#hideaway chapter 17 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

storiesofsvu · 2 years

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Her Everything Ch 9

Warnings: Language, talk of racially sensitive stuff (s17 episode related), character death (it’s just Dodd’s, don’t worry). A lot of talk of the job.

A/N: This covers all of season 17 in one chapter, I didn’t want to do a huge time jump at this point, and honestly, this year hit the squad/da HARD, so it made sense to include these kind of things in the story. Next chapter is somewhat similar but with a million times more fluff. Also I had to watch Dodd’s die like, 3 times to get this chapter out. You’re welcome

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The next month and a half was definitely one of mourning, a disheartened fog hung thick in the apartment. Aside from grieving his Abuelita, Rafael knew you were going through the annually internal struggle of coping with your own Mother’s death. The two of you did your absolute best to stay strong for each other, making sure there was time carved out of your busy schedules to curl up on the couch together, reassuring each other that things would work out. You were lucky to have each other, and even more lucky that the events over the past little bit brought you tighter together rather than drive a wedge in between you. Especially considering what the upcoming year was about to throw at both the NYPD and the D.A’s office.

First it was discovered that the chief medical examiner was in fact, a serial killer, outed by the notorious Greg Yates, Rollins found out she was pregnant, you were thrown a new Sergeant who happened to be the Chief’s son and then Rafael brought home a case he was sure would spark a huge fight. Uni’s from another precinct had shot and killed an unarmed black teenager, quite literally emptying their clips into the poor kid. You’d been on the scene with the rest of the SVU crew to witness the aftermath. Olivia was quick to stand up for the uni’s, arguing with Barba, saying the cops were doing their job, and he expected the same thing from you considering you were part of the blue.

“Suppose this is the part where you yell at me for going after an indictment.” He muttered as he came in the door that evening, tugging out files to continue working.

“Are you kidding me?” You glanced up from your laptop and he could see the rage and melancholy burning in your eyes, “You weren’t at that scene Raf, there was absolutely no reason for one of those pricks to unload his entire round into that kid, much less all three of them. One or two shots and he would’ve been subdued, it’s like these idiots forget they have tasers.”

“And if they’re claiming they were fearing for their lives?”

“Three people with guns vs someone they thought was armed?” You rolled your eyes, shutting the laptop, “I’d tell ‘em they should wear their vests more often. And I’ll testify to that.” You moved around the island to where he’d set up shop, kissing the side of his head.

“I’d rather keep you out of this one.”

“Too prejudicial?”

“Yes.” You leaned in again, kissing his cheek softly,

“I’m gonna shower..” You’d made it a few steps away when he turned to you again, calling out towards the hallway.

“Carino?” Stopping, you turned to face him, leaning on the door frame. “Have..you ever killed someone?”

“Once.” You sighed heavily, “He’d kidnapped and raped an eleven year old girl. We managed to track him down to a hideaway house, my partner went in without backup, by the time I got inside the perp had a gun to my partner’s head, loaded and cocked, ready to shoot.”

“Sounds like you’re not the biggest firearm fan.” You let out a huff of a laugh,

“Listen Raf, some of these guys, they head straight to the academy after high school, rising through the ranks if they feel like it. For them, all they care about is the power, feeling cool cause they’re a cop. I didn’t do it for the gun and the badge, I do it for the victims. I went to school, I got a degree, I took extra courses in psychology, crisis counselling, I’m heavily trained in first aid so if someone is shot on a scene I can do my best for them to make it to a hospital, even if it is a perp. I’m here to solve their crimes and get them back into the world on the right foot. I could give a fuck if I had a gun on my hip or not. It may be protocol for me to draw my weapon in situations, but I do my damn best not to fire it. Indict these trigger happy bastards, it’s what they deserve.” Rafael couldn’t help the small smirk at your words,

“You did once say you were the cop that kept other cop’s toes in line.”

“I do my best to make sure innocent people don’t get killed. Just wish we would’ve gotten there faster, might’ve been able to stop them.” You turned at that, traipsing down the hallway as Rafael called after you.

“It’s not your fault!”

“I know.” You shouted back wearily from the bedroom.

