#chapter 4 especially had be fucking shaking. and now i need to re-read it before the next semester starts!!!

[non-un-topo]

He, Dreamless by nizzuto

Part 1 of I don't see the sun (I know it's there)

Through the tear-away of waves and the vastness of oceans and the separation of the three of them, there remains the legend of true love and the infinite fight to get back to it.

A gift for the incredibly talented @guarncre, whose gorgeous fic (and every single fic since) I adore so much. Few fics have so effectively simultaneously ripped me apart and put me back together, and swallowed me up with every word. These drawings have been a long time coming, but I really wanted to show my love for the fic by attempting to capture its evocative storytelling and imagery. And this is my call to everyone to go read it, now! Right now!

[Image description under cut]

[I.D.] Two digital drawings of Joe and Nicky, respectively, depicting scenes from nizzuto's fic He, Dreamless.

Joe is standing alone in a dark brick tower, visible down to his waist. His head is tilted down, his eyes closed, and he has a melancholy expression on his face. Only one of his arms is visible, his hand gently curled over his chest. His hair is long and loose, a few curls lit by moonlight. A deep red garment is draped over his shoulders. Behind him is a small arched window with bars, where a bright moon attempts to shine through. He is half-lit and half in shadow. A small signature in the bottom left corner reads, "Siggy, '23".

Nicky is sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head tilted up and painted with bright, almost heavenly moonlight. He is in a hole underground, and the dark ground can be seen surrounding him. He is wearing a tattered uniform, the details of his clothes mostly hidden in shadow. His hair has been cut short and uneven, as has his beard. He is reaching up with one hand, the tip of his finger poking through the bars above his head. He wears an expression of longing. The moonlight is casting streaks through his fingers onto his face. He's looking at the same moon as Joe. The same signature as the first image is written on the bottom right corner.

#tog #the old guard #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #kaysanova #tog fic rec #all my love to you my friend <33 thank you for your gorgeous writing. it always feels like a precious folk tale or an ancient adventure. #siggy draws #GO READ IT!!!!! I tried my best not to spoil anything!!! #and trust me you don't want spoilers! you will be on the edge of your seat it is intense and so so gut-wrenchingly good #chapter 4 especially had be fucking shaking. and now i need to re-read it before the next semester starts!!! #also the images might look a little small or weird bc tumblr. i recommend a zoom-in for details ;_; #i added a veeeeery light texture over both of them and it might wash them out a little idk

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Stuck With You

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33 🡪chapter 34 🡪chapter 35 🡪chapter 36 🡪chapter 37

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I wanna get stuck with you In the middle of the party We're just getting started I wanna get stuck with you  In the eye of the tornado Rowing in the same boat I wanna get stuck with you Get stuck in the middle with you I wanna get stuck with you

Gotta go with the flow And ride the wave right where we're supposed to Yeah, we can go through all the highs and lows Yeah, life's a crazy roller coaster

click here to be on the update list

NIALL

                                              We were lucky enough to find a store still open, buying everything she needed to snowboard before renting more equipment. I looked at her getting ready with a small smile and tried not to chuckle. She was endearing, and the fact that she was ready to try this just for me meant a lot and also proved a lot.

"Shit, I forgot my phone!" she let out, rolling her eyes and making me raise my eyebrows.

"Do you really need it right now?" I asked with a chuckle. "I have mine." I patted my shirt pocket and grimaced immediately, letting out a groan. "Fuck, I forgot mine too."

"Do you really need it right now?" she teased with a grin, making me smile more.

"Yes, one of us has to have one, just in case something happens." I took my gloves off and put them on the couch next to her. "Wait for me okay? I'll do quick."

She nodded and I looked around, realizing the place was more quiet than I thought it would be. I rushed to the hall and took the elevator, running to our room and walking in. The light was still on and I grabbed my phone on the nightstand where I left it but finally decided to search for hers, too. It took me about a minute to notice it on the desk placed against the wall and grabbed it, turning around to leave, before something caught my attention.

I frowned, recognizing the back of my head on a picture, and took it in my hand to look at it better. My eyes quickly roamed on my shoulder, neck and hair but when they stopped on Devon's forehead and hair, I held my breath. My fingers were slipped in it and my heart started thumping in my chest. I remembered exactly how I felt at that moment, how deep inside her I was, how her lips parted in pleasure. It was the very first time we ever had sex and looking at that picture made me realize we would always have something to remind us of this moment, something that would always bring many emotions inside me, including lust and love. I already loved her at that moment and I wanted to believe she did too.

I ran my finger on the part of her forehead I could see and sighed. It was still not completely clear between us, I knew we had a lot of things to talk about, but I was not sure what exactly stopped her from giving us a chance. I loved her, and she loved me, and obviously, we had been been through bad relationships and I was sure that neither of us would want the other to suffer again the way we had before. Besides, it was totally different. Abby didn't love me and I was pretty sure Henry didn't really love her either.

I couldn't believe she had brought the pictures with her and it made me wonder why she never showed them to me. She had talent to take pictures, there was no doubt about it, but this picture had probably turned out that good mostly because of luck. She couldn't have put much thought into it, giving the position she was in, but the result was incredible and something twisted in my stomach as I looked at it. I didn't know if other people beside us would be able to feel all the emotions that emanated from it but at the same time, I didn't really care. I liked to think we were the only ones who could understand, the only ones who could really feel deeply about it because of how involved we were. It was even slightly scary to know that some people could look at it without understanding the degree of intimacy in it.

I was about to put the picture back on the desk where I found it when the light of the room reflected something behind it. I turned it around and read the words written quickly at first and then slowly the second time. It was Devon's handwriting and I immediately recognized the second part she had scribbled. My heart skipped a beat as I re-read my own lyrics of the song I had written for her and I shook my head slightly. She had an incredible memory and it made the left corner of my lips raise in a small smile. I went back to the first part and my smile fell when I realized she had written an actual verse for my song.

"Darlin', are you always tryin' to blame me? Is it me or 'cause you came here? Just accept that time was wrong Oh, change thee I've been thinkin' bout it lately We never finished what we started Now I'm fearful that it's gone."

I sang it in my head a few times before doing it out loud but still very low. It fitted perfectly and I sighed, my eyes still roaming on the words. It was amazing to think we sort of wrote a song together and I loved knowing that each verse was the point of view of one of us. Did she know the song was about her? That thought made my heart jump in my chest before I rolled my eyes and let out a chuckle. It was not a secret that I loved her, not anymore, and it was a good thing. I wasted so much time trying to hate her even though I knew it was impossible.

I grabbed my phone and snapped a picture of the lyrics she wrote but also of the picture she took to be able to look at it whenever I wanted and finally checked my watch. I had been gone for a while and I rushed out, reaching the elevator as fast as I could. When I walked back to her, she was sitting on the couch, her head leaned on the back and her lips parted. I could hear her snore lightly and I chuckled, shaking my head.

"Devie, hey." I said softly, bending down to shake her gently and making her whimper. "Wake up."

She groaned and sat up quickly, rubbing her eyes and letting out a sigh. She was cute when she slept and I waited a few seconds until her eyes fluttered open to talk again.

"Come on, we only have time for a few basic things."

She got up but almost tripped and I held her, chuckling again.

"You okay?" I asked, moving my face a bit closer to look at her.

She sent me a small smile and nodded. "Yea sorry, just give me a few minutes to wake up completely." she licked her lips and finally raised her eyebrows. "Hey, what took you so long?"

"Oh, I couldn't find your phone." I half-lied, searching my pocket and handing it to her. "I put it in a plastic bag for you, just in case you drop it in the snow or something."

Her head tilted and she sent me a fond smile before pressing her lips together. I felt my heart skip a beat when she moved closer but she stopped herself suddenly. "Thank you."

I wanted her to kiss me. I wanted her to do it first, for once. It seemed like I was always the one who made the first move no matter what we did, especially when it came to something romantic. Maybe she's had had a few initiatives when it came to sex but somehow, whenever it was about love, she seemed reluctant.

"You're welcome." I whispered, fighting the urge I had to kiss her.

We grabbed our stuff and walked outside. I saw her shiver next to me when a whiff of cold air hit us but she still followed me to a very small slope. I tried to show her the basics but she was clearly scared to hurt herself and I finally sat next to her in the snow after she fell.

"How about we go a bit higher?" I proposed, smiling gently when I saw the alarmed expression on her face. "I'll be there with you, okay?"

It took her about a minute to answer. Her eyes roamed on my face and once again, I thought she was going to kiss me and my eyes dropped to her lips. She probably noticed because she licked them nervously and my gaze moved back to her eyes.

"Okay."

I helped her up and we walked slowly to the chairlift in silence. I kept glancing at her and she did the same but it's only when we were half-way there, completely up in the air that everything stopped. My heart jumped in my chest and my eyes got bigger when I realized we were stuck and I swallowed hard, turning to her as she did the same. Her lips curled a bit and she burst into laughing, throwing her head back and making my lips curl.

"It's good luck, remember?" she pointed out, smiling more. "That's what you said!"

"I still think that!" I laughed with her, taking my gloves off to grab my phone. "I'll text Lewis, I know he's near his phone. He can inform them and they'll come get us."

I typed something quickly and sent it, my eyes stuck to the screen until I got an answer from my friend that simply consisted of a laughing emoji and a thumb up.

"It's weird isn't it?" I finally said after a few minutes of silence. "How we always get stuck together somewhere when we have something to solve."

She turned her head my way and tilted it, sending me a small but curious frown. "We have something to solve?"

I turned my body as much as I could to face her and shook my head, my eyebrows raised. "Yes we do. Devie, why don't you want me to say you're my girlfriend?"

"We.. We didn't even discuss it."

"We are now." I pointed out with a sigh. "You said you loved me, we made love this afternoon. I didn't tell our friends because I saw how you reacted when I said the 'g' word this morning in the closet but, what do I have to do?"

"You don't get it."

"No! No I don't!"

I was trying to keep my cool but I wanted her to open up to me, I needed it. I needed her and I needed to be with her. It sounded obsessed, it was intense, but It was driving me crazy to know how she felt without being able to really be with her.

"I do love you! I love you so much Niall I don't think you understand!" she let out before breathing in deeply. I saw her tear up and my lips parted slightly. "You remember when you said I moved you? That my art moved you? Henry used to say that too. I know you're not him, but it's not easy for me to put aside all the pain I went through with him just to throw myself in a new relationship. I don't know how you do it. Abby has hurt you so much too and you're just ready to... to jump back into something official and serious with me." She breathed in and I noticed a tear falling down her right cheek. I wanted to reach out to her but I couldn't, I felt paralyzed. "I am nothing special. I am not like the girls you've been with. I am... I am lost, and scared, and scarred! I love you but I'm scared! I'm scared I'll give you everything and that you'll break me the way I was broken before! But I love you so much more than I loved him! I feel so much closer to you than I ever felt to him! And if you... if you leave... When you realize I'm average... or even below..."

I waited a few seconds, staring at her and she sniffed. It was crazy that she kept all that inside for so long, and at the same time, I was so happy she was finally telling me how she feels.

"Are you done yet?" I asked making her look in my eyes again before sending her a small smile. "Devie, I'm scared too. But I love you, I'm in love with you, and I'm ready to take that chance, because being without you is worse than being heartbroken by you. It's ok to love again!"

She sniffed again and pressed her lips together. I brought my hand to her face and brushed my fingertips on her skin, smiling more. "If you shut yourself from feelings, you may make sure that nothing bad happens and that your heart won't be broken, but you also miss all the good things and all the love you could get." I explained in a low tone. "I can't promise you that everything will always be perfect, but I promise I'll keep trying because that's how much I love you. I told you, Devie, you're my main girl. You're the protagonist of this story. No one can take your role. No one."

Her lips curled too and she chuckled before nodding quickly and bending closer to me. She pressed her lips on mine, making me smile too. "I wouldn't want to be stuck here with anyone else." she whispered, making me chuckle before kissing me deeper.

We started laughing against each other's mouth when the chairlift started moving again and finally walked back inside. We were both very cold and we decided to just go back to our room, taking the elevator in silence again. We both got changed into warm clothes and sat in bed together. She leaned her head on my shoulder and moved her legs over mine. I smiled when I saw her warm socks and left a kiss on top of her head.

"That painting you made here the other night..." I started gently, leaning my cheek on top of her head. "It was the first time I saw you paint with light colors. It was beautiful, it looked like a summer sky."

She reached for my hand on her thigh and intertwined our fingers. "All the paintings I made since I arrived here were about you. My art has been about you and my feelings for you, the emotions you made me feel." she explained, surprising me a bit, especially that all my songs were about her. "You make me feel those colors. You make me feel light and clear and warm. You make me feel alive."

"That's not what the painting in our room says, the one you gave me. There's yellow, but there's so much darkness in it. Every time I look at it, I feel horrible for ever making you feel so bad. I'm sorry, Devie."

She moved away slowly to turn around and face me. Her lips curled softly on the left and she licked her lips, shaking her head slightly. "You got it all wrong, Niall." she pointed out gently, raising her eyebrows. "You're not the black in that painting. You're the yellow. You're the light trying to reach me, stopped by my own demons and fears. You're the light in my life, Niall. You've always been the light."

I brought both my hands to her face and cupped her cheeks, kissing her harder than intended. I felt her move closer and straddle me and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her as close to me as possible. "I love you, Devie, I love you so much." I whispered in-between kisses. "Since the first day."

"I love you too." she murmured back, slipping her hands in my hair. "I always have."

----

We got prepared together the next morning and whenever I'd walk near her, I'd pull her close to kiss her lips and she'd giggle or smile. There was something natural in the way we moved together around the room, even in a place we were not used to, and I couldn't help but think it was a proof that we were made for each other. When we were ready, I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, making her twirl around as she started laughing and I walked to the door, bringing her with me. We took the elevator to meet our friends downstairs but when the doors opened, I let go of her hand, not really sure if she had changed her mind. I didn't want to rush her, and I didn't want to lose her either. She glanced at me but still followed me to the main room where all our friends were waiting for us, talking and laughing together.

I turned to look at her as her eyes roamed on everyone and after about a minute, I felt her hand reach mine and grab it tight. It took a few seconds but Lewis finally noticed us, his lips curling into a smirk when he noticed we were holding hands. He hit Louis a bit roughly who just frowned but finally turned to us too before our friends noticed us one by one. I cleared my throat when Louis jumped off the couch with a big smile.

"Fuckin' finally!" he yelled, catching the attention of almost everyone in the room. "That's it? That's official? You two are dating?"

"Yes, it's official." Devon replied loud and clear, surprising everyone.

I noticed Mandy winking at her and squeezed her fingers tighter as Louis walked quickly to us, throwing his arms around my girlfriend's neck and holding her close.

"Took you long enough." he told her with a chuckle as she wrapped her free arm around him. "I'm so happy for you two."

Lewis walked to me to hug me too and then almost everyone followed. I noticed Abby sending me a small and sad smile from afar and I just smiled back gently at her, surprised that she took it so well.

"Okay!" Louis let out, clapping in his hands. "Who's hungry?"

Everyone started talking at the same time and they all decided to go to the restaurant to get some food before starting the day. I stopped Devon as she was following them, pulling on her arm to bring her closer to me and just wrapped my arms around her as she tilted her chin up, sliding her hands on my back.

"So that's it? You're my girlfriend?" I asked with an amused grin, making her smile too.

"Mmhm, I'm ready to try that boyfriend/girlfriend thing with you."

"Are you happy, Devon Eaton?" I whispered low, looking down at her.

Her traits softened and she looked at me fondly, in a way no one else had ever looked at me. "Happier than I've ever been. I love you, Niall Horan."

"Not as much as I love you."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #niall horan story #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan college au #niall horan au #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

[itsclydebitches]

Welcome back, everyone! Starting here in Chapter Six these recaps are doing double duty with my latest attempt at completing National Novel Writing Month. Granted, this isn’t a novel and yes, I technically started this project well before November, but there’s no way I’d manage 50,000 words of fiction in 2020, so I’m hoping to hit that with these recaps instead. You all get semi-frequent updates and I may get to finally say I completed this challenge! That’s a win-win as far as I’m concerned.

Quick reminder: new teams, CFVY was separated, everything is awful. There, done. Seventy-five pages in we’ve come back to Velvet’s point of view as she and the other students are carted off in airbuses. She’s experiencing the “same shock and dismay” that she saw on Yatsuhashi’s face before they were separated, thus I’d like to re-emphasize last chapter’s argument that though shaking up the teams isn’t inherently a bad idea, doing it in this way while your students are recovering from/still involved in a war is… not so great for their mental health. Yeah, yeah, Remnant is a hard place and these kids experience traumatic events on the weekly, but still. There’s a fine line between preparing students for that kind of life and simply traumatizing them further, because this is a kind of trauma when the teams so heavily rely on one another - fill every aspect of one another’s lives: friend, colleague, family, teacher, student, leader, follower, romantic partner - and you’re now uprooting them with no warning. Whether or not new teams actually happen, the students think they are and that’s messing with their heads. Basically they’re just:

This problem is highlighted when we get confirmation of what I stated last time: the teams aren’t merely colleagues turned friends, but family. These fighters have got all their emotional eggs in one basket. Velvet goes so far as to imply that she loves her team more than her parents, with the logic being that they (her parents) “never talked to each other anymore.” So… if Coco and Yatsuhashi stopped talking would that undermine your love for each of them as individuals? I get what the overall takeaway is - divorce is a nasty business and can leave lasting scars on kids caught in the middle, to say nothing of the fact that, as a young adult, Velvet is poised to start creating a family by choice, not blood - but it’s still an odd way to phrase the issue. Here we have another instance of me picking up on implications due to RWBY, the franchise’s, overall themes. When you’ve got a story so thoroughly touting a teens vs. adults mentality, having Velvet mentally reject her parents for her team reads differently than it otherwise would. Chock that onto the pile that already includes things like, ‘Ruby denies that Qrow ever helped her’ and ‘Yang is no longer a part of grieving for Summer’ and ‘Weiss seems to have forgotten all that Klein did for her.’ There’s a lot of uncomfortable details attached to our heroes and how they see the adults in their lives, parents included.

Velvet doesn’t get to worry for long though. A much happier voice sounds across the airbus and she spots Sun, classically hanging from his tail. Instead of hearing more about her fears we segue into - you guessed it - Sun bashing. The first thought to pop into her head is that Sun “wasn’t with the rest of his team, but knowing Sun, that might have been his decision.”

...Velvet, you just tried desperately to stay with your own team and were (somehow) swept away by the apparently overwhelming crowed (still ridiculous imo). But if you didn’t manage this, what makes you think Sun had a chance? Why is his separation suddenly a potential choice when yours was presented as nothing of the sort? That is some real insistence on thinking the worst of him. I dragged Sun for abandoning his team in Volume 4 because that was abandonment. It was a choice worthy of criticism. This? This was outside of his control and Velvet knows it.

Sun saw her, smiled, and waved. Velvet looked away.

Nice, Velvet.

He comes over anyway and (kindly!) asks if she’s okay. Velvet says no, specifically because “Yatsu and I were separated.” Here we have another example of how close the partners get even within each team. Blake and Yang are inseparable. Ruby talks to Weiss more than her sister (and the concept of her talking to Blake in any meaningfully way is hilarious at this point). Now, despite being separated from her entire team - everyone is in the same awful boat - Velvet frames the situation as just being separated from Yatsuhashi. Later she repeats, “Well, I still want to try to find Yatsu.” So would it be a disappointment to find Fox or Coco instead? It’s especially weird because in the main show we see Velvet and Coco interacting the most. I actually had to look up who Velvet’s partner was because I just assumed our two girls were a duo. Apparently not. I’m not really into the CFVY side of the fandom, but I imagine there’s a substantial ship community for these two based solely on how Velvet embraces RWBY partnerships in this book, outside of the always popular Velvet/Coco, of course.

That’s admittedly a ship I can get behind. 

After Velvet unloads all her worries “Sun stared ahead, like he couldn’t quite manage to feel bad.” Attention, readers, this is an important lesson coming up! In fandom spaces I often see people analyzing novels (and other print media/visual media with narration) without taking into consideration the perspective. Unless we’ve got an omniscient perspective we need to take into account that our narrator might, simply put, be wrong (and even then, omniscient unreliable narrators are a popular choice). Often I see readers taking a characters’ thoughts - and words - at face value, which is understandable given that we’re meant to emotionally connect with them, but we have to keep in mind that this is their interpretation of events. We see the story through their eyes, how they perceive the world, but their perception of the world may not be accurate or, at the very least, is open to further interpretation. Sometimes this is used in an obvious, plot-driven manner - there’s a surprise twist for the reader, made possible because our protagonist was likewise kept in the dark - but it applies to our reading of more casual interactions too. This is a good example. Just because Velvet says Sun looks “like he couldn’t quite manage to feel bad” doesn’t mean that’s actually how Sun feels. As we’ve just re-established, Velvet is inclined to think the worst of Sun, or at least consider the worst as a distinct possibility. So if we’re asking the question, “Is Velvet’s perspective accurate to reality here?” weighing her previous assumptions against actions like Sun smiling, waving, and asking how she’s doing, AKA caring about her situation… I’d say no, it’s likely not.

At least she doesn’t outright accuse him of anything. Given that he’s not privy to these insulting thoughts, Sun chatters on about the test. He thinks it “isn’t a bad idea” because, as established, a lot of students lost teammates and are having trouble settling into Shade while still trying to live the life they had at Beacon. Changing the teams could be a “chance to really commit to our new school and our training, and learn from one another in a new way.” That’s what I think!

“Right… Or maybe some of us burned bridges with our team and might be looking for an easy way to avoid fixing those relationships.”

Velvet what the actual fuck. Can our cast NOT be assholes for five minutes??

Sun goes red at the accusation and calls her out on being harsh. “Tough love” Velvet calls it. Okay, no. Tough love is reserved for people you’re actually friends with and is meant to have them face a harsh reality they might be avoiding. Sun is avoiding an overt apology with his team, but we (and Velvet) have been given no indication that his thoughts on the test are a smokescreen to hide ulterior motives, which is what she’s talking about here. Sun clearly wants to make up with his team, he’s just struggling to accept what needs to be done to do that. Tough love would have been Velvet encouraging Sun to use this separation to reflect on what his team means to him and then, regardless of whether they end up back together, apologizing for how he unintentionally hurt them. Not… this. Plus, again, Velvet hasn’t exactly been friendly lately. She has little ground for dishing out “tough love.” You need established “love” before the “tough” part.  

In addition, she’s not listening to what Sun’s saying. “If they want us prepared for an attack, breaking up teams sounds counterproductive.” When did Sun mention anything about an attack? That’s your assumption of what’s going down based on the illegal investigation you’ve been assisting with. Sun just said that changing the teams would provide some of them with a much needed clean slate, which is true. Just because that’s not what Velvet needs doesn’t mean it’s not useful for others. As she eventually acknowledges, they can get too comfortable in the roles they’ve been playing.

We get her line about wanting to find Yatsuhashi followed by, “Sun, you do whatever you want. That’s what you’re good at.” Velvet seriously? Then minutes later she’s hoping Sun sticks close to her if he can. Real talk: everyone deserves better than this. ‘Friends’ who constantly act like your presence is a burden, insult you whenever they get the chance, insist such insults are for your benefit (it’s just tough love), but then turn around and play nice when you have something they want... those aren’t friends. Note that Velvet is - both privately and overtly - mean to Sun while he’s just existing in the airbus, going through the same horrible test as her, trying to be nice, and holding an otherwise civil conversation. While trapped on the bus with nowhere to go, Sun is a nuisance despite his best efforts. When the floor suddenly opens up and Velvet is terrified of falling and surviving on her own though, then his presence is desirable. That’s not friendship and in another story I’d praise the author(s) for writing a compelling move from shaky acquaintances to a strong bond… but I’m honestly not sure that the relationship (any of them, really) will improve. Far as I can gather, Myers thinks this is friendship.

So Velvet accuses Sun of always and forever hurting others in his pursuit of doing what pleases him (after checking in on Velvet… literally minutes ago…) which is right around when Scarlet decides to make himself known. He agrees with Sun’s belief that this test will be harder than they assume: “I think you’re right… For a change.” Everything comes with a caveat. Apparently Scarlet has been listening in the whole time, but somehow manages to turn that into an insult as well with “I’ve been standing five feet away. Maybe I’m ready for a new team, too.” Wait, is the implication that Scarlet is further annoyed because Sun didn’t notice him? Do you all have ANY idea how many times a friend has stood right next to me and I didn’t notice them because I was caught up in something like work, a show… a conversation? I’m oblivious af. I get that Sun has things to make up for but at the very least these characters could keep their criticisms to what he’s actually done wrong, not crazy reaches like, ‘Sun probably abandoned his team when everyone was separated’ or ‘Sun was busy talking to Velvet and didn’t notice me eavesdropping, so I guess I don’t mean much to him, huh.’ I’m constantly torn between the presumed realism of this writing - people are unfair in their criticisms, teens do hold unsubstantiated grudges - and acknowledging that Myers seems to have felt confident writing (1) personality and just gave it to everyone. Velvet privately becomes as critical as Coco, who is as vocal as Fox, who agrees with Yatsuhashi, who echoes Sun’s team, and Sun himself often throws that attitude right back. Round and round we go. 

As one might imagine, the three begin theorizing about what the test itself will be like. Usually Shade sets up initiation just like this. Students are transported in windowless airbuses, dumped in the desert, and told to find their way home. I’m interested in the bit about how teams are made up not only based on arrival, but also “the manner in which [the students] survived.” It definitely lends support to the assumption I’ve always had that the teams can really be random. At least not entirely. There’s strategy on the part of the instructors, thinking through aspects like, ‘Well, these two students used their wits in this manner so they’d pair together nicely.’ Or the reverse, ‘Put together the strategist with the student in love with blunt force, let them balance each other out.’ I certainly don’t think that Ozpin formed teams based solely on who ran into each other first. Not only do we have agency on the part of the students (Weiss leaves Ruby, then Jaune, then goes back to Ruby), as well as the fact that two sets of partners had to be paired together someway, but Ozpin was also carefully watching their whole performance. If the only thing that mattered was getting back to Beacon with a chess piece, why bother examining their choices? Shade appears to employ a similar setup of careful decisions portrayed as randomness, which would make sense given that Ozpin set up these schools. Though all the headmasters may not realize it (is Theodore a part of the inner circle?), or perhaps don’t agree with his methods overall, Ozpin’s influence is undeniably evident in each institution we’ve seen. 

The only difference between normal initiation and this test seems to be that the students have to find a gold figurine this time around. Though as our trio points out, there’s likely to be other differences as well, otherwise the original Shade students would have a pretty significant advantage. 

During all this Velvet remanences about Beacon’s initiation and we learn that Ozpin does, apparently, use the whole ‘Throw you into the woods where you’ll find some relic’ setup each year, as Velvet remembers being “thrown into the air” during hers. She also hits on another concern that hadn’t crossed my mind until now: what if a team includes a new student alongside the “more vocal in harassing recruits from Beacon and Haven?” It might do the Shade students some good to get to know the newcomers, but it’s not the newcomers’ responsibility to teach them some basic respect and kindness. 

During all this Rumpole, via a screen, has been explaining how the test will go down. Her little info session concludes with her telling them to “Prepare for drop-off… See you back home soon.” I really like that she used the term “home” here. It says something about how she views the school and her students’ place in it, despite the tough attitude and tougher culture of Vacuo.

Turns out, when Rumpole said drop-off she meant that literally. The floor opens up and we get a mix of some students panicking while others just happily jump out. 

Yeet. 

Like I said, Ozpin’s influence. 

I didn’t understand the panic initially - aren’t landing strategies a basic part of huntsmen training, something everyone (except Jaune) is expected to know coming into a school? Isn’t it at least partway through the year when everyone, even firsties, has had practice at this? - until I remembered Rumpole’s comment about how she hoped everyone remembered to bring their weapons this morning.

…that’s one hell of a lesson. Let’s break this down for a second. Yes, everyone at Shade is expected to carry their weapons at all times, but the meeting that started all this was early in the morning and, far as I can tell, entirely unexpected. ‘Supposed to’ is not the same thing as ‘will,’ especially when one is dealing with college-equivalent students who are still figuring expectations out. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that someone did leave their weapon behind. So now what? These buses are thousands of feet in the air, dropping students randomly as they jump/fall. If a student did need help how in the world would a professor assist them? Do they just expect other students to help like Pyrrha did for Jaune? It’s possible given that in a moment Octavia will help Velvet despite seeming to dislike her... but that’s not something I’d want to bank on. Whether a student forgot their weapon or has a weapon unsuited to a landing strategy, they’re going to die from this fall. Yeah, yeah, the test is supposed to be deadly, but what’s there to learn then? You’re dead! The lesson ‘Don’t forget your weapon’ or ‘Find a weapon more suited to landing strategies’ will never stick unless there are contingency plans in place to ensure that students survive their first mistakes. 

It just all seems kind of flimsy, like everything works out because the plot says it must, not because I believe this in-world setup is geared towards keeping students alive and teaching them how to survive this world. (The reverse of the story conveniently not killing civilians off during a major grimm attack.) If landing strategies are so crucial to a huntsmen’s work - and we see them a lot - why are students allowed to have weapons like Yatsuhashi’s Fulcrum that, far as I can see, provide you with no way of slowing your descent? What if you don’t have a suitable semblance? Or it hasn’t been unlocked yet? What if your weapon would work, theoretically, but you haven’t taken any pictures of other suitable weapons lately (Velvet)? What if you never figure out that there are parachutes on the ship? Unless the instructors have a secret way of saving someone from getting splattered, this seems like a test rife with deadly mistakes, not just encounters. Why not teach your students to carry mini high-tech parachutes on their belts, with weapons and semblances as backups? Incorporate Atlas tech into standard schooling, then give us huntsmen who suddenly have it taken away with the embargo, resulting in a lot of problems. I mean, the students are legit scared in this scene, Velvet included. Having them face deadly grimm is one thing, but why test the odds with a thousand foot plunge when there’s absolutely no reason to? Far as I can see, the schooling isn’t built around ensuring they survive a fall like this - nothing like weapon requirements, or carrying additional gear if you semblance is something like Ren’s - which means making the fall a part of the test itself is... not great. 

Which, to be clear, is the fault of the author(s) and how much thought (or not) they’ve put into their fictional school, not the fictional school’s fault because it’s, you know, fictional. Basically, the world building in this series kind of drives me nuts, in case you haven’t noticed lol. 

