have run the edge of the ship, one wall was comprised of a massive window which ran beyond what he could see in either direction. The view outside was so spectacular that Peter actually stopped in his tracks to gape openly at the swirling galaxies that drifted by in a rainbow that sparkled with winking stars. Huge asteroids, dwarfed by the distance between them, drifted across the canvas, covered in shimmering crystals of ice that left him dazzled.

A hard shove to his back forced him to keep moving, but his eyes remained trained on the breathtaking view for the whole length of their march down the hallway, and when they turned away to follow a path that led them deeper into the ship, he felt saddened at its loss.

"The asteroid fields of the Belle Ame Galaxies are a sight to behold, aren't they?" Ebony Maw's voice rang out from the head of the procession.

"Belle Ame?" Peter asked before he could remind himself not to be taken in by this strange man's hypnotizing words.

"Yes, it means 'beautiful soul.' A lovely name, but quite ironic, in that not a single soul resides within them. Wouldn't you agree?"

Peter kept his eyes trained on his boots and gave a non-commital grunt in his best Drax impression. A breathy laugh floated back to him.

"Oh, come now, Starlord. You needn't look so scared. I mean you no harm. Drax can be a bit, over-dramatic. I can hardly blame him; after all, he had just lost his home and his people. It is no surprise he holds such bitter memories of his time here."

"He was a prisoner. Is a prisoner." Despite himself, Peter was being drawn into a conversation.

"He was a prisoner long before he came to Oasis. We merely cared for him for a while."

"Some care." Peter huffed. Days of dehydration and hunger giving him a short temper. "Our food and water are poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Ebony Maw hadn't turned back to look at Peter as they marched onward, but Peter could practically hear the humorous smile on his face. "Drax's word, I'm sure. It is merely a light sedative to ease our guest's journey. They are often panicked and distressed when they come to us, which can lead to them causing all manner of harm to themselves or to our crew. While I myself might be inclined to forgive the occasional bruise or battery on my guards as an... occupational hazard, my lord has made it very clear that such uprisings are not to be encouraged, and must be dealt with in a very specific manner. A little bit of a foggy mind is hardly an unreasonable price to pay to avoid such cruelties."

Peter opened and closed his mouth a few times, failing to find the words he needed. He knew he didn't agree with Ebony's logic, but couldn't form an answer that sounded half as reasonable.

"You let that prisoner die. The one who had a reaction to your sedatives." He finally said, raising his head triumphantly as he clung to his irrefutable evidence of his evil.

"We hardly just 'let' him die." His voice softened and his shoulders drooped down just the barest hint as though he truly were regretful. "That poor child was in such pain, but when my guards tried to treat him, they were attacked and driven away. They could do nothing but watch as his fellow prisoners refused to allow him aid and he eventually succomed to his sickness. As I said, our guests are often distressed and not inclined to be at their most reasonable in a place like this."

It was obvious that Peter's foggy brain wasn't going to be winning any arguments here, so with Drax's stern warning to avoid conversation with the man heavy on his mind, he held his mouth shut and admitted defeat for now.

The hallway ended abruptly with an elevator that was big enough to allow them all to stand comfortably, with room to spare.

The ceiling and walls were covered in well-polished mirrors, giving it an even roomier effect and allowing Peter to get a good look at himself on the way up. Thanks to the freezing cold shower, he was actually relatively clean, but a dark shadow ghosted across his jaw where he had been struck by Nebula back on the Milano. It had obviously once been a pretty impressive bruise, but now the blood was beginning to fade and pool along his jawline. At a distance, one might not even notice it under the three-day's worth of not shaving.

Dark circles were forming under his eyes, and faint shadows were visible under his cheekbones. Both sat stark against his pale complexion under the cheery white lighting.

They rode the elevator up in silence. A tiny ding announced their arrival at wherever they were going and the doors slid open to reveal a long elegant hallway. The walls were a polished ivory and the carpet a deep rich crimson with traces of gold swirling through it like smoke.

A set of gold doors stood open down the hallway to the right and Ebony Maw lead them straight through, the guards pulling the doors shut behind them and removing the shackles from Peter's wrist before moving to stand in the corners. As Peter flexed his hands and looked around the first thing he noticed was the table in the center of the room, set with two plates of what resembled pancakes and eggs, a big bowl of fresh fruits in the center and pitchers of juice and water set to either side.

"Please," Ebony Maw moved to the far side, gesturing with one long-fingered hand to the chair on Peter's side as he slid his own out. "Take a seat."

Still thoroughly confused, Peter did as he was told. The plush seat was a welcome break from days of sitting on freezing metal, and the smell that wafted up from the freshly cooked food was making his mouth water and his stomach squirm.

Across the table, Ebony Maw took his silverware up in his delicate hands and cut a small slice of his own not-a-pancake, popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly with a smile. Peter was pretty sure his stomach was ready to crawl up his own throat and abandon him.

"Please, eat. The food here is absolutely exquisite. Our cooks really outdo themselves."

"No thanks." Peter forced out, the words bitter on his parched tongue. Ebony just responded with an easy laugh.

"I assure you. It is not, 'poisoned' as Drax would say. Here, you may have mine if you wish." He picked up his own plate to offer it over.

"No, that's fine."

Thanos's other son relented with a small shrug as though it didn't matter to him either way, taking another bite before pouring himself a glass of the ruddy juice.

"At least have some Ohchrie Juice. It's hard to think straight when one is dehydrated, and the water from the showers is hardly a proper source." Another chuckle escaped his lips when he saw Peter's shocked expression. "Yes, I know all about Drax's little trick, but as long as you are not causing any upset, I do not see what harm it can cause."