You noticed Rafael a little more on edge as the trial for the three uni’s started, to be fair, everyone was a little on edge. The entire department was shaken up by the matter, and there were definitely more than one or two blow outs over the entire situation, not to mention the media. You did your best to keep your head down and keep doing what you were doing, there were plenty more cases to be working on. And it seemed like SVU wasn’t going to be let off easy. Benson got herself into a hostage mess in a townhouse, Yates and Rudnick managed to somehow escape Greenhaven which meant more visits from the Chicago P.D team, and then there was a giant mess of a sex ring involving the Catholic Church, corrupt cops, A.D.A’s and Judges.

To say you were beyond exhausted was the ultimate truth. By the time May rolled around, you were more than thankful to be able to have a few days off. Rafael had suggested a nice dinner to celebrate your three year anniversary, you only groaned in response, not even wanting to think about putting on a dress and going out right now. You apologized when you saw the rejected look in his eyes, promising him you could do something in the following weeks, but for right now, you just wanted to curl up with take out and wine. You picked a date and Rafael softly kissed you, telling you that he’d plan it out, you had nothing to worry about.

Then came the Munson case, things were all hands on deck, and it was busy as ever at the precinct, as if you hadn’t taken down enough influential perps this year, you were now dealing with a corrupt C.O from Rikers. You’d spent the evening going over things with Dodds, files scattered across your desks, working much later than anticipated. It was only when Liv insisted the two of you be done for the night that you finally left the precinct. You were surprised to find Rafael at home already, thinking he’d still be at the office, this was a tough case, with a lot of pressure coming from higher ups and other departments.

“Rafael…?”

“Hmm?” He didn’t bother looking up from the file he was reading.

“Wanna enlighten me as to why there’s a protective detail downstairs?” His head shot up at that, sputtering in response, his heart racing in his chest.

“I..uh. What?”

“You think I can’t recognize an unmarked car or two plain clothes? Did something happen with the case?”

“It..may not be related to the Munson case.”

“Oh?” He sighed heavily. Rafael hated the fact that he’d been keeping this secret, he just hadn’t thought it was that important until today, and he hadn’t wanted you to worry over nothing.

“I’ve been getting threats since the Terrance Reynolds case. Nothing serious!” He shot out, seeing the sense of shock and worry on your face, “Just, hang up calls from burners, texts, things like that.”

“Okay…so I’ll repeat; why is there a protective detail downstairs?”

“Carino, you might want to stay somewhere else for a few days.”

“Rafael what are you not telling me?” You cocked a brow, crossing your arms over your chest challenging him to continue withholding whatever it was.

“Today some punk threatened to throw me down the court house stairs and crack my skull.”

“Raf!” You started to move towards him, dropping your detective stance in worry, he cut you off with an extended hand.

“And I may have given him our home address.” He definitely should’ve seen the swift smack to the back of the head coming,

“Are you kidding me Rafael!? Maldito idiota!” You let out a heavy groan, “You’ve been getting threats for the better part of a year and instead of reporting them, instead of telling your girlfriend, who may I remind you is a fucking cop, you give your actual address out to someone who threatened to kill you? How stupid are you?!”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You rolled your eyes, “I wanted to keep you safe, keep you out of it as long as needed until it blew over.”

“Well I’m in it now!”

“I’m sorry.” Your body language softened at the true remorse in his expression, moving in between his legs against the bar stool as you loosely linked your hands behind his neck.

“Apology accepted.” You met his lips for a soft kiss, humming in satisfaction at the way his hand cupped your cheek gently, the other arm resting on your hip. “You’re still an idiot.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Oh I know you will.” You flashed him a mischievous grin, “Put all this away and come to bed, that way you can reallymake it up to me.”

“I will gladly take that offer.” You laughed at the smirk he shot you before tightly pulling you to him in a much more heated kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you always.” You murmured against his lips, tugging him to stand, following you back to the bedroom.

Rafael was down at the precinct a couple of days later, they’d managed to track down and bring in the perp who’d threatened him and he needed to make an I.D with Carisi and Rollins.

“Where is everybody?” Rafael asked, gesturing to the relatively empty bull pen, ‘Congratulations Dodds’ banner still up along with a half eaten cake.