Velvet does find the parachutes, oh so conveniently, and at least has the decency to give one to Sun. Also yeah, kudos for thinking to search for them in the first place. I do like the ‘survival is the only thing that counts’ theme. Cheating, lying, and the like is great when it’s used because the odds are already stacked against you. We get her agreement to try and stick close because remember, there’s nothing like a dangerous situation to remind you to be decent towards someone else. As Velvet magnanimously thinks, “Being with Sun would be better than being alone.”

Okay. Low bar, but okay. 

So they fall and we get to hear a fair bit about Vacuo’s history based on what Velvet remembers about each landmark from history class. Honestly, I’m impressed at her recall. I wouldn’t be able to dredge up class notes while falling through the air. We get an abandoned city previously hidden by sand and the somewhat confusing sentence, “These were all that was left of the underground mines, the Drylands, the site of the old Paradise Oasis, long since dried up following Dust mining and the Great War.” Are these three separate places among the rock-less area pockmarked with holes? Or is this a single area of underground mines, called the Drylands (for some reason?), that includes the contrasting place called Paradise Oasis? I’m not sure. The takeaway though is that Velvet hopes Coco isn’t heading to that ambiguously named place because she’s incredibly claustrophobic.

What I find the most informative in all this is the description of the quarries as “physical manifestations of the wounds that still ran deep in the people of Vacuo.” The overall issue of outsiders coming into Vacuo, draining it of its resources, and then taking it back to their own kingdoms (while leaving their trash behind) is the sort of theme significant to our own lives and worthy of examination in fiction… Not saying that RWBY necessarily handles this theme well - especially given the messy conflation of that generational trauma and the awful treatment of any ‘outsider’ who wanders into the kingdom - but I do appreciate when I can see the series trying. Even if it fails, effort is (to an extent) still worth acknowledgement.

What I’m less inclined to praise is the strange follow up of “maybe that was why Rumpole was sending students there.” …what does this mean? Velvet just told us the quarries are the “wounds” of Vacuo, so are they being sent there because they’re dangerous? Because huntsmen will somehow fix this?? Neither of these make sense but I literally don’t know what point Myers is trying to make… which happens a lot. Again, there’s a whole lot of wise-sounding statements in this novel that, at the end of the day, mean very little - if anything at all.

Velvet eventually lands, nearly getting pulled into one of the openings when she can’t get out of her parachute. She’s saved at the last moment by Octavia Ember, a member of Team NDGO. You know, “One of the people she least wanted to run into.” We all knew the moment Velvet worried about running into one of the crueler members of Shade that it would happen.

Their conversation is filled with heartfelt gratitude and riveting greetings:

“Thanks?” Velvet said.

“Whatever.” Octavia sheathed her blade and started walking away. That was more like it.

What is wrong with all of these people? My kingdom for a kind, enthusiastic, non-team exchange!

You know the ‘enemies forced to work together’ conflict couldn’t end there though (a trope I normally love and would likely love here except having Octavia be another stereotypical mean girl was the least innovative choice possible). She and Velvet end up heading towards the same quarry, simply because there’s nothing else for miles around. Velvet displays some quick thinking when she explains that the instructors likely hid the relics in there to ensure they weren’t forever hidden under the sand. Velvet, unlike Yatsuhashi, has also realized that there’s more to the test than just their fighting skills. They’ll be graded on everything, “Including how we treat each other.” I’m always appreciative of characters who use their brains as much as their brawns.

Perhaps that not-so-subtle nudge resonated with Octavia because she opens up a bit. By this I mean she moves from “Whatever” to telling Velvet the traumatizing story of how she lost a third of her clan to Blind Worms in one of these quarries. Okay. That’s a complete 180, but I’ll take it. Velvet continues to have supposed insights about the Vacuans like, ‘Maybe they don’t cry because that’s a waste of water?’ and ‘Maybe they hate everyone on principal because of the past?’ and ‘I guess bullying is just something you’re supposed to survive out here’ (um… no.) In Velvet - and Myers’ - defense she acknowledges that none of these explanations excuse their actions… but I’m not so sure it explains them either. A few chapters ago we were hammering home how teens don’t have an emotional connection to their past, despite it not actually being that long ago (recall Coco’s conversation with Rumpole in class), but now we’re supposed to believe that all of these teens reject newcomers because of stuff that happened during a war they weren’t alive for? Also, I’m neither a doctor nor an anthropologist, but the concept of a desert people refusing to cry because it’s a waste of water - especially in an otherwise advanced civilization - seems suspect. I can buy someone being unable to cry because they’re currently dehydrated, but a whole culture denying themselves this outlet when most of them don’t actually lack water anymore is odd.

Granted, culture isn’t always logical. Case in point: memes. So let’s give that a pass. 

However, we’ve still got the issue of continuity across paragraphs. First Velvet is smug because she’s a better climber than Octavia. Then Octavia is ahead and supposedly annoyed that Velvet was slowing her down. It’s unclear when, or if, they’ve finished climbing at this point and a second later Octavia is climbing a tree - why didn’t Velvet do that? Really, I lay little blips like this at the feet of the editors, not the author(s), simply because as an author I know precisely how easy it is to lose track of every detail you’ve introduced. It becomes obvious to the reader when things don’t quite align, but it will often go unnoticed by the writer - like typos. (RIP my own work.) Which is why you need that second perspective to not just catch the big mistakes, but tweak all the smaller ones too. RWBY is now a part of WarnerMedia and Before the Dawn was published by Scholastic. There’s a standard here I don’t think either is meeting.

As said previously though, Octavia climbs a tree because Velvet - with faunus eyes - spotted a trinket the others had missed. Octavia falls, Velvet catches her, and a whole swarm of Ravagers show up, which seem to be a bat-like grimm. Nice. My gothic, vampire, Stellaluna loving ass can get behind that. 

Behold: my childhood.

They make a run for it and we - finally - get some solidarity as Octavia admits that the relic is technically Velvet’s and Velvet wonders in turn if they can share it. I offered my kingdom for a kind exchange and I got it! Hurray! More importantly, apparently that is an option because the airbus coordinates have shown up on both their scrolls. I’m not going to pretend that I understand how that tech works, but that’s a level of world building we don’t actually need. Not unless the hypothetical of students piggybacking on another’s relic is a part of the evaluation. 

I love that Velvet used her camera flash to scare off the Ravager in their way. That’s a fantastic twist on the ‘Velvet will use her semblance and impress Octavia’ expectation as well as a great way to demonstrate that she is a formidable fighter, capable of paying attention to her situation/surroundings and responding accordingly.

There are more Ravagers though, incoming Blind Worms, an avalanche… and the airbus. A narrow escape indeed. Octavia drops that attention-catching, “Thank the Brothers” as they reach safety.

Going back to my earlier point about Shade seeming happy to kill its kids, apparently Velvet and Octavia were the last to reach the bus and Sun told the pilot to wait. That says good things about Sun, but horrible things about the test. If Sun hadn’t insisted on staying would Octavia and Velvet have had a way out? Why in the world wasn’t the pilot told to wait longer?? The whole timeline is confusing, with Sun and Velvet leaving the airship only a short time after everyone else, but it looks like the whole group was way ahead of them (the quarry is empty of both relics and people by the time they arrive), except Sun managed to get super far ahead of Velvet somehow, and their pilot was apparently working under an unspoken deadline… I’m just taking information at face value because if you try to piece it all together, good luck.

Also sorry, but I straight up laughed at Sun’s “You woke up the Ravagers. And you lived to tell the tale.” That is so unnecessarily dramatic. Oh no. Not the Ravagers. Literally the first thing I thought of was some B horror movie like

Coming only to a streaming service near your couch because we’re still living through a pandemic. Wear your masks, friends!

Back to this very entertaining reaction. Sun, you and Velvet have both taken out Atlesian knights, you fought a gigantic sea monster with Blake, and Velvet just bypassed a nest of Ravagers with a simple bright light. If RWBY is going to randomly try and make the grimm threatening again, do it with stuff that actually reads as a significant threat to these fighters. After you’ve got your first years blasting through (Yang) and riding (Nora) bear grimm at initiation, a couple of bat grimm just doesn’t cut it. 

Moving on, Velvet’s iffy perspective rears its head once more as she thinks, “What if Sun had passed by the trinket in the tree, knowing it would be too dangerous to retrieve it? She and Octavia had not had that luxury.”

There’s a lot wrong with this theory: 

How do you know Sun has better vision, even as a fellow faunus? As Volume 7’s Tyrian attack brought to the surface, supposedly not every faunus has that advantage.

Velvet straight up says that she wasn’t able to see the Ravagers, otherwise she would have warned Octavia about them. The whole point is that they startled her and she fell. So what, Sun not only has faunus vision but better than Velvet’s? (Do monkeys have better vision than rabbits? I have no idea, but this is the kind of stuff I would google if I wanted to potentially draw attention to it in my book). 

If that trinket was too dangerous to retrieve, why did the instructors put it there in the first place? Fox mentioned things being unfair with his lack of sight, but that’s a pretty big difference: easy grabs in a supposedly abandoned quarry vs. a grab that wakes up the whole nest of grimm.

“She and Octavia had not had that luxury” why does this sound like another dig at Sun? Like it’s worth criticizing that he… got there first? Got lucky with the relics closer to the floor? Probably because everything is a dig at Sun in this book, including Velvet’s surprise that he might have “respect in his eyes.” Velvet! He was just asking about you, made the bus wait, and has always worn his heart on his sleeve! Sun’s respect/care is not in question, only how he chooses (at times) to display it.

Not that the story seems to get that. We can’t work through Sun’s questionable choices if we’re stuck in this never ending loop of ‘He’s so annoying/incompetent/willfully cruel’ into ‘Hark! is that a positive trait I see?’ and then back to ‘Never mind he’s awful.’ Maybe Velvet’s pride at his reaction to the Ravagers will finally move things forward.

Which is where we leave off. The airbus scares off the other Ravagers with its guns, the group heads back towards Shade (or a second part of the test? That did feel too much like a normal initiation to be fair), and Velvet ends with the equally dramatic line, “The initiation ritual had been hard and almost deadly, and even worse was yet to come: the assignment of the new teams.”

I have to say though, that is the most teen-accurate thought I’ve seen so far. An 18 year old would be more scared of their team social life than getting eaten by a monster lol.

On that note, drop a comment or an ask if you feel like being social yourself and I’ll see you during the next burst of NaNoWriMo energy! 💜

[ Ko-Fi ]

#rwby #BTD Recaps #Before the Dawn #mymetas

[depressedacadamia]

De Humani Corporis Fabrica

Chapter II: Experience

Word count: 6.9K

Summary: Pjo dancer AU! Drama, drama and more drama. Old relationships and new ones continue to bear the weight of the upcoming auditions all while a special person makes a guest appearance.

A/N: I didn’t mention it before but they are aged up in this series! I picture them to be in their pretty early 20s but I like to think that they’ve known each other for a long time and other characters joined during their teen years. Make sure you enjoy, comment, like, share, reblog- yall know the drill. <3 from moi!

Taglist: no one :( [send a message and get on my taglissstt]

Read Chapter One here!

Le Studio Royal Jupiter was becoming competitive again. The members were still getting used to hearing that. To Nico, it was like a miracle; he had trained since the petit age of 2, waiting for this moment and now he was finally getting it. He wished his sister was here to celebrate such a moment but he knew that if she was here, the studio would have never stopped competing in the first place. The tragic incident had occured at the studio years ago and it had forced them to temporarily stop competing.

Everything seemed better- the sky (which was always a depressing sight) seemed brighter, the studio mirrors were cleaner and Dionysus was less lazy and more salsa-y. Studio 2 was empty on a Monday afternoon- as always because Dionysus would never schedule his lessons on a Monday as he saw it to be ’too drab’. Hazel and Leo however, who were dedicated to the studio, were almost always in on a Monday.

Hazel- in her De Luca heels- was practising a spin that she hadn’t been able to get down for ages while Leo was practising his ballet technique. While he was normally a salsa dancer, every dancer in LSRJ, including himself, was relatively well versed in ballet; Leo knew that working with Calypso would mean a lot of technical work. He was trying to get at least 3 turns in a row without feeling like he was going to fall- one more thing, Leo hated pointe shoes.

“Leo, what on earth are you doing?” Hazel's voice cut through Leo’s thoughts.

“I’m working with Satan, take a wild guess.”

“Yikes,” Hazel cringed. “How’s that going for you?”

“She walks out at the beginning of rehearsal, refuses to talk or work cooperatively and insults me as well as Salsa itself at every chance she gets- so Hazel, you tell me. How do you think it’s going?”

“Leo I’m sor-”

“-And it’s not even the fact that she insults me, it’s the way she treats me and salsa. Like all of a sudden, I’m inferior because salsa has no ‘proper technique’. Like wow, ballet is so sophisticated and you’re so cool. Congratulations, you and your pretty arms and pretty legs and fancy, snazzy vocabulary!” Leo ranted. Hazel, who was more used to the more creative and funnier side of her partner, frowned; she was slightly worried about him.

“Maybe consider dropping out on her?” Hazel offered.

“What will I do though? We both know that I can’t get on the team with a solo. Salsa works best with a partner. Besides, sure Calypso is the devil spawn, but that does not mean I don’t appreciate good technique.”

Hazel raised her eyebrow. “Didn’t you say that Luke, Annabeth and Nico all had better technique than she did?”

Leo, who was smiling smugly and had both his eyes closed, cracked one open and let his smile grow across his face.

“A small lie never hurt her nor anybody else.”

Hazel, who seemed quite unconvinced, nodded as Leo continued.

“What about you?” Leo asked. “How’s things coming up with the B-boy?”

Immediately, Hazel lit up. “It’s pretty good actually. I think Frank and I actually have a good chance of making the team!”

Leo noticed how Hazel had seemed so keen to talk about Frank and took this as an opportunity to tease her.

“So does that mean you won’t need me to fake being your boyfriend again?”

“What?” Hazel took a glance at Leo’s smirk. “No! No, we’re just friends. Friends, yes, yes. Just friends. He’s just a friend.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”

“I’m. Not. Crushing. On. Frank,” She gritted out with her fists clenched.

“Okay,” Leo said in a sing-song sort of tune.

“I’m not!” She shouted before lowering her voice to a small whisper. “ Not after Sammy.”

Leo’s features immediately softened at the mention of his older brother. Hazel talking about Sammy had opened up old wounds that Leo thought had healed- he thought he was over this!

“After all this time Hazel? Still Sammy?”

Leo half expected her to say ‘always’ as if they were re-enacting Harry Potter. Secretly, he hoped that she didn’t. What had happened with Sammy was long ago and Leo never wanted to see Hazel in such pain again. They weren’t just dancer partners like himself and Calypso, they were friends. Hazel, to Leo’s avail did not respond; they remained silent the entire rehearsal.

In Studio A... Nico had never wanted to punch someone in the face as much as he wanted to punch Jason in this very moment. Afterall, it was Jason’s fault that Nico was partnering with Will. It wasn’t that Nico didn’t like Will, it was just that working with someone who was annoyingly attractive (Nico’s exact words were a hot piece of ass) often resulted in not working as well as one should.

It also meant Nico had to wear his tap shoes.

“Will, do I have to wear these?” Nico complained.

“We’re testing out ideas. We start with tap and then we’ll do ballet.”

“So that means I will see you in pointe shoes then?” Nico inquired, his voice suspiciously innocent and his eyes battering too fast. Will, in response, grimaced and nodded reluctantly.

“Perfect!” Nico hummed happily. The pain of tap shoes was nothing compared to pointe shoes. As Will laughed slightly at Nico’s taunting, they began going over the basics. Nico watched as naturally the corners of Will’s lips twitched upwards as he danced and taught. His smile was perfect, his moves in sync with the music blaring in the background- practically flawless.

Nico however, struggled a bit with certain parts that Will taught- not that he was surprised; he expected tap to be overly energetic. While they both took their break, Nico began spinning round and round on his tap shoes. He couldn’t really help it- they were so easy to spin on- it was like they were just begging him to turn.

“Nico, stop spinning like that, you’ll fall and get hurt,” Will warned as he sat in a corner, sipping at his water bottle. Nico ignored him and continued mucking about- only stopping to stick his tongue out at Will who on countless occasions, continued to attempt to warn Nico. Will could feel his own heart fluttering at the thought of an injury.

“Fuck!”

Will’s head snapped in towards Nico who lay on his butt, clutching his ankle. The ballet dancer was hunched over his foot, cradling his ankle with both hands.

“Shit! Nico I warned you! Where does it hurt?” Will asked with a thick layer of concern in his voice as he ran over. Slowly, Nico began shuddering, his body almost shivering as he made whimper-like noises. He refused to meet Will’s eyes as he continued shaking.

‘Shit, he probably injured himself really badly if he’s crying’ was the first thought to cross Will’s mind.

“Oh my God,” Nico said shakily. Will gently rested his hand on Nico’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Nico, it’s going to be okay. It’s probably a minor fracture at the most. You will be fine.”

Unexpectedly and out of nowhere, Nico threw his head back and began laughing.

“Holy moly, I can’t believe you actually fell for it!” Nico wheezed as he clutched his stomach. “And your face!”

Will in utter disbelief, took about 30 seconds to fully understand the situation and yet these were the first 5 words.

“You were lying to me?”

“It was a joke! I was just trying to prove that Ballet dancer’s aren’t as uptight as everyone thinks we are!” Nico laughed. Will could not believe this. He should have never partnered with Nico especially considering he was friends with Percy and Jason of all people. He started packing up, aggressively shoving his stuff into his sports bag. Nico’s laughter died down as he turned to Will, confusion growing on his face.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Viciously, Will turned on him. “I’m going to go dance. I’m not going to hang about with an immature and undedicated dancer.”

“Surely a small prank doesn’t change anything. I mean, there’s a reason you chose me-”

“- I chose you because I wanted a hardworking and professional partner, not some bumbling idiot who walks around like they own the place and does what they want!” With that, Will left and Nico sat on the floor.

Welp, Nico was never socialising with Will again.

In Rehearsal room 4... “Turn, turn, push back and drop!” Piper yelled over the loud music. Jason and Piper had been working hard- taking turns in choreographing different parts of the routine. They held their freeze for 5 seconds before relaxing and agreeing to take a break.

“So what was that earlier with Nico, huh?” Piper started.

“What d’ya mean?” Jason innocently responded. “ He needed a partner.”

“So I was imagining the look you guys had?”

“What look?” Jason sounded shocked.

“You guys had a look.”

“Like you and Annabeth?”

Piper could feel the immediate blush rising to her cheeks. She couldn’t help the way she felt- was it her fault that he best friend had gorgeous curly blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes? She turned her head slightly away so Jason couldn’t see her face.

“Nico and I go way back- we trust each other,” Jason chose his wording very carefully.

“Well… So do Annabeth and I…”

“Good… wanna go over the Hip hip section again?” Jason offered, desperate to change the awkward tension that had suddenly appeared in the air. Piper eagerly nodded.

In the Cafe... “What do you mean she’s with Leo? Frank, they’re just dance partners, nothing more,” Annabeth re-assured. She sat in the elegant armchair opposite Frank with Percy on her left. They were in the cafe that was underneath the studio- it was custom for the dancers to meet up here during lunch.

“But… are you sure?” Frank asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“I give you my word Frank- they’re just good friends.”

At these words, Frank relaxed. That was until Leo and Hazel both walked in silently; their bodies close to each other but their faces catatonic. As they came to sit down, they both moved towards the same seat and exchanged a series of bumps, ‘ouches’ and ‘errms’ until they managed to sit down. Annabeth and Percy exchanged a wary look as the awkward silence between the two stretched out.

Nico stormed in, his face scrunched up as he ordered a coffee and plopped himself on the armrest of the chair that his ballet partner, Annabeth, was sitting in. He had a dark, raging and violent aura around him and carried on sulking until Annabeth spoke up.

“Nico, is that coffee?” Her voice had a hint of worry.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “What’s up with you two? Lovers quarrel?” Nico pointed to Leo and Hazel who both immediately froze up. Leo, who was mid- sip, choked and began wheezing for air while Hazel gently patted him on the back. Frank, subconsciously, flinched.

“Dancers quarrel,” Hazel sighed after Leo had stopped choking before turning towards her brother.

“Wait, you’re drinking coffee? Again?” Hazel raised her eyebrows at Nico. The last time she recalled him drinking coffee… Well family tensions had been higher than ever, Nico was a literal caffeine addict and Hazel had been helping the ‘love of her life’. Nico had gotten over the caffeine addiction, well at least, she hadn’t seen him touch the substance in years so the sudden appearance of it alarmed her- What had happened to him that drove him back to coffee? Nico on the other hand, simply batted his hand signalling ‘later’.

“Does anybody want to break the awkward silence?” Percy murmured out of the corner of his mouth, looking down at his fidgeting hands.

“I heard an awkward silence needs breaking?” Jason appeared before them. “ Guess what?”

Almost immediately, the entire crowd perked up and asked ‘what?’

“Nu uh, I actually want you guys to guess.”

“Did your new pointe shoes break in?” Annabeth suggested.

“Please get to the pointe,” Leo tutted. Jason shot his roommate, a playful scowl, as he was used to the terrible jokes. Everyone else (except Percy) groaned, throwing their heads back and Hazel face palmed at the terrible jokes- sometimes she asked herself why they were friends.

“You guys are pathetic,” Jason hummed, his arms folded smugly.

“Bro, just tell us!” Percy pleaded, sick of the timely wait.

Jason took a deep breath, holding the tension out for as long as possible. “Well… Chiron’s returning!”

“Like returning returning or just visiting returning?” Annabeth immediately cut in, stopping all the whoops that had erupted from the happy news. Well mainly happy. After the incident, Chiron was left without half a leg which stopped his dance career. It had been hard for him and the dancers around him- tensions had never been worse within the studio and so for the sake of the dancers, Chiron had left to teach dance theory. He had visited every once in a while but if he was ever going to come back- since he was the owner of the studio- no one really knew.

“He didn’t really specify…”

“On the plus side, he’s probably gotten like what 14 new stories about the wheelchair?” Annabeth exclaimed. Percy, who knew about the wheelchair, threw his head back laughing as he remembered the previous stories of it. As they fell into a conversation recalling all the previous stories about the wheelchair, Leo had to clutch his stomach while laughing.

“I love that dude- he’s the only one who doesn’t take Calypso’s bullshit.”

A piercing voice came out from behind them. “Well, Calypso had been looking for you this past week. Where have you been?”

Outraged, Leo retorted, “Where have I been, where have you been?”

As the two started shouting their heads off at each other, the group of people fell silent and everyone agreed to leave them to it. Before Hazel left, she noticed the darker undertones of Calypso’s normally flawless skin as well as her red rimmed eyes.

“So, where have you been?” Leo repeated, almost drawling. Calypso ignored the question and instead told Leo to meet her in Studio A (Leo rolled his eyes at the choice of studio) in a half hour. Leo had to clench his hands to stop himself from making some sort of witty smart- alec response; he wanted to try his best to get along with Calypso because the sooner they finished the routine, the quicker he’d be able to get on the team and avoid her.

Back in Rehearsal room 4... Jason was very lucky to have Piper as a partner- mainly due to her great ability to adapt to new styles. Having a famous father who could easily (and would happily) pay for anything she asked, Piper was gifted. From her good looks, her various talents and her sparkling personality, one could say that Piper Mclean had it all.

Oh, how wrong one could be.

They had agreed to perform a musical theatre routine focusing on hip hop and tap- the styles which moulded together best. They were doing well with their choreography and had finished their routine and were now going over it- making sure everything was clean and worked.

“Hey, let's take a break here,” Piper panted lightly with her hands resting on her thighs. Jason nodded with a brief smile on his face- could you blame him? He had managed to improve his tap by miles compared to the small amount of improvement he would have made with any other person. He jogged towards their bags and pulled out both of their water bottles;he threw Piper’s bottle at her. Perfectly, she caught it .

“Our routine is great, we totally have a chance at making the team,” Piper told Jason as she took a sip of water and plopped herself on the bean bag in the corner of the room by their bags.

“Percy and Annabeth’s chemistry may blow everyone out of the water,” Jason said mindlessly as he sipped water. Piper visibly flinched at the statement- it was small but noticeable for Jason.

“What? What’s wrong? If it’s those two, trust me- they’ll be too busy fooling around to perfect their routine.”

Again, Piper seemed a tad uncomfortable. She had tried to not cringe at the mention of Annabeth but it was quite hard when Jason kept on mentioning it like it was simply nothing. Her face had momentarily scrunched up before she quickly attempted to smooth it out. Jason frowned with an expression that simply read ‘What’s wrong?’

“Well… uh, Annie,” Piper hesitantly started, trying to find an easier way to explain. “I have really short nails.”

“Okay…?” Jason, utterly confused by the random fact, frowned again. Piper sighed at his innocent persona and tried to emphasize what she was implying.

“There’s a reason I have short nails…”

“Because you don’t like long nails?”

Piper, impatient, facepalmed and decided to find a better explanation. She turned to his sister as an easier topic.

“Why does your sister have short nails?”

Jason’s face scrunched up for a few seconds, looking up towards the ceiling before his eyes bugged a bit and his lips pursed into an ‘o’ shape.

“Oh! Oh… so like lesbian or-”

“Bi.”

Jason took a deep breath. “ Well, I'm happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me and I’m proud of you...and I hope you’re happy Pipes.”

She nodded, more confident and happy that Jason hadn’t made too much a deal of it- he was a dear friend whose opinion she cared about dearly. She felt she could truly trust him.

“Soo… Annabeth huh?” Jason wiggled his eyebrows. Piper smacked his arm before retorting back.

“I’ve seen how you look at Percy- looks like a budding bromance to me.”

Jason choked on his water, sputtering everywhere and was left absolutely speechless.

In Rehearsal room 1... “5, 6, 7, 8!” Calypso calles as they started the sectioned choreography again. Leo internally groaned as they started again with practically no enthusiasm behind his moves. While the dance wasn’t bad, Leo wasn’t afraid to call out the dance so far was bland. It was all classical ballet and no spice. It was too boring for him and if he were an audience member he would take away points for lack of creativity. After what seemed like 4 days but was actually 40 seconds, they finished.

“Make sure your turns are in time with mine,” Calypso pointed out as she paused the music. Leo had to physically hold in the urge to make a remark. He glanced at his watch and his eyes almost bugged out of his skull. It was 4pm? Already? He knew he had to leave now or else he was going to be late. He grabbed his bag and started changing his shoes ino more suitable footwear. He snacthed his jacket, slipped it on in a rush and almost walked into the door due to the rush he was in.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Calypso’s voice coming from behind made Leo freeze. Shit. What was he going to say? Where were his excuses?

Breathe Leo, make a simple lie- can’t be too hard.

“Uh.. just grabbing something from the cafe. I think I left something there.” He jutted his thumb towards the door before slipping out to avoid Calypso’s questions. He had one more stop to make before he left.

In Studio B... Frank was learning a lot from working with Hazel. Other than the obvious (like her beauty being even greater up close), he also learnt more about salsa than he ever had in his entire life. Their routine was finally complete but they were trying to find the perfect place to insert a lift. The timing for it had to be perfect. Too slow and Frank gets injured. Too fast and Hazel falls.

As they rehearsed the routine and approached the final move, Hazel slipped- effectively pushing Frank on his back and Hazel falling right on top with her body pressed against him; practically straddling him. Frank’s head made a loud ‘thud’ sound on making contact with the solid floor- clearly it had won this battle between head and floor.

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?” Hazel rushed out, still unaware of the compromising position. Frank nodded meekly, not wanting to further aggravate the pain in his head and reached his hand to rub the back of his head. It was only then did their eyes meet, Hazel’s eyes widening at the realisation of the position. Just as she was going to scramble off, Leo busted through the door. Frantically, Leo sputtered,

“Oh, sorry… er am I interrupting something?” Hazel almost flew off Frank and quickly made her way to Leo who now bore a small smile on his face,

“Just friends huh?” Leo mumbled. Hazel ignored the comment and instead asked what Leo was doing here.

“I gotta leave for work and Calypso is on my ass. Do me a favour- if she asks where I went say I had an appointment or something,” he whispered, his mood changing rapidly. Hazel nodded, loyal to her friend and ran to her sports bag. She whipped out her purse before waddling back to Leo, her fingers mindlessly rifling through the notes in her purse as if it was worth nothing more than paper.

“How much do you need for the bus fare?”

Leo’s hand immediately pushed back at Hazel’s purse, who again, ignored it. He was not about to take her money- not again at least, not until he paid her back for the previous times. It was hard though, because Hazel always insisted everything be on her and refused to allow him to pay her back in any way.

“Hazel, I’ve told you. I don’t want to take your money,” Leo pleaded, his face seemingly uncomfortable. Sure, he didn’t want Hazel’s money but he did want money.

“Ridiculous.” Hazel shook her head as if the mere idea of her caring whether he paid her back or not was utter ludicrous. She pulled out a thick wad of cash. “I don’t care. Here. Should be enough for the bus fares, lunch and other stuff.”

Leo hesitated. He needed this money. Bus fares, food expenses, new dance clothes and his share of the rent along with other things. But the idea of taking Hazel’s money always left a bitter taste afterwards- he hated feeling guilty over her money. Hazel on the other hand, was not going to let Leo refuse and shoved the cash into Leo’s pocket before pulling him in a tight and surprising hug. Her arms were wrapped around Leo’s back and in return, he closed his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. She smelt like flowers- no doubt from the expensive products she could easily afford along with the fact that her step-mother, Persophone, owned a fragrance line among other things.

“Gracias,” he muttered, squeezing her shoulder in an affectionate manner.

With the short knowledge of spanish she knew from her best friend, Hazel replied, “De nada.”

Confused, Frank watched the entire interaction.

Back in Studio A... Annabeth and Percy were not practising. While every dancer, perhaps excluding Nico, were nervously practicing every beat of a move they performed, Annabeth and Percy were not really stressing. In fact, they hadn’t worked much on their routine in general. Annabeth was lying on her stomach with her face in her hands and her legs dangling back and forth. Percy sat next to her, with his arms around his legs. They were both listening to their ex-mentor who was in a wheelchair. Chiron was simply talking about something that had recently happened with his two favourite students.

“He did what!” Percy and Annabeth shouted in sync.

“I told him that if he performed, he would have been scouted, but alas- Luke refused. He came with me but it was a true shame I didn’t get to see him perform. He’s been with the studio for so long now, I do find it odd that he has yet to move to a professional career,” Chiron sighed- slumping slightly in his wheelchair.

“How’s the leg doing?” Annabeth asked, hoping the subject was no longer sore.

“Which one?” Chiron smiled mischievously as he pulled the blanket off his legs- showing both legs seemed present. Normally, the bottom half of the left leg would seem empty unlike what they were seeing now. Percy looked a bit confused for a few seconds.