Sulking, and feeling a bit like a kid who had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar, Peter went ahead and poured himself a glass from the same pitcher Ebony Maw had used. Even if it was drugged, it probably didn't matter at this point. After the juice didn't cause him to grow dizzy or fall over foaming at the mouth, he picked up his own utensils and took a small bite of his food. He could practically hear a chorus of angels as the sweet taste washed over his tongue. It might just be the starvation talking, but this was the best pancake-like food he had ever tasted.

Peter was struggling to pace himself, and for a while his host seemed content to just eat in silence. About half-way through their meal, when Peter's head was feeling a bit clearer, he looked up to notice that the other man had stopped eating and set his tools aside to fold his hands neatly on the table in front of himself and was watching Peter with quiet interest.

Feeling suddenly self-conscience, Peter swallowed his last bite and set his own utensils aside to sit back and meet his gaze.

"Well," Ebony started, seeming to perk up now that he had Peter's attention. "Now that we can both think clearly, why don't we move on to why I have invited you up here?"

Ah. There was the other shoe. Peter just hoped that as it came down, he wouldn't be crushed underneath it.

"Alright." Peter sighed, sitting up straighter. "Let's get the interrogation over with."

"Interrogation? Oh, no, nothing like that! I am sure that Thanos will have many questions for you upon our arrival, but this meeting is more... off-the-record, as it were."

"Off-the-record?" Peter questioned.

"Yes. You see, Thanos is our most beloved father, and a wonderful leader, but he can get so caught up in the bigger picture, that some of the finer details and... opportunities, can slip through the cracks. That is where the Black Order comes in. That's where I come in. From the sounds of it, at the end of this journey, you will have outlived your use, and Thanos is not one for keeping unnecessary clutter."

Peter swallowed thickly as he wondered again how long this 'journey' would be.

"It seems like such a waste to me. You strike me as a creature of reason, and I thought perhaps we could discuss the possibility of a future under his rule. A very long one."

"You want me to join the Black Order?"

Ebony Maw seemed to lose his composure for a moment to another burst of laughter, the loudest one yet, but he recovered a moment later, wiping at the corner of his eyes with a flutter of his hands.

"Oh no. Ahem. I am afraid nothing quite so grand- at least not right away. Certainly, if you worked hard and showed considerable promise, you could eventually be considered for a place among his most elite, though." He was still chuckling as he spoke, though Peter felt more that he was laughing to himself than at his still very baffled guest. "You already have the ambition, it seems."

"Thanks, but, um, I don't really see myself working for a Warlord." Peter replied, surprised at the lack of sarcasm he heard in his own voice.

"Warlord? Well that's quite a small-minded way of putting it. Look around you. The universe is falling into chaos. So many factions, so many governments, always in conflict against each other. Since the first dawn, the universe has never known anything but war, and as our technology to traverse them expands, we are only met with more brutality, more fear and ruthlessness, as every separate entity struggles to claim their own. Our father seeks to change that, to unite the galaxies under his rule. In peace."

"Imagine that. No more wars. No more genocides, or bloody mutinies. Just the galaxies, united under one ruler, all striving towards one glorious future."

"Is that really what you think he wants? Peace?" Peter snorted, keeping his eyes trained on his plate and away from the pull of those eyes and the musical lilt in his voice.

"It is. But such wondrous things as peace must always be obtained at a high price."

"Was Xandaar part of that price?"

"Unfortunately, yes. The people of Xandaar and the NOVA Corps were so accustomed to their wild ways and ruling over their own corner of the galaxies, they would never bend to a higher power. We did make them an offer; to spare their citizens in exchange for their complete loyalty towards our cause, but Nova Prime would hear none of it. She could not fathom giving up her throne and clung to it stubbornly at the tragic cost of her people."

"You murdered them." Peter ground out, so quiet he wasn't sure he'd be heard.

"Yes. And I mourned for every soul that was lost to that woman's selfishness, but the cost of one planet pales in comparison to the lives that will be saved."

Peter's lips pulled into a frown and he moved to fiddle again with the worn edges of his cast. Out here in the brighter lighting he could see how badly the marker had blurred from the showers. The Milano's laser beams wavered and the explosions were melting into ugly dark blobs. Even Nebula's little smiling face in the corner had developed streaks which made it appear to be weeping even as it smiled on.

"I can see that you will need some time to consider what I have told you." Ebony Maw's chair slid across the carpet as he stood from the table. "I understand that it is a lot to take in, so please, take your time. I only ask that you give us a fair chance, and consider the good that you could do for the universe, the souls that you could save. Souls that could be lost if you are not there to save them."

The guards had stepped forward and grabbed him by the arms once more, pulling him to his feet. As a third one stepped in to fit his cuffs back on Ebony waved him away.

"Oh, really. I'd say those are hardly necessary any more. And as a show of good faith, I will see to it that your food and water remain... untainted for the remainder of this trip. Now that we have been more properly introduced, I do not believe you to be a danger to my crew, and I am sure neither Thanos nor En Dwi Gast will be too pleased if their guests show up half-starved and delirious from dehydration."

"Thanks." The word slipped out before Peter even realized it, and as the guards guided him from the room and back the way he'd come he found himself worrying over the fact that he had just sincerely thanked one of Thanos's children for not continuing to poison him and his friends. Despite his withered look and soft voice, the old man was definitely not someone to take lightly.

End

#Astronautical #gotg astronautical #gotg #Guardians of the Galaxy #Fanfic #fanfiction #ff.net #Peter Quill #Gamora #Groot #Drax #Ebony Maw #Black Order #Chapter 12

[ericjuneau]

Reprise (Chapter 17) [Frozen/Tangled/The Little Mermaid]

CHAPTER 17: Omis Ravir

The manticore gargoyle pawed the ground, thick haunches rolling up on its stone body. Full length, it had to be twenty feet long.

"What do we do?" Ariel asked.

"Maybe it's friendly," Rapunzel said.