“Doin’ a closin’ job at Munson’s.” Sonny replied, dropping down into his desk.

“All of them?”

“Fin’s with the vic. It’s new policy with close jobs, one body per group of civilians, Liv, Dodds and Y/N, one gets the kids, one handles the wife, one handles Munson.” Rafael grimaced at the thought of you out there with someone like Munson, especially on a close job, he reminded himself that you always reassured him you could take care of yourself, but something just wasn’t sitting right.

Back in his office he had the news on in the background, an attempt to try and keep up with the case from the media’s perspective. His head shot up from his opening argument when a breaking news case broke through the screen, Munson’s mugshot splayed across the screen, the anchor mentioning that in a turn of events the man had taken his wife and two NYPD members hostage and shots had been fired by the man, conditions of the others currently unknown.

He felt his heart drop into the absolute pit of his stomach, his pulse instantly began to race as the panic coursed through his veins. His brain flashed back to the conversation about guns you’d had earlier that year, how you used all plausible options before firing your weapon and in that moment, God did he ever wish you were one of the trigger happy ones instead. Barely thinking he grabbed his phone, tossing his jacket back on as he raced out of the D.A’s office, Lincoln Hospital was the closest one to the Bronx, the closest to the Munson’s house, it had to be where you were. His phone called you on repeat the entire twenty minute drive over, each time it hit your voicemail he felt his entire soul breaking. How on earth had he been so stupid to not tell you just how much he loved you each day he spent with you, that he loved you more than he could ever imagine, more than anything in the entire world.

His gut of where you would be was right on the nose as he sped into the waiting room, brass was everywhere, he spotted Olivia with Tucker, heading straight to them.

“Where is she?” He didn’t realize how out of breath he was, nor how shaky is words came out. Olivia barely glanced up at him, still in a daze of guilt, not properly thinking.

“‘Round the corner, second door on the left.”

That was at least something good, it meant you weren’t in surgery, it meant if you’d been hit you might be out for a while, but at least you were closer to being alive than he’d worried. Rafael didn’t even notice racing past Sonny as he exited the door Liv had specified, he practically collided right into you as you moved to the doorway.

“Raf-?” The only way you could describe the sound he let out was a choked back strangle of a cry. Your front was nearly completely covered in blood, a smear of it still on your neck you hadn’t realized was there. He roughly pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around you in the tightest hug possible, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, fingers tangling into the messy bun. You felt his body nearly shake against you as he melted into you, holding you there until he’d managed to control his breathing again, feeling that you were in his arms, that you were safe, not open on an operating table somewhere.

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone? I thought you were hit. Are you okay?!” He pulled back and you could see the tears brimming in his eyes. Your hand reached up to stroke his cheek gently,

“Oh Rafa..I’m fine.” Your lips met his cheek, holding there for a moment, letting him realize you were real, and that you were really okay, “I was just giving blood, Mike’s…lost a lot..things aren’t looking good.”

“I’ve been calling you non stop for half an hour!” Your face scrunched,

“My phone never went off..” You stepped over to a nearby chair, rummaging through the bag a nurse had given you to throw your blood soaked blazer in. You’d whipped it off as fast as you could to try and stop the bleeding in Mike’s abdomen at the Munson’s. Digging through it your hands hit both pockets, then shook the blazer out over the bag. Nothing. Your hands patted down the minimal pockets of your dress pants, double checking you hadn’t shoved it into your bra, you turned back to Rafael with a look of apology on your face, “I…I don’t have it. It must’ve fallen out at the house. Mi Amour, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Your hand grasped his, pulling it to your lips quickly before wrapping your arms around him once again, “I’m here, okay. I’m fine, I’m safe. I’m with you, and I love you always.”

“Marry me.” You almost didn’t hear the words muffled against your skin, pulling your head back to read his face.

“What?”

“I thought I’d lost you today, and the only thing I could think of the entire time was that I never told you just how much I loved you. Carino you’re the only person I want to be with for the rest of my life. I love you more than anything, and I’ve known that for a while now. Abuelita knew you were the one the moment she met you, it may have taken me a bit to catch up, but I know she wasn’t wrong. Marry me.” You were doing the best to control any amount of confusion or awe from expressing itself on your face, you couldn’t control the smallest of smiles, the tears brimming in your eyes at his admission. You knew you loved Rafael more than anything on the planet, and that you always would, you just had no idea he’d been on the same page.