“But… but Chiron, you only have one leg.”

Annabeth slapped her head before breaking into fits of laughter. Both her and Chiron were laughing their heads off until Annabeth kindly explained.

“Prosthetics Percy! Prosthetics!”

Chiron flexed his left foot, showing off his new leg. The dancers were awe-struck. As far as they had known- Chiron had refused prosthetics since the accident. They felt an insurmountable amount of pride swell inside of them- This was good right? Chiron was moving on! He wasn’t being stuck in the past anymore. It wasn’t that fact that he got a prosthetic, it was the reason he used to refuse it. Annabeth and Percy knew that he didn’t want a prosthetic at first because if he couldn’t dance using it, he’d consider himself a failure and after the accident, he did not want to face any more failure than he had to- he wanted to protect himself.

And for a while, that was okay! The studio was supportive- they truly wanted him to heal. But Chiron was stubborn. He was -what one may dare even say- traumatised. But no one could truly blame him- Nico, someone who was barely conscious during the accident, suffered. No one could blame Chiron for what had happened but there looks. People who weren’t even relatively involved whatsoever casted glances. Gave their fair share of judgemental looks- despite not even knowing the truth. However, Chiron learnt better than to acknowledge said glances.

“Woah, Chiron, when did you get it fitted?” Percy asked in awe.

“A while ago. I wanted to manage a few steps in it before showing you all.”

Annabeth and Percy looked at eachother, the same thoughts, concerns and hopes crossing their minds.

“Can you take a few steps in it?” Annabeth said tentatively. Much to the students' hopes, Chiron nodded and both dancers ran to his side to help him stand. He held both of them as he heaved himself up and momentarily wobbled. He then pushed away their arms as he slowly made a few steps across the dance floor. He made his way towards the ballet bar, his hand stretching towards it. At this moment, Nico walked in, his jaw dropping before immediately resuming to a neutral facade.

“Nice leg,” Nico commented before making his way to the bar. Percy and Annabeth, once again, made eye contact thinking ‘what's up with him?’.

“ You ask him,” Annabeth hissed.

“No you ask him,”Percy mouthed as he nodded his head towards Nico.

“No, you!”

“I’m not asking him. Besides, he’s your dance partner,” Percy whispered. At this, Annabeth knew that Percy made a valid point. If there was anybody Nico trusted, besides Hazel for some apparent reason, it was Annabeth. The two danced together their entire lives, Nico couldn’t hide anything from her- not even his crush on Percy which many other people had seen as a crush on Annabeth herself. Annabeth on the other hand, could clearly tell the difference between jealousy and having a crush. Other than Annabeth and Jason, Nico refused for anyone else to know.

Annabeth sighed, shooting daggers at Percy as she got up and walked towards Nico. For the next 5 minutes, Nico and Annabeth stretched side by side in silence while Chiron and Percy chatted on the other side of the room.

“Soo.. how are things going with your routine?” Annabeth started as she leaned over her leg at the bar. Nico grunted something incomprehensible as he tried to avoid her by doing a plié. Annabeth joined him, asking him to speak up.

“Will walked out.”

“Why?”

“I played a dumb prank on him about getting injured.” Annabeth had to pinch herself to prevent herself from gasping. Nico? Her lifelong dance partner made… a joke? Pranked someone? Was this actually Nico?

“Well, why did you do it?”

“I was tryin to prove that Ballet dancers aren’t so uptight.”

“What exactly did you do?” Annabeth’s tone dipped and sounded slightly suspicious but either way, Nico did not notice.

“...Pretended to get injured… but that isn’t even the problem. My problem is that my chicken of a partner called me a bumbling, incompetent, priveleged idiot and then, then… they just bailed on me!”

Later, when Annabeth, Percy and Jason were in the cafe, Annabeth retold Percy and Jason about her earlier conversation with Nico- not sparing a single detail about the clear distress the situation was causing him.

“Happy now Jason? Paired Nico up with a damned jerk,” Percy said aggressively.

“I didn’t think he was such a big a bitch as you did!” Jason argued. Annabeth could sense the tension between the two men and decided to push them apart. She stood between them with her hands resting on her hips.

“I told you two so we could help fix what happened; not just argue over it and point fingers.”

“I never liked the damned sunflower anway,” Percy huffed. Annabeth resisted a giggle from Percy’s terrible insult.

“Anyway, someone needs to talk to him- see his point of view, try and get them over the petty argument.”

“Petty? Will insulted him over nothing!” Jason almost shouted, his aggressive and protective side shining through.

“Which we can all agree was wrong. But.” She glared at the men. “We also know that Nico can and will hold grudges over anything as long as time lasts.”

In agreement, they decided to all visit Will because there was no way in hell that Annabeth was letting Percy and Jason talk to Will alone.

Somewhere in the Dance studio... Calypso was pissed. It seemed that most days, she was thinking more about Leo than she’d prefer to. Sure, he was gorgeous- naturally gifted in the looks (and don’t tell him this but also the personality department) with his lucious brown curls that framed his face perfectly and the beautiful glint he’d have in his eye when he danced and they way his teeth would glimmer when he smiled like the true definition of pearly whites. But, she was also wondering about his whereabouts, more and more frequently.

She had checked the cafe, Studio 2 and Dionysus’s office (she did not know what to think of him) with no sign of Leo whatsoever. She knew that there would be only one person who would know where Leo was- Hazel. However, it seemed that Leo and Hazel both had something in common- the inability to be found anywhere.

Finally, she found her about to head out for the day entirely.

“Hey, Hazel.” Calypso tapped her on the shoulder, pulling her away from her conversation with Frank. “Have you seen Leo anywhere?”

With no tact whatsoever, Hazel stuttered out a ‘no’ that had Calypso raising her eyebrow in suspicion at her- clearly not believing the lie. Internally, Hazel forced herself to calm down and think. What had Leo mentioned, what could she use, what could she lie about?

Think Hazel, think!

Leo had mentioned saying something about an appointment- yes! Hazel mentally prepared herself and the words came magically stumbling out of her mouth- rolling off her tongue as if she lied on a daily basis.

“Well… you can’t tell anyone okay?” Hazel whispered convincingly, drawing Calypso's attention in. “ You can’t let Leo know that I told you this but he’s at an appointment, for his knee. He injured some time ago when we attempted a lift badly and well, you know…”

Calypso immediately felt regretful. It was like she was truly the villain half of the dancers here thought her to be. No wonder he was barely putting any effort into the dance! Not only was he injured but he was injured and doing ballet- a style he wasn’t so regularly familiar with. And she had been treating him like shit about it as well! She could feel the guilt slowly creeping into her.

“Oh my, Hazel.... I’m so, so sorry,” she managed to say. Hazel, also overwhelmed with guilt, wanted to take back the lie and just say the truth. Leo was at work to pay for his dance fees- why was he so ashamed of it! Hazel offered to pay for him but he would refuse everytime. She wished that he’d let her pay for him- her father had more money than he cared for and oftentimes, Nico and Hazel found themselves paying for everything they and their friends could truly desire- not that they minded. This was the one thing she could do for Sammy but not Leo and for it, her thoughts taunted her.

At least Sammy accepted her money, her help. Gods, don’t think like that Hazel. Money can’t save everyone, you know that Hazel.

Hazel glanced back up to see Frank waving at her and could only manage a small sullen smile.

On the way to Studio A... Calypso needed to get back to Studio A and perhaps find some edits for their routine- maybe lighten the ballet on Leo. Maybe Leo preferred Salsa because it was easier on his knee? It didn’t make sense to Calypso but despite not wanting to admit it, she had seen how happy it had made him. She’d have to ask Hazel or Dionysus about the technique of it but she had taken a few classes in it before and so she tried a few steps she’d seen Leo do before.

She soon realised that he made it look a lot easier than it actually was- she remembered how she had insulted salsa and it’s supposed ‘lack of technique’. But then, she also remembered how he’d insulted her by saying she wasn’t the ‘best ballet dancer’. What did that even mean? Her- not the best? Impossible. She had worked too hard her entire life for that to be possible.

For the sake of Leo and his knee (and reliving some of her guilt), Calypso persevered and tried to teach herself some basic salsa moves. The basics weren’t too hard, it was simply that trying to com[pletely abandon her ballet technique wasn’t very easy and subsequently, she found herself looking very stiff.

“What are you… doing?” a seemingly alarmed voice, that belonged to none other than her rival, called out. Flawless teeth, truffles of soft hair and glass like eyes- Luke Castellan walked in, his lips pulled into a smug smile that truly tempted Calypso to smack him.

“None of your business, Castellan,” Calypso quickly snapped.

“Castellan?” He turned towards her with an innocent look that quickly turned malicious. “That’s not what you were moaning under me whe-”

“-Shut up. That’s over, we’re over. We were over ages ago. It’s not happening again. Not after you lied to me.”

Luke frowned, his features seemingly cute but Calypso knew better than to trust what he portrayed on his face. When it came to Luke, the quote ‘there is no art to find the mind's construction in face’ should really be taken seriously. He moved himself so that he was working at the bar that was in front of the very mirror that Calypso was using. Calypso ignored him, going over the routine over and over again. However, Luke seemed determined to get in her way so he continued to stretch in front of the mirror until Calypso completely snapped.

“What?” Her hands were on her hips in a threating manner and face looked like she was ready to commit murder.

“Oh nothing.” Luke shrugged before quickly speaking again. “It’s just, I’d never imagine you’d actually partner with such… scum I guess.”

“A, why do you care who I partner with? B, Leo isn’t that bad,” Calypso reluctantly defended him. Leo to her definitely was that bad, but she sure as hell was not letting Luke know that.

“It’s a bit sad how you really downgraded after me… and I doubt that your nachos boy will be able to guarantee you a spot on the team…” Luke trailed.

Calypso had to admit that the name ‘nachos boy’ was hilarious and she definitely intended on calling Leo that some time.

“Are you okay?” Calypso’s concerned voice immediately threw off Luke. “Or have you just not seen a mirror in a while? Because anything could be considered an upgrade after you. Leo? That’s like what? A Triple upgrade in the least- Let it be known, when it comes to how good looking people at this studio are, you are like basically the last person.”

“And yet, you dated me. No, you pursued me even,” Luke teased, his voice with undertones of malice like a poison laced apple- sweet talking with a bitter aftertaste.

“People make mistakes.”Calypso shrugged casually as she grabbed her bag and left the room.

In the musical theatre office... “We just… wanted to make sure you and Nico were doing well with your routine,” Annabeth urged Will who refused to talk to Percy or Jason.

“So Nico sends other dancers to talk for him now?” Will frowned, relatively upset that Nico didn’t come to him. Sure, he had been really harsh and Nico did deserve an apology from him but he was hoping that Nico would come to him, not his three older and more experienced friends who seemed very threatening.

“He um, well Nico didn’t send us..” Jason said, slowly realising their mistake.

“So you decided to come and talk to me about our problem on his behalf without his permission or his acknowledgement? Did he even directly tell any of you what happened?”

“He told Annabeth!” Percy defended.

“And you wonder why we don’t get along,” Will sighed and facepalmed. “ Well, if it makes you feel any better, me and Nico are perfectly fine.”

“You guys… have talked?” Annabeth asked warily.

“We will.” And with that, Will waved them off.

9PM- Rehearsal room A Nico’s turns were consistent and his warm breath was forced out of his chest and he heavily breathed. The lights of the studio were all turned off except for the rehearsal room he was occupying. He could feel his leg muscles burning, telling him to stop but he ignored it, forcing his body into a state of pure divinity- his arms spread like a black swan, ethereal and elegant. His olive skin was shiny, a thin layer of sweat across his body and beads of perspiration forming on his forehead as he carried on moving. His feet pranced, hopped, turned, kicked, swept and jumped. In the lighting he looked like a god with his onyx eyes, framed by his dark eyelashes and messy hair that moved with his every step.

Click clack. Click Clack.

Immediately, Nico stopped, recognising the sound. He turned down the classical music and took a few bows, the sarcasm in his movement clear.

“Thank you, thank you,” Nico drawled, clearly slightly pissed.

“I didn’t even get to clap.” Will pouted. “Did my shoes give a good reminder?”

Nico nodded but refused to continue speaking to him. He refused to speak to Will until he felt like talking to him again- he wanted a decent apology which should include Mcdonalds and wine. Speaking of wine, Nico definitely wanted some after the day he’d had. He knew Hazel always had something delicious but she lived near their parents and that always presented the possibility of his father popping in- not that he really hated his father, it was his wife, Persephone (who had given Nico a perfume that had a flower that he was allergic to).

“Are you not gonna talk to me?” Will asked, his hands in his pocket and with a slightly disappointed tone.

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I overreacted to something that was seemingly innocent and I shouldn’t have been such a…”

“Bitch?” Nico filled in.

Will let out a whole hearted laugh. “ Yeah, I guess bitch is the right word. Anyway, I’m really sorry that I called you that…I shouldn’t have judged you based on your friends.”

“Being forgiven will not be so easy.”

“Do you need a Happy meal?” Will teased until Nico’s silence filled the room. “Wait, seriously, just a happy meal? Deal.”

“Well, now that you mention it, some wine would be nice. Maybe a day away from the studio,” Nico mused as he stuffed his stuff into his bag carelessly. He’d hate himslef when he had to organise it at home but it was really late and Nico was hungry as fuck.

“I hear that Chiron is taking out some students to the beach this week. I’m pretty sure Calypso is coming, she’ll let me tag along and I’m sure Annabeth will drag you there anyway. We can have our… reunion then,” Will decided as they walked out of the studio. Nico stopped as he fished out the studio keys and locked up the font doors. Nico wasn’t truly fond of the beach but it was free food and a chance to hang around his friends.

“Sure.” Nico nodded. “It’s a date.”

Will watched as Nico got into his car. For some reason, Will felt himself blush at those very words- It’s a date.

Those words ended up replaying in Will’s head until they met again on Saturday.

#percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #leo valdez #Leo Valdez fanfic #annabeth chase #annabeth chase fanfic #hazel levesque #Nico di Angelo #Nico Di Angelo fanfic #Hazel Levesque fanfic #will solace #will solace fanfic #frank zhang #frank zhang fanfic #Jason grace #Jason grace fanfic #piper McLean #piper McLean fanfic #hoo #tumblr #dancer au #solangelo fanfic #enemies to lovers #percabeth fanfic #caleo fanfic #reyna ramirez arellano #Thalia grace #Luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #de Humani corporis fabrica

[motleycrueroadie]

Along for the Ride (pt. 7)

Author’s Note: @sonyawongraven - thank you for reaching out and reminding me about this story. I hope that this update meets your expectations for my writing!

 Previous Chapters: One I Two I Three I Four I Five I Sixx 

When I was a kid, in the rare times that I would read, I had read briefly about a mythological Greek creature called a phoenix. From what I remember, a phoenix cyclically generates itself wherein it combusts and the new phoenix rises from the ashes. In some ways, my music career and myself as a person could be described as phoenix. Frank Feranna Jr. went up in flames and Nikki Sixx rose from the ashes. More recently, the inevitable downfall of London was catalyzed by yours truly in an anger driven resignation by fire and the unnamed band of misfits rose from the ashes. After watching Vince perform at that excuse of a “party”, I knew he was the front man we wanted for the band. However, the silence that came after that realisation was paralyzing and continued to constrict until Vince’s arrival. Despite the fact that we would have found another front man, I was doubtful that he would’ve lived up to the vision I created in my head once I saw Vince play, so I was grateful enough that he had finally shown. Now we had the basic outline of a band but needed a name and a reputation for that name. Of course, in building that name I would also be able to cash in on Janis’ promise to attend our first show. 

Janis’ unwavering presence continued to bewilder me with each passing day. My internal pessimistic voice attempted to convince me that she was simply thrill seeking, sticking around because I was her polar opposite and it attracted her. The juxtaposition between us was especially highlighted at the pool party. If Janis had been separated from us, I would’ve had a hell of a time trying to pick her out of the crowd. However, I had to remind myself that Janis didn’t come looking for me. For all the time that I have been living in this building, she has been right above my head. She knew of my existence and never came knocking on my door, but she freely allowed me to walk straight into her life when I sought her out. So each day, these opposing views struggle to dominate my perception of her, attempting to maintain this enigma status to her. The thing was, I knew she wasn’t an enigma. She has never created a veil of illusion to who she is. When I asked her about her parents, she told me. I came to understand that Janis treated everyone like they were her friend but you only knew her if you had asked.

“Baby? Are you coming with me?” The whine in Vince’s girlfriend’s voice was undeniably the most annoying fucking thing I have had to endure this afternoon. She’d been here since we began at 4:30 and she made me want to bash my head against the fucking wall and leave my corpse for the roaches to eat. Glancing over to the microwave in the kitchen, the time read 8:15 which meant that Janis would be bringing down dinner in fifteen minutes. Apparently Tommy followed my glance at the clock,  I could literally watch the kid’s hamster in his brain pick up speed on the wheel as he realised the implications of the time. Tommy probably only understood the fact that he would be fed and not that this whiny bitch had not taken a liking to Janis earlier. 

“Dude you have to stay, JJ,” Don’t get this bitch started Tommy! 

“WE have things to talk about and we want you to stay for them Vince.” Mick was the one to interrupt, catching Tommy’s inability to remember details. Tommy looked over at me with his mouth still open, obviously confused as to why he had been interrupted so I met his look with a quick shake of my head to indicate for him to drop it. “That is, if you’re willing to leave Rock Candy?” We all looked at Vince expectantly, waiting for his answer. 

“Yeah of course man.” Almost instantly, a genuine smile broke out on my face, Tommy and Mick were donning similar smiles, the latter’s was more subtle in comparison. Sticking out my hand to Vince, he shook it firmly. The smile on my face only continued to grow as his girlfriend took the hint that he would not be joining her and left, slamming the door behind her. 

“What Tommy was about to say before I interrupted him was a reminder that Janis is going to be down in a few minutes with some dinner, but I figured that it was best if that were left unsaid in front of your lovely girl.” Looking over at Tommy, watching his hamster go into overdrive with Mick’s comment was amusing to say the least. Too bad I didn’t know how to play poker because Tommy would be so fucking easy to win against. There was a sudden and uncoordinated knocking at the door and Tommy jumped up from his seat to answer it. Opening the door revealed Janis with a dish in her hands,

“I’m a tad bit early but once I saw that beautiful car leave, I figured this place would be safe for me to enter.” Janis spoke as she crossed the living room to place the dish down on what little counter space there was available. Turning back to face us, she spoke directly to Vince “Your girl has natural guard dog tendencies, but judging by her perception of me as some threat, you” pointing her finger in a mock accusation, “must be the real dog.” Vince, by now sat on the couch, slouched his hips forward and stretched his arms out across the back of the couch.

“You,” Vince imitated her enunciation, “ walked in here wearing very little clothing, all giddy and excited. Can you blame her?” Janis looked quite shocked at this statement, and turned to look at me for support. I for one, knew she had no ill intentions, but knowing that it would get her flustered I shrugged my shoulders slightly to. My intentions of flustering her worked as her cheeks turned rosy and she began playing with the skin of her nails. 

“Holy fuck Janis.” Mick spoke with an air of exasperation at her, “They’re busting your balls. You didn’t come off as an adulterous whore looking to fuck this asshole.” She let out a breath that none of us noticed that she was holding in and I laughed at her frustration to which she began laughing as well while flipping Vince and I off. She looked back over at me, 

“Is it a safe assumption that you don’t have any cutlery or plates for us to eat off of?” She knew the answer to her own question, but had asked it anyways, a habit that annoyed me. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a smirk, and she moved her head in the direction of the door. 

“Someone come help me bring the rest down, and DO NOT,” she whipped around to catch Tommy about to reach under the tinfoil to pick at the dish, “touch the food with your bare hands that have not been washed since god knows when!” She strode over to him grabbing his arm, “In fact you can be the one to come and help me!” Since first meeting her in the diner, Tommy knew not to argue with Janis on the matters of etiquette and manners so he simply allowed himself to be dragged out of the apartment. Placing the bass gently into the stand, I walked into the excuse of a bedroom, which was in fact a mattress on the floor with blankets haphazardly strewn across it, to retrieve some papers for naming the band. As I emerged from the bedroom, Tommy and Janis re-entered carrying what appeared to be plates, cutlery, salad, and buns. 

“Why didn’t we just come up to your apartment? Considering the amount of stuff you’ve brought down, wouldn’t it have made more sense for us to come to you?” I asked her.

“Am I not allowed a change of scenery?” Shaking my head at her, she grinned knowing that once again she had answered my question with another question rather than just giving me an answer. “Anyways, I’ve made baked pasta and Caesar salad for you all.” Tommy of course had his plate ready and his ass back on the couch before she even finished the statement. Grabbing beers from the fridge, I placed them all on the table before glancing expectantly to Janis while holding one in my hand, she nodded back to me. Once we were all seated, I began alternating between eating and shuffling through the papers and notebooks in front of me trying to find what I was looking for. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Janis watching me. 

“So here’s my theory okay?” Speaking up suddenly, I had their attention, “Look, if we want to knock people on their asses then we’ve got to give them a show. The punks? They’re doing the minimalist thing, so let’s take this in the exact opposite direction…” Tommy and Vince were nodding in agreement with me, while Mick remained stoic and difficult to read. However, I was only looking towards Janis at this point, not because she was an integral part of the band that I needed approval from but because I was nervous. Being nervous at this point sounds stupid, but I have been thinking about this band long before these guys were sitting in this room with me. “I’m talking, I’m talking a stadium show in the clubs, man,” unconsciously my hands were talking with me as I grasped at ideas, “Like, like costumes and lights and…”

“Pyro and flames and shit! Explosions.” Tommy exclaimed. Janis glanced over at him and gave a light laugh as she turned back to me, but his enthusiasm only built confidence in me that at least he shared my vision. 

“Exactly! Exactly!” Becoming more focused, I reigned back in the conversation. “Look it’s a fucking war out there and the only way we win is by showing these kids something they’ve never seen before.” 

“So what do we call this thing?” Vince spoke, signaling that he was also on board. Flipping through the notebook pages, I continued “You know it’s all about being fucking larger than life.” Stopping on the page, I looked up to Vince and showed him the pentagram symbol and ‘XMASS’ name. 

“X-MASS?” He questioned. 

“On a scale of 1-10? I think it’s a 1.9.” Spoke Mick. The others gave snorts of laughter while I felt slightly defeated. 

“It’s a play on Christmas. You know? You can use all the Christ imagery and shit. It’ll piss people off and make people think!” My attempts to steer this conversation back into my direction did not appear to be going in my favour. “It’s got shock value.” 

“Yeah, I’m shocked at how much it blows.” Mick stated. Exasperated, I put the notebook down on the table. A business pitch gone astray, I had lost them. Janis glared at Mick before letting out a sigh, and picking up my notebook to flip through some of the pages.

“Not quite sure what religious trauma you went through but I’m sensing a theme here.” Setting the notebook back down on the table, she looked me dead in the eyes and spoke genuinely, “You don’t want to piss the wrong people off and the church are definitely people to steer clear of. Also you’re overestimating the intellectual capacity of the club goers Nikki. They don’t want to think.” She shrugged her shoulders, “They just want to get fucked out of their minds and listen to good music.” 

“Alright then assholes, you give it a shot, but fucking make it big.” Each of them grabbed a notebook off the table, save for Janis who continued eating her dinner while glancing at the clock in the kitchen. I followed her gaze to see it reading 9:00, looking back I caught her eye and she winked at me before looking down at what Tommy was writing. She smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand and he laughed as he turned the notebook around to face us. A crudely drawn dick with the words “The Fourskins” written on it was the best he could come up with. 

“Really Tommy?” I feigned annoyance while I laughed. 

“Yeah cause we’re going to fuck the audience in the face every night dude!”

“But can you see that shit on the marquee above the forum every night?” Again, I had unconsciously talked with my hands, splaying out across a fake marquee. 

“Yeah you’re right. I’m out.” Tommy tossed the notebook back onto the table as Janis gave him a whispered scolding for essentially wasting his breath but I knew she found it funny too. Mick seemed to be deep in thought, so I jutted out my chin at him and he turned the notebook around while speaking, 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” The paper read Motley Crew. Janis chuckled lightly at this, looking around the group while I took the notebook from his hand to add a few tweaks to it.

“Don’t think I could have thought of a more encompassing word for you lot.” Janis and Mick exchanged a look and she held out her fist to him, he smirked and reached across the table where he sat to return the gesture to her. Turning the notebook back around to the group, it read Mötley Crüe. Despite losing their attention earlier, they all nodded in agreement to this name and the encouragement energized me.

Not long after our name had been decided upon, Janis (with the recruited help of Tommy yet again) packed up the leftovers and made her way back to the apartment. It had almost slipped my mind that it was a Monday night and she would be headed to work. She thanked us for letting her intrude on our band naming session, which I found to be amusing considering that she had been the one to feed us for free. Once Tommy had returned, the drinks were flowing and I was beginning to get a sense of who Vince was and I quite liked it. Over the past few weeks, I had been able to go out with Tommy and Mick. Tommy proved to be someone who I could raise hell with and although Mick wasn’t a complete buzzkill, he did not seem keen on joining in the festivities. He humoured us by dryly laughing at our antics but his heart never seemed to be quite into it. Although, maybe Janis could get him to loosen up a little bit. Mick seemed to tolerate her a bit more than he did Tommy and I for whatever reason. 

“So what’s with that Janis chick, Tommy mentioned her at the party more or less as cherry on top of the offer,” 

“Must not have been why you really came seeing as you showed up with a chick. Also please don’t bring her back here.” Hoping to steer him clear of the topic of Janis, I would rather not listen to him talk about her like I assumed he would. I loved pussy as much as the next person, but Janis wasn’t pussy.

Vince began listing reasons why he kept his girl around, among which was money, something none of us had a lot of. Fuck. If I had known she had access to cash, I would’ve been kissing her ass rather than been at her throat earlier. He briefly apologized for ghosting us on the offer but explained that he had eventually listened to the tape and liked it but also figured that he owed it Tommy to come for helping him out when he was in a tough spot in high school. If he didn’t feel in debt to Tommy, he probably wouldn’t be here. I couldn’t tell whether I should respect him or be annoyed. Doesn’t matter now cause he’s here. 

With enough beers in my system I was beginning to feel cramped in the cluttered and frankly gross apartment and felt I had enough of my company for the time being. It was a bit difficult to shake Tommy off but I told him to stay at the apartment with Vince and Mick so they didn’t feel they had to leave. The Whiskey-a-Go-Go was only down the street from the apartment building and didn’t take long to reach on foot. Staring up at the marquee, I knew that our name was going to look great up there and it was simply a matter of time. Turning the corner, I could see the fluorescent sign of my destination in the distance. Approaching the same window I had seen her in initially, Janis was not visible, but I could hear Jump in the Line by Harry Belafonte playing from the jukebox inside meaning that Janis had acquired some quarters. Opening the door, I reached up and stopped the bell from ringing to maintain a stealthy approach. This one looked quite similar to the one above Janis’ apartment door but newer. It clicked that she must have taken the old when it was replaced. Turning my head left and right I could see a pair of bent sun kissed legs on the ground peeking out from underneath a table with one converse clad shoe tapping along to the beat of the song. Approaching the table, making sure to keep to the side so that she wouldn’t be able to see me, I shifted uncomfortably when I saw that the skirt of her uniform was riding up on Janis’ thighs as she sat on the floor appearing to scrape gum off the bottom of the booth. 

“For someone scraping gum off tables, you look pretty happy.” She jumped slightly at the surprise of my voice and banged her head off the table, cursing and rubbing it while glaring up at me. Holding out my hand to her while laughing at her pain, she smacked it away with the straight edge scraper and made her way off the floor. 

“You want a JC?” She questioned, making her way over to the bar. 

“Of course.” Sliding into the booth, I made my way over to the jukebox that had stopped playing to slip a quarter in and chose a personal favourite. The opening guitar sequence to Dream On by Aerosmith rang throughout the diner and Janis nodded appreciatively as she approached with the JC which I gladly accepted and downed in two gulps. She smirked up at me in what I could only describe as a devilish grin. I smirked back down at her, “What?”

“Did my spit make your drink taste especially good?” The laugh that I loved to hear blended beautifully with the song. I was content being here, even if she had spit in my drink as payback for scaring her. For now, life is good, exceptionally so with Janis by my side. 

#the dirt (2019) #the dirt fanfiction #Motley Crue #douglas booth!nikki sixx

[ampleappleamble]

oh god every spare minute is spent writing or daydreaming about writing or re-reading my own writing, why am i like this, why do i like it

ALSO! thank you all, as always, for your kind words! ao3 soon i prombise <3

Chapter 4: Watcher

Aloth sat alone at a small table in the corner of the tavern, silently counting out rigid increments of time, one after another after another. It had been 26 minutes, 45 seconds since she'd gone upstairs to his room. Their room.

This was a mistake.

"Ye dinnae conne tha' yet, lad."

He scowled into his goblet of wine. "Do not tell me what I do and don't know, rube," he hissed.

He made sure to keep his head down, face lowered behind the pages of his grimoire. Lest this evening's incident repeat itself. Although, he doubted any more trouble now after his and Axa's entrance almost an hour ago.

The foreigner gets frog-marched out of the tavern by three soused churls, only to return scarcely fifteen minutes later with another foreigner, who then proceeds to order two bottles of wine and nothing else...

"I stell whisht ye'd 'ave lemme batter 'em."

Aloth rolled his eyes, lifting his goblet to his mouth. "Your preference has been duly noted," he deadpanned softly as he took a sip.

28 minutes and 50 seconds. They had agreed on 30.

...Maybe. Maybe this was a mistake.

---

She was alone.

She looked around slowly at her new surroundings. Someone else's room at a run-down country inn.

Better than a dirty wooden floor in the common room at a run-down country inn.

Alone. She hadn't really been alone, truly alone alone since--

--the Land, before he--

Axa strolled a bit too quickly across the room, threw herself into a sitting position at the foot of the enormous, lumpy bed. Her hands trembled. She willed them to stop.

Let's think about something else. Right now.

30 minutes. She had 30 minutes alone, and then her new traveling companion would rejoin her. They had managed to get a good rapport going once she had been able to sit and relax a bit in the tavern, and they'd shared their histories with one another, although they had kept it cordially laconic. She was a “disgraced scholar looking for a fresh start,” he was a “wizard from a noble family looking for a patron.” Good enough for me.

He surprised her by proposing they travel together, citing that he found traveling with companions tended to be safer by far, especially in the Dyrwood, and she had already proven herself resourceful and courteous. Axa surprised herself by accepting his proposal.