It leaped forward, charging them. Ariel dove to one side. Rapunzel to the other. Elsa stumbled back, leaving a jumbled growth of ice spikes where she stood. The beast crushed them with its stone pillar legs. It raised a leg before Elsa.

A blast of light knocked aside the canis's face.

"Hey, over here!" Ariel shouted. She held out her trident, aimed at its head.

Seeing a more immediate threat, the colossus turned towards a new victim. "What do I do? What do I do?" Ariel shouted.

"Shoot it!" Elsa said.

Ariel blasted it with lightning. Its stone head jerked back, but couldn't be hurt.  

Elsa saw her chance. A smooth patch of ice spread under the monster's legs. As it stepped on, the ice cracked into a spider-web. It must have weighed tons--too heavy to slip up.

Ariel backed against the border of the clearing. "Help me, guys!"

Rapunzel backed against a tree. She heaved her hair over a branch and skittered up. After a few more wraps, she made a leaping dive off. She swung in an arc across the clearing, screaming like a savage. The beast craned to look, but its neck was too thick for a full turn.

Rapunzel landed on the monster's back. She slammed her frying pan down with a resounding iron clang. "You. Leave. Her. Alone," she said, each word emphasized with a blow from the pan.

Its eyes squinted with each blow, head bouncing with each jolt. Ariel ran back to open ground.

The beast shook its haunches like a wet dog, slower and heavier.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Rapunzel wobbled back and forth until she couldn't hold on anymore. She flew off headfirst, toward a nasty fall on the hard ground.

Elsa followed her with her hand. A snow drift appeared in front of Rapunzel where she landed, buried. She popped up, a pyramid of snow on her head. "Thanks," she said.

Elsa nodded, hiding her annoyance. She had the best chance of defeating the beast, if she wasn't spending all her time saving the others. "Ariel, get behind her," Elsa called out.

While Ariel maneuvered away, Elsa concentrated on forming jagged balls of hard ice. The beast turned its head. The ice chunk fell on the monster's head, jarring it. Then another. Another. Another. All it did was make it madder. She tried bigger ones. No reaction.

Elsa gritted her teeth. She shot melted ice shards at the colossus. A jagged glaze of frost coated its head, belly and front legs. The beast shook it off, pawing away the bigger chunks.

"It's a rock, Elsa. It doesn't care about freezing," Rapunzel said while Ariel helped her out of the snow.

Elsa didn't listen. Bigger ice. More ice. A blizzard as intense as the arctic. She would bring down this monster or die trying.

Elsa's eyes faded into a white glow. Constant ice shot out of her hands. The monster ran forward. Elsa was concentrating so hard, she didn't think about getting out of the way. She had to stop it.

Ariel fired her trident. Two shots hit it in the jaw. The third sideswiped its legs.

It burbled in pain and lost its footing. Eight tons of stone slid straight toward Elsa, scraping away topsoil. Rapunzel tackled her out of the way.

When Elsa's eyes re-opened, they had lost the white glow. "You were going to be killed," Rapunzel said.

Ariel continued to pelt the beast with lightning bolts as it regained its posture.

"This isn't working," Elsa said.

Rapunzel glanced around. If they couldn't stop it with their powers, maybe something else...

"I got it," she said. "Get me on that thing." She started sprinting towards the stone monster before Elsa could ask.

The beast was beginning to turn toward Ariel. Elsa created a set of ice steps under Rapunzel's feet. She climbed up and jumped on its neck. Taking a swath of hair, she wrapped it around the monster's eyes. It roared like a bull while Rapunzel wound three more loops, making sure the beast was blind.

The beast swung its head back and forth, but Rapunzel stayed on, holding her hair like reins. It bucked up and down, each jump bouncing Rapunzel into the air. The ground shook under their feet.

"Elsa--ice barrier! Ariel--shoot the tree!"

"What?" Ariel asked.

But Elsa knew what to do. She swiped her hand across the beast's path, making a thick wall of ice. The colossus crashed through with the force of mountain meeting mountain. Dazed, it fell on its belly, legs splayed out.

"The tree! That tree!" Rapunzel shouted and pointed. A gigantic oak tree, thick as a castle pillar, leaned into the clearing.

Ariel pointed the trident and shot the tree's base with as much force as she could will. The blast blew through the trunk, sending splinters and bark flying, creating flames at the impact point.

The oak made a heart-wrenching creak, then leaned further forward. Its looming shadow shrouded Rapunzel. She yanked up her hair and dove out of the way, landing in Elsa's arms.

The beast propped itself up on one leg. The trunk smashed it back down, followed by a tremendous explosion of leaves.

Ariel rejoined her friends, panting with hands on her knees. "Everyone okay?"

"We're fine," Elsa said.

Once the chaos settled, they could see the beast struggling to stand. But the weight was too much. It made a crooning bellow, equal parts anger and humiliation. Its glassy blue eyes faded to black.

"What do you think it was?" Ariel asked. "Did Omis Ravir make that as a guard?"

"Maybe it was meant to keep him in. Like a prisoner," Rapunzel said.

"No," Elsa said. "Omis made it. A monster to keep people out."

"How do you know?" Rapunzel asked.

"Because I made the same thing."

Elsa pulled open the cathedral door and beckoned the others in. Inside was an unlit chamber held by arched roof. No altar, no lectern, just a bare pulpit. Pews had been broken away, leaving an austere stone floor. Random beams of dusty light streamed through broken bricks and cracked windows.

Their footsteps echoed down the center aisle. "Hello?" Elsa called out. "Is anyone here?"

"Someone has to be here," Rapunzel said. "That stone statue wasn't guarding nothing."

Ariel's head turned, tracking a possible shadow. "Did you see that?" Rapunzel and Elsa hadn't.

They entered the transept. Grass and moss covered the pulpit like a carpet. "Mr. Ravir? Are you here? We need to talk to-"

The doors slammed. Light fluttered like a gas lamp. This was no wind brushing trees, this was magic.