“Is..is this because of..” You gestured slightly, insinuating to the whole hostage, getting shot situation.

“No.” He grasped your free hand in his, “Well, kind of, but the ring’s at the apartment. I had this whole plan for next week for our date, but I don’t want to wait any longer. I needed you to know now.” He felt his heart rate pick up again, but this time because he suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable. He’d laid his feelings out on the table and it was your choice that would either crush them completely or elate him more than he could ever imagine.

“Oh Rafael…of course I’ll marry you!” A small giggle escaped your lips as he pulled you in for a kiss, this one more passionate than the others, “Te amo siempre.” You murmured against his lips, happy to have this little private moment to yourselves.

Truthfully, your little bubble of happiness remained just that. A few hours later, when Dodds was finally in the ICU, he ended up having a massive stroke and was declared legally brain dead. Rafael held you tighter when the news came in, knowing that your brain was racing through every moment in that house, the million things you could’ve done differently to end up with a different outcome, not to mention the shot could still have hit you in the heat of the moment. The squad reluctantly left the hospital in a sense of complete exhaustion, both mentally and physically, everyone coping with it in different ways, it always stung harder losing one of your own.

You and Rafael decided to keep the news of the engagement under wraps, out of respect for Mike and the Dodds’ family, it wasn’t exactly the time to be celebrating. While he did give you the ring the next morning, you only wore it around the house, making sure to stash it back in the little blue box before heading into work.

It was actually on accident nearly a month later, you’d been out running a couple errands, diamond on your hand when Liv called you in for a case. You had to drop everything and head into the precinct without the time to go home first and hadn’t even realized. You were in interrogation talking things through with the perp while she watched through the glass, smirking at how much you talked with your hands, the diamond ever so obvious. She turned to Rafael when he showed up, smile on her face,

“Congratulations.”

“What? The bastard that stupid?” She laughed, nodding towards the window,

“That’s one hell of a ring.” Rafael felt his cheeks flush, a grin breaking out on his cheeks as he realized what she was talking about.

“Yeah, well, she deserves it. She deserves everything.”

“She really loves you, you know.” Liv smirked over at him, “I can always tell when she’s distracted texting you when she’s supposed to be working, the silly grin’s a dead giveaway.” Rafael couldn’t help the laugh at that,

“Sorry. I promise I’m not trying to distract your detectives.”

“‘S’long as you’re only distracting her, I’m fine. You make her happy, incredibly happy. And I’m happy for the two of you, really.”

“Thanks Liv.” He gave her a soft smile before turning his attention back to the interrogation room, his eyes lingering on you before fully tuning into the conversation.

You made him so happy his heart nearly hurt, he couldn’t remember feeling like this in years, you’d swooped into his life and nearly stolen it all away. He knew how incredibly lucky he was to have you, how lucky he was that you said yes, that you excitedly put that ring on your finger, and now, would be able to proudly wear it.

The rest of the squad was pretty quick to find out at that point, everyone congratulating the two of you and teasing you about how you were stuck with Barba for the rest of your life now. You laughed it off, saying you wouldn’t have it any other way. Amanda of course was quick to suggest a night out to celebrate it, and honestly, thanks to the months prior, the squad neeeded something to celebrate, to be happy for, so you agreed. A night out with the team and Rafael at Beekman, you were quick to insist on no decorations or any kind of bullshit like a ‘bride to be’ sash, this wasn’t the bachelorette party or anything. Though you didn’t miss the gleam in Rollins’ eye when you mentioned that, you knew you were in for it.

Lucia was over the moon, ecstatic that Rafael had finally made the move and couldn’t wait for the wedding, which you quickly reminded her would probably take a while. You were leaning towards a longer engagement, both of your schedules so constantly busy and up in the air you figured you’d use the small amount of time off both of you had to decide on smaller things before booking a venue or setting a date, where was the rush anyways? You both loved each other more than you could imagine, a silly ceremony and piece of paper wasn’t going to change that

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #law and order #her everything #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit

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abbatoirablaze · 2 years

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Down The Rabbit Hole Master List

This series is completed! ✔️

Tawney Michaels is a Canadian exchange student working on a teaching degree...only, she's ended up at Greendale Community College.