--another lying, flattering elven man? you foolish--

He had graciously suggested they share his rented room upstairs that night ("Meaning nothing untoward, of course," he'd added hastily, ears reddening) and had agreed to give her some time to herself before settling in for the night. The next morning, they would most likely start seriously planning to make for Defiance Bay, to look for lodging, paying work, and some sort of expert on souls. Camping supplies, food, water-- all would be necessary for the trip, so doing some odd jobs in the village before setting out might not be a bad idea. Earn some coin, get to know the area, the customs.

Tell Calisca's sister about her death.

Axa paused.

She yanked her boots off of her aching feet and hurled them across the room as hard as she could in a flash of rage. The first tears hadn't fallen yet, but they were on their way.

...Ah. This part. Finally.

She rose to her feet unsteadily, pulling at her clothes. She didn’t have time for this crying shit, she had to get undressed, cleaned up, ready for bed. She was shaking too hard to get her belt undone or her scarf untangled, but she struggled with them until they were at least loose enough to pull her tunic up and off.

No. Go on. Let it happen. You need to feel this. You need to process it.

She clutched at her face, trembling harder, digging her fingernails into her flesh. Now the tears fell, hot and relentless, pouring down her burning cheeks.

Hey. You held on as long as you were able. Maintained yourself, your dignity and your sanity. But this was bound to happen eventually. You can let go.

She collapsed to the floor in her stocking feet and linen shift, curling up on her knees and elbows. Agonized wails tore out of her throat; great, heaving sobs that choked her, left her breathless and red-faced.

No one can hear you down there in the tavern, no one is judging you. Only the gods, and they don't count.

You're all alone, Axa.

She felt it.

---

32 minutes, 45 seconds.

Aloth clutched his empty goblet in his hand, knuckles white with tension. They had agreed on 30 minutes.

Maybe just... make it an even 35. Just in case.

"By th' Wheel, lad, quit yer ninnyin' an' gerrup them stairs. Am shattered."

The elf fidgeted in his seat, lowering his gaze to his lap. "I will, I will. I just... I'm not quite ready yet." He had been stalling, and he knew it.

"An' fer why I should haftae wait fer mah kip? 'Cos yer afeart o' th' wee lass?"

He gritted his teeth, grateful that only his half of the conversation was being spoken aloud this time. "I am not afraid of her," he whispered, slowly turning a page in his grimoire. 33 minutes, 50 seconds. "I just want to make absolutely certain that when I go up there, I'll have given her ample time to finish up any... personal rituals she might have wanted to attend to in solitude. It's common courtesy. Not that you'd know anything about that." He allowed himself a little smile at that, preparing to start to carefully and deliberately ease his grimoire closed. 34 minutes, 5 seconds. He could hold out for 35 even. Easily. He rose smoothly from the table, gliding out of his seat with practiced grace.

A harsh, braying cackle of a laugh. "If'n I conne ye true, lad, yer jes' sayin' yer afeart ye'll burst in oan 'er wi' 'er baps oot if'n ye're up too soon, aye?"

Aloth's fingers spasmed, and his heavy grimoire slipped from his hands, landing on the floor with a resounding thump that echoed in the half-empty tavern.

Every single remaining patron was looking at him.

He'd lost track of the time.

---

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh no.

Axa kneeled on the bed, brushing the red hot embers from the thick woolen blankets with her bare hands. She had somehow spilled her pipe while lighting it, and now it seemed she had this situation to deal with.

How had it come to this? She tried to remember. She'd had her cry. She'd laid on the floor for... a bit. She'd gotten up and washed her face and hands. She'd had her drink. Well, her second drink. The first one had been downstairs, with that elf. The weird one. Aloth. That was his name. She liked him. ...No! She'd tied up her hair. Then the second drink, the one she had up here, then the third, then probably one or two more. She couldn't really remember. But anyway. Once she'd had her drinks, it was time for her smoke, and--

...Smoke. The pipe? The blanket-- SMOKE!!!!

Axa discovered, to her dismay, that brushing the exact same spot on the blankets over and over while reminiscing about the events of the past half hour did not solve her problem in its entirety. The other clumps of smouldering whiteleaf strewn across the bed were quickly leaving hideous scars all over the already badly abused blankets, and she rushed to slap them out, wishing that she had tied back all of her hair and not just half of it for some reason.

Once she was sure she had gotten it all, she packed her pipe again-- carefully this time-- and stood in the middle of the room, smoking and assessing the damage.

Honestly... he might not even notice.

There was a knock at the door. She pretended not to hear it, smiling blithely at the rug.

"Axa? Forgive my tardiness, the time got away from me and-- and I, uh--"

Aloth swung the door open slowly and gently. He was met with a view of the little orlan woman standing in the middle of his room in her chemise, clearly drunk, clutching a lit pipe and regarding the brand new, still-smoking holes in the blanket on his bed.

She looked at the blanket, looked at him, eyes wide and bloodshot-- and exhaled a plume of smoke directly into Aloth's face.

He blinked rapidly.

"...Fit like, lass?"

---

He arranged some blankets and cushions for himself on the floor, even though she practically begged him to at least take the bed by way of a proper apology. He insisted, and she acquiesced, although not before expressly forbidding him from using the blanket she'd burned.

He lied when she asked if he minded her smoking, and she could tell he was lying, but she smoked until her pipe was burnt out anyway. It had been a hard night, and something told her sleep would not come easily.

"You always talk shit to people like that?" she asked, peering at his prone figure in the dark room. "In Hylspeak, I mean."

Aloth sighed, fidgeted in his bedding. "It's an old habit. From childhood."

"I see." Axa yawned and stretched, and he could hear her joints popping. "You might try to knock that on the head, friend. Or at least learn to insult yokels in a language they don't sort of understand."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Excellent suggestion. Any recommendations? I hear Rauataian is popular these days."

She grinned to herself in the dark. Still can't get a straight answer out of you about all that, eh? Good thing I'm too addled to care right now. "I could teach you Ixamitl. Little bit of Vailian."

"As long as you're a willing teacher, I'm a willing student."

"As long as we steer clear of Ordhjóma, I'm a willing teacher." Gods, she was drunk, telling him that.

He wanted to ask, but knew better. "Fair enough."

The pair fell silent, and they fell asleep.

---

Axa had expected a difficult night ahead of her. After all, she'd had a difficult day.

Exhaustion, wine, and whiteleaf put her body and waking mind to sleep easily enough, as they tended to do. But her subconscious mind was restless and turbulent, thoughts and memories and half-dreams all swirling together in a maelstrom of emotion, fear foremost among them.

Whispers. Shadows.

It was all... familiar, somehow. The more she looked, the more she saw, and the more she saw, the more she remembered.

The pillars. The machine.

Had she... been here before?

No. That wasn't possible. She'd only ever been to Ixamitl and the Land before this. She had never been to the Dyrwood, never--

--from Creitum, my dear?--

Axa thrashed violently in her bed. Sweat matted her fine, golden-bronze fur and her breath came in shuddering gasps. Her eyes snapped open--

--and she was standing in front of that tree again, the one in the middle of town. The corpse tree.

The corpses were all wrong. She knew for a fact that the blond fellow who'd smiled at her as she'd started off toward the inn earlier that day hadn't been hanging from it last she looked. But he was hanging there now, still smiling his lopsided smile, still clutching his pipe.

"Welcome to our lovely town." He said it, but he didn't. She didn't hear his voice, and his face didn't move. But she heard him, in her mind, somehow.

Is-- is this what ciphers-- oh, Wael's eyes, am I a cipher now or something?

Axa had no time to dwell on the thought as the monstrous tree slowly began to move, twisting around and down toward her, brilliant violet flames flickering to life all over its gore-caked branches. It loomed above her, below her, all around her, blocking out all light except for the sickly purple glow of the souls hanging from it like overripe fruit.

And front and center, mere feet from Axa's own face, hung the dwarf woman. The animancer that horrible magistrate had so crassly introduced as "an example of what happens to those who lie to our Lord."

Axa could only stare in abject terror as the woman's corpse noticed her.

It lifted its head, wrinkled and deflated like a gourd gone rotten, and stretched out its swollen, distended neck, pushing its maggot-ridden face to within inches of Axa's own. The head tilted to one side and blinked its empty eye sockets, and if she hadn't been on the very bleeding edge of a complete nervous breakdown, Axa might have noticed it smile gently.

The corpse's mouth opened wide before Axa's quivering eyes, blasting her with a wave of rotting stench that threatened to overwhelm the little woman entirely. She didn't know how much more of this she could bear, but at the same time, she couldn't look away. This was, she somehow instinctively knew, far too important a message to look away from.

The dwarf's corpse, like the blond man's, spoke directly to Axa's mind. But it spoke aloud at the same time, evidently to ensure that her message made it through any and all defenses the orlan woman could offer up, whether mental or physical. The corpse's rancid breath, its voice like a dull blade drawn across a gravestone, her essence, all issued forth to assault and cradle and engulf Axa, all focused on the conveyance of one word:

"WATCHER."

---

Her eyes snapped open for real, this time.

A multitude of glowing purple figures stood over her, watching her as she lay in her bed.

She screamed, a shrill, panicked howl of pure terror. She flailed desperately to escape, and ended up landing painfully on the floor face-first before scrabbling madly for the corner.

Aloth was up in an instant, groping for his grimoire, clambering to his feet in a panic. "What's-- Axa?" The elf stumbled toward the cowering woman in the muddled pre-dawn light, reaching toward her with an open hand. "Axa? Are you alright? What's going on, did--"

She shrieked, throwing her arms up in front of her, shielding herself from him, from them, pushing herself against the wall with her trembling legs. "DON'T!! DON'T TOUCH ME!!"

Aloth did not. Instead, he froze-- then very slowly drew back, clutching his grimoire in front of his chest with both hands, trying to ignore the little woman as she shook and sobbed, face hidden in her hands.

I... shouldn't be seeing this. This isn’t right. I shouldn't be here. This is something private, and I'm intruding, and... He sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor, his ears drooping.

...This was a mistake. I should... I should tell her I can't--

"I want to go to that tree again."

Aloth snapped his attention back to Axa. She was still in the corner, sitting with her knees drawn to her chest, but her face peered out from beneath her curtain of crimson hair.

The apparitions were gone. "I want to see her. The dwarf in the tree. I have to see her."

Her amethyst eyes fixed themselves on his.

"Will you go with me?" Tears trembled on her eyelashes, but her voice was steady and strong.

"...Certainly," he replied softly.

---

#pillars of eternity #fanfic #fanfiction #watcher #watcher axa #aloth

[septiembrre]

author meme

Tagged by - @foxmagpie & @mego42

Tagging - I think most folks have gotten tagged, but friends feel free to do it!

ao3 name: septiembre

fandoms: that I write for? only good girls

number of fics: haha, I was avoiding answering this ask meme because I’m not very prolific. So far, I’m at 3 one-shots, a handful of drabbles, and one growing multi-chapter monster. 

fic I spent the most time on: definitely Get to Be Mine. It’s my only multi-chapter but I will be working on it for a while. 

fic I spent the least amount of time on: Heavenly Hot Tubs. This was my second fic and it was so easy to write. But, now I kind of want to rewrite it and make it sexier :’D 

most hits: Get to Be Mine has finally eclipsed the sexy hot tub fic by 4 clicks. 

most kudos, comments & bookmarks: Get to Be Mine. 

highest total word count: definitely Get To Be Mine... 

favourite fic I wrote: 

I love them all for their own specific reasons. They were all things I was really jazzed to write. Get To Be Mine is definitely my darling right now. 

However, I also really enjoyed writing Riendo Juntos, and the one shot about Rio & Beth hanging out a safe house and cleaning, and the one shot about Beth waking up in the middle of the night to bake bread. 

fic I want to rewrite/expand on: Haha, I’m at peace with all of the fics. I like reading my old stuff, with ideas of where I could have expanded them. Instead of feeling embarrassed, I feel proud that my writing has evolved and overall become something easier. 

That being said, I do have a hankering to re-write the smut in the hot tub fic and make it longer~ with more sensory details. But, I won’t! 

share a bit of a wip or story idea you’re working on: Damn, y’all I’m barely on chapter three of my fake dating fic. This thing is going to dominate my free time for the next several months (lol, whaaaat?). So I’ve been putting my head down and trying to concentrate on that. 

I’m in the process of editing a scene between Annie+Beth+Ruby and it has been soooooo much fun. I got into writing GG fanfiction exclusively for Brio and had felt really tentative about branching out into other characters, and writing Ruby and Annie’s voices (ESPECIALLY Annie’s. It really doesn’t come naturally to me).  

This is rough but, here’s a segment from what I wrote yesterday:

Annie snaps her fingers. “What about that purple dress? The one you wore for Kenny’s birthday party two years ago. Do you still have it?”

In fact, it had recently returned to Beth with the rest of her clothes that Rio had stollen. She had always felt good wearing it and it was one of the few surviving articles from the purge of things related to her marriage.

Ruby’s gaze darts sideways to Annie. “I cannot believe you are suggesting that dress. He took one look at her and I wasn’t sure what he was going to do to her inside that bedroom.”

“Oh, we knew what he wanted to do.” Annie says, her voice loaded with innuendo. She turns to Beth. “Wear that. You’ll feel great and he’ll love it.”  

Ruby steeples her fingers. “I don’t think we want to antagonize him any further, Annie.”

"And that was two years ago.” Beth adds. “Before all the rest of it. We don’t even know if he’s ever, y’know…” Her mouth opens making what she’s sure are ridiculous configurations with her lips as she flounders, “ --liked me.”

Annie’s jaw hangs open for a moment. Then she pulls it together and addresses Ruby first, “Okay, I care about my sister, so stop trying to guilt me. Maybe what they need is to finally fuck again and get over whatever this is.” Ruby raises her eyebrows, considering Annie’s point but with plenty of hesitation, as Beth splutters indignantly again.

Annie turns to her sister. “And Beth, I know homeboy has been super shady about his feelings but he has them.” Beth shakes her head, but Annie nods adamantly back at her. “They are in there somewhere because bizarrely, we are all still alive.”

She pauses to knock on the wooden surface of the worktable, and murmurs a quick, Rest in peace, Lucy. Ruby crosses herself. For a second, Beth’s stomach plummets, and fuzzy words for the Mourner’s Kaddish tug at the periphery of her thoughts. She curls her fingers around of the edge of the table to steady herself, and then, she processes what Annie said. Somehow despite the grief and all of the terrible things, it feeds the kernel of warmth inside of her.

“Is he the ideal romantic prospect? Nope. And no matter how this fake-dating situation goes, you are not allowed to become his wife-in-crime or whatever. But, maybe you guys can go through the motions—” She thrusts a little with her hips, rocking on the stool. “Bone, y’know, maybe. And then we can all move on and you can start dating for real.”

I think I got nervous about writing scenes with more than two people? That fear eclipsed everything and it made me forget that I LOVE WRITING SCENES BETWEEN FRIENDS -- especially between women. Oh my god. And they all have different ethics and funny bones -- it’s so great. Now the scene has spiraled a bit -- it’s 5k and I need to chill. 

Because of Get to Be Mine, I also keep daydreaming about all these other Brio fake dating situations. For some reason I keep wondering if it would be a good idea to create an ongoing side drabble series with additional/discarded fake dating premises? Honestly, I need to calm down with the fake dating trope (but, it’s so pleasant for my brain right now). 

The one I have in mind right now is a post Season 3 Beth+Rio+Dean scene where Beth and Rio watch as Dean make a mess of a customer/vendor interaction at Boland Bubbles. Beth steps in to intervene and while Rio watches. Rio ends up joining in the conversation, and the assumption is made that Beth/Rio are a couple, in front of Dean. Rio starts playing into it. Hahaha, this is my angstier, smuttier fake dating happy place right now. 

[ofcloudsandstars]

Celestial Forecast

Week 2-8

Sike! I am still going!! Take that PSD !

The aspects this week are really forcing us to look into our hearts. There is a handful of aspects being triggered by Venus and Uranus that will ask us to heal and bring positive change (along with some lunar transits triggering Ceres that will look at where we need to be nurtured) and this last leg of Mercury's retrograde leading up to the full moon at the end of the week will bring us to find out what we need to love and forgive in ourselves before we can absorb the retrograde lesson and move on.

Notes: this is london based so weeks are from Monday-Sunday and the time is set to UTC. 

2nd

🌓 First Quarter Moon in Gemini    ☽ Moon in Gemini trines Ceres in Aquarius ☽ Moon in Gemini Sextiles Chiron in Aries ☽ Moon in Gemini will Square Eros, the Sun and Neptune in Pisces

Energy: Today will feel vulnerable yet healing. With the moon waxing in Gemini it's a great day to open your mind and take in new information yet with mercury, the ruler of learning and the mind currently asleep this energy will feel inverted at best and could be used to learn about yourself and hidden emotional baggage that you may be clinging onto. With the moon making a harmonious sextile to Chiron and a powerful trine to Ceres, our deep wounds (and other wounds) will float to the surface yet we will have the opportunity to nurture ourselves and work through it. With Ceres in Aquarius the key will be to nurture ourselves by honoring our individuality and forgiving ourselves as well as accepting our uniqueness. With the square the moon will be consecutively forming with Eros, the Sun and Neptune throughout the day, these bruised points could potentially manifest in areas of sexual frustration, repressed anger or deceptions revealed. Especially with the sun square, these negative traits could be brought to light. It's a good day to do shadow work (I know I say that often but it's the retrograde along with these transits man..) and protect yourself from other's negative energy. Alternatively if you have had a foe that's been bothering you and pestering you for ages but unable to make others see that they are a gremlin all along, this is a good day to do a truth-revealed spell to expose their ass to everyone. The retrograde and these transits are about revealing secrets and ugly truths/emotions so if they are trying to be shady to you behind the scenes then you can expose the shade.  

Recommendations: self healing, meditation, shadow work, tarot reading, divination, truth revealed spell, self love magic

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3rd

Venus in Aries squares Saturn in Capricorn

☽ Moon in Gemini trines Juno rx Libra ☽ Moon in Gemini sextiles Venus in Aries ☽ VOC 2:19PM-4:25PM (until next day)

Energy: Today will feel extra fucking tender as Venus will make an uncomfortable square with Saturn in Capricorn which will make us feel a bit lonely and in need of a hug. Though this energy might manifest in people feeling isolated the tension of this aspect may push others to want to build a long lasting relationship with loved ones whether that may be friendship, romance or any other meaningful bond. To add to this the lovely emotional moon's transits will make a trine with Juno retrograding in Libra (classic) and a sextile with Venus in Aries. These two aspects will make it a little easier to reach out to others to let them know you would like a little bit of love and support today and most likely someone you care about may reach out to you first. It's easy with these transits to want to isolate yourself especially with mercury's retrograde but if you do practice some self love magic and working on your heart energy. Do not do any love attraction magic if you feel compelled to. The moon will be void of course for most of the evening so it's a time to rest and reflect. Instead take care of yourself or reach out to loved ones.

Recommendations: self love magic, preparing drinks with intention such as hot chocolate, hawthorn tea, matcha tea (these are all heart-opening), self-love bath magic, napping it off (why not?)

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4th

Mercury Retrograde Re-enters Aquarius Mercury in Aquarius sextiles Venus in Aries

☽ Moon enters Cancer (4:25PM) ☽ Moon trines Eros in Pisces ☽ Moon sextiles Uranus in Taurus ☽ Moon opposite Saturn and Pluto in Capricorn ☽ Moon squares Chiron in Aries

Energy:

Mercury will re-enter Aquarius today. Aquarius tends to be more detached from the emotional details and can see the bigger picture which this phase of the retrograde may ask you to do. This segment you may find the tides of the universe are seeking for you to rise above your individual problems to see the grander scale and change your perspective. This re-entry will make mercury sextile Venus in Aries which will make you re-evalue the harmony within your relationships and how you express love and affection. This may be an awkward day to try to charm someone or express affection depending on how the retrograde may affect you (unless you are 100% honest and unfiltered about your feelings but even that could backfire).

With the moon in the most EMOTIONAL sign, (cancer), the lunar transits will add another perspective to our emotions as we may evaluate our relationships. It will trine Eros making our passions and desires clear (though we may lack the fire to act on them), it will square chiron making our previous traumas bubble to the surface and it will be opposite Saturn and Pluto in Capricorn which will only add additional feelings of loneliness, isolation, unearthed intense repressed emotions from the netherrealms of our deepest subconsciousness and a possible spike in PSD (pisces seasonal depression). On a positive note, the moon will also sextile Uranus in Taurus starting off this chapter of mercury's re-entry into Aquarius with some positive surprises or chance encounters that could help shake things up in a good way. This sextile helps break patterns and starts something new so this energy could be used wisely to evaluate what is no longer serving you mentally or emotionally and starting off on a positive foot!

Recommendations: journaling, resting, divination for shadow work, healthily crying

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5th

Venus enters Taurus ☽ Moon in Cancer trines Sun and Neptune in Pisces ☽ Moon sextiles Sedna in Taurus ☽ Moon opposite Mars and Jupiter in Capricorn

Energy: Today will feel like an oasis in the many days of romantic strife. The transits have not been kind to our hearts with Juno in retrograde, and Venus in Aries ridiculous aspects, but now Venus is taking a chill pill and returning to one of it's home signs Taurus. There's a reason why Taurus Season starts on 4/20 because it's the most sensual, relaxed,  chill, luxurious, lush sign there is and we will feel the effects of Venus in Taurus with wanting to just enjoy life and appreciate the good things in it a little bit more.

Additionally the lunar transits are pretty nice too. The moon in cancer will trine the Sun and Neptune in Pisces making the day extra dreamy and creative and easy going. The moon will eventually make a sextile with Sedna in Taurus adding to our desires to be creative and in some cases may manifest in appreciating life and nature. The moon will also form an opposition with Mars and Jupiter in Capricorn which could either manifest a drive to put our feelings into action or expand on them or if we choose to not use the energy it could manifest in other ways such as sudden bursts of energy which could be either good or bad. With oppositions it's best to try to make the opposite energies harmonize otherwise the imbalance can cause unexpected bursts in areas we weren't ready to handle.

Recommendations: creating art, art magic, dance magic, kitchen witchery, self love magic, meditation, dream oracling, nature walk, creating something, tapping into heart energy.

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6th

☽ VOC 7:11AM - 9:27AM ☽ Moon enters Leo ☽ Moon in Leo trines Chiron in Aries ☽ Moon opposite Mercury rx in Aquarius ☽ Moon squares Venus and Uranus in Taurus

Energy: Today will be a day for drama as the Moon enters Leo and makes all sorts of spicy aspects with the planets. With the moon in Leo the energy can create a positive outlet for our emotions to be channeled through our creativity yet on the flipside the energy can also let explosive emotional episodes burst out dramatically. The moon will be teaming up with Chiron in Aries in a trine which can help us explore our deep issues and bring about healing. However when it comes to communicating there might be some challenges with the moon opposing mercury retrograding in Aquarius. It may be best for us to work on ourselves solitarily or channel it into a personal creative project instead of trying to express it or project it outwards when there is a lot of room for miscommunication. Finally the moon in leo will square Venus and then Uranus in Taurus which will add the flavors of drama, surprise, new encounters, emotional outbursts from others, emotional neediness, rebelliousness and in some cases infidelity. Take caution as this is not a day to over indulge by impulse spending or lash out in response to outbursts. Though the squares may make some tensions with the Moon in it's dramatic placement, the lunar transits are only a few hours long so the air will clear and a settled state will return quickly.

Recommendations: Protection magic, invisibility glamours (if you want to avoid drama), Hexes!! Or- channeling energy through creative outlets.

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7th

☽ Moon in Leo sextiles Juno rx Libra ☽ Moon opposite Ceres in Aquarius

Energy: With the moon continuing it's transit through Leo, it's now met with a sextile from Juno in retrograde and eventually an opposition with Ceres in Aquarius. Leo also being a sign also of romance and the inner child could bring out those emotional qualities to the surface today with our lunar transits as they get affected by Juno and Ceres. The Juno retrograde sextile could stir up deep feelings of wanting to connect with your ideal love, wanting to receive your ideal love or wanting to find something to devote your love and creativity to. The retrograde can help with great introspection yet if you feel any frustrations then tarot can help you to show where you need to work on to manifest it in your life. With the moon in creative Leo opposing Ceres in eclectic Aquarius, it may bring up potential for us to find nurturing in expressing our individuality through creative projects or alternatively it could potentially bring up some negativity regarding feeling alone and unnurtured as well. If you happen to fall on the negative side of the vibe you can honor yourself by doing the things you always love the most or trying a new outlet to express yourself. It's ok to feel down from time to time and lunar aspects (especially with smaller planets/asteroids) are brief so this may not affect you so much but if it does use the Leo moon to fuel it into self expression!

Recommendations: Art magic, self love, love divination, love spells

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8th

Venus conjunct Uranus in Taurus Sun conjunct Neptune in Pisces ☽ Moon in Leo squares Sedna in Taurus ☽ VOC 8:12AM-11:47AM ☽ Moon in Virgo (full moon phase begins) ☽ Moon in Virgo trines Venus and Uranus in Taurus

Energy: It's not yet the full moon yet we are inching there, and the energy will feel heightened now!! The full moon phase will begin and will start off with a powerful conjunct with Venus and Uranus in Taurus along with the Sun and Neptune in Pisces creating a powerful dreamy vibe of romantic surprises and new positive sensual developments. The moon in Virgo will trine Venus and Uranus in Taurus as well making all three planetary energies work in unison to create a powerful energy of love, tenderness, harmony, excitement, positive surprises, new positive changes, chance encounters, thrills, breaking habits, powerful magic and romance. The Virgo full moon (opposing Sun in Pisces) is a moon that reminds us that our dreams are in reach if we follow through the steps to get there. Along with the aspects between the sun and neptune along with venus and uranus today is a FANTASTIC day for romance spells for new love AND MONEY SPELLS especially to win money or earn it suddenly in a positive way (that's not the universe just scheduling you for another week of back-to-back double shifts). If you are a creative this is a great day to pour energy into your work cause you will find breakthroughs. If you are keen for an adventure, today is fantastic to take a trip on. If you want to hook up or find romance today is also an amazing day to do magic for it. If you always felt shy about playing the lottery or doing a scratch card just give it a shot today, it's the full moon!! Your dreams are in reach. The other planets are like cheerleaders for virgo's full moon. Go for it. Yolo

Recommendations: Money Magic (focus on winning money), love magic, sex magic, manifesting dreams into reality, vision boards, job finding spells, road opening magic (road opening means unblocking energy or creating new opportunities to come your way whether that means for jobs, money, creativity etc).

#witchblr #astrology #moon phases #magic #transits #celestial #forecast

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 7: Behind The Scenes

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which movies and actors aren’t what they appear to be.

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Word count: 4.3k

Chapter 6: Teenagers In Love - Harry finds the perfect location for their official date.

Wattpad link

ANNOUNCEMENT: After this chapter, I’ll take a three-week break (this is why). I’ll still post blurbs and come back with chapter 8 preview on Thursday, August 15. Thank you so much for giving me your time and patience. I love you all.

A/N: the song Harry sings in this is Yellow by Coldplay :)

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Isaac and Ruby had never been friends. They'd met through Harry and had hung out a couple of times in a big group, but that was it. After all, she'd made his best friend go through hell and back for months and was one of the reasons he and Y/N had got sucked into the same mess. There was no way he would even consider forgiving her, let alone do her a favor. But here she was, standing right outside his door and asking him to hear her out.

"It's important," she said, but of course, he was smart enough to not be fooled.

"I'm not gonna talk to Harry for you, Ruby, go home."

Quickly, she jammed her foot in the doorway to stop him from locking her out. "Do you know he's been snooping around with your girlfriend? That little girl, Y/N. I saw them kissing in her car this morning."

Isaac rolled his eyes and exhaled as he placed one hand on his hip, the other was still holding the door. "Y/N and I broke up, she can see whoever she wants," he said with a straight face. "Thank you for coming all the way here to tell me that, but I think you're wasting both of our time."

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Excuse me?"

The woman scoffed as she crossed her arms. "Aren't you upset that she got with your best friend the minute you two broke up?"

The question made Isaac chuckle. "Who are you to tell me how I should feel?" He stated, his brows furrowed as he squinted his eyes. "These are my relationships and my friends, it's none of your business. So go home, Ruby. I've had a tiring day and the last thing I need is for you to make it worse."

"Are you listening to yourself?" Ruby cried out, not about to give up. "You and Harry, both of you, might have been fooled by that little girl, but I know what she is. She's a gold-digger! Because why else would she get back in touch with him after all those years? Where was she when he was a poor student struggling with four part-time jobs, huh?"

"She was home, waiting for him to come back!"

Ruby's mouth snapped shut. Fear crossed her face as he went on to snarl at her, "if you didn't have to wait seven years to finally be with the one you've loved since you were nine, then you have no right to act like you loved him the most. For all I know, you're the little girl here, Ruby."

"Wait—"

"Now leave, before I call the police and put your reputation on the line."

Just like that, he slammed the door right in her face.

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"Say something, please..." Y/N heaved a sigh, one hand gripping the phone, the other was clawing at her leg. She knew this wasn't a good way to deliver big news, but the internet connection didn't allow her to video call Celine. The longer she put off this conversation, the more nervous she would become, and the last thing she wanted was for her best friend to find out about this from anyone that wasn't her.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything," she breathed. "Tell me I'm wrong, that I'm making a big mistake."

"I don't know that for sure."

"Then why are you angry?!"

"I'm not," Celine replied with such a calm voice that Y/N thought she was being sarcastic. However, the next thing she said was far from Y/N's expectations. "If you believe that he loves you, then so do I. I don't know Harry or your relationship as much as you do, so I respect whatever choice you already made."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

When Celine giggled, Y/N felt truly relieved. "Thank you, my love." She sighed happily. "I guarantee that this time won't be like the last."

"Good, you two better not fuck this up, at least not before my wedding."

Shit.

"You're taking him to my wedding, right?"

"Are...are you and Amala okay with that?" Y/N chuckled to hide the subtle discomfort in her voice. "I mean...you said friends and family only and Harry's not—"

"Of course we're okay with that! Amala is excited to meet him and that's not even sarcasm. She's always been a fan of his movies!" Celine sounded so thrilled that Y/N could only laugh it off. Now she felt lucky that they weren't on a video call, because she wouldn't have been able to hide her true feelings. Honestly, she didn't want to ask Harry to be her wedding date.

One, he was busy with his new movie; two, they were supposed to keep their relationship in the dark, so them showing up hand-in-hand at a wedding would be a suicide pact. But how could she turn down the invitation without making it seem like Harry was too 'big and famous' for her best friends' wedding? She needed them to support her relationship with him, and that couldn't happen if they both hated him.