"What's happening?" Ariel asked, clutching her trident. Unearthly sounds whirled in, like groaning earth splitting.

The floor below illuminated a glyph in bright cyan. Its intricate spirals and angles stretched from corner to corner.  

Rapunzel shrieked. She was suddenly levitating. Her hair streamed upward like a ribbon as she floated toward the ceiling. Elsa grabbed her outstretched hand. "Don't let go!"

It felt like resisting a hurricane wind. For a moment, Elsa gulped. As her toes were about to leave the ground, Ariel wrapped her arms around Elsa's torso. They both grabbed Rapunzel, struggling to pull her down.

Ravir had seen their fight, knew how well they'd worked together. "Don't let them split us up! That's what he's trying to do."

They managed to overpower whatever force possessed Rapunzel. The invisible energy released its hold as Rapunzel's feet touched ground.

"Where is he?" Rapunzel asked.

"Show yourself!" Elsa demanded. "We know you're here. We know-"

Wind rushed around them, forcing their eyes closed. Elsa back retreated into her friends, making a back-to-back-to-back formation. Rapunzel held her pan to protect her face. Ariel peeked through the tines of her trident. As the vortex intensified, the light around them dimmed.

"I can't see!" Ariel shouted. "Everything's dark!" Her red hair flapped in her face while Rapunzel's spun into the center of the cyclone.

"Please stop this!" Rapunzel shouted.

Elsa tried shooting her ice, but the tempest swept up the particles into its mass. Rapunzel and Ariel screamed, but the air was sucked out of their mouths. Ravir wasn't going to let them leave. He wasn't going to help them. The darkness was going to swallow them.

"Rapunzel! Sing!" Elsa said.

"Are you kidding?"

"The light!"

Rapunzel didn't sing so much as scream. "Flower gleam and glow! Let your power shine!"

Her hair's radiance flickered like a dying firefly. The vortex was sucking the light from under them. But the wind weakened.

Elsa bellowed. "Let it go! Let it go! Can't hold it back anymore!"

Ariel caught on. She sung the same tune when Ursula had taken her voice. The same that brought Eric to her. "Ah-ah-ahhhh, ah-ah-ahhhh..."

Patches of windlessness permated the air. White light exploded from the center of the vortex. Rapunzel's golden hair fell behind her in a heap. The cathedral was empty again.

"Who are you?"

The voice had a childlike timbre mixed with the brusqueness of age. They couldn't pinpoint the source due to the building's echoes. It seemed to be everywhere.

Ariel aimed her trident fiercely. "Are you Omis Ravir?"

A pause. "I know not of this person."

"Please. We need to find him," Rapunzel said. "We've all been afflicted by some kind of curse. Some arcane magic no one knows."

"Do not look to me. My business with your world ended long ago."

"Then maybe you know something? Please. We're desperate. We can't find a single person or book that can help."

A pause. "You can find no help here. No knowledge."

"But we can't leave. You're our only chance. My kingdom's at stake. All our lives," Elsa said.

The voice responded, "I live in isolation to protect myself and others. I hold no obligation to you or your people."

"We'd still like to talk to you. Can you show yourself?" Ariel asked.

A pause. "You wouldn't like what you see."

"I don't know. I've seen some pretty weird-looking fish," Ariel said.

"I'm friends with bar thugs and ruffians. Some of them have hooks for hands," Rapunzel said.

Silence. Elsa's fingers twitched. She had to suppress the urge to bellow "I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. She's the princess of Corona. She holds the trident of the sea god. Unless you come down, we'll send our combined armies to tear this place apart."

But she didn't have to. Out of the corner of her eye, a form appeared as if he had been standing there all along. Ariel and Rapunzel lined up next to Elsa.

The man was gaunt--emaciated to the point where a man shouldn't be alive. His mottled, cobalt skin stretched over the bones of his arms and legs like tight canvas. A sunken cavity lay under his ribs where a healthy stomach should have been. His only clothes were a burlap waistcloth and a mantle covering his mouth. Black stringy bangs hung over opalescent eyes.

Elsa's eyes bulged. Rapunzel gasped.

"I am Omis Ravir. Look upon me. This is the magic you seek."

Elsa stepped forward. "What happened?"

"What all power does--corrupts. The more there is, the more it despoils."

"It's okay." Ariel placed a hand on Ravir's shoulder. He twitched. "We're not going to hurt you."

"I attacked you," Ravir said.

"You're not attacking us now," Ariel said. "My name is Ariel. This is Queen Elsa and Princess Rapunzel."

Ravir blinked his glowing eyes. "You have such rank, both political and spiritual. Someone has seen fit to glut you with privilege."

"We weren't always this way," Elsa said. "Rapunzel's hair should be normal, brown, and shorter. Ariel was a mermaid who became human, but now she keeps turning back. And we think the only magic capable of doing this came from an ancient cult leader named Temeris. Do you know anything about him?"

"I was a knight. A crusader and scholar. Appointed by king to seek wisdom rather than conquer lands. But I do not pretend my journey was noble. My order required small skill in necromancy. Those who stood in my way are now stains on a sword. The journey led me to the Cult of Temeris. Two others sought the same, for their own reasons, and I joined them. We discovered their crypt through fortune and will, and made short work of the remaining members. The cult's strength had withered like old men. In the catacombs, we found the three faults."

"What were they?" Ariel asked. "What did they look like?"

"Three canopic jars, containing a heart, a body, and a brain--the mortal remains of Temeris. Each of us selected one, so none could claim envy. Each took what they believed to be the stronger of the other two."

"And you took... his brain?" Elsa asked.

Ravir nodded. "All the knowledge, the cunning, the sagacity. A universe of insight. It consumed me. People, places, seemed less interesting. Hollow representations of meaning. The insipid spirals of their petty contrivances changed disregard to disgust. At first only the dregs of society suffered my wrath. Soon, no one was beneath my contempt. My loathing manifested until exile became my only recourse."