She's young. She's inexperienced. And she's been assigned to Professor Slater and Professor Duncan.

And that's when she met seven people who would change her world.

Chapters

Chapter 1-I Now Pronounce You, A Community

Chapter 2-Hideaway

Chapter 3-Valentine's Day

Chapter 4-The Crush

Chapter 5-The Chicken Mafia

Chapter 6-Priority Registration

Chapter 7-Holding Firm

Chapter 8-Breaking Down

Chapter 9-Man Of The People

Chapter 10-Gone Girl

Chapter 11-All Is Fair in Love And Paintball

Chapter 12-Scary Stories

Chapter 13-Baby It's Cold Outside

Chapter 14-The Dreamatorium

Chapter 15-When Fantasies Come Crashing Down

Chapter 16-The White Whale

Chapter 17-Baby It's Cold Outside, Part 2

Chapter 18-Teaching 101

Chapter 19-...And A Funeral

Chapter 20-Turning 40

Chapter 21-The Gift In The Grift

Chapter 22-One More Time

Chapter 23-And A Wedding

#troy community #abed community #community show #community #troy barnes #troy and abed #abed nadir #shirley bennett #pierce hawthorne #annie #britta perry #jeff winger #down the rabbit hole

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breath-of-eternity · 1 year

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Chapter 17

Shaking, Amaia crawled out from under the tree. She picked up the spear and it immediately slid out of her hand and banged against her foot, and she stared down at the red mark, mind attempting to process what was wrong. The throb of pain already dulled, though its rhythm was in sync with her heartbeat. Wind ruffled the dirty skins she had on—wind she should have heard. She tapped her spear against the tree, but the only thump was in her imagination.

“This better not be permanent.”

Her throat vibrated. Her ears picked up nothing. This was going to be a hell of a day.

Whatever happened, the monsters would be hungry tonight. They’d been heading south, so she would be heading east, like she should have yesterday. She had enough food to last a couple of days, though she could use more water. Hopefully she’d stumble across a river. She certainly wasn’t going to hear one.

The farther she walked, the browner the plants became. Dirt coated her from the knees down, and large flakes floated off whenever she scratched. It would be so nice to find a river or a pond and wash, but the filth was probably the only thing covering her scent.

A tear trickled down her cheek. She kept walking.

Behind the haze of dust hanging over the field, shapes stuck out, tall and straight like trees but without branches. Fear tickled her chest. Ruins, she thought, and it grew more certain with each step. These were different from the last ones she saw, the first she came to made of some kind of white metal she didn’t know existed. She brushed her hand across it and recoiled, her face a grimace. Metal was smooth, yes, but not like this. She tapped her fingers, but it did not resonate like wood or metal or anything else she was familiar with. It almost seemed light.

It was as big around as she was, shaped similar to the ones in the last ruins, but thicker and shorter, and broken shards that seemed to be the same material. She gripped one and tried to wiggle it, but it was hard and unyielding, not sharp enough to cut unless she fell on it.

“Weird. Why are there no stories about this?”

She licked her lips, dry, and took out her water. It didn’t help.

As fun as it would have been to poke around more and come up with ideas for how it worked, the sun was already past midday. She left the pillars behind and continued to a hill on the horizon, shrouded in dusty air. As she got closer, more humps appeared, and something about them made the hair on her body stand on end. It was like the ruins, or even the flyer. It was not something produced naturally.

Even from this distance, she could tell she was taller than the domes, and when she got close, she could see no grass springing off the sides. It had been sculpted not by nature, but by people, and she could not fathom why until she circled it and found a hole in the bottom, partially caved in. Once upon a time, a group must have used it as a hideaway near the ruins—maybe the people Krist once lived with, who hunted down scraps of metal in the old cities.

She jabbed the side of the hole with her spear and dirt cascaded down, so it wouldn’t make a good hiding place unless she enjoyed being buried alive. She went around the next hill twice, but couldn’t find the entrance anywhere, no surprise, the dirt was soft and loose.