"Baby, I'm home!" The voice interrupted her busy thoughts. She heard the front door open and shut and Harry walked into her bedroom, wearing the biggest grin on his face.

"Aww, is he there?" Celine asked but Y/N was already distracted by Harry joining her on the bed and tickling her neck with his soft lips.

"Uhm...Look, I gotta go now." She cleared her throat and mouthed 'no' to Harry when his hand snuck underneath her shirt to tease her nipple. "Call you later, Cece..."

"Wait, give the phone to him."

"What?" Y/N seized Harry's wrist, frozen at once.

"I need to talk to him."

Harry chuckled when he saw the look on her face. "What is it?" He asked, giving her a smile. "She asks about me?"

"She wants to talk to you."

"To me?"

Nodding, she handed him the phone. Both of them knew how Celine felt about them being together. Despite what she'd just said, Y/N believed a big part of her was still unsure, but Celine was such a good friend that she didn't want to interfere with Y/N's happiness. So it would be an understatement to say Y/N was nervous when Harry answered the phone, her heart was actually fighting to break free from her chest.

"Little Cece! I haven't seen you in so long," he spoke with an overly enthusiastic voice that made Y/N facepalm herself. Peeking through the gap of her two fingers, she tried to read his reaction, wishing she could hear what they were talking about while praying that Celine wouldn't be too hard on him.

"Yeah...oh, okay. Definitely...Yeah, you too, Cece. Have a good day. Congratulations on the engagement."

And that was it. He hung up faster than expected.

"So?" Y/N got up on her knees, gripping his shoulders in concern. But he was quick to put her phone back on the bedside table and flip her over to pin her down on the bed. She almost scolded at him for manhandling her like that, but when he left butterfly kisses down her neck, she could barely maintain her self-control.

"She told me if I broke your heart again, she would kick me in the crotch like she did when we were little," he said between kisses, smiling into her skin.

"To be fair, you broke her favorite doll, and tried to glue its neck back hoping she wouldn't find out. And she did!" Y/N shook with laughter as she held his face and turned it up so their eyes met. "I thought little Harry also broke that day."

"Oh, really?" He raised an eyebrow, moving upward so his face was right above hers and his elbows were resting beside her head on the mattress. "You were pretty vocal about how 'not little' it was so I don't think it's broken."

"Gosh, you're fucking dirty."

"And you love it when I am." His dimples appeared when she burst out laughing and pushed him right off. Harry, now lying on his back, gave Y/N a smirk as he spread both arms, so she quickly snuggled down by his side, her head resting on his chest.

"How was your day?" She asked, looking up at him as her lashes fluttered.

"It was great actually." He breathed happily and combed his fingers through his hair. "I got to do this very funny scene where..."

As he rambled on about that one scene he thought was hilarious, she found herself completely smitten. She loved it when he was in a good mood which was always contagious and now she felt elated simply because he was. Maybe this was an appropriate time to ask him to be her wedding date, since Celine apparently hadn't said anything to him yet. However, when it was finally her turn to speak, she blurted out, "I...uhm...saw Ruby this morning."

His entire body tensed up when she mentioned that name, but before she could continue with the story, he cut her off to ask if she was okay. "She didn't talk to you, did she?" He seemed frantic. "Or did she say something mean to you? Because I'll—"

"No, we didn't talk." Y/N giggled, shaking her head fast. "I saw her enter the building after you. She seemed upset, but I guessed she was only having a bad morning. Did she say something to you?"

"No." He cracked a smile. "We didn't talk either, well, only for our scenes together, because we had to."

"Did you...kiss her?" That question was barely above a whisper, but Harry heard it loud and clear. He found her bashfulness amusing and endearing at the same time, especially when she had that pouty look on her face that reminded him of when she was little.

"No." He shook his head and ran his thumb across her bottom lip. "I didn't kiss anyone today except for my baby."

Y/N snorted at the cheeky response. Her eyelids drooped as she grasped the hand on her face and intertwined their fingers to give his knuckles a kiss.

"But there's at least one kissing scene, right?" She went on, not breaking their eye contact.

The girl had thought twice before asking another question as she didn't want to sound possessive. Maybe she was a bit jealous. How could she not? He was the male lead in a romantic film, in which his ex-lover played his love interest. She had all the right reasons to be jealous. But honestly, she was more curious, as this was all new to her. It'd been three years since her first and only long-term relationship, and she was still learning every day.

"It won't mean anything," he reassured her. "It's just a movie kiss, and I've done so many of them I've lost count."

"How's it different from a real one?"

"Technically, it's not. But it doesn't feel the same, if that's what you're asking."

"Sorry if I'm being annoying," she muttered into his chest, her eyes closed but she could tell he was smiling. "I just don't know how to feel about this. I've never...had an actor boyfriend before."

"Boyfriend?"

Y/N's entire body stiffened as she realized what she'd said. Pulling away to sit up straight as he did the same, she batted her lashes and looked at him with her eyes wide and her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Nothing," she denied, but Harry wouldn't let her get away with it. He exhaled through his mouth and cupped her chin with one hand so she couldn't look away.

"You called me your boyfriend?" His soft yet heavy voice turned her face crimson at once.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

She had no idea why she'd apologized, but she was blushing like a teenage girl who'd called her crush her 'boyfriend' by accident, and that couldn't be more embarrassing. Now she could only pray that Harry would change the topic to save them both from this awkwardness. However, he pulled her back in and surprised her with a passionate kiss. Blood rushed right up to her face, and she felt warm all over her body, not only for the way he was holding her, but also because she could feel his heart pounding in sync with her own, and there was something so fulfilling about it that made her stomach clench with anticipation.

Harry pulled back to rest their foreheads together as he teased, "my girlfriend's so cute when she's shy."

That comment caught Y/N off guard. Her body went limp in his arms, and so she kept gawking at him until he couldn't help it anymore. He had to kiss her again.

When they broke apart for the second time, both were breathless and panting. She had to fight the urge of ripping off his clothes because he looked so good right now, with his plump lips wet and slightly parted and his brown hair messily beautiful.

"That was a real kiss," he murmured, grasped her hand and laid it on the left side of his chest, "because this is real. See? Only for you."

She nodded, breathing heavily in response to the way his heart was beating enthusiastically against her palm.

"Remember this, because if you ever see me kiss another girl, it's only for a movie scene and it's not real, okay?"

Y/N answered with a firm nod, pressing her lips into a small smile. She kept silence for a short moment before speaking up again, "I don't think I've ever told you this but...I saw you kiss another girl once."

"In a movie?"

"No." She shook her head. "In our treehouse."

From the way his face scrunched up, she knew he couldn't figure it out on his own, so she had to fill him in on what had happened that night. "When you kissed Kathy in our treehouse, I was there, watching from my backyard."

"Oh, baby..." His eyes squeezed shut as he sighed. "You never told me that."

"It was a long time ago." She gave him a shrug, her mouth twisted. "I was only thirteen, but I guess...I really loved you then. That heartbreak was truly awful."

"That kiss doesn't mean anything to me now," he reassured her while stroking her flushed cheek. "I could barely remember what it was like or what happened that night. With you, it's different."

"You're just trying to make me feel better." She scoffed. "There's no way you can't remember that night. You were...singing to her, playing guitar and stuff."

"Was I?"

She smacked his arm and cackled. "You were, Harry!"

"Okay, I remember it now! Got it!"

As if his reply wasn't vague enough, Harry lied back and patted the other pillow to tell her to do the same. She gave him a funny look but didn't move, so he had no choice but to reach out and grab her.

"What are you—"

"Shhh," he cut her off and flipped them both on their sides so he was now the big spoon. His arm was tightened around her waist as their fingers interlocked. "Be a good girl, I'm gonna sing to you now."

"You're joking, right?" She let out a laugh, feeling his hot breath fanning her ear as he propped his head up with the other arm.

Harry ignored her previous remark and whispered, "any request, m'lady?"

"Hmm." She tapped a finger on her lips, holding back a smile. "What song reminds you of me?"

That question sent Harry back to silence. As he took time to think, she found comfort in the rhythm of his chest rising and falling against her back, soon her body began to relax in his embrace. That was when she heard his voice at her ear, slow and silky as he sang the words of one of their favorite songs, "look at the stars, look how they shine for you, and everything you do, yeah they were all yellow..."

As her eyes fell shut and her lips spread into a smile, Y/N saw the two of them sitting in their treehouse on a hot summer day. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind turned into a soft melody as if adding to the song Harry was strumming on his guitar. He was sixteen, had just learned to play, and she was his number one and only fan. She'd heard this song on the radio the other day, and she loved it so much she'd made him learn the chords to play it just for her. She felt special knowing he had never sung to another girl before. To him, she was indeed special.

"Your skin, oh your skin and bones, turn into something beautiful. You know, you know I love you so. You know I love you so," he sang softly into her ear and paused to press a kiss to her temple.

"I do know that, thank you very much." She giggled.

"You ruined the moment, kid," Harry murmured with a tiny sigh as he dropped his head back down and hugged her close.

She felt his grip around her waist gradually loosen up, so she had to break the silence. "Don't fall asleep."

He shifted a bit as his body shook with laughter. "I'm awake, love. Still need to go take a shower first and make you a cup of tea."

Y/N was taken aback by his response but quickly caught on to what he meant. "I don't need to drink tea before bed anymore." She turned her head to give him a smile. "I haven't had nightmares in a long time."

"Oh..." His face fell in reaction to her answer.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just..." He trailed off, a frown transformed his face. "I just realized...right now I might not know you as well as Isaac does..."

"That's not true." She laughed and poked his cheek where his dimple should be. "You know me better than anyone else."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

His forehead puckered as he stuck out his bottom lip. "I'm gonna love you more than anyone else too."

"Hmm, you're gonna have to compete with a lot of people for that number one spot."

"Don't underestimate me, Bambi," he playfully grumbled, resting his cheek on top of hers. "I might be bad at relationships, but I'm learning, because I love you and I'm never giving up on us again."

"Promise?" She murmured, her eyes slipping closed.

And right before she drifted away, she heard his voice whispering, "promise."

.

.

.

Everything was perfect for the next few days. They were happy.

Of course, they couldn't go on normal dates like any other normal couples, because they were obviously not a normal couple. That was something they had eventually come to terms with at this point. So they would only go out when it was late and only to places where he wasn't easily recognized. When they decided to stay in (which was almost every night), they would have dinner delivered to his or her place and binge-watch Netflix together while they ate. They would have sex, lots and lots of sex, hot and heavy fucking, but also sweet and passionate love-making. Y/N felt like her life was finally turning to a good page. But she was soon reminded that it wasn't, when she came home one afternoon and found an unexpected guest at her front door.

"Hello, Y/N."

Ruby threw on a smile and gave out her hand the second she saw Y/N. But the younger girl only glared at her until she felt awkward enough to slowly withdraw that hand and clutch her handbag instead.

"How do you know where I live?" Y/N finally asked.

"You'd be surprised to find out what I know," said Ruby as she gave the girl a shrug. "Anyway, I'm here because—"

"I know why you're here and I'd prefer that you leave," Y/N grumbled as she pulled out her key and stepped toward the door, but Ruby refused to let her go.

With her arms crossed and nose stuck up, she gave Y/N a once-over before asking without a clear context, "how much?"

"How much what?" Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. "How much time am I willing to waste on talking to you, or how much tolerance I have left before I call the police?"

"How much money do you want?"

"Excuse me?" The girl raised her voice as her eyebrows drew together.

But Ruby seemed unbothered as she fished out her phone from her bag and smiled. "I mean it, just give me a number and I'll make a call. You can have as much money as you want."

"In exchange for what?"

"For Harry."

"You've got to fucking kidding me." Y/N's jaw fell slack as she crossed her arms and laughed wryly. "You have a lot of nerves to stalk me here, and now you're asking to buy my boyfriend from me?!"

"Your boyfriend?" The actress sneered at her but she kept a neutral expression, not wanting to let this woman have the upper hand.

"Don't believe me? Go ask him yourself. Oh wait, he doesn't talk to you anymore, does he?" She smirked as Ruby's face already showed a faint sign of anger. "Go home, please. You're ten years older than me, not ten years old. Stop acting like a spoiled little child."

"I understand why you're full of rage," the blonde went on even though Y/N had pushed her aside to get to the door. "I suppose he's already told you about our sex scenes."

And this time, her words worked. Y/N turned around instantly, her eyes bulging as she had failed to keep her composure. She said nothing as she was careful not to fall into this woman's trap, but like a hungry tigress, Ruby could sense fear from miles away, and now Y/N was just a few steps from her. It was way too obvious.

"You think you've had it all figured it out. But you know nothing because you don't belong in our world."

"This is none of your concern—"

"I care about Harry, as do you," Ruby cut her off, giving her a short, mirthless smile. "So I'm gonna be honest here. This 'relationship', or whatever you call it, is built upon your little fantasy. I mean, who doesn't want to date an actor? But trust me, you won't be able to endure the price that comes along. It certainly won't feel good to watch another woman strip your man naked and touch him in a way that you think only you can. It's easy for Harry and I to tell what is real and what is scripted, but for you? Keep telling yourself it's fake, honey. It doesn't feel that way, does it?"

The irritation was clear in Y/N's expressive eyes, but the actress didn't care as she just kept going, "the worst part, however, is when the whole world finds out about you. With your appearance and this little box you call home, you'll see that I won't be the only one who thinks you're a gold-digger. And who's gonna have to deal with all this pressure directly? It's not you, is it? It's him. He's gonna take all the consequences, and the next you know, his career turns to dust, and that's on you."

Y/N felt sick in her stomach. She couldn't tell whether it was because of Ruby's pretentious demeanor or the words she was saying. All she knew was that she was infuriated. But instead of letting anger take control, she took a deep breath and spoke calmly, "are you gonna walk out of here or am I gonna have to push you down the stairs?"

"Just think about my offer." With a contemptuous smile, Ruby turned her back and then she was gone.

.

.

.

"I cannot believe she came to see you?! Have you told Harold?!"

"Uhm...Niall?"

"Yeah?"

Y/N stole a quick glance at Isaac, who was making tea in Niall's kitchen, before she turned back to Niall and whispered, "why is Isey here?"

"I asked him to come."

"Yeah but...why?"

Niall still didn't get it, so the girl had to explain, "I mean, I don't want him to be a part of this, especially when it's related to Harry and Ruby."

"Don't worry, Smiley. Isey is already involved."

"What?"

"Hey, Isey! Tell her about the other day!" Niall shouted just in time Isaac brought tea and scones to the living room and took a seat next to Niall on the sofa. The Irish singer was quick to grab the first cookie on the plate as soon as Isaac placed it on the table. Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting right in front of them, fidgeting awkwardly.

Isaac could see it, so he looked up and gave her a reassuring smile before he began. "Ruby came to my house a couple of nights ago to tell me about you and H."

"Oh, God..." Y/N pinched her temples, trying not to let her irritation show as she questioned, "what did you say to her?"

"Nothing much. I told her to back off." He shrugged and blew into his tea. "She seemed pretty upset when I asked her to leave and slammed the door."

"You slammed the door in her face? That's my buddy!" Niall laughed and raised his hand for a high-five but Isaac ignored him to go on.

"She's obviously not in a good mental state, but she's all words, she's not gonna do anything to you."

The girl sighed and tucked a strand behind her ears only to wrap both arms around herself again. She was lost in thoughts when she heard Niall ask, "what did she say to you exactly?"

"It doesn't matter." Y/N shook her head, her mouth twitched. She didn't want these two to get more involved, so she decided to keep the details of her conversation with Ruby to herself, for now at least.

"You need to trust Harry, he loves you," Niall reassured her as he reached out for his fourth cookie.

Isaac quickly agreed. "Yeah, I think he's done with her bullshit anyway. Don't think too much about it. Harry's birthday is coming soon, isn't it? That's what we should focus on right now."

Y/N happily nodded and heaved a sigh to shrug off all the negative thoughts, even just for temporary. Harry's birthday was next weekend, and she couldn't let Ruby's words stop her from planning the best birthday party for her boyfriend. After all, this relationship was theirs, and some words from a bitter ex shouldn't affect it in any way.

"You got this, Bambi—Shit, I mean, Smiley!" Niall tossed his head back and groaned as Y/N and Isaac dissolved into laughter.

She had to clear her throat before she spoke, "now, let's discuss Harry's birthday."

#my girl series #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles series

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 25

Yeah, I said mega-long chapter and then realized I should split it and write another Hiccup POV chapter for in between so now there’s this and after this there will be 4 more chapters rather than 2.  I hope this is decent news, because it is news that makes me very tired, but I am close nonetheless.  

Ao3

“Does alcohol technically have an expiration date?”  Tuffnut asks from the top of a rickety step stool as he clears out the top shelf behind the bar.

“Well if these guys are too chicken to try it, I volunteer,” Snotlout takes the plastic bag of while pills out of his pocket, glaring when Astrid snatches it from hands. “Hey!”

She squints at the pills, “didn’t you just take one of these?”

“Yeah, and it still hurts, since I got shot and all—”

“I’m sure your doctor told you how often to take these,” she doesn’t add the obvious addendum of ‘and they definitely didn’t say every half hour’.

“They aren’t from the doctor,” Snotlout takes the generously poured highball glass Tuffnut gives him, “Eretson grabbed them from evidence—”

“So, they are illegal drugs,” Fishlegs grumbles, too overwhelmed to be truly grumpy and Astrid takes the glass from Snotlout’s hand before he can assess its freshness.

“They were illegal before the police confiscated them,” he narrows his eyes at Astrid, “and like Astrid here, Eretson doesn’t want me to have any fun, because he got me the confiscated drugs without fentanyl.”

“Like Eretson, I keep trying to save your life for some reason.  I’ll be right back,” she stands up, glass of scotch in hand, glancing apologetically at Fishlegs as she follows Tuffnut back into the small room behind the bar with a ‘staff only’ sign on the door.  “Come on, Tuff.”

“Astrid!”  Tuffnut whisper yells, planting his hands on her shoulders, “just the woman I was hoping to trade pants with.”

She blinks and looks at the glass in her hand before raising it to her lips and taking two healthy gulps.  It’s smooth and complex and meant to be savored, like the morning she wishes she were having, but she’s at a bar with a pair of idiots and her traumatized boss instead of alone with Hiccup in bed, so she drains the glass quickly like the taste is something to be avoided and wipes her mouth on her sleeve.

Well, Hiccup’s sleeve, from his borrowed jacket, and her heart throbs unevenly, cramped by everything she’s bottling up to function right now.

“What’s the verdict?” Tuffnut narrows his eyes, “that stuff was allegedly thirty-six years old and the bottle was dusty, so I don’t know how much I trust the label.”

“Smooth,” she clears her throat, setting the empty glass down and frowning at Tuff, “what time is it?”

“Nine twenty-six, why?”  He takes one hand off of her shoulder to check his watch.  She almost asks am or pm, but the deserted bar answers that for her.

“Already a long day,” she shakes her head and exhales before re-committing to the scrap of logic she’s clinging to and shoving Tuffnut hard enough to stumble against an old, half-scrubbed copper still in the corner.

“Hey!”

“Stop giving away expensive alcohol, you need money!  And especially stop giving it to the guy full of painkillers!  I don’t need another murder investigation in my life,” she shoves him one more time when he tries to placate her, but it doesn’t affect his footing, “and don’t ask people to trade pants with you.  It’s off-putting.”

“Ok, but they’re technically my pants,” Tuffnut lowers his voice and glances at the only occupied table, “as in my property, and Snotlout is a cop, so technically I think he could force you to trade pants with me.”

“He’s a suspended cop,” Astrid recognizes a whirlpool of Tuff-logic that won’t release her until she engages it and wishes she hadn’t been so adamant about stopping the free expensive alcohol just now, “why do you want my pants?”

“My pants,” he corrects, “that I let you borrow, like the gentleman that I am, with no regard for my own pantsless-ness, expecting nothing but the pants themselves in return.”

“I’ll get you your pants back, I’m sorry if I’m a bit behind on laundry,” she scoffs, “I’ve been distracted in case you haven’t noticed.”

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, eyes wide, “don’t wash the magic out, just trade me now—”

“Ok, I really don’t have the bandwidth to disprove magic pants to you right now—”

“Nothing to disprove, you borrowed my pants, you had sex with Hiccup with my pants, they’re magic sex pants and I need them.”

“I mean I took them off,” she argues for the sake of arguing, cheeks flushing even over the feeling of dread that Hiccup’s name invokes, “and how’d you know about…last night, anyway?”

“Hiccup came by this morning, you know how he is all creepy and awkward, lurking in alleys at odd hours,” he shrugs, “and the magic sex-adjacent pants are just going to have to do.  I don’t know how long Mr. Moustache is going to be here.”

“Mr.—Fishlegs?”

“That thing’s glorious,” Tuffnut rubs his upper lip, “do you think if I kissed him hard enough it’d rub off on me?”

“I…” A few dozen non-answers and unanswerable questions float through her head until she takes a step back, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I’m going to keep your pants for now, Tuff.”

“The ones I’m wearing will make your butt look better,” he tries one last tactic, “my butt?  Awful, but yours—”

“I don’t care,” she snaps, “in case you didn’t read the mood out there, Hiccup is in jail, he’s being framed—I—”

“That would make you testy,” Tuff pats her on the shoulder, “I had not, in fact, read the mood.  You need the lucky pants more than I do, clearly.”

“We don’t share lucky pants, Tuff.”  She sighs, shoving the panic back down and forcing her voice steady.  

The bell on the front door jingles and she jumps, reflexively glancing around the small room for something she could use as a weapon.  The glass she was just drinking out of is too light and the still is too awkward, and her fingernails bite into the heels of her hands as she leans her head through the doorway.  

“What are you doing here?”  Eretson asks Snotlout, barely pausing to set Astrid’s phone on the bar.

“How’d you get this?” She picks it up, frowning at the battery and the banner of notifications fighting for her attention.

“Getting my new friend Fishface a free drink,” Snotlout explains, kicking a foot onto the bar table like falling back wouldn’t literally kill him.

“Fishlegs,” he corrects in a small voice.

“I thought you were getting somewhere safe,” Eretson points at the back door, “the third murder site is less than a block away.”

“We’re just leaving,” Astrid’s mad at herself for not making that connection.  Usually, stress helps her stay organized, but right now she doesn’t know if she’s ever felt more scattered.  Maybe the scotch for breakfast wasn’t a great idea.  “Where’d you get my phone?”  She sees a missed text from Hiccup and her throat tightens in an anxious, grating way that makes her feel like if she doesn’t keep talking, she’ll lose the ability.  “And why are you here?  Where’s Hiccup?  Why aren’t you at the station with him?”

“Does alcohol have an expiration date?”  Tuffnut joins the conversation, leaning his forearm on Astrid’s shoulder and yelping when she grabs it and twists it behind his back.  “Ouch!  I thought we were asking him questions—”

“Questions about Hiccup,” she drops his arm and presses her fingers to her temple, pacing back and forth and waiting for Eretson to say something that makes sense because she doesn’t think anyone else is going to do her the courtesy.

“She has a point though, why are you slacking off at some bar instead of dealing with things at the station, like you said you would?”  Snotlout’s expression is nervous even as his tone falls short and Eretson sighs, sitting in Astrid’s recently vacated chair and folding his hands on the table.

“Your phone was in evidence,” he says in a modulated, self-pacing tone, like he’s knowingly embarking on the first mile of a marathon without training and Astrid forces her knees stiff.  “There have been some changes to the case.”

“What’d you fuck up now?”  Snotlout asks and Fishlegs looks cautiously at Eretson, weighing how much new information he can take in.

The answer appears to be ‘none’ and Astrid almost mentally agrees with him.  She’s almost full, almost done, almost overwhelmed to the point of excusing herself even partially from the situation, but no.  If she’d done that at any point along the way, she might not be in this mess, but then she wouldn’t have done what she’s always done.  What she’s always wanted to do, what dragged her into research and a midnight tour she had no business being on.

She’s going to get the facts and get to the bottom of this.

“What changes?”

Eretson enters the second mile with more determination than the first, “Grisly has taken over my position on the case—”

“How?”  Snotlout blurts and Astrid claps her hand on his shoulder too hard to keep him from continuing.

“At my recommendation,” Eretson is almost sheepish and he swallows hard.

“And what possessed you to recommend that?”  Astrid asks, refusing to accept how wrongly she might have judged him.  There’s no point to that now, not as everything feels like it’s finally picking up speed towards something.

Good or bad depends on what Eretson says next.

“When I got to the station, Grisly was making a case to the judge about setting bail and as good as he’s been at ingratiating himself with the police—”

“Idiots,” Snotlout mumbles, shrugging Astrid’s hand off and she realizes how hard she’s been squeezing.

“He has no idea how to talk to a judge.”  Eretson doesn’t look impressed with himself so much as calmer and Astrid fists her fingers so that they stop shaking.  “And between that and the mountain of paperwork he’s currently going through, I thought it could buy me some time to build a case against him.”

“Ok, maybe this is the lack of fentanyl speaking,” Snotlout clears his throat, “but what use is a case against Grisly if you aren’t on the case to use it against him?”

“Considering fentanyl would have killed you by now, I’m pretty sure it’s just you speaking,” Astrid hisses, willing him to shut up.

“Because I’ve volunteered to represent Hiccup in court.  Free of charge.”

Astrid blinks, trying to find someone to share her shock, but Fishlegs is staring deep into his beer’s amber gaze and Tuffnut is rolling his shoulder and scanning the fine print on the back of an antique bottle of scotch.

“You’re a lawyer?”  Snotlout is shocked enough for everyone and angrier than he should be at someone who’s offering his cousin free legal representation.

“Is that a problem?”

“Yeah, it’s a problem.  Do you want to know why it’s a problem?”  Snotlout stands up, leaning on the table for support but going onto tip toes anyway.  “You’re leaving my cousin to rot in jail while some crazy guy who shot me gets your case just so that you can live out some…Legally Boned fantasy?”

“Legally Boned?”  Astrid mouths to herself, empty-stomached and scotch-full enough to wonder how he came up with something approximating clever while half-dead.  She looks at Eretson for corroboration and finds him surprisingly flustered, the red on his cheekbones incongruous with his stern shoulders.

“He’s not rotting,” Eretson wipes his face with a surprisingly twitchy hand, “he’s waiting under lock and key while Grisly sifts through mountains of paperwork and I legally obtain a copy of his compiled evidence.”

“Don’t you talk all smart at me, it won’t work—”

“Let’s go back to Fishlegs’ place,” Astrid cuts in, “regroup further from the site of a murder.”

“Party at Fishlegs’ place!”  Tuffnut hoots, bottle held over his head until Fishlegs stands up and takes it from him.

“Therapy session at my place,” Fishlegs confirms before informing Tuffnut’s crest-fallen face that he’s not invited.

“Right,” Eretson clears his throat and stands up, straightening his tie and nodding professionally at Astrid.  “I’ll call when I know anything else.”

“Ok,” she frowns, “wait, you never answered, why was my phone in evidence?”

“Hiccup was at your apartment,” he says simply, “when Grisly caught him—”

“Allegedly.”  She laughs, just guessing that Hiccup would have something funny enough about the situation to coax it out of her, “of course he was at my apartment when Grisly caught him allegedly murdering someone.”

00000

Fishlegs lives in a small, clean house on the other side of the beltway, and Astrid tries not to think of her apartment when she sees his mismatched living room furniture.  Her shell-shocked host regained some of his wits on the drive over and he gives them a brief hand-waving tour, which surprisingly ends with Snotlout slinking off towards the guest room mumbling about a nap.

“He’s not going to die, is he?”  Fishlegs asks, offering Astrid the coffee that she realizes she sorely needs as soon as he says the words.

“Not at this point, I don’t think.  Not of natural causes anyway.”  She jokes and it doesn’t sound like Hiccup.

She wonders if this will go on long enough for the wry lilt preserved in her mind to fade.

The therapy session is cancelled on account of the fact that Astrid isn’t trusted by anyone, including herself, to say anything comforting, and Fishlegs makes up the couch before he has to head back to work. As much as Astrid wants to decline it, she’s tired and Snotlout’s snoring from the other room is like the soundtrack to an extended intermission.  A forced break punctuated by interruptions reminding her that the real actors need time to reconfigure and prepare for the next act.

For someone who resented being involved for so long, being on the outside now is brutal, and she can’t stop wracking her brain for something—anything—she could do.  The urge to go down to the station and correct the account of what happened the night before festers like an itch she can’t scratch and she checks her phone for the millionth time, hoping for a miraculous call from Eretson.

Instead, there’s a knock at Fishlegs’ front door.

It can’t be case related.  That was the whole point in coming here, it’s a location entirely separated from anyone involved in the case.  Maybe it’s Eretson, even, maybe Fishlegs gave him the address when Astrid wasn’t looking.

She could be sitting here, scared to make a sound, when Eretson is standing right outside with an absolved Hiccup.

The couch creaks when she jumps off of it, but she adamantly refuses to care, letting her feet fall tired and heavy on the way to the door to look through the peephole.

It’s not Grisly.

It’s not Eretson either.

It’s Heather, and when Astrid looks to either side of the front door, there’s no obvious weapon.

Heather knocks again, frown deepening, “Snotlout, I know you’re here.”

Astrid assesses her for a moment before swallowing hard and setting her jaw, sliding the deadbolt chain into place before unlocking the door and opening it just enough to glare through.

“What makes you think Snotlout is here?”  She sets her shoulder, ready to slam the door shut as soon as Heather moves.  Heather takes a step back instead of trying to take advantage of the gap, and Astrid narrows her eyes at the brown paper bag in her hand.  “And what is that?”

If it’s a bomb, the thin door has no chance of shielding her, so she settles on an expression that might.

“Look…I just talked to Hiccup—”

“How?”  Astrid tries not to let worry or fear or anything other than suspicion show on her face, and she can’t tell if Heather sees through her or if she continues what she always intended to say.

“He was under the impression that Snotlout and well…you, were with Eretson, so I should find him—”

“You asked for Snotlout.”

Heather’s sigh is commiserating but tight-eyed, “his location is on in Snapchat.”

“Just a second,” Astrid shuts and locks the door, leaving the deadbolt in place and walking back towards Fishlegs’ guestroom.  She knows that the door won’t matter if it’s a bomb, or a gun, but this has gone wrong too many times to make stupid mistakes now. She knocks on the guestroom door hard and quickly enough to make her knuckles sing.  “Snotlout!  Wake up!”

“Just a second—”

She opens the door before he can find an excuse, “Heather is outside.”

“I thought you said Fishface didn’t know anyone at the station,” Snotlout hisses, but Astrid’s too frustrated to keep her voice down at this point.