"How long have you been here?" Rapunzel asked.

"Time no longer has meaning to me. It is a human construct. You wouldn't understand." Ravir held up his hand to silence the girl.

"Are you the one who sent us a message?" Rapunzel dug out the blank letter from her knapsack. "Elsa got one too, but they're both blank."

"I sent you nothing." Ravir peered at the fine sheaf, dragging a finger down it. "But this page is not blank."

"Can you read it? Is it in some magic script?" Rapunzel asked.

"It was meant for you and you alone. The explication is tied to your soul."

"okay," Rapunzel said. "So... what does that mean? How can I read it?"

Ravir sighed. He pointed at a spot in the center of the church. "Stand there."

Rapunzel walked up to it, letter held in front of her chest.

Ravir held his arms over his head. A yellow ball formed, crackling with energy. He threw it into the air over the pulpit. It shot through the stained glass window, raining fragments around them. The girls shielded their eyes.

"Look," Ravir said.

Light streamed through where the window had broken, bathing Rapunzel in a beam of light. On the sheet of paper, etchings glowed where the sunlight struck.

"Of course," Rapunzel said. "My power comes from a drop of sun that fell to Earth. It's even the symbol of Corona. I should have thought of it before."

"What does it say?" Ariel asked.

Rapunzel held out the paper and read.

I haply dote on thine magician's gaze Command me spell bound my heart to find thine The sun beweeps red tears of flame from rays Doth brightest cans't to match thou brilliant shine Time's tyranny of tide calls forth impart But tread most feather-light across its flow E'er contra the raucous tow of mine heart And bid us route to wedding's altar glow That, lo, the nupt of fruits bloom ripe thereof By lost and lonely gods of yore. Let past And future both attend the vow. For love Bear guard through eyes of patience none outlast At nocturne sweet rends mine and thou to we Whence join sweet Iris lock to pair'ed key

"I have no idea what that means," Elsa said.

"What is it supposed to be? A love poem?" Ariel asked.

"I can only show you the door," Ravir said. "To walk in is your quest."

"If you didn't send this, do you know who did?" Elsa asked. "What about your two friends? Do you know where they are?"

"Not friends. Travelers of circumstance. A common goal led us down the same path temporarily. Once we had what we wanted, we left our separate ways. Their names were Lowther Vonde Brackridge and Arcius Cansteth. If one of them knows the source of your turmoil, pray it not be Arcius. That man lacked humanity before the magic corrupted him."

"Was he some kind of sorcerer too?" Ariel asked.

"I shall tell you his tale. Cansteth committed heinous crimes for the sole purpose of being sent to prison. Twelve years isolated in Ogrestone, condemned to death. For twelve years he labored in a windowless cell, preparing, refining, perfecting. Its doors never opened. Once a day, he received a tray of gruel shoved through a slot. At his trial, the only statement he made was that he would walk out of prison with a smile."

"How did he get out?" Rapunzel asked.

"The eleventh year, he begins claiming he's not Cansteth. He's an officer. That the real Cansteth is one of the guards. The officers open his cell and inspect everything, but find no evidence. Each guard that passes he tells he's not Cansteth. Every man that walks by, Cansteth yells that he's been replaced. The others ignore it, thinking he's gone insane.

"On the day of his execution, he asks for a single razor, as a last request. He shaves off all the hair of his body--twelve years' worth. The priest enters. Cansteth knocks him out. Glues his hair to the priest's head and takes his place. The priest yells that he's not Cansteth. That he was knocked out."

"And Cansteth walks out the door," Rapunzel finished.

"With a smile on his face," Ravir said.

The three girls stood in silence, contemplating what kind of man would make such a sacrifice to learn power.

"Elsa, what about your letter? Maybe the ice...?" Rapunzel said.

Elsa filched through the knapsack. She held the letter by one hand. Sparkles drifted down from her other hand, coating the paper in a sheen of white frost.

Line after line of cryptic symbols scattered across the page: squiggly lines and slashed lines and lines with other lines through them, letters and arrows and half-triangles and circles.

"What is this? A cipher?" Rapunzel asked.

"I don't see a pattern," Ariel said. "Unless... okay, so there's a line here, and a slanty shape here so... never mind. I don't get it."

Elsa stared at the shapes, waiting for some meaning to pop out at her. Was there anything magical about it what she was reading? The point of encryption was to make sure only the receiver could understand the message. Since whoever wrote it knew them, they might know enough to...

"Agh, I was so stupid. Look!"

She held the paper out to them. Rapunzel and Ariel shrugged.

"This curly-cue here. It means a divisor over Gaussian integers. It's a geometric formula."

Ariel's eyes brightened. "You know geometry. Can you figure it out?"

"Maybe. I need some tools. A compass. Graph paper."

"We have all those back at the castle," Rapunzel said. She turned to Ravir. "Will you come with us? We could use your help. You're so powerful..."

"It is for that reason I dare not leave this domain."

"It's okay," Rapunzel said. "You don't have to be afraid..."

Ravir shook his head. "My appearance is but a fraction of my antipathy. I no longer count myself in humankind. The only safe place for me is here, away from the world."

"I was shut away from the world once too. But it's easier to rejoin than you think. People would accept you. You just need to get to know them."

"My place. Is here," Ravir grunted.

"Please?" Rapunzel said. "You don't have to spend all of your life alone-"

"I said NO!" Ravir said.

The black wind rushed at them. Elsa, Ariel, and Rapunzel held their hands in front of their faces. Old paper and dry thorns brushed at their arms. The ground under their feet coiled and sprang like a trampoline. Then the wind ceased.

Bright sunlight. They were standing in a field, in front of a forest. Ariel turned around.

"Look! We're back at the castle," Ariel said. "He transported us."