The sky had durned a dusty orange, and the night would come early here. The next hill had a low, flat hole she would have to crawl through, the soil no firmer than any of the others she’d come across. She knelt and prodded with the spear, and wood clacked off wood.

No wonder it was still standing. They reinforced this opening. She reached in as far as she could and found the ground sloping, and she squeezed through legs first, and soon the bottom dropped away. She slid down until dirt materialized under her, firm and dry. She swept the spear back and forth until it tapped into walls. Not big enough to hold more than two people. She supposed that made it perfect for her.

“I wish I had come here yesterday instead.”

Her voice was small, that of a child who hadn’t reached their naming ceremony yet. At least she could hear again.

Yawning, she sat down against the wall and hugged her knees to her chest. The ground was very hard, maybe even clay, which would explain why this structure was more intact than the others. It was probably more of a resting point than anything, a place for them to crawl into and hide if they couldn’t drag their scavenge back to their main camp before sunset. It was as safe as you could get from the monsters in these parts.

Amaia leaned over onto nothing and jolted awake when she knocked into the ground. She ate what she could and wrapped herself in the skins, then lay on the ground for sleep to take her in the darkness. Her dreams were filled with strange structures made of hollow trees and the flat metal her knife was made from. So many people walked from place to place, the skins draped over them not a patchwork of animals, gathering fruit from trees that grew even in the gray soil. She asked someone how it was possible and the woman tilted her head, eyebrows pulled together. “What do you mean? It’s always been possible.” Then she walked away. Amaia took a step to go after her, and her foot sunk into a swarm of insects. They crawled up her leg biting and stinging.

She woke scratching, the bugs still creeping across her, but she couldn’t see, now she was blind! A scream rose in her throat before she remembered the darkness she concealed herself in. Her mind was fuzzy, her mouth tacky, and she sipped water from her nearly-empty skin as she got to her feet and found the hole she crawled in through, a glimmer of sunlight at the far end. A smile twitched the corners of her mouth. It had been a while since she found a place this nice. Not since she left the overhang by the river. How long ago had that been? Days? Weeks?

She crawled out of the hole into the sun of early morning. No bugs on her, so that was one good thing. It was just the filth coating her skin that made it itch, and her mind had to play her the absolute worst scenario.

Wind brushed her skin, and when she shut her eyes she could detect the gentle roar. She inhaled sharply and released a cry, intending for a hello that could echo over the badlands in case anyone was in earshot, but it turned into an incoherent wail that left her throat raw. She fished out the water skin to slick her injured throat.

“I’m alone,” she said in a cracked voice, but a voice she could hear. “There’s nothing I can do except keep going.”

Her breath was shaky. She stared up at the sun, coming up behind broken pillars, the only remnants of her ancestors. Her dream came back to her, the city full of people talking and loving and living.

Time to find some water. There was no choice but to go west towards actual green.

“The cities were bright with light even at night,” Retta had said to the children sitting around her in a circle. “There were more people than they could count, living in structures that towered into the sky.”

“What were they made of?” Zara asked, brow furrowed. She never believed any of the stories of the ancestors. Her favorite phrase was “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Wood and metal,” Retta said. “It does seem impossible, but there are still some out east, where the storms didn’t wash them away.”

“Still—”

“This was more generations ago than I can count,” Retta said. She held up both hands, fingers splayed. “You know how many fingers this is?”

“Of course I do,” Zara said. “Ten.”

“If one finger is ten generations, then both hands are the time between us,” she wiggled the small finger on one hand, “and the time the Ancestors still lived in their structures.”

She wiggled her other little finger finger. Zara’s lower lip stuck out.

“Are any of them left at all?” Yan asked.

“Not that I’ve heard,” Retta said. “Like I said, there were generations where storms destroyed a great deal of the world—either before the war or after, or perhaps it happened twice.” She locked eyes with Zara. “Or perhaps all this is wrong. Many of our groups have similar stories, though. Structures that housed massive families, wiped from the face of the Earth by storms and war.”

“It doesn’t make sense!” Zara exclaimed, and Yan and Amaia rolled their eyes at each other. “Even if they lost all their technology to the Absconders, all these huge metal structures are gone? Metal doesn’t just break like that.”