“He doesn’t.  She found us because you left your location on—”

“No, I didn’t—” He waves his phone around and she grabs it.

“Your Snapchat location,” she turns on airplane mode before he can take it back, “why were you checking Snapchat anyway?”

“Ruffnut sent me one—”

“Never mind, I don’t care,” Astrid yanks at her tangled braid, and exhales through gritted teeth, “now we have to get rid of Heather.”

“We?  Who said anything about we?”

“The guy who potentially endangered his life to check Snapchat,” she grabs his arm, barely remembering to be gentle as she hauls him to his feet and back out into the living room.  Heather is still on the patio, paper bag under her arm and Astrid cracks the door open again, “what do you want?”

Heather looks past her, obviously catching a glimpse of Snotlout and appealing to him with a surprisingly vulnerable expression, “I want to help.”

“You’ve been working for Grisly,” Astrid doesn’t accuse, she states the truth and Heather sets a stubborn chin.

“I know—”

“He shot me,” Snotlout butts in, “I almost died because your boss is a creep—”

“I know!”  Heather drops the bag and it hits the pavement with a metallic thunk that makes Astrid freeze.  It doesn’t blow, so not a bomb, but she feels better with it out of Heather’s hands, “I should have gotten out of it then—”

“Why now?”  Astrid asks, leaning just enough sideways for Snotlout to see Heather’s face.  “You say you’re here to help us, not Grisly.  Why now?”

“He said you were smart.”  Heather shakes her head, the corner of her mouth almost a smile, “actually no, he said brilliant—”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Because Grisly humiliated me,” she shrugs, “worse, he made me humiliate myself, on live television, potentially in front of the entire country, I—and well, because he pinned it all on Hiccup.”  The second half of the sentence is far less convincing than the first and Astrid slams the door, prepared to find a window and sneak out the back, but Snotlout stops her.

“Ok, I believe her.”

“You found that convincing?” Astrid hisses, heart in her throat when she thinks about Hiccup’s situation.

“The part about Hiccup?  No, not at all.  The other part.”  He nods, “about Grisly humiliating her.”

“That would make her turn on him?”  The idea sits wrong in her chest, impossible and dangerously hopeful, like finding exact change on the ground and wondering who’s reading her mind to put it there. “Not you getting shot but—”

“Hey Ms. Brilliant,” he teases, his tone as different from Hiccup’s as hers is and full of just as much worry, “we didn’t put that together until Grisly admitted it either.”

“Ok,” Astrid huffs, more than a little annoyed as she opens the door again, choosing her words carefully to avoid feeding the useless panic in her chest, “what did Hiccup want you to do if you found Eretson?”

“Grisly got all his info from me and that stupid Admiral Haddock book,” Heather picks the bag up and opens it to reveal stacks of paper, “I have Hiccup’s notes, he thought that if we found some difference between his opinions and the way the copycat murders happened—”

“He wanted our help with research?”  Astrid’s hand itches towards the deadbolt and she curls it into a fist.

“Yours specifically,” Heather holds out the bag like an olive branch decorated in Hiccup’s hectic scrawl, “he really did say you were brilliant.”

Reading those papers is something she could do.  Something she could contribute, something she could solve.  Action she could take.

“Come in,” she acquiesces slowly and the slick sound of the deadbolt sliding free is opening a chamber that she can only hope to aim in the right direction.

00000

“That’s a ‘T’,” Heather says gently, leaning over the back of Fishlegs’ couch and pointing at a note on the margin of a crooked photocopy of page 328 of some Grimborn book she doesn’t recognize.

“I know that,” Astrid lies, the bad handwriting she’s been trying to decipher for ten minutes suddenly making sense.

“Oh.  Good.”  Heather sits down on the chair across from the couch and Astrid ignores her, tracing her fingertip over the letter that is supposedly a mutant ‘T’.  “Hiccup’s handwriting is legendarily bad when he’s excited, I was just making sure—”

“I’ve got it.”  Astrid hates that Heather has so much objective evidence supporting an unfortunate narrative that she knows Hiccup better.  It’s not fair.  It’s not true, but there’s no way to refute it.

“I don’t know who taught him to write,” the joke falls flat and Heather looks back at the notes on her lap, silent until Snotlout appears from the guest room, pale but maybe steadier than he had been that morning, “oh, Snotlout, I forgot to tell you. I’ve got your badge.”

“My badge?”  He narrows his eyes at her.

“In the bag.  With your gun,” she points at the suspicious paper bag of notes on the floor by her feet and Snotlout bends down to grab it, losing a civil dispute with gravity somewhere along the way and settling for sitting on the floor.

“His gun?”  Astrid raises an eyebrow and Heather shrugs, motion tight and careful.

“I wasn’t going to leave it with Grisly.”

“Right, leaving things with Grisly isn’t safe.”  The something, or someone, that she’s really talking about hangs in the air, only dispersed when the front door’s lock clicks open and Fishlegs steps into the room, pausing when he sees Heather.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” she waves, looking to Astrid for an introduction and seemingly ignoring her glare.

“This is Heather,” Astrid gestures, “she—long story—”

“Another one?”  Fishlegs snorts, finally exhausted enough to laugh about it.

“Always.  Anyway, she had the chance to talk to Hiccup earlier and he seems to think that researching his notes is a path forward somehow,” she waves the stack of papers on her lap at him, “so that’s what I’m doing.”

“Research,” Fishlegs gets two beers out of his fridge, hesitating a second before grabbing a third and only a third, glancing worriedly at Snotlout, who is now fully laying on the rug. “Well, I’m probably going to regret saying this, but let me know if you need any help.”

Fishlegs regrets it immediately.

Ok, maybe not immediately, he doesn’t seem to mind distracting himself from modern court cases by talking about their Victorian counterparts, at least for a night, but he definitely regrets it the next morning when Astrid accompanies him to open the archives.  She settles immediately into the halfway set up Grimborn room, ignoring how the space makes her ache remembering Hiccup’s last visit.

It’s too late to dwell on what might have happened if she’d taken him up on his offer for a place to stay instead of sticking it out at Elizabeth Smith’s apartment, so she shoves that aside, focusing on the bookcase by the encyclopedias and the rickety copier to keep what she’s working towards front and center.  There has to be a hole somewhere, something Hiccup noticed that Grisly didn’t, some guess Grisly made that Hiccup had already refuted.

Reading Hiccup’s notes is a uniquely brutal form of torture though.  For all the insight they give into his thought process, they’re surprisingly dry without his gesticulating hands and the light behind his eyes.  Every few minutes she has a new question for him, and she swallows them all down, forcing herself to focus on what she can do.

Not enough.  It doesn’t feel like enough.

Near the end of her second full day of researching, Ruffnut drops by the archives with a duffle bag that she drops on Astrid’s desk, sending a stack of photocopied notes to the floor.

“You couldn’t set that on the floor?”  She huffs, standing up to collect the pages and wobbling on feet that evidently fell asleep hours ago.  It’s been unusually quiet, probably due to Grimborn-ologists turning to their dusty old copies of Viggo Grimborn Solved: The Admiral Haddock Connection in the wake of Hiccup’s arrest, and while she hasn’t minded the extra hours to pay rent in an apartment she can’t access, she has forgotten to get up periodically.

“No, ‘hey thanks Ruffnut for remembering that no matter how obsessive I get, I still need clothes and a toothbrush’.”  She opens the bag and digs through it for what looks like a pill bottle, “and Tuff included multi-vitamins.  Flintstones shapes.”

“I’m shocked he didn’t make the delivery himself to get a shot at ‘Mr. Moustache’.”  Astrid jokes easily, pretending that it doesn’t hurt.

It’s not logical, she rationally knows that she barely knows Hiccup.  They’ve been on one date, and in her experience, emotionally supporting someone through murder investigations isn’t really a stepping stone on the way to a relationship, but she can’t explain away the fact that she misses him.  She can’t make a joke without wishing he heard it.  She can’t wake up with her back hurting from Fishlegs’ couch without wondering how much worse his jail cell is.

“He was going to,” Ruffnut sighs, perching on the table Astrid has appropriated and folding a sheet of notes that escaped the bag’s onslaught, “I think he’s nervous.  I didn’t know he could get nervous, but this is a new kind of behavior, so I’m guessing.”  Her eyes ask Astrid how she’s doing, and Astrid looks away, hoping for something to help her change the subject.

She doesn’t expect to see Snotlout and Heather walking down the stairs together, suspicious but overall polite expressions on their faces, but they’ll do.

“Any news?”  She gives up organizing the mess that Ruffnut made with her notes.

“Not from our end, you?” Heather cuts in, her polite, eager smile forceful enough that Astrid bites her lip against telling her to butt out.

It’s nothing against Heather personally, really.  Astrid would feel the same about anyone who was working with Grisly up until a few days ago when he made a fool of them and their ego prompted their conscience to wake back up and evaluate which side of the serial murderer they were on.

“Nothing much,” Ruffnut shrugs, giving Snotlout an all too easy wave.

Astrid wishes it were awkward.

She wishes Ruffnut was stilted and apologetic and Heather felt like an outsider due to her choice of company the last couple of months.  She wishes Snotlout was tired or listless like he was the first couple of days out of the hospital, instead of snickering as he flicks paper footballs across the table.  The friend-group that he was so determined to enlist her in seems to be going strong, even though she wishes it would leave her alone until she figures her bigger issues out.

Eretson does his best kill the relatively congenial mood when he swings by after five, forcibly casual about the fact that Snotlout invited him even as he looks at Astrid with official focus and clears his throat.

“Do you have anything?”

“Not yet,” she admits, sheepish, “you?”

“Some thoughts, nothing concrete.”

“Whatever, I think we can prove pretty easily that Hiccup didn’t murder a bunch of people,” Snotlout snorts, “I mean let him talk to anyone and it’s pretty obvious.”

“Do you mean a psych evaluation?”  Eretson wipes his hand down his face.

“Well, no, I meant literally anyone talking to him would know that he’s not a cold-blooded killer—”

“You’re right, a psych eval is the first thing I should have done,” Eretson chastises himself and pulls his keys back out of his pocket.

“That’s what I said!” Snotlout waves him towards the door, “that’s the first thing you should have done.”

“I’ll come with you,” Astrid starts to stand up, but Eretson shakes his head.

“Visiting hours are over and I can’t sign you in without my badge.”  It’s a weak excuse, probably hiding one of his unsolidified thoughts, and being kept in the dark is as bitter as ever.  “Maybe next time.”

“Sure,” she communicates how little she believes him with her eyes, and he leaves without saying anything else.  It’s barely silent long enough for her to try and find her place when Snotlout starts talking, stretching his arms over his head with a wince.

“Really though, it’s obvious, they should just put me on the stand, and I’ll explain how Hiccup isn’t sadistic.”

“No,” Heather cuts across, voice suddenly sharp as she points at Snotlout with a rigid finger, “we’re not doing this—”

“Not doing what?”  Astrid cocks her head.

“I’m just saying, if the judge let me tell my story, they’d have their proof that Hiccup didn’t serial kill anyone.”

“They’d have their proof that you’re an idiot,” Heather argues, and Astrid hates the idea of some shared truth about Hiccup that they know and she doesn’t.

“Why not both?”  She waves at Snotlout, “he can look stupid and prove Hiccup innocent at the same time, can’t he?”

“I think you’re over-estimating his ability to multitask,” Ruffnut says, sour for being left out of the conversation this long, “but I want to hear the story that Heather really doesn’t want to hear.”

“Trust me, you don’t,” Heather tells Astrid in particular, “it’s not as great as he thinks it is.”

“You say it could prove Hiccup’s innocence?”  Astrid asks and Snotlout squints slightly, thinking hard, then nods.  Astrid waves him on and Heather groans, rubbing her closed eyes with her fingertips.

“Ok, so, he’d just started giving his stupid, creepy tours, right?  Or I guess it’d been a while because he was getting pretty used to picking up girls on his creepy tours,” Snotlout starts and Astrid’s expression freezes in place as she nods him along.

“You don’t have to tell it,” Heather sighs.

“Everyone else wants to hear it, Heather, me included,” he clears his throat and folds his hands together on the table, “so I was kind of used to getting home to Hiccup’s locked bedroom and his dumb coat on the floor, so I didn’t think anything of it and got an after work beer and turned on the game.”

“If you regale me with a Patriots victory right now—” Astrid’s jaw flexes with impatience caped in jealousy and Snotlout rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t get to watch the end of the recap because right around the end of the third quarter, Pats were ahead by fourteen—”

“Snotlout.”

“Suddenly, Hiccup’s bedroom door opens and he’s ushering some girl out into the living room.  She’s obviously not done with him and kind of pissed at the situation, he’s bright red and stuttering about an Uber and like, hopping around on one foot to hand her a shoe,” he pauses to laugh so hard it comes out as a wheeze and Astrid forces her face flat to wait for the point, “and then…oh God, I can’t breathe—and then when she leaves, I ask him what happened, of course, and he gets even more awkward.”  His tone turns nasal, “ ‘She umm erm uhhh, well you see, she called me Viggo and asked me to choke her’—”

“Anytime, Snot, you can stop at any time.”  Heather looks at Astrid in commiseration.

“No, you can’t stop now,” Ruffnut laughs, “did he do it?”

“No!  That’s the point!” Snotlout waves his good arm in her vague direction, “apparently he completely lost his…” His words decay into giggles for a second and Astrid and Heather share another miserable glance.  “And he told her that he drank too much, but he hadn’t had anything to drink and she knew that—”

“Oof,” Ruffnut snickers pointedly at Astrid, “sorry about your future sex life.  If Hiccup ever gets out of jail, that is—”

“Don’t encourage him,” Heather cuts her off, glare reasonable but piercing, a paper shredder turned deadly rather than a blade turned on someone, and Astrid can’t help but feel grateful when it works.

“No, that’s the thing though, how could he kill a bunch of people while thinking about Vino Grapeborn if he couldn’t even stay hard—”

“Oh my god,” Astrid cradles her head in her hands, not flinching away when Heather puts a friendly hand on her arm.

Bonding through emotional trauma could be the title of her year.

“He’s not a sadist, and that’s my proof, put me on the stand.”  He laughs again, “if you want proof he’s a bottom, you can ask him about the time he lost the key to his stupid fuzzy handcuffs and I had to get them off with a bolt-cutter.  Even he thought that one was funny, later.  Way later—”

“Maybe visits to the conjugal trailer won’t be totally boring after all,” Ruffnut supplies and Astrid kicks her under the table, ignoring her grunt and turning to Snotlout.

“How many pain pills have you had today?”

“None,” he shrugs his good shoulder, “just some Advil.”

Heather looks apologetically at Astrid, who blinks, the uselessness of this conversation funneling towards anger, because more despair isn’t an option right now.

“You know, I’m just going to round the number to fifty, ok?  Can you help me remember that?”

“Fifty what?”  Snotlout asks and Ruffnut opens her mouth to make some unwelcome guess before Astrid continues.

“I think I’ve wanted to hit you fifty times since you got shot, and I’m just going to count up from here.”  She starts packing up her notes, wondering how authentically it will come across if she asks Heather to go somewhere else with her to never talk about that story again.

“You can’t hit me,” Snotlout rolls his eyes, “I’ve got injured immunity, I definitely can’t defend Hiccup’s absolute lack of sadism if you kill me with your temper.”

“You’ll heal,” she smiles sweetly and Snotlout looks to Ruffnut for backup.

She shrugs, “maybe you should just let Grisly finish you off.  It’d be faster.”

“Then there’d be no one for Astrid to take her frustration out on,” Snotlout quips and Astrid grits her teeth.

“Fifty-one.”

Heather shakes her head and scribbles on a piece of scratch paper, “I’ll start a tally.”

#ripped #hiccstrid #httyd fic #modern au #serial killer tour guide au #hiccstrid au #tuffnut is...a legend #coplout is...in fine form

[victoodles]

Cruel World I’m Gone (Chapter 4)

Be sure to follow the series on AO3 and to read part 1 / 2 / 3 

The breeze that kisses your face feels different. Warmer. This time in the morning at O'Creagh's Run there’s a bitter chill in the air. It’s a cold that reaches down to your bones and leaves your fingers numb. This, however, is a gentle gust that invites you to wake up instead of demanding it.  

Grass is plush beneath your deerskin pelts in contrast to the cotton sheets from Annesburg that you had grown accustomed to. Shelter comes in the form of a simple roof of canvas, sunlight lazily creeping in. 

Gone is your homestead of a six months. All the work, meals, and rebuilding a mere dream as you pull back the tent and find yourself back at Clemens Point. 

Jack is running through the rolling grass with Cain yapping at his heels. Abigail awaits them and their impending mess back at her tent with crossed arms. 

Sean flirts with Karen. Kieran tends to the horses. Miss Grimshaw scolds Mary-Beth for her apparent “slacking”.

It’s all back to how it was. Before things…

Before…

You can’t seem to recall what this supposed “before” is. It all fades away, as most dreams do. Locked away in the depths of the subconscious. But when you see Hosea pass by, an indescribable ache in your heart has tears streaming down your cheeks. An emptiness wracks you. You’re running before you can register why. 

If you’re too slow…

Too late…

He’ll d-

Hosea seems bewildered about why you’re so exasperated. A wry smile graces his face.“Well good morning to you too, my dear. Are we that eager to see me?” He teases, lighthearted in nature. 

You’re rendered speechless from his casualness. Hosea looks vibrant, jovial. Just how you remembered him.

Alive.

Does he not know what happens? In Saint Denis. When…

When what?

The Pinkertons. They...

What about them?

Again, you don’t have answers. Just a jumble of confused thoughts that feel painfully heavy in your head. So you wrap your arms around his waist and hold him close. You need a tangible reminder that he’s here: a man, a leader, a friend, a surrogate father. 

Hosea is taken aback again but he returns the affection, chuckling to himself. “What on Earth is going on with you, girl?” 

You squeeze tighter, burying your face in his chest. He smells of tobacco and ginseng, the familiarity puts you at ease. “I had the most terrible nightmare,” you say quietly. “But I can’t seem to remember it.” 

It’s all painfully blurry, growing even heavier in the back of your mind. 

Get him out of here.

Run.

Go where? There’s nowhere safer than camp. 

Dutch will protect everyone. 

“Oh? Well don’t worry-“

Hosea goes eerily silent as the barrel of a gun fires, cutting through the morning air like thunder. Droplets of warm liquid splatters across your face, trickling down your forehead. A sickeningly familiar hangs heavy in the air, nauseating. Blood. 

Trembling, you dare to look up to find a fresh bullet wound in embedded in Hosea. A single shot, burst through his shoulder, blooming into a hideous flower of flesh and bone. He stares at the wound blankly, fingers twitching slightly. Death has him in his embrace and Hosea doesn’t seem to feel it. 

You’re panting, a scream burning in your throat as Hosea grows colder by the second. The sounds refuse to come out. Blood drips from the corner of his mouth as he slumps against you, wheezing his last words.

"It was just a dream.” 

The ground crumbles beneath you then, dirt deteriorating into nothing. You desperately clutch Hosea, terrified to lose him again. But no matter how tightly you hold on, he still slips from your grasp as you eventually lose your footing. 

You pathetically reach out into the abyss for him, for anything, but bring back nothing.  

Falling further and further, it all comes back. It hits you all like that same gunshot. 

Sean, Kieran, Susan.

Hosea. 

They’re all dead.

And Arthur…

You’re running again on Roanoke Ridge. Chest heaving, lungs burning, muscles aching. Running and running and running, but you make no progress. 

Arthur!

You burn through all your energy in an attempt to go faster. It hurts - excruciating. Ligaments feel like they’re tearing apart tendon by tendon, but you don’t care. Arthur is just out of reach, eyes glazed and arms limp at his side. 

Please, he’s right there!

You try to call his name, but the sound is locked in your throat. The syllables don’t form no matter how much you try. All you can do is pathetically try to move forward - to be with him. 

The poppies surrounding him rustle violently the more virtuously you push yourself to every limit. Their leaves caress Arthur’s face as if to mock your plight.

Your heart threatens to rupture from over-exhaustion but as the distance finally begins to close, you can't bring yourself to care.

Just when Arthur is an arm out of reach, so tantalizingly close, your muscles go rigid. 

It all hurts, everywhere at once like wildfire.

Then it doesn’t. 

Nothing has never been so terrifying.

An arrow pierces your chest, finding its way through your heart and out through your ribs. You’re brought to your knees. 

You sputter, trying to bring any air in to alleviate the pain. Bring life to thwart the impending end. 

The alleviation never comes. Just more agony and some blood. 

You wonder if this is how the game you hunt feels. Teetering on the precipice of life and death after your arrow hits it’s fatal mark. They cry out for mercy that goes unheard. 

Irony is a miserable bitch. 

You fall forward, face in the dirt a mere inches away from Arthur. A familiar voice whispers in your ear as you struggle to find the energy to merely crawl. Blood - your blood - seeps into the ground; bloodied mud cakes beneath your fingernails in your desperation.

“Have faith,” it sneers, “you’ll be with him soon.”

The world turns darker and darker the more you try to reach for him. The flowers have ceased their shaking. 

Now...nothing.

~

You shoot up in bed, a sheen of cold sweat clinging to your skin. A silent scream burns in your lungs. You’re hyperventilating and you desperately try to compose yourself, heart hammering wildly against your ribs. 

Focus, focus, focus.

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in your surroundings. 

Reminders.

The quilt blanket beneath your fingers. A partition in the form of a sheet next to the bed. The skull of a moose hanging over the mantle. A dwindling fire in the hearth. 

And Arthur. Sleeping soundly next to you. 

Arthur. 

You reach out to him with shaking hands, running them over his cheek. Reaffirming reality. 

The prickle of his freshly shaved stubble tickles your hand. Hair soft from a recent bath. Lips chapped.

He’s here. Actually here.

As much as you want to kiss him, have him fuck the fear away, you don’t want to wake him. Not now when he’s finally started sleeping soundly again. Arthur shifts slightly in bed but he isn’t roused from your touching, thank goodness. You find the energy to smile, and you plant a delicate kiss against his temple before sliding out of bed. Sleep won’t come anytime soon. 

Silently slipping out into the night, the wind’s chill nips at you clad in only a chemise and Arthur’s coat. It’s a welcome sensation to quell the heat enveloping you. 

Signs of spring sleep within the surrounding forest. The birds have flown back north and nest in the trees. Bears have awoken from slumber and meander through the hills as they please. Wildflowers are just beginning to bloom, even more bulbs bursting through the dirt to count. 

New life. 

For you and Arthur too, in a sense.

That should make you feel better, but it doesn’t. Not right now.

Now that things have settled down, the grief has been gnawing at you gradually. There's more time for you to focus on it since Arthur had fully recovered. It comes back in waves, varying in intensity but painful all the same. And the nightmares they brought were just as vivid. 

Shaking the most recent from your mind, you regard the full moon hanging just over the lake. Brilliant white rays reflect on the water’s surface, dancing in tandem with the ripples of the water striders. It puts you at ease and you find yourself drawn to the scene. 

You stand barefoot at the shore, letting the waves roll over your feet as you look up to the sky. A blanket of stars twinkle faintly against the darkness. A variety of constellations shine proudly above, clear as day.

You feel so small under their gaze 

Ursa Major, Leo, Hydra. 

Memories of nights spent up late with Hosea playing dominos resurface. You would constantly tie with one another, intellects too matched. Sometimes the two of you wouldn’t sleep until the wee hours of the morning unless the streak was broken. Stubborn, the both of you. 

During those long, long games, Hosea would regal you about each and every starry arrangement, right down to the name’s origin. Astronomy was never on your curriculum growing up, instead focusing on the drier parts of a lady’s “education". Etiquette, needlework, piano. All you knew of the stars above was from outdated books pilfered from your father’s library and nights spent camped on forest floors.  

Almost every night Hosea would teach you, properly. Disregarding your dominoes in favor of creating your own constellations from unused clusters of stars. An interstellar game of dots and tiles. He had even made one especially for you: The Huntress. A brave woman who vanquished all foes before her with nothing but her bow and her quick wit. 

It’s the last Earthly possession you have of Hosea. Everything else had been unwillingly abandoned during the destruction of Beaver Hollow, dead and gone. All you have now are these faint lights, watching silently over you.  

The frigid pinch of O'Creagh’s Run interrupts your musing. So distracted, you hadn’t realized just how far you had waded into the lake. Now in up to you knees, the bottom of your chemise soaked. What should be a shock, or at least an inconvenience, doesn’t seem to phase you. You just relish the softness of lakebed silt between your toes. And love how the water’s chill reminds you just how alive you truly are. 

You fiddle with the hem of your chemise. As the lace slides between your fingertips, you regard the celestial eye above. The moon is your only witness on these vast mountain trails. 

The veil drifts upward. 

Nothing can see you out here. Nothing can get you out here.

Let the moonlight be your guide and the water be a cleansing. 

Arthur’s jacket is discarded and a chemise with it over your shoulder. It lands with a gentle thud; the barrier between you and the elements now lays in a heap on the shore.

Take the plunge.   

#vic's fics! #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #this was originally gonna be longer #but i split it up because im very tired

[hookedonapirate]

A Glimmer of Hope

Summary: Killian returns home from visiting his brother, looking forward to asking a question that will change his life. That day, his life is indeed changed. Just not in the way he expected.

Notes: So, I just realized, I posted this on AO3 and FF.N yesterday, but not here. It completely slipped my mind, but anyway, here it is. 

Rated: M for violence, language and possible smut

Catch up: Ch 1 I Ch 2  I Ch 3 I

Also on: A03 I FF.N

Chapter 4

Killian’s phone lights up in his hand as he sits on a bench inside the train station while Emma’s using the restroom. He panics for a split second, but to his relief, the person requesting a video chat is not Milah. It’s Liam. He’s not ready to tell his brother what had happened, but he should at least accept the call and assure him everything is fine. Even though it’s not, it is ten times better since Emma is with him.

 “Hey, little brother. You never called, so I wanted to check up on you.”

 “It’s younger brother,” Killian corrects him. “I’ve just been busy since I got back. I’m sorry I didn’t call; it completely slipped my mind.”

 Liam narrows his eyes at him. “Everything okay?”

 Killian puts on a smile. “Aye, everything’s good.”

 His brother isn’t buying it. “Where are you at?”

 Shit.

 Killian quickly tries to produce a believable answer without telling his brother the truth, but he’s on video chat and he’s obviously in public. Killian didn’t really think this through when he’d accepted the video chat. “Oh, nowhere, just at the…” his eyes circle around, seeing what type of business his surroundings of the dimly lit lobby could pass for. “I’m uh… I’m at the bank.”

 Liam’s confused expression doesn’t change. “The bank’s open that late?”

 Killian glances at the clock on the wall. It’s almost six o’clock. “Aye, this one’s open until six. Speaking of it being late, it’s even later in England. Shouldn’t you be in bed now?”

 “Well, yes, but I wanted to make sure everything was okay with you first.”

 “I told you everything’s fine.”

 Liam still doesn’t accept his reassurance. “So, you’re not going to tell me if she said yes?”

 Fuck. 

 He completely forgot about that. He forgot he’d told Liam and Elsa he was thinking of proposing to Milah tonight. Hell, for the last few hours he’s been with Emma, he forgot he was going to proposeto Milah. Killian scratches behind his ear, unsure of how to answer his brother. He knows Emma will return from the restroom at any second, and they have to leave soon, so he doesn't really have time to fill him in on the sudden turn of events.

 “Hey, Killian,” Elsa greets him warmly as she appears on the screen and sits in Liam’s lap, waving at Killian. They’re both in their pajamas in their bedroom.

 He flashes a smile. “Hi, Elsa.”

 “Sorry, I was eavesdropping.” She smiles shyly, appearing to be guilty, but also enthusiastic at the same time. “I’m dying to know if you popped the question and if she said yes.”

 Killian feels his cheeks burn, still unsure of what to say. As if on cue, Emma returns to the bench and plops down next to him before he even realizes she’s back. She immediately lays her head on his shoulder, and he suppresses a smile. He likes that she feels comfortable enough with him to just come over and lay her head on his shoulder. Hell, if he's being honest with himself, he loves it. 

 He can see her in the small box on the top right corner of the screen, and her eyes are closed. She’s unaware he’s video chatting on the phone. He tries to move the device, so she's out of the phone’s view, but it's too late. Liam and Elsa are already thoroughly confused, their smiles dimming. To make matters worse, the overhead announcement pours from the speakers, reporting the pending arrival of the train to Storybrooke.

 Liam glares at him, raising his voice when he speaks. “Killian, what the devil is going on?”

 His question causes Emma’s eyes to pop open, and her head flies off Killian’s shoulder, eyes wide and her mouth agape. The blush in Killian’s cheeks deepens and spreads to his ears as he turns his head to look at her. “It’s my brother and his wife,” he informs her quietly.

 Emma nods and sits back, a look of apology on her face. “Sorry.” It’s funny how, even though she just arrived and didn’t hear Killian’s conversation with Liam and Elsa, she already knows why they look so puzzled upon seeing her.

 “No need to apologize, love.” He flashes her a reassuring smile and takes her hand with his free one, his eyes returning to the phone as much as he wishes to avoid telling Liam the truth at this moment. Especially since Liam is scolding him hard. His brother’s stare is piercing right through him, making his palms sweat. But with Emma’s hand in his, her thumb circling over his knuckles, he finds the strength.

 “Are you cheating on Milah? Or are you just leaving her for the woman next to you.”

 Liam doesn’t know his question just opened a big can of worms. 

 Killian grits his teeth. “Of course I’m not cheating on her,” he answers gruffly. “Why would I cheat on someone I was planning on proposing to?”

 Emma squeezes his hand to soothe him, and Killian takes a deep breath, able to relax from her touch.

 Liam and Elsa look even more perplexed. 

 “Was?” Elsa asks.

 “Yes. I didn’t get a chance to propose because I returned home to find my girlfriend in our apartment… with another man.” Anger surges through him at the memories, but Emma is running her hand up and down his arm, trying to keep him calm. And it’s working.

 The faces on the screen cloud with apology.

 “Oh, Killian, I’m so sorry,” Elsa murmurs.

 “She was what?!” Liam asks angrily, his response vastly different from Elsa’s. “Bloody hell, Killian…” he sighs, running his hand over his face. “So, what are you going to do now? Did you kick her out?” He lowers his hand, now staring at him hard, as though Liam will be disappointed if Killian’s answer is no.

 Killian shakes his head, as much as he knows the truth will upset his brother. “No, I left.” He glances at Emma, trying to decide whether or not he should explain how he'd met her. Emma is apparently reading his thoughts because she’s nodding her head, lips curving into an encouraging smile. What the bloody hell would he do without this woman right now?