"We should be thankful he didn't transport us farther," Elsa said. To Rapunzel, "Why did you make him so angry?"

Rapunzel sighed. "Maybe I pushed too hard."

Elsa sighed "It's all the better, I suppose. We couldn't force him."

"You can lead a captain of the guards to water, but you can't make him drink," Ariel said.

A contingent of royal guards was riding out to meet them--the same soldiers who escorted them. Rapunzel smiled at the story she was about to tell.

Flynn whistled a happy tune while carrying the tray of food. He knocked on the door to the drawing room. "Knock, knock," he said. "I've got some yummy treats for some hard-working girls." He opened the door.

Elsa sat alone at the long mahogany table, buried in scrolls, inkwells, pencils, and wooden doodads. She and Flynn stared at each other in uncomfortable silence.

"Oh. Where's everyone else?" Flynn asked.

She lowered her eyes back to the puzzle. "Rapunzel's with Ansel, educating him about Arendelle's tactical strengths and weaknesses. I don't know where Ariel is."  

"Shouldn't you be with Ansel? You're the queen, right?"

"But I'm the only one who can figure out this message. And Rapunzel knows Arendelle well enough."

Flynn carried the tray in and placed it on the table. "I thought they'd be helping you."

"Does Rapunzel know anything about hexadecimal notation?"

"Uh... I'm not sure anyone in the kingdom does."

Elsa examined the tray. "Is that coffee?"

"Sure is. I even brought milk and sugar and all that fancy stuff."

"I actually prefer tea."

"Oh..." Flynn picked up the pewter mug. "You ever have coffee before? It's great for waking up on those cold mornings."

"No, thank you. I prefer tea." She placed on the graph paper to draw lines.

Flynn pulled up a velvet chair and sat on it in reverse, legs straddling the back. "Is it tough?"

"Not for me. I just need to draw out the formula now. Means a lot of complex calculations, and I won't know if I've made a mistake."

"Gotcha. There's no tutor with an answer key." Flynn picked up a protractor, looking through the hollow space. "So what's it like being a queen?"

"Irritating. You work long hours reading documents. You grind out a deal, make a compromise, and then no one's happy. Everyone depends on you and you get no credit for it."

"So Rapunzel has that to look forward to for Rapunzel." Flynn leaned back. "But Rapunzel's eager to learn and Queen Arianna's sure happy to teach her. I never imagined I'd get along with my mother-in-law so well. But then, I have to or she'll cut off my head. Heh-heh. I bet she's just as thrilled having a thief for a son-in-law. They not only regained a daughter but earned a son."

Elsa looked up from the tops of her eyes.

"Um... on that note, I should... check how she's doing." He staggered off the chair and backed out of the room.

Elsa muttered to herself as he closed the door. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Olaf."

Flynn walked across the castle to the war room. Rapunzel and Ansel stood at a chalkboard with Arendelle's coast drawn out. In the middle of the room, there was a large table with a map and tiny boats. Pascal crawled across the ocean, shifting models around.

"The two biggest ports are here and here," Rapunzel said.

"But are they the strongest?" Ansel asked. "They may have overtaken certain defenses at this point. What are the wind conditions this time of year in Arendelle?"

"I'm not sure. They seemed fine when I was there, but they're having odd weather anyway."

Ansel turned back to the chalkboard. "I believe we should concentrate on ocean territory as much as possible, use the land for boundaries. Using the Diekplous maneuver, we can separate their ranks. I'm assuming calm seas and average depth in the bay."

"I don't know. Elsa would." Rapunzel sighed.

"And I don't think you want to disturb her," Flynn said. "I brought her some coffee and she turned it cold just by talking to me. Are you sure she has ice powers? Because she sure is a drip."

"She likes tea, not coffee. And she's comfortable working alone," Rapunzel replied.

"No one's that comfortable. Even I made friends as a thief. Well, until I skipped town with the loot, but that's different. "

"I asked if she needed help and she said no," Rapunzel shrugged. "I don't think I could have helped anyway.

"Your highness," Ansel interrupted. "I have an idea. If the attack begins here..." he circled Arendelle's inlet, "we can push them to the coast. They'll have no maneuverability and no time to move into formation. They won't expect such an onslaught."

Pascal knocked one of the ships over.

"Don't let them retreat into the two surrounding fjords, or they'll have the kingdom surrounded," Rapunzel said.

"Or perhaps we do..." Ansel said. "If their fleet splits, they'll retreat, then they'll be trapped in the canals. No armada has ever won a battle on two fronts."

"Maybe..." Rapunzel said. "I'm worried about the damage they could do to the town. If they think they're not getting out alive, they'd act like trapped rats."

"One must expect collateral damage in a war. And this is only if we have to engage at all. I'm confident they'll surrender on sight."

"Or at least entreat negotiations." Rapunzel put down the chalk.

"My commanding officers are rallying all the available men, loading supplies. It's my policy to stay twelve hours away from full mobilization at any time. We will leave as soon as we're ready. Just after midnight, by my estimate."

Pascal knocked away all the ships representing the enemy off the board, whacking one with his tail.

Elsa walked through the door to the war room, holding a large sheet of paper. Several loose hairs from her tight braid wisped around her head.

"I finished decoding the letter, but-"

"You did?" Rapunzel squealed. "You got it figured out? What does it say?"

Elsa held up the paper. " I have no idea."

Rapunzel's face fell.

"It's some abstract thing." Elsa showed her a graph of concentric shapes, wavy lines, and number-value pairs along the side.  

"Did you make a mistake?"

"I triple-checked everything. I'm pretty sure this is the message. All the coordinates follow a logical pattern, it just... just doesn't mean anything."

The two princesses stared at the ground in dejection. "Where's Ariel?" Flynn asked. "Maybe she could help out?"

"I think she left to explore the castle," Rapunzel said.