 His gaze reverts to the screen, and he draws in another long breath. “Liam, this is Emma.” He points the phone at her, and she offers a small wave and a smile. 

 “Hi.”

 “It’s nice to meet you, Emma. I’m Elsa, and this is Liam.”

 Liam still doesn’t look happy. “I guess it didn’t take long for you to move on from Milah, did it?”

 Killian returns the screen to himself. “It’s not what you think. Emma is—was the girlfriend of the man who Milah cheated on me with. When I showed up to the apartment, Emma was there. Neither of us had anywhere to go, so we stuck together and left for her brother's place… in Storybrooke, Maine.”

 This apparently doesn’t make matters any better. In fact, it seems to make his brother even angrier. 

 “What?! You’re just throwing everything away because of some tramp who cheated on you and for a stranger you don’t even know?!”

 “Liam, be nice,” Elsa scolds her husband, swatting his shoulder. “He just got his heart broken.”

 “I don’t care. This isn’t you, Killian. You’re smarter than this.”

 “We're not strangers,” Emma interjects, taking the phone from Killian. “We were friends before today. That's how Milah and Walsh knew each other—through us. Besides, we're only going to Storybrooke for a few days to figure things out.”

 Killian has to take a moment to process what's happening. Emma's making up a story to appease his brother—a guy she doesn't even know. It seems to work though, because Liam's features soften, his eyes swarming with apology. Killian is grateful for what Emma said. He doesn’t feel like being lectured by his brother right now. Certainly not through video chat.

 “So when I suspected Walsh was cheating and started spying on him, you can imagine my surprise when I found out he was cheating on me with my friend's girlfriend.”

 Killian has to admit, Emma is a very good liar. The proof is in Liam's reaction. He seems to devour every word.

 “My apologies, Emma. Killian just failed to mention you is all.”

 She throws Killian a fake a look of surprise. “Really?” She frowns in disappointment. “And here I thought our friendship was something to brag about.”

 Killian flashes a small smile, blush filling his cheeks. He goes along with her story and says, “It is, love. Some things are just too good to tell anyone.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Which he immediately realizes is a mistake. Because her skin is soft and warm, she smells delicious and he's pretty sure he can hear her breath hitch. But he quickly pulls away before Liam suspects something more than friendship, and touches the side of his forehead to hers. She's surprised at first and her knee-jerk reaction is to pull away, but once she realizes it's another harmless act of affection he's offering, she leans into him, pressing her temple against his as they smile into the phone. 

 Elsa gushes at the sight. "Aww, that's so sweet."

 “Don't mind my brother, lass,” Liam says to Emma. “He's never been one for bragging.”

 “That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said about me,” Killian teases.

 “I'm happy you have each other right now,” Elsa says with a smile. “So, how did you meet?”

 Before Killian or Emma can respond, the announcement of the train’s arrival sounds through the station. “Sorry, we have to go now. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Killian tells them. “Goodnight.”

 “Goodnight, you two,” Liam says. 

 “It was nice meeting you, Emma. Have a safe trip,” Elsa wishes them.

 Emma leans in and waves at them. “It was nice meeting you both.”

 Killian ends the call and slips the phone into his jacket, taking Emma’s hand when they stand up. They grab their suitcases and head toward the crowd of people lining up and heading for the platform outside.

 Once they’re settled in their seats inside the train, Emma resumes her earlier position and lays her head on his shoulder.

 Killian smiles and wraps an arm around her. “I’m sorry about my brother, love. He can be a pain in the arse sometimes.”

 Emma lifts her head, looking over at him. “He’s fine. He sounds just as protective as my older brother.”

 Killian cocks a brow. He’s not surprised by this, but he is surprised someone so protective would be okay with Emma taking a train with someone she just met. “Is that so?”

 “Yeah.” She sighs wearily and pulls away from him slightly, her features clouding with guilt. “I have a confession to make.”

 She says this as the train pulls away from the station, and his stomach twists.

 “What’s that, love?” He gulps thickly.

 “I told my brother you were a good friend of mine.”

  Oh.

 “He knows you were cheated on, but I told him the four of us know each other, just like I told Liam and Elsa.” She bites her bottom lip, her eyes full of apology. “I’m sorry I lied to him, I just… if he knew you were a stranger, he probably wouldn’t have been so open to the idea of you staying in his home.”

 Now it makes sense. Even if her brother is a nice person like Emma says he is, to agree on letting a complete stranger into his home before ever meeting them would be quite a stretch. What surprises Killian, though, is the lengths Emma went to before she would let Killian fend for himself. Before she would leave him alone to wallow in pain and misery. She lied to her brother for him.

 “Are you mad?” she asks nervously.

 He shakes his head and presses a kiss to her forehead. “No, I’m not mad.”

 She sighs in relief.

 “Thank you,” he murmurs softly. 

 She lifts a brow in confusion. “You’re thanking me for lying to my brother?”

 “No, I’m thanking you for putting faith in me.”

 She smiles at him.

 Killian recalls the earlier events of that day, and even in the beginning, Emma looked out for him. Before she knew his name, before she even spoke more than a few words to him. Killian gazes at her in awe. Few people would go to the lengths Emma has for a stranger. “And thank you for not letting me go into that apartment. I haven’t told you yet how grateful I am for that.”

 “You’re welcome. Thank you for defending my honor with Walsh.” She reaches over and takes his hand in hers, threading their fingers together. 

 He smiles, the warmth from her touch flooding through him. He’s beginning to really enjoy their hand-holding sessions. “It was nothing, love.”

 She shakes her head. “No, it was a hell of a lot more than nothing. You only kicked him once for what he did to you—for your own pain—but you hit him twice for my pain. That means a lot.” Her lips pull into a warm smile, eyes welling up with tears.

 Killian removes his arm from her shoulder so he can swipe her hair behind her ear without having to let go of her hand. “I had to. He wouldn’t back off and I could see just in that moment alone he didn’t respect you. You deserve to be respected. You deserve to be cherished. And something tells me your brother has a very good reason to protect you.”

 “Maybe,” she murmurs softly. “Since I told him we’re friends, you won’t have to worry about him, though.”

 “Aren’t we friends, though?” he asks hopefully. “I mean we haven’t known each other for very long, but I feel like we’ve already been through a lot together,” he chuckles.

 Emma laughs with him, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. I guess that makes us friends.”

 Killian sits back again, wrapping an arm around her as she reclaims her spot on his shoulder. He rests his head on hers, and they sit in silence for a while, getting some shut-eye until the food cart comes around. They decide on some dinner and water since all they’ve had today was alcohol and chocolate. Unlike at the bar, they pretty much devour their food while they discuss the story of how they met, since they won’t be able to avoid the question once they’re in Storybrooke. They agree to tell David and Mary Margaret the same thing they told Elsa and Liam, because telling people Emma was friends with Milah or that Killian was friends with Walsh is definitely out of the question. The thought alone makes them both cringe.

 Killian becomes curious as he remembers their conversation in the hall at the apartment building about Emma worrying whether her sister-in-law would be upset or not when she found out the wedding was canceled. “David’s wife… is she the sister-in-law who planned your wedding?”

 Emma nods as she chews on a mouthful of food and swallows it down with a gulp of water. “Yeah, she is.”

 “So how did she take it? When you told them?”

 Emma shrugs. “She wasn’t as devastated about the wedding being called off, only that Walsh cheated on me. David threatened to drive to Boston and kick his ass but Mary Margeret and I talked him out of it. I told him you already did and now he can't wait to meet you.” 

 Killian smiles at her as he picks up his bottle of water. “I can't wait to meet them either.” 

 Emma grins, her cheeks flushed with an adorable shade of pink. “Look at us just climbing to the top of the friendship ladder all in one day. Experiencing heartbreak together, sharing sad stories, defending each other, lying for each other. I’ve met your family, now it’s time for you to meet mine.” She laughs and raises her water like she’s about to say a toast, which she does. “Here’s to taking the next step in our friendship.”

 Killian grins and clinks his bottle against hers. “To the next step.”

 They drink to that.

Tagging some people who showed an interest in the first chapter. If you would like to be added or removed, please let me know.

@onceuponaprincessworld @ilovemesomekillianjones @artistic-writer @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @followbatbatb @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @nikkiemms @mariakov81 @kingofmyheart14 @kday426 @withheartfulloflove @takhisismb @ohmakemeahercules @bugheadswanjones @tiffanyyy-ma @authorarsinoerarsinoe @idristardis @balckwolf98 @xarandomdreamx @thejollyroger-writer @mamegankank @whatthehell102082 @myswan-myhappyending-mylove @yasbio2015 @squidvisious @leftbeyondthestarse @hallway5 @andiirivera @spartanguard

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #healing/comfort #a glimmer of hope #my fic

[storytime-hoe]

Tough Love Ch.5

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x O/C

Summary: Story picks up during season three as the group goes into Woodbury to rescue Glenn and Maggie from the Governor. However, they pick up another prisoner of Woodbury, Emma (O/C). She is a thief who fears friendships after her hard losses. She stays on the move, studying communities from afar and then robbing them blind. She has stayed alive this way for a while until the Governor catches her in the act. Now she finds herself with the group from the prison in a mission to kill the Governor for what he has done to her. She plans on stealing supplies from the prison group after the Governor is killed, but she might be growing a little too close to the groups members, especially one man in particular: Daryl Dixon.

Warnings: Slow burn, language, usual twd violence, mentions of abuse/rape, panic attack stuff also

Authors Note: Hey I don’t feel too great about this chapter either so sorry if it’s shit. Thanks for reading anyways and if anyone has any suggestions for what they would like to see along the story please hmu and I might be able to work some stuff in here and there.

Previously: Ch.1       Ch.2       Ch.3       Ch.4

I was taking in the fresh air with Carl still by my side when I started getting a bad feeling.

I felt the presence of Carol and Beth coming up behind us. I was stuck watching Hershel talk with the crazed Rick. I prayed that he could get Rick's head on straight enough to come help plan how to deal with the Governor.

That's when I really felt the change in the wind. My stomach turned in circles, a feeling I couldn't shake. I took a step closer to the fence and put my hand on it as I squinted to see into the trees.

I tried to get the warning out, but it was too late. I saw the Governor in the trees and his gun went off before my voice had a chance to reach the others. I grabbed the shirt of Carl to pull him back with me. His hands went to where I gripped his shirt and he started to try and free himself, not realizing what was going on yet. I held tight and yanked his small frame around the corner of the wall just as gunfire exploded out from everywhere around us.

"Shit," Carl muttered just as Beth rushed inside of the prison for weapons hopefully.

Carl took out his gun and fired in the direction of the Governor's men. I sat back helplessly watching Michonne and Carol spray the trees with their own gunfire. I searched for Hershel who was still out in the open, separated from everyone by the fences. He would die, I thought for sure. He had a gun to defend himself if he could, but without two legs to run away on, he was a goner. There goes our only doctor.

Rick was still outside the fence where the Governor's men were, and I had no doubt in my mind they would take him out easily too. And there would go the leader of our gang. To say we were fucked would have been an understatement.

"Emma!" Maggie shouted from across the way with Beth behind her. They had two rifles each and one of them was slid across the ground to me.

In normal circumstances I could have taken that gun and fired away like everyone else. But the Governor's presence had my head a scrambled mess. My heart pounded in my chest so fast I thought it might explode. My hands were shaking uncontrollably and I felt like I was back in Woodbury, trapped within the rotting walls. My throat felt swollen when I tried to swallow, making it harder and harder to breath.

It was like my entire body was shutting down and I didn't understand. Seeing the Governor, even if he was separated from me by a yard and two fences, I still pictured him inches from me and pulling me into his truck to take me back to Woodbury. Just the possibility that it might happen had me rendered useless.

"What are you doing?" Carl shouted at me, taking a second to glance at my trembling figure pressed up against the cement wall. "Help us! Get the gun!"

I could hear what he was saying, but it was not reregistering. The only thing I was thinking of was how there was no way we were winning this battle and I would be back with the Governor by the next hour. I couldn't believe how foolish I was to even think that we could have beaten him in the first place.

Just when I didn't think it could get any worse, a van came speeding straight towards the prison and busted down the first gate. It stopped in the middle of the yard where Hershel had been alone. The doors opened up and Walkers were soon stumbling out into the yard one after the next. If Hershel wasn't already dead out there, he would be soon.

My vision crossed at the sight of the multiple Walkers moaning for the want of living flesh. What the fuck was wrong with me? A day ago I stared down the Governor and had no problem with storming up to kill him, but now it was like just the thought of him had me too weak to function.

My whirring mind was about to overload when I blinked away some of the panic and saw that the Governor got back into his truck and was speeding away from the scene, letting the Walkers finish us off.

I managed to swallow down the thick lump in my throat and force myself away from the wall. I scooped up the rifle and surveyed the courtyard, noticing how the noise of our gunfire had drawn in more Walkers to the outer fence.

The group was running out into the courtyard, Michonne at the lead. It took me a beat to see that they were going out to save Hershel, who was miraculously unharmed.

I didn't think twice as I start following everyone out towards the Walkers invading our courtyard. We all fired at the Walkers or used a knife to put them down if they were in reach. I felt the adrenaline, the feeling of life and power, filling my veins. But I still wasn't my usual self, checking the road every second to see if the Governor was coming back. That constant fear ate away at my mind, making me not as sharp as I would have liked to be in a death match with unfeeling creatures.

When a car did fly down the road towards us, my body seized up again. It took more time than I would have like for me to reassure myself that it was only Glenn returning from his poorly timed supply run. But, thank God he came back when he did because he was able to reach Hershel much faster than we were. Glenn pulled up next to him and had Hershel back to safety in no time.

The others were making their way back to the prison as well. But I stood still, mesmerized by the clanking of teeth as I made one Walker head splatter after the next. I was clearing out a path back to the prison as well when I heard the grunts of someone struggling.

I turned back towards the outer fence and I took off running before I really saw him. Rick was overwhelmed by five Walkers with more being attracted to him by the second. They held him against the fence and he was doing his best to push them back. My legs were carrying me as fast as they could to save him, but I wouldn't make it. I wanted to shoot at them, but I didn't trust myself to not accidentally hit Rick.

My hope was dwindling away with every pounding step. A Walker was centimeters from his face and there was nothing I could do. I felt a scream rising in my throat, my frustration getting the best of me. I almost just shut my eyes to look away from what was bound to be a gruesome death until an arrow shot from the trees and put down the Walker that was on him. Rick was just as confused as I was until we both spotted the Dixon brothers at the same time.

All the doubts I had about Rick or Hershel or the entire group's capabilities were washed away at the sight of Daryl Dixon. I knew that we would be okay. I knew the Governor wasn't getting me back, at least not today. Even though I didn't see eye to eye with Daryl, just his presence kept me grounded; he kept me sane. The glue that held everything together was back, and he was here to clean up the God damn mess that was made while he was gone.

I rushed to the fence, feeling entirely myself one again, and used my knife to kill the Walkers that weren't being taken care of by Rick, Daryl, or Merle. I felt my built up rage be released into every stab I took through the fence. My body worked wildly with no more fear holding me back.

Once the Walkers surrounding them were dead, Daryl stood back, his eyes flicking up to Rick. There was going to be more arguing about Merle inside, I knew that much, but there was a silent agreement and pact that was made between Rick and Daryl. I looked between the two of them before Daryl finally met my eyes. He stared, frustratingly unreadable. I didn't dare let myself look at Merle before I spun around and started swinging my blade at the Walkers coming at me from my side of the fence.

The boys quickly ran around to meet me on the inside, helping one another out so no one would become overwhelmed. Rick had a look of revenge in his eyes that made me grin. It was about damn time everyone got fired up about the Governor, we needed to take killing him seriously. We had our backs to each other, moving as one to take out any Walkers. I felt calm with Rick and Daryl flanking me, they gave me a sense of protection that I don't think I had since the world went to shit. It was strange how connected to them I felt, almost like a family looking out for one another.

Back inside I shook away the idea that these people gave a fuck about me other than because I could help them with the Governor problem. I needed to chill with that damn family thinking. I couldn't let myself get attached, I couldn't.

I sat by myself while Hershel cleaned everyone up. He stitched and cleaned fresh wounds or re-opened ones. Almost nobody talked, not even about the fact that Merle was there now. We were too exhausted I think to try and start up that screaming battle again. Tomorrow we could all be mad that Merle was here or that the Governor attacked. Tomorrow we could plan more destruction, but for now we needed healing both physically and mentally.

One by one people disappeared into their own rooms. I was locked away separate from their cells with Merle and Michonne. Rick said he couldn't trust us yet and we needed to stay separate from everyone else when they slept. I understood the reasoning, but I wasn't happy about sleeping in the same room as Merle.

Michonne had taken to a corner and while I would much rather speak to her that to Merle, she didn't look like she wanted to be bothered. So, I huffed out a breath and looked to Merle who was leaned up against a wall, inspecting the metal that covered where his right hand used to be.

"You came back," I said, my voice sounding much louder than I wanted it to sound in the silent prison. I wasn't being rude to him or trying to start something. If I had learned anything about Merle from the time I've spent with him, it was that he was just as hot headed as I was and that he often said things that he didn't mean in the heat of the moment. That's why I didn't hold our argument prior to his departure against him and I would be using this conversation to hopefully make amends.

I think Merle and I were a little too similar sometimes. We both had shit lives and basically raised our younger siblings on our own. We both were too stubborn for our own good. And we both sure as hell didn't know when to keep our mouths shut.I think that is why we always got too personal from time to time like when he brought up my deceased sibling before. We knew where to hit the other where it would hurt; our weaknesses were our little brothers.

"Why did you come back?" I kept my voice light, showing him that I just genuinely wanted to know the answer and that I wasn't going to nag at him about anything.

He spared a second to look up at me. "We knew you dickheads would need us. Even if you can't admit that."

I stared down at my hands, not believing that was the reason, but also not denying it. "Well, I guess you're right." I stood up and slid a cigarette out from the package that lay beside of him, glad he let me take one. "If you and Daryl hadn't come back, Rick might be dead."

Merle silently held out a lighter to light my cigarette for me. It was probably the most kind thing he'd done for me besides sit and talk with me during the lonely nights of captive life. It was also as much of an apology that I would ever get from Merle and I took it as a sign that we were on good terms again.

"So I guess we do need you guys," I squeaked out before taking a long drawl on the cigarette and making my way to the door leading outside. I left Merle speechless I guess because he didn't say anything as I left to finish my smoke.

I didn't want to smoke inside since there was a baby indoors. I stood out and looked up at the bright moon. The growls of the Walkers that were still in the courtyard kept the moment form being peaceful and enjoyable. I huffed on my cigarette and slowly strode around the area, not thinking anyone else would be out this late.

Boy was I wrong. I turned the corner to where the barrels of clean water were, the place where I had cleaned myself upon my arrival. Now standing there was Daryl. His back was facing me and he hadn't noticed I stumbled upon him yet. I wanted to turn away and leave him be, give him the privacy that he came out here to have. I really did. But I was glued in place.

His shirt lay on the ground next to him and my eyes watched every muscle in his back and arms moving. The moonlight bounced off of him in such a way that just illuminated his muscles even more. It took me a minute to notice the scars that were on his back and shoulders, obviously from a beating. I recognize them to match the ones Merle had given me during my first week at Woodbury. Merle was crueler back before he took the time to chat and get to know me, so that was another thing on the list that I had forgiven him for.

At first I wondered if Merle had given the scars to Daryl too, but any thoughts about Merle and scars were long gone when Daryl raised an arm up to stretch it out, the muscles flexing as he did so. My knees weakened at the sight of his bare skin. I swallowed hard and tried to look away again, but it was no use.

I really knew it was too late when he turned around on his heel, spotting me looking on like a creep. The fire in his eyes told me I was in for it.

"The hell ya think yer doing'?"

I shook my head and tried to keep my eyes on his face and not his bare chest as he stalked towards me. "Sorry, I was just–"

"Yeah? Just what? Snoopin' around in my business?"

I furrowed my brow and crossed my arms. My mind switched into defensive mode and my anger began to spark. "I was just taking a walk, asshole. I don't give a fuck about what you do."

He wasn't buying it. "Ya sure did stand there long enough."

There was no explaining that without sounding like a total idiot, which I was not about to have at the moment. So, I asked the only question that would steer the conversation away from the fact that I was stupidly admiring him. "Did Merle do that to you?"

His eyes shot up to mine as he shoved his arms through a sleeveless button up shirt to cover up his scars. He might have been a sheet of hot anger, but I saw the embarrassment and insecurity that he was trying to cover up. He did a damn good job at covering it up too; I thought he might hit me he looked so mad. "You don't know nothin' 'bout us! Stop actin' like you do just cause Merle told ya a few stories! He didn't scar me up. He would never h–"

His rant was cut off at the sight of me turning around and pulling up the back of my shirt. I could feel his eyes running along every scar that crisscrossed down my back. I let him stand in silence and take it all in for a long time before I dropped the tank top back down over my skin and turned to face him. I knew he wouldn't listen to me try and explain that Merle would, in fact, do something like that, so I had to show him instead. It did the trick of shutting up his tempered ass.

His eyes dropped to the ground and I could tell he was still fuming, but for a different reason now. "Merle do that?" He asked dangerously quiet. In his heart he knew the answer before he even asked the question. It was just hard believing his brother was still fucking up other peoples lives on a daily basis.

I shrugged it off, taking another drawl on the cigarette to distract myself from the reality of it. I didn't mind that I might look less attractive with all of the scars I had, I just felt ashamed that I wasn't strong enough to prevent something like this from happening.

"It was before he knew me. He was doing his job." I tried my best to take some of the blame off of Merle. I didn't want Daryl to be mad about it. This entire conversation only came about because I was gawking at him, not because I wanted to know or even cared about his scars nor mine.

Daryl shook his head. "Doesn't make it right."

"Doesn't matter," I said quickly. "Nothing that can be done about it."

Daryl knew I was one tough bitch. There was no denying it after what I'd gone through, but he still looked like he was pitying me. I was starting to despise the way he did that. I was not some God damn damsel in distress. To get the attention completely off of me this time, I decided to dig deeper about where his scars came from, which I had to keep reminding myself that I didn't care about. Well... maybe I was a little curious. But still, I told him about mine, it was only fair he return the action.

"If it wasn't Merle, then who?"

Daryl was confused at first, his thoughts on Merle beating the shit out of you because some asshat wanted him to. When he realized you were talking about his own experiences he shook his head. "Piece of shit dad," he confirmed casually and gnawed at the skin around his thumb. "He did it to Merle first. Then me. Merle took a lot for me though. Guess he didn't tell ya that story huh?"

Merle talked a little about how his dad drank a lot, but he never mentioned him being abusive. Suddenly I understood why Merle would be the way he is. Without thinking I muttered, "Like father like son."

Daryl glared at me, his eyes a deep pool of hurt and anger and I realized that what I had said would include him too and not just Merle. "That what ya think of me? Ya think I'll beat ya? Or any of them in there?" He motioned to inside the prison where everyone was sleeping. His voice grew louder as he went on, his boiling anger returning in an instant.

"No! I didn't mean that. I know you wouldn't–"

"Nah," he cut me off curtly. "For the last time, ya don't know me. So stop pretending ya do."

He shouldered by me harder than was necessary, leaving me alone with my smoke still in hand. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose once he was gone.

Why did the Dixon boys have to be so fucking sensitive?

***

Tags:

@daryldixonandfrogs

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #daryl x reader #daryl x oc #daryl dixon imagine #norman reedus #norman reedus daryl #reader x daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fan fic #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead norman reedus #the walking dead fan fic

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 3

“I would have walked through fire to kiss your lips

Do you still think about it, of what you did?

Still see your old apartment, like a bad trip

Wish I could forget all the places we've been

Hard and heavy whiskey goodbyes

Boy, you know how to make a girl cry

Was sleeping in a bed full of lies

And now that I'm older, I can see why”

-- Hope by The Chainsmokers

__________

Penelope can’t stop staring.

She has tried her best to for the better part of the last thirty minutes now, but every time she re-focuses her gaze onto something else-- anything else-- her eyes can’t help but wander back towards that yellow sweater. The pristine woolen yellow sweater that lacks the last six years of rips and stains that it’s clone has come to bear. 

The sweater that still belongs to Josie Saltzman.    

And, of course, the alcohol isn’t helping either.

Even though Penelope had performed a sobering spell before leaving Hope’s dorm room and heading off to her classes, she can still feel its lingering effects on her overall inhibitions and self-control… 

Or, better yet, lack thereof.

She knows she shouldn’t stare. It’s a rookie mistake, not to mention, also dead give away that something isn’t quite right with her.  

But, then again, how can she not?

It’s all so surreal. The classroom. The students. Even Dr. Bridges standing in the front of the blackboard, droning on about the history of secret covens within colonial America. Penelope’s been here before and yet… she hasn’t.

At least not in this version of reality.

By now Penelope should be en route to Belgium, under the guise of attending some hard to pronounce, witches only boarding school and not sitting here, in class. She should be in the process of tracking down Caroline and further pouring herself into any and all ancient texts that contain any reference whatsoever of the merge. 

But she’s not. 

Because this time around, leaving isn’t an option. Not without Josie safely by her side.

Penelope lets out a small sigh as she runs her hands through her hair and tucks a few loose strands behind her ears. She pulls her eyes away once again from the yellow sweater and glances over at the relic of a clock hanging above the classroom doorway. 

Only fifteen more minutes to go.

Fifteen more minutes before she can get another brief respite from the day-to-day mundanity that is school. 

God, how Penelope hasn’t missed this part. The pure and utter boredom of sitting around, hour after hour, day after day, pretending to listen to trivial pieces of useless knowledge that bear little to no importance in the world outside of the Salvatore School. 

Who the hell cares about knowing all of the names of the witches who founded the Oakwood Coven? Or which species of newts can be found in the eastern woods of Romania? 

No one. That’s the real, harsh truth. Not one single, fucking, soul. 

Nothing that Penelope learned during her first go-around at Salvatore had prepared her for what Hope and she were forced to encounter. Especially given that Alaric and the rest of the teachers operated under the asinine belief that teenagers had no need to learn defensive magic.

Thank god for Caroline. If it hadn’t been for her and her brutal, seven days a week, training regime, Penelope wouldn’t have even lasted the first six months within the real world. Or, better yet, had the foresight to use the morsus curse when fighting for her life against…

Penelope’s eyes wander back yet again towards Josie as her hand drifts up to trace her now non-existing scar. 

“Alright, folks. Enough on the lunar cycle for today. Let’s wrap things up a little bit early, shall we?” Dr. Bridges announces from the front of the classroom. “Remember, we will be discussing chapter 4 tomorrow of the Liechtenstein text, so please make sure you’ve read it.”

The sudden sounds of textbooks shutting and chairs scraping against the wooden floor snaps Penelope out of her thoughts and back into the reality of the moment. She lets out another sigh, this time accompanied by a crack of her neck.

“Can you get any more stalkerish, Satan?” Lizzie says, drawing the attention of those few students who have yet to leave the room as she does.

“Fuck me,” Penelope mutters under her breath and shuts her eyes, taking the briefest of moments to collect herself. 

Liz. 

No. She doesn’t go by Liz. Not yet at least. The shorter, more mature version comes later. After their first, real-world encounter with one another. 

It had been around the time of Hope’s 20th birthday. They had been camped out in a small town near Vienna for well over four months tracking a dead-end lead when the blonde-haired girl had shown up. At first, Penelope thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. That it was just an odd coincidence and nothing more. Austria was chock-full of icy blondes with piercing blue eyes. 

But then the girl approached Penelope in the darkened back corner of the local pub and simply uttered the phrase “Hello, Satan” and all lingering doubts instantly dissipated. 

It was indeed Lizzie Saltzman. Or, as she had re-introduced herself as “Liz” because Lizzie was someone who frankly didn’t exist anymore. Not after all that, she had borne witness to in the events of the past few years.  

Liz had sweet-talked her way into snagging the two of them a bottle of Bulliet from the bartender, which Penelope could only fathom the price tag given the scarce rarity of non-local spirits, and the two proceeded to drink as they talked for what seemed like a lifetime. It was the first-- and sadly only-- honest conversation that Penelope had ever had with the girl that once had wished she had never existed. 

As they drank, Liz had filled Penelope in on what had transpired post the Triad invasion and the irreversible side effects that the tainted bullet had had on Josie. She somehow managed to recounter the horrific events one by one, devoid of any signs of real emotion whatsoever, except for the noticeable unsteadiness of her hand every time she brought her glass up to her lips and took another sip. And Penelope sat there and did nothing more but listened. There had been a part of her that was dying to unleash her mountain of unanswered questions beyond the blonde, but somehow she sensed deep down inside that this wasn’t the time. 

That Liz just needed to talk.

It wasn’t until they were 3/4th of the way through the bottle, did Liz work up the nerve to ask about Hope. The question came so buried within their conversation that at first, Penelope thought it was a mistake. Merely her tipsy subconscious playing tricks on her. But Liz asked again. This time as clear as day. 

And Penelope couldn’t help but revel in the way that Liz’s face lit up as their conversation turned towards Hope. Liz seemingly wanted to know every last detail about the tribrid and yet, all the while still tried to keep some of her emotional cards close to her vest. But it didn’t matter. Penelope could read right through her anyway. There was a deeper reason for Liz’s sudden curiosity. One that Penelope, unfortunately, knew all a little too well. It was the same exact curiosity that had plagued her ever since the moment she left the Salvatore School. The one fueled by late-night thoughts and the endless “what if” scenarios that left unchecked could drive a person insane.

So, Penelope took a risk. A calculated risk, but a risk nonetheless. With a long sip of whiskey, she looked Liz dead in the eyes and revealed to her that Hope was madly in love with her. 

Without missing a beat, Liz smiled back and responded that the feeling was more than mutual… in fact, it had been for most of her life. 

The conversation abruptly ended soon after those words with Liz being suddenly pulled away by a phone call and then rushed goodbye. There had been a promise made that she would be in touch shortly for yet another round of drinks and late-night confessions, but unfortunately, it never happened. 

The news of Liz’s death came just a few weeks later.  It had been on the tip of Penelope’s tongue a million and one times to let Hope know about the rogue encounter, but she could never find the right moment to do so.  

“Uh… Eww. No thanks.” 

Penelope opens her eyes, allowing herself to take in the view of Lizzie Saltzman standing before her. A set of icy blue daggers stare right back along with the all too familiar arms folded across the chest stance that all but screams ‘I’m openly judging you’. 

It’s classic Lizzie. And God is it a bittersweet sight for sore eyes. 

The slightest hint of all-knowing smirk slide across Penelope’s lips. “Hello, Saltzman.” 

“I’ve told you a thousand times already. Leave my sister alone. Got it?” 

But Penelope doesn’t respond. Instead, she stands up from her desk and goes about packing up her belongings, never once letting the smirk drop from her face. It’s a deliberate move and one that Penelope more than knows will elicit the type of reaction that she needs in order to move the game along.

“Did you hear me?” Lizzie huffs out, slightly more impatient than before. 

Penelope still doesn’t bite. She maintains her composure as she pushes her desk chair in and then turns to fully face Lizzie head-on, locking her eyes in on the blonde. A momentary silence falls between the two of them as Penelope continues to smirk and watch as Lizzie fights against the ever-growing discomfort. 

“What?” Lizzie growls. She pulls her eyes away, pretending to glance at the ambient chatter coming from the nearby hallway, not able to withstand another second more of Penelope’s unsettling gaze. 

“Quick question for you… Why’d you let Roman escort Hope last night?” 

Lizzie blinks and shakes her head in slight confusion. “Huh?”

“At the pageant. You had the choice to escort Hope yourself after Landon was a no show. And yet you decided to let Roman step in instead? Why? You practically bent over backward just to ensure that Hope won. Why not be the one by her side?”

“I… I didn’t… How did you…” Lizzie grasps at words, trying her best not to appear too thrown off guard. 

“If I were you, I would’ve gone for it,” Penelope replies with a shrug. “Nothing wins a girl over more than being there when she needs you most.” 

Penelope throws in a playful wink for added measure as Lizzie continues to search for something-- anything-- to say in response. But all she can do is stand there, staring back at Penelope in complete and utter shock. 

“See you around, Saltzman.” 

And with that, Penelope up and walks out of the classroom as her smirk grows even wider than before. 

__________

“Penelope! Wait!” 

Penelope stops dead in her tracks as the sound of Josie’s voice echoes out from behind her. She’s been wandering the downstairs hallways now for the better part of the last hour, allowing herself to just get lost within the steady stream of Salvatore students. Sure, it’s not the most productive use of time, but it doesn’t matter. After the unexpected face-to-face with Lizzie, Penelope more than needs the space to sort through the ever-growing tidal wave of conflicting feelings brewing deep within the far depths of her mind.  

Penelope slowly turns around and instantly spots Josie battling her way against the dense sea of uniform-clad teens. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Josie responds a bit out of breath as she breaks through the last wave of students and joins Penelope. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“You have?”

“Of course I have. I’ve been trying to find you ever since the end of Medieval History… How on earth did you know that?”

“Know what?” Penelope responds slightly confused.

Josie gives a quick scan of the passing crowd for any signs of big ears and then grabs Penelope by the arm and pulls her into a nearby nook. “That Lizzie secretly likes Hope.”

Penelope can’t help but let a harsh chuckle slip out. Of course, Josie had overheard the exchange. She’s always has a tab on Lizzie whenever they’re together. Just like a mom of an overly mischievous toddler. One eye on them at all times, holding their breath and waiting for the next tantrum.

And it’s this-- Josie’s Achilles heel== that will lead to her ultimate downfall. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing. It’s just…” Penelope trails off, stopping herself before she inadvertently opens Pandora’s Box. “I guessed. That’s all.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I…”

“Enough with the bullshit, Penelope. You and I both know you’re good, but you’re not that good,” Josie fires back with an underlying bite to her voice. “Tell me the truth. How’d you know?”

Penelope runs her hands through her hair and exhales a breath of air that she didn’t even realize she was holding onto. 

The truth.

Two words that are so simple yet so powerful. For Penelope, telling the truth has never been the easiest route when it comes to Josie. No. How could it be? Speaking the truth meaning running the risk of inflicting long-lasting pain. The kind of pain that leaves invisible scars along the soul. 

“Okay. You’re right. It’s wasn’t just a guess,” Penelope responds. “It was also Hope.”

“Hope?” Josie quirks an eyebrow at the mention of the tribrid’s name. “What about Hope?”

“She’s the one who told me about Lizzie. Apparently whatever went down between the two of them during the Miss Mystic Falls pageant opened her eyes to things that up until this point she’s been blind to… Or something like that.”

“And she told you this?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Jojo,” Penelope says channeling her old 16-year=old self for a brief moment. “I make quite the good confidant. You of all people should know that… I still haven’t told a soul about how you’ve got a secret kink for handcu--”

But before Penelope can finish her sentence, Josie clamps her hand down over Penelope’s mouth as her cheeks ignite with a noticeable reddish hue. “Enough… I get it… So Hope feels the same way?” 

“Without a doubt.” 

“Interesting…” Josie replies. “I always had a hunch that there was something there between the two of them… Too bad Lizzie will never act on it.”

“How are you so sure?”

Josie shrugs. “It’s Lizzie. No one knows her better than I do.”

“Then I guess I’m just going to have to push Furball to make the first move.” 

Now it’s Josie’s turn to chuckle but unlike Penelope’s, it’s filled with nothing but an abundance of warmth. And Penelope can’t help but smile at the way that Josie’s nose crinkles up as she does. 

God, how she has missed this. 

“Okay. Now it’s my turn… What’s so funny?” Penelope asks.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” Josie matches Penelope’s smile. “I can’t put my finger on it, but… I don’t know… You just seem different somehow.”

“Different in a good way?” 

Josie bites down on her lip as she gives a small nod. “Yeah. I think so.” 

“Well maybe I’m trying to turn over a new leaf,” Penelope responds nonchalantly. 

Josie reaches forward and ever-so-gently tucks a loose curl of Penelope’s raven hair behind her ear and then lets her fingertips linger for a few moments upon Penelope’s cheek. Penelope feels her breath slightly catch as she fights the urge to fully lean into it. “Promise me something?”

“Anything,” Penelope eagerly replies.

“No more lies, okay?” 

And instantaneously, Penelope’s whole body stiffness. No. Not that… Anything but that one request. It’s the one promise she can’t uphold. 

Penelope swallows down the dry lump of emotions bubbling up within her throat and then ever so subtly moves her hand behind her back and crosses her fingers. “Okay.” 

“Good.” Josie smiles in return. Penelope starts to open her mouth to say something-- anything-- more, but before she can manage to utter a single word, the bell rings.

“Shit. I’m going to be late to History of Ruins,” Josie says as a look of panic sweeps across her face. “Let's talk later… Maybe during study hall?”

“Sure.” And once again, Penelope finds herself utterly frozen, unable to do anything more than watch as Josie disappears from sight. 

God, is this going to be harder than she ever imagined.

#posie #penelope park #josie x penelope #josie saltzman #lizzie saltzman #legacies #wlw #ao3 #fanfic

[edyacouky]

Can I protect you? 2/4

I wasn’t sure I will suceed write the next chapter this week. My job kill me I am so tired.

I hope you will enjoy it

Read on AO3 Chapter 01 Chapter 02 Chapter 03 and Tumblr Partie 01, Partie 03

                                                          ~*~*~

When Jason wakes up, he forgets where he is and why. Until he hear the Joker’s laugh. And he remembers. Stephanie was gone and he found her. But it was a trap for Bruce and he was the one fall for it.

And if things can’t get worse, he was fifth month pregnant.

If the Joker doesn’t kill him, Roy will do and Jason will not stop him.

He killed his child. He killed their child.

“I have to admit Hoodie, when I saw it was you I was really mad. But it seems you understand a fundamental true.”

Joker injects something in his neck after he retired his scent blocker. If his round belly doesn’t betray him, his scent does.

“More the merrier, the merrier.”

And the fucking Joker touches his belly. He wants scream, kill the bastard but he can’t move.

Jason doesn’t know what drugs Joker puts on his system paralyses him.

When Joker let him down, Jason saw Stephanie. She is just beside him. They could almost touch. She doesn’t smile like before and the storage doesn’t look like the one they were before.

How long was he out?

Breathes, Jason said to himself, and focus on what you can see.

Stephanie seems alive but badly beaten, and her scent shows her anger.

Jason thinks that she must be angry because of what Joker did to her, of what happen this late two days. But the true is she is angry because she gets caught, because of what Joker will do to Jason and his pup because of her. And she can’t do anything.

“I can’t wait see Batsy’s face when he realize he fails save not one, not two but three people! And everyone is so weak for omega bitch pregnant!”

Joker stands up in front of Jason.

“Like there is something hard to open the thighs and take a knot!”

He kicks Jason in his belly and laughs at that. Stephanie, despite being unable to move, groan deeply and menacing.

“What sweatheart? It is your?” Joker ask before kick Jason again

This time, Jason fights his instinct and force himself to stay calm. He gets caught because he was stupid enough to panic earlier.

It is not the first time he was paralyzed by a drug. He has to stay calm and focuses to move. He can do it. He will stand, punch the fucking Clown. Scratch that. He will kill the fucking Clown. And he will save his pup. Even if Roy refuses to let him see them after the birth.

“Hello!” Joker yells to his face

Fuck. They are so close, they almost kiss.

“Are you there Hoodie? I remember that you know better how to handle the blows!”

Jason concentrates only to move. He can feel his toes wriggle when Stephanie uses everything strength she has left to take his hand.

“If you’re not the cutest couple here! Joker laughs

-Pudding?

-Excuse me Harley. No one is cutest than us.

-Pudding, what are you doing?

-Are you this stupid?

-You shouldn’t do that …

-What did you expect when I tell you I have a surprise for the Bat, my dear Dumbass?

-Not a pregnant omega …

-No! Nonono! Not you too! You are not this stupid, are you? Joker ask kick Jason again

-Stop that!”

Jason can feel his knee wriggle too. Just a second and he can move his leg to destabilize the Joker.

Joker was going to kick him again but before Jason could feel the pain, Harley punches Joker with her giant mallet.

She looks as surprise as everyone that she actually do that. But she didn’t lose her confidence. She takes place between Jason and Joker.

“Don’t make him loose his pup.” She said

Joker groans at her before attack her.

Jason takes advantage of the diversion; he crawls up to Stephanie, with difficulty because of the drug but with determination all the same.

“S-Spoiler …”

Gods, he voices is so weird almost like it didn’t belong to him.

Inhale, Jason. Exhale. Good, he can do it. He can save them.

“Ja …

-Shh. N-nam…e yo…u re…mem…be…r?

-I … I ‘…m s-s-sorr…y …” She whispers while one of her hand touch his belly

Jason almost cry, thinking that his child could die here because of him. Never Roy will forgive him. Never Jason will forgive him, if he survives.

No. He won’t think about that. Gently he caresses Stephanie hair with his nose.

“Shh. T…They w-will …be … f-fine. You … w-will … be … f-fine. I… I … w-will… be … f-fine.”

Stephanie didn’t success hold back her tears. But it is ok. Jason didn’t think she let herself cry before the Joker and she needed it.

“Shh.

-S-sor…ry … S-s-so s-so…rry …

-I … n-need … kn…now … h-ha…ve …you … a … a …a … com …com …?”

Stephanie shook her head.

Jason wasn’t surprise but he was hopping they had a chance to contact the Bat.

“O…K … O…K. H-ha…ve …so…me…thi…ng …el…se?”

Stephanie start shook her head then stop.

“B-ba…ck … on … my n-ne…ck … bu…t I … I … c-ca…n’t … he”

Jason saw her move her arms and understand what she means. All her fingers are broken and she didn’t seem able to move her shoulder too much. Joker beat her so hard that she was unable use whatever was on her neck and could have help her.

“O…K … F-fine …”

He feels something hit the floor beside them but he decides not to look, only focus on what Stephanie try to show.

It was a tracer, one Bruce like to put on everything his children could wear. It seems like Stephanie turn off this one, and he can’t blame her since he would have done the same thing.

Shit his fingers shake so much.

Inhale, Jason. Exhale.

Gently, slowly, he turns on the device and can only hope they will find them before Joker stop beating Harley to beat them.

“Please, he thinks, I don’t care about my life. I know I shouldn’t be alive. But please. Not my child. They have to survive. Please.”

Stephanie and he put their forehead together, trying breathing as calmly as they can, while they wait for a miracle, too exhausted and wounded to fight.

“You are a stupid bitch, Harley! Joker yells when she was finally unable to fight him anymore. How dare you make me angry? And for what?”

Jason feels Joker catch his leg to pull him. He tried kick him but all he gains was a knife stab his leg.

“For this stupid bitch that waste a perfect joke by coming back! For this stupid bitch that open up his thigh and let any alpha knot him! For this stupid bitch!”

This time Joker will stab him in his stomach. Jason knew it. And he have no arm, can’t barely move, and lost blood because of his leg’s injury.

“Not my child. Not my child. I’m sorry Roy. I’m sorry Lian. I’m sorry baby. I can’t protect you. I knew it and I decide make you suffer anyway.”

Joker finally looks at him and not Harley anymore. But Jason wishes he didn’t to that.

“Last chance Hoodie. Will you be?”

Jason wants to, but he knows the true.

“F-fu…ck … you.”

Joker will love hear him beg and cry while he take everything he wants no matter what.

I’m sorry.

Like in a movie or TV show, it was when all was lost that a miracle occurred.

A batarang stab Joker arm and almost all the Batfamily appears.

Orphan and Red Robin go for Spoiler watching what they can do for her before bring her back to the cave where she can be treated.

Batman and Robin fought the Joker and Harley who seems fight for her “pudding” again. One day she will stop, when she realize she can.

Nigthwing and Batwoman go for him. They look at him like they don’t really believe he is here.

“Little wing, Dick whisper, what the hell are you doing here?”

Jason whine, almost cry. He knew it was a bad idea coming here. He knew he fuck up. Can’t they focus on save his child? The lesson could wait.

“Not important right now. We have to stop his leg bleeding and take him to the hospital. Batwoman said and Jason wants to thank her

-He can’t go in hospital like that. Dick said pointing to his costume but starts stop the bleeding

-We can retire his domino and his top with the symbol on the car. Batwoman retort

-It would be weird that we both bring a pregnant omega …

-What? You never have to bring a pregnant omega to the hospital during one of your patrol? And at least things in the cave change during the last two hour, we can’t take care of him or the baby there.”

Dick bit his lip but didn’t try anymore to argue. The risk their identity was discovered was big, but the health of Jason and his baby was in danger too.

“You are right. Sorry. Everything will be alright Hood, ok? We will take care of you.” Dick smiles gently and Jason truly wants to believe him but he can’t.

He feels pathetic but he needs Roy with him, especially if things go wrong.

While they carry him to Batwoman’s car, Jason tries to explain that to Dick.

“A-Ar…se…nal…

-What?”

At first, Dick frowns then he looks at Jason’s belly and his eyes widened in shock as he understood what he was trying to tell him.

“Ok … Ok … we will tell him where you are as soon as we can phone, ok?”

It is not enough but Jason realize they can’t stop his bleeding and drive and call Roy. So he nods.

Luckily, Gotham is used to their vigilante now, and neither the doctor nor the nurses think much of seeing Batwoman and Nightwing. In an instant, they all focus on the distress pregnant omega.

With the little information, Batwoman and Nightwing give them –The omega was drugged but they don’t know exactly by what, he was maybe punch on his stomach- they start treat him.

Despite their instinct, they leave Jason alone on this hospital. The last thing they need is someone thinking they have a connection.

Dick calls Roy while he was seated on the roof of the building opposite. Roy reacts like expected. He was worried and angry at them. When he knew which hospital Jason was, he hangs up.

Dick sighs but when he sees Kate informs Bruce about Jason’s situation, he thinks it must be worse for her.

“Seriously B? She asks unimpressed. You think it was a good idea brings him to the cave, really? We haven’t anything to make sure the baby is safe. I know that he is hurt; it is for that we bring him to a hospital. Of course we leave. We never stay when we bring a victim to the hospital. You know what B? If you worried, you can come see your damn son.”

She hangs up. She sights loudly.

“Your father is an asshole.”

Dick smile weakly when watch the hospital again. He wants go see Jason. But he can’t come see him as Nightwing neither as Dick Grayson. Fuck if he visits him as Dick Grayson it is sure someone will assume he is his mate and the father of his baby. His baby. His Little wing is pregnant ! And he didn’t know it! He is pregnant with his ex-best friend’s baby! And he didn’t know it!

“You are as worse as him. She said. Come, we will change and see him.

-But what we will tell to the hospital? To the media?”

Kate has no time to respond, they see Bruce Wayne. Not in disguise. Not at Batman. They see Bruce fucking Wayne enters the hospital as himself.

“Same thing as him.”

Bruce, you hypocrite. Dick though.

When Roy finally arrives on the hospital, he is a mess. When Dick calls him he was recovering Lian from Dinah's house. They would go home, prepare the meal until Jason returns safe and sound. Lian did not understand why she had to stay longer. Roy had not said anything to him not to worry but it had not had the desired effect.

He could still hear her cry.

And he didn’t feel much better.

“I receveid a call. He said to the receptionist. My mate is here. He is pregnant. Please tell me how he is.

-What his name is?”

Shit. With which name he was checked in?

No. It wasn’t important. They have agreed on a name for Jason’s new identity.

“His name is Jason Johnson. But I don’t know how he was check in.”

The receptionist looks at him with a sad smile; visibly she was touch by his worry. Roy didn’t met many alpha that was unaffected by a distress omega. They were sympathetic or sexually excited by that.

While she did her research, Roy give her all the files he have to prove the existence of Jason Johnson and that they are mate.

“Roy! Dick calls him and Roy didn’t know how he feels about that. Good thing you are finally here. They didn’t let us seem him. We come here so fast that we didn’t think of take any identity card.”

Roy realizes only now, that not only Dick, but also Bruce, Kate and Damian were here.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?

-Roy, we just want to…

-I don’t care about what you fucking want! Roy exploded. It is because of you Jason is here now!

-You are not fair …

-Oh you must fucking kidding me right now?! I am not fair?

-You can’t keep me for seeing my son.” Bruce intervene on mode Alpha bullshit

If he thinks Roy will let him be impressed, he was mistaken for another omega.

“Oh yeah. The son you are close enough he didn’t want you to know he was pregnant! For fifth month! And he never changes his mind. He didn’t want you to know or have any contact with our child. I don’t have to keep you to see your son; your son doesn’t want to see you!”

Bruce looks so hurt by that, that if it was different circumstance Roy will feel bad for him. But now, Roy thinks Bruce didn’t suffer enough.

He wants yells: “No Gotham, no Red Hood for fifth month! But one call from them and he came risk his life, his and their baby’s life for them. Again and again. But it would never be enough, right?” but he said nothing because, even in his distress, he knew here wasn’t the right place to talk about their job.

“Please. Tell me you find my mate. Roy said to the receptionist

-I find someone but they didn’t have any identity card. The doctor will come soon to tell you if you can see him.

-Soon how?

-Soon like right now.”The doctor said

She was a skinny and tired beta but she was forthright and honest.

“I can’t tell you anything about the patient if I am not sure you are who you said you are. But he is awake enough to tell if they know you. Please come.”

Roy takes back his papers and follows her. He stops when he saw the Batfamily do the same. He groans at them threatening.

“What do you think you doing?”

Bruce groans back and for a moment, everyone though they will fight.

“-Please misters. I will let the patient decide who they want see.” The doctor interrupt not impressed

With difficulty, they all arrive in one piece to the room. The doctor forces them to stay outside while she approaches Jason.

“Mister, there are some people here. Maybe there are your families. Can you confirm it? Can you look at them please and tell me if they can come into your room?”

Jason’s scent reeks from distress and worry. It is almost unbearable even at the door. When Jason looks at them, they can see him crying.

“Roy.” Jason said looking at him miserably

It is enough for Roy who run to him, takes him in his arm and kisses his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and his lips.

He can’t help himself but put his hand on Jason’s belly. And no word can describe the relief he feels when he feels his child move.

“You’re alive. Our child is alive.” Roy said like he can’t believe it

Jason cries louder making his breathing difficult.

“Shh. I am here. Cry, you will feel better after.”

Roy rock Jason in his arm. He can’t understand why Jason reacts so badly. They are fine. It was a horrible night. But they are fine, right?

“Sorry. The doctor said. But about the other person, do you want to see them?”

Jason shakes his head without look at them.

“Ok. I will let you a moment then I come back explain everything to you, ok?

-Yeah. Thank.” Roy said

Bruce and Dick were devastated by Jason’s reaction and at first refuses to leave. They wanted at least know how Jason was.

“The patient didn’t confirm you are his family. The doctor explain

-I am his father.

-If it is true, come back here tomorrow. Maybe he will confirm that. In the meantime, please leave.

-I will come back tomorrow.” Bruce said more for Jason than the doctor.

Then he leaves and the other follows him.

“Mister?

-Harper. Roy Harper.

-I am the Doctor Olivia Armstrong. If your … mate, right? Right. If your mate agrees, are you ready listen the prognostic?

-I am. Roy said before ask to Jason. Are you? It is ok if you are not …

-I am. Please, just … Don’t stop holding me …”

The doctor let them an instant before saying:

“Your mate was kicking in the stomach more than once and drugs with some paralyzing drug.

-Oh God … Jaybird … Roy said while kisses him again

-We did exam to ensure the health of Mister Jason and the baby.

-And well?

-The drugs don’t seem have long effect on Jason and the baby. In some minutes, it would be off his system without any after effect.

-Ok good. And the bad news?

-Like I already said to Jason … Well there was obviously a detachment of the placenta. The hematoma is peripheral and small so it will not impact the maternal-fetal exchanges.

-What does that mean? Jason and the baby are in danger?

-We will have to impose on Mister Jason total rest and close supervision. At least initially, to make sure that the hematoma does not get worse.

-I killed them. Jason said

-No you didn’t. You are fine. They are fine.

-No they are not.

-Mister Roy, I don’t want trouble you and your mate more but you must know. We cannot guarantee that the pregnancy will end well. We will do everything we can but we cannot promise you everything will be alright.

-I am so sorry.

-Hey, Jaybird. Look at me. Look at me. No matter how it ends it is not your fault, ok?

-You must be so mad … I hate myself so much …

-I want to be mad. Roy confesses. But true is in your place I would have done the same thing.

-God … Doesn’t make us horrible parent?

-Hey! I think we did great with Lian.

-It is because she is so smart.”

Roy laughs and kisses Jason again who relax a little in his arms.

“I love you Jaybird. We will everything for this pregnancy to end well. But no matter the end, I love you.

-I love you too.”

#dc comics #jason todd #roy harper #lian harper #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #dick grayson #kate kane #joker #harley quinn #jayroy #jasontoddomegaweek2019

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Eye of the Storm, Ch 4

I've had much of this written for a while, but I got caught up on whether I should write in a less important part. I decided against it. So, what we have is pseudo-smut (it'll make sense shortly) and more heartfelt road trip conversation and flirting. The real-life smut should go down with the next chapter! ❤️❤️❤️

To catch up, the Eye of the Storm master post is here.

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Robert lowered himself on top of Maggie and continued his gentle thrusting. They had shared a frenzied, steamy moment earlier, and now, with that out of the way, he was expressing his feelings with every cell of his body. He was as close to her as two people could possibly be. He littered her with kisses and the tickling sensation of his long curls in constant motion, and he lulled her on the slow road to oblivion with the heat of his body and his metronome-regular strokes. Maggie telegraphed how she cared for Robert in much the same way, grasping him and meeting his movements, wishing their coupling could last forever. He growled softly in her ear and--

“--Earth to Maggie! Where'd you run off to in your head, love?” Robert gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She jolted out of the fantasy that had occupied her mind for the last few miles on the road.

“I, uh…”

“Were you thinking about bananas and lemons, and the squeezing of lemons? Mine, to be specific?” He smiled his most mischievous smile, knowing he was right.

“Yes, Robert. You caught me thinking about tonight. You could say I'm a little impatient to be alone with you.”

“Your smile is what tipped me off. I must've been doing an exceptionally bang-up job… Rest assured, I'll meet every last one of your expectations tonight.”

He nipped at her earlobe and traced small circles on her thigh for good measure. “Quite frankly, if I was 100 percent healed, I would have asked you to pull off the road for a proper reunion a while ago, but the yoga I'd have to bend into in your darling automobile on a bum ankle…”

“Well, excuse me for not having a limo for you, Your Highness.” She gave Robert's leg a playful shove while she kept her eyes on the road, but a tiny smile was visible on her face.

“You know, you can drive us around in my Land-Rover. She's not had much of a workout in quite some time. Benji's been using his Cadillac when we go out.”

“Sure, I can do that,” she said, nodding her head.

“And then you can get your fix of me anywhere. And I of you.” His smile warmed her heart and her core at the same time. Robert was the only man who could make her feel loving and lustful at the same time. And she would never get enough of it.

“So, what have you been doing with your time off of your feet? Writing new songs? Re-reading your Tolkien books? Practicing new sexy faces for your concerts?” Maggie quickly glanced at Robert before turning her eyes back to the road.

“A little bit of this, and a little bit of that, but not much of anything productive, I'm afraid.”

He turned to Maggie, studying her familiar profile and smiling. “Well, I did write some songs, of course. One can't help but be inspired when they're living in paradise, yeah? But scenery notwithstanding, many of the songs that you'll hear on the new album do have a bit of… Angst, shall we say.”

“Pobrecito… Poor, dear Robert,” she said, glancing at him briefly. “Did it help any to get your feelings out on paper? Out of your head?”

“It did at the time, but now I hope I didn't get too moody. The fans are expecting us to serve as their aphrodisiac, as it were, not make them weep into their bloody cans of Miller.”

“I noticed that you were silent when we drove past the billboard for the album earlier. Is that why? Pre-release jitters? I'm sure it will be fine. Everyone is hungry for some new music from you all.”

“That's what G keeps saying…”

“And you don't believe it? The band with unbelievable concert attendance numbers and mountains of records sold, all without really breaking a sweat?”

“I do believe it, but… Things are different… I'm different. I won't be wild, Black Country Robert, prancing about on the stage.”

Maggie turned down the music to focus on Robert.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm going to give ‘em everything I've got, same as always, but I don't seem to have a prance left in me right now. It's going to be baby steps as I continue to heal, you know? I'll dream up a different way wiggle my ass and look good. Bonzo's right, no one will ever take that away from me, at least.”

“I, for one, am counting on some ass shaking and strong singing,” Maggie said reassuringly. “I know you'll be back to your old self once you get in front of an audience.”

“But beyond how I feel physically, I think I'm losing my zeal for tour life,” he continued. “It's not enough to just be the happy, horny kid who sang every day and partied every night, you know? I'm excited, but I'm also restless. I need to know my future has something more than singing the same songs every night, even if we do throw something a little different in here and there.”

“What do you want to do instead?” Maggie asked.

“That I don't know, Mags… For a brief moment I considered a solo album, or just saying fuck it and becoming a teacher or something, but…”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Ahhhhh… Bugger that! Enough self-pity blathering and castles in the sand…” He gestured with his hand as though the movement could cast his mood away. “I'm sure you don't want to hear all of my ‘woe is me, poor little rock star’ bullshit. I haven't even asked you about your feelings. I'm sorry, love, you're the one leaping blindly into the abyss of touring a first album. What's on your mind?”

“I am beyond excited. Everything is moving so fast, everything I'd always hoped would happen. I feel really blessed. We all do.”

“It sounds like you're going to add a ‘but’?”

“But the waiting is hard! I wish we could start tomorrow and get that first concert out of the way. I want to know if they're going to love us or not.”

“How have the album sales been?”

“There has been some interest. San Diego especially. People who know us from the dive bars down there have continued to support us.”

“What about singles? Radio play?”

“We have one single, but it seems that no one knows what to do with it. Rock radio is skittish, I think because there's a woman fronting the band. It's either that or our Latin influences that make us “unique,” as everyone likes to phrase it. But we're not getting much Latin radio play, and we're too rock for black radio… It's like we don't have a natural home or built-in audience.”

“I think there's a place for you lot. Good music always finds a way, no matter how different it is.” Robert stroked her hair reassuringly.

“From your mouth to God's ears, Robert.”

“I think you're all amazing. Your brother, his rhythm! And he hits hard, almost as hard as Bonzo. You all play so tight. You make absolute bedlam in the audience. Trust me. I was there. If your record captured any of that, and I'm sure it did, you're good as gold.”

Maggie smiled at the memory of Robert coming to one of their concerts a few years ago. The spectacle of rock royalty in the audience--he insisted on watching from the front row--did die down quickly once the concert was underway. The crowd couldn't get enough of her band, and the noise before the encore was deafening. Robert was right, it was a night that made them all believe they were on the way.

“You'll have people across the country dancing in no time. And when you strut onstage in the outfits I have in mind, if you'll have them… There might be some news reports of this Prince of Peace getting into fights over the horny hordes of fans getting too close to his woman…”

Maggie didn't know whether to laugh or thank him, or pull over to show him a different form of gratitude. “I love this fantasy you're painting, Robert.” She also liked that he called her his woman.

“Mark my words, Mags, it will be a reality.”

Her smile was uncontrollable. “Now, back to you. You know what your problem is, Robert?”

“Tell me.”

“I think you'd believe that things will go fine if someone prettier than G was trying to cheer you up.”

He stared innocently at Maggie, and she caught his puppy dog gaze in her periphery. “You? What do you have in mind for a mopey bloke like me?”

“Everything you like, Robert. I have lots of ways to make you forget all your worries.” Maggie flashed a wicked smile at Robert before turning her attention back to the road.

“Don't tease me, woman…”

She smiled smugly as she kept driving.

Robert yawned and looked out the window. They were almost at Maggie's place with her brother. She was lost in thought again, with her musings ping-ponging from sex with Robert to his fragile mood, to her own anxieties. She asked herself whether her band should be practicing more, fretted about the order of their set list, wondered if anyone would show up when they weren't in San Diego.

Her fitful rumination was interrupted by Robert's soft snore. He had fallen asleep with his head leaning against the car window.

She glanced at him briefly and smiled at how comfortable he was with her. He felt safe enough to unpack his deepest struggles, and she was delighted that he felt that way.

She was also glad that their relationship was growing stronger. They were no longer in a new acquaintance phase, for which the most mundane conversation was volleyed back and forth to prevent awkward silences. Robert could share what was on his mind, or he could sit quietly while listening to the radio or looking out the window, while he found some reassuring way to touch her.

She thought of their ease with each other in the car as the equivalent of the couples on TV who would comfortably sit side by side in bed, one person reading a book, the other doing a crossword puzzle. It was the kind of relationship she wanted with Robert. She craved a partnership of two people who felt secure enough to be vulnerable with each other or tend to their private goals and interests as needed, without straying too far from each other. He seemed as willing to live that way as much as she was.

She smiled to herself. It was exactly what she needed while everything else in her life was so uncertain.

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