"What about the sonnet? Isn't she working on that?" Elsa asked.

"I've got the castle artistes trying to figure that out. They know about structure, sound patterns, form. She only knows Atlantican poetry."

Elsa grunted. "She should be doing something. Come help me find her." Elsa headed into the hallway before Rapunzel responded.

Ansel nodded. Rapunzel didn't worry about him having his tasks completed. She jogged after Elsa.

"What's wrong?" Rapunzel asked Elsa, alone in the hall.

"We're here slaving on these ridiculous puzzles and she's frippering around? I know she couldn't have helped me, but why isn't she there for you?"

"She said she didn't know much about war strategy. I think that's why she left."

"I'm getting really tired of her attitude. Her trident is powerful, but anything that requires a modicum of experience or effort she shrugs off. She thinks everything can come to her by wanting it."

"Well, maybe she's still getting used to... living in a different world. I think she's doing very well for joining a new species."

Elsa stopped a passing guard and asked him where Princess Ariel was. "I think I saw her going up the northwest tower, your majesty."

Elsa started in that direction without a thank you. Rapunzel huffed up the stairs after her. "I think her... previous kingdom was more relaxed. She doesn't like being controlled or bound by rules."

Elsa turned and gave her a hard look. "She's still a princess. She has responsibilities. It's like she forgets she has a curse. Or that we do too."

"I think she's done a lot for us," Rapunzel said. "This 'curse' has been hard on all of us. I'm sure we can figure it out, if we all keep working at it."

Elsa stopped and turned around. "That's another thing. I'm getting tired of your sunny disposition for everything. You have a non-problem."

Rapunzel scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ariel can't stay on her feet for more than twelve hours. My kingdom is under attack--by both the elements and another country. You? You have long hair."

"I just spent seven hours working with Ansel to send out ships to your kingdom. We're taking money out of Corona's coffers for Arendelle, just because we're family. I'm doing this for you."

"And while you were there, I was all alone, doing nothing but geometry problems. Your husband came to visit me. You didn't."

"You said you didn't want us to help you."

They reached the top of the parapet. True to the guard's word, Ariel was there. She stood in the glory of the mid-afternoon sun, letting the north wind blow her hair back.

"Have you seen this view? It's breathtaking. There's mountains, rivers, plains--all in the same view! And the castle! Rapunzel, it's amazing. There's a theater, a greenhouse, two music rooms, a Turkish salon-"

"I know. I live here," Rapunzel said.

"Why are you up here? You've been fooling around while we're working," Elsa said.

"I'm not... I didn't think anyone needed my help. You're doing military stuff and geometry. I'm no good at that."

"So instead you're playing around?"

Rapunzel tugged on Elsa's arm, warning her she was going too far, but Elsa shrugged her off.

Ariel held her hands behind her back and looked away. "Well, I didn't think you needed help. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can help with now?"

"No. That could have been a little more meaningful seven hours ago, but I am done, thank you."

"If you didn't want to help, you could have at least sat in and learned something," Rapunzel added. Elsa's righteous anger was infectious.

Now Ariel frowned. "Well... what about you? You're sending ships to another country. How is that helping our situation?"

"It's helping her." Rapunzel nudged Elsa. "Part of ruling a country means assisting allies. Do you even know anything about being a princess?"

"I'm the daughter of a king," Ariel said angrily.

"So are we all," Elsa said, crossing her arms. "If it weren't for that trident..."

"Is that all you think I'm good for? Blasting things?" Ariel asked.

"Right now, that's all you're good for," Rapunzel said.

"Do you know what it's like having your legs torn apart and sewed up again every day? Do you know what I sacrificed? I almost destroyed the whole sea kingdom for these." She gestured to her legs. "I changed my entire way of life."

"My way of life was torn apart because of this." Elsa held up her gloved hands. "The first moment someone found out my power they called me a monster. I had to run away to the north mountain to live in isolation-"

"Do not bring that up," Rapunzel said. "Don't even try. I was locked in a tower for eighteen years. Is that anything like you experienced? No, it isn't. Because you only spent, like, a day up there."

Elsa backed away, hunching her shoulders. Her hands clenched and nostrils flared.

"Yeah. And it was your choice," Ariel said, joining the reversal gang-up. "Don't act like you had rough."

"Rough? You?" Rapunzel whipped back to Ariel. "Every time you talk about your adventures it's all music and parties and beautiful scenery. I swear you want to go back there."

"If I knew I'd have to work with you kind of people, I might have changed my mind."

Elsa flexed her fingers within the gloves. "Do you smell smoke?" she asked.

Rapunzel sniffed and smelled it too. Wood fires typically burned throughout the castle, but not at the top of a tower.

Ariel pointed down to the city. "Is that supposed to be there?"

A cloud plume rose from the patchwork of houses in the middle of Corona. Rapunzel's silence meant it was not normal.

"What's in that area?" Elsa asked.

Rapunzel's eyes widened. "The library!" She treaded in a circle, ensnaring herself in her hair.

"We have to get down there," Elsa said.

"Isn't there a fire brigade?" Ariel asked.

"Yes, but who better to put out a fire than a snow queen and master of the seas?"

Embedded in the tower was a pole. It held a tensile cable that reached down to the courtyard so supplies could be pulleyed up. Rapunzel hooked her hair over and slid down. Ariel followed, using her trident as the trolley. Sparks flew as the friction made a severe zipping sound.

Elsa coated her hands with ice and glided down the rope, the ground growing ever nearer. She stopped panicking when she was close enough to the ground not to break anything if she fell. Ariel and Rapunzel, one on each side, stopped her breakneck speed and caught her.

"Come on." Rapunzel led them to three horses. They raced into Corona's village.

A gathering crowd hampered their progress to the door. They dismounted and maneuvered up to the front.

Smoke curled up at the doorways and windows. Ropes of fire chewed through curtains and books. Splintered, blackened wood jutted out of the entrance like briar thorns.

"My library..." Rapunzel mumbled.

"Is anyone still in there?" Elsa asked the townspeople.

Most of them shook their heads. Then a crying child yelled, "My mommy!"

Rapunzel looked up. "Ariel and I will search. Elsa, you go around and stop the fire from spreading."

She nodded. Ariel and Rapunzel rushed in without another word. Elsa ran into the alley between buildings.

A window spewed flames. As she shot her power, the air crackled and tinkled. The forming ice fizzled as soon as the fire touched it. She tried again, coating the window frame with ice. Nothing happened, except a faint hiss of steam.

"Why isn't this working?" she muttered to herself. No matter how she forced it, the fire lapped it up. She didn't understand why the fire wouldn't let ice form--mounds of snow would appear almost instantly.

Wait, that was it. Elsa rolled her hands. A ball of snow appeared over the flames. When it dropped, the fire hissed, defeated, as white powder slumped to the ground. She walked the perimeter, dumping snow on flames as she saw them.

At the back of the building, space was tight--all shadows except for a foot-wide swath of light. Thick smoke and high-reaching flames covered the roof overhang of the library. Part of the adjacent building had already caught. Elsa pointed, hammering it with dense snowballs. A few more and the fire withered away. Elsa smiled.

Glass shattered behind her. High above, wood groaned as part of the roof broke off. A charred flaming timber dangled from a thin hinge.

Elsa summoned her power but it did nothing. The timber broke. Elsa screamed again as it tumbled down.

An explosive yellow light shot out of a broken window, pinning the timber against the adjacent building with a smack. It glowed amber before disintegrating into black dust.

Ariel poked her head out of the window. "Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh," she said breathlessly.

"Saved your life," Ariel grinned and returned inside.

Inside, flames rippled across the ceiling, dropping ash like snowflakes. The mural of Flynn Rider was melting into a hideous goop of colors, except for the nose.

"Ariel!" Rapunzel shouted, muffled by a layer of hair wrapped around her mouth and nose. She held up a chunk for Ariel to do the same.

They hadn't found anyone yet. The dancing light and smoke kept objects and their shadows jumping. Whoever they were looking for would have to be right under their nose.

"There!" Rapunzel stepped over the scattered small fires from books. Ariel followed her, chained like a mountain climber. One of the bookshelves had toppled onto another. Beneath, a woman reached out her hand.

Rapunzel grabbed it. "We got you." She clutched the shelf and pulled with all her might. But the shelf didn't move. Ariel joined, but they still it couldn't budge. Rapunzel regretted asking for Kingwood bookshelves.

Ariel backed up and stuck her trident in, using it as a lever. Rapunzel lifted while she pried, but it was no use.

Rapunzel pulled down her mask. "Tie my hair." The two of them wound the golden tresses around the wooden plank several times. Rapunzel tied a knot as tight and fast as she could.

"Ready," Ariel said, giving her the thumbs up.

Rapunzel launched forward, her feet dug into the floor like a carthorse. If she could pull people up a forty foot tower, she could do this. She wrenched her head forward, groaning.

The bookcase lifted. Ariel slid the woman out, wriggling like a snake.

"You okay?" Ariel asked. Coughing, the woman nodded. Ariel pushed her toward the door. "Go, go."

"Ariel, help!"

Rapunzel tugged on her the ends of the knot, struggling to free herself. Both of them pried their fingers into the hair. Their chests hurt from the constant fits of coughing.

Ariel poked the center of the trident into the knot, digging like a giant toothpick. Rapunzel pulled apart the loose threads and yanked herself loose. Ariel helped unraveled the hair from the shelf.

"Got it," they both said. Rapunzel and Ariel dashed for the exit.

The entire ceiling had cracked into a spider web, bulging like a heavy water balloon. Persistent groaning grew louder through the fiery crackle. Cracked roof beams bowed out, like spindly arms that couldn't hold anymore. And they were right under the center.

A thunderous crack sounded. Ariel and Rapunzel shrieked. They crouched and turned away.

Elsa stepped in the library entrance. Ice had never fired from her hands faster or colder. The room filled with hissing and fog, swirling everything to white.

Rapunzel and Ariel blinked open their eyes. It was eerily quiet. No sound of the fire or breaking wood. They looked up.

A thick icicle hung down from the ceiling, like a frozen wasp's nest. Blackened roof debris jutted out, caught in midfall.

Ariel and Rapunzel crab-crawled from underneath the icicle. Elsa pulled them out of the doorway. The girls embraced in a three way hug as cheers erupted.

"Saved your life," Elsa said. "You all right?" She thumbed away a smudge of soot on Rapunzel's cheek.

"Fine," Rapunzel said between coughs. "Feels like I haven't breathed in a week."

"Now I know what a fire is," Ariel coughed, "and why it burns."

The head librarian waddled up to the three of them, arms full of scrolls and documents. "Paden?" Rapunzel asked.

"Princess. Thank goodness for your help. You are a saint."

"Is everyone all right?"

Paden grinned. "Everyone is fine and accounted for. Even the fish. And I managed to save the rarest documents from the archive." He held up the pile in his arms.

"How did it start?" Rapunzel asked.

"No one seems to know. The dry paper didn't help any. Maybe a gas lamp knocked over. The fire spread like it had a vengeance to sate."

Elsa's eyes widened, locked on a scroll rolling on top of the librarian's pile. "What's this?" She plucked it off.

"Oooh, you have good taste. That's the Nordsoen monograph, one of the earliest oceanic maps of our region."

"This is it," Elsa said. "This is what I drew."

She let the others see. "I was so close to the problem I didn't see the whole thing. It's a map."

#Ariel #Elsa #Rapunzel #Tangled #Frozen #The Little Mermaid #Disney #fanfiction #Reprise #fanfic #crossover #disneyprincess