She folded her arms across her chest, nose high in the air. More eye rolls.

“Metal does wear and break,” Liali said. “Mother’s knife broke yesterday.”

“But that’s small. These structures are supposed to be so huge.”

“We get metal from scrappers,” Amaia told her. “They get it from the old structures.”

“It’s not… It doesn’t… I mean…”

Zara looked from person to person, searching for help. When none was forthcoming, she slammed her fist into the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. Her sulk was bigger than ever.

“Everything wears away with time,” Retta said. “It’s best you learn that now. Even the miracles of the ancestors. The only reason the Absconders have their metal contraptions is because they know how to build more. We don’t.”

It had been a nice day, Amaia remembered. Hot, so everyone was sweating, though not deadly when you were sitting in the shade like they were. A stomach grumbled, but it wasn’t quite mealtime yet, and Amaia didn’t want it to be because then it would be naptime and she hated naptime.

“I think it must have been nice to live in one place,” Yan said. “Were there enough animals and trees for them all to eat?”

Zara snorted something about how there’d be a ridiculous answer to that, too.

“They had people dedicated to growing food,” Retta said. “You know how we spit out seeds and bury them? And take some time to lop off dead branches and remove insects? They had places all around them just for doing that. For animals to eat, too.”

Zara jumped up. “They couldn’t have—”

“I believe it’s time to eat,” Retta said. Everyone was on their feet and running to get their meal.

Amaia’s foot squelched in mud. The memories fell away, and she was alone again, among bushes on the yellow side of green and climbing between silent hills. The mud she’d stepped in was tacky and went downhill, between pricker bushes and a tree with dead, insect-chewed branches, heading in a southerly direction. It likely petered out into nothing as the hills ended, so she turned north and followed the soft ground to the trickle of running water.

The water was gray and gritty, and she followed it upstream until washing with it didn’t seem like she was only adding more dirt. She scraped her skin raw, peeling off layers of filth and dropping them away from the water. After she finished, her arms and stomach were tinged red.

It was good enough for cleaning, but for drinking she hoped for something better. She followed the water to the creek it branched off from, only up to her ankles but clear and fresh. It ran at an easy pace and she sat down on a rock to dip her feet in the cool, but before long the hair on her body was standing up and she was shivering.

When she looked down, her face rippled in the water. Her hair had grown enough that it was beginning to curl, and her forehead had sprouted red welts across it. She reached out and tapped the reflection, the only face she had seen in months.

“I could stay here for a while,” she said. “No, not a while. A couple of days to rest up. The monsters will be back before long. And there’s not enough to eat around here. The trees and grass are…”

She checked around. Half-dead, that was the finish she was looking for. Tree branches were splintered, trunks stripped of bark. Leaves were chewed, bushes completely stripped of them. Like any corpse, the insects were eating this forest. When a fly tickled across her arm, she flicked it away.

She stared at her reflection again, watching it distort into another being—perhaps one that was not as much of a walking corpse.

Now it was time to head back to the ruins, just in case she got lost. She would sleep and wake up again, for another long day of survival.

#LAST novel #original fiction #post apocalyptic fiction #fiction #post apocalyptic #a survival story #is not a fun story

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ao3feed-todoiideku-deactivated · 2 years

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Moving In

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/XI98CTE

by HolyVessel

The group finally moves in together despite not knowing how well they will do. Bonding ensues.

Words: 4165, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 17 of HideAway

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Toogata Mirio, Iida Tenya/Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku/Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: BDSM, Dom/sub, Sub Midoriya Izuku, Cock Warming, Subspace, Caretaking, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Threesome - M/M/M, Double Penetration

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/XI98CTE

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bnha #iideku

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theinternetisfulloftrash · 3 years

Text

Far Away From L.A.

Story Summary: Dylan arrives ahead of production to a new filming location to get a break from L.A. It’s a small town in eastern Canada that’s remote and serene. While he’s enjoying the touch of anonymity that comes with filming in a rural town where most people couldn’t care less who he was, he meets Amelia.

Pairing: Dylan x OFC

Warnings: eventual smut, RPF, slight angst, general naughtiness

Authors Note: This chapter is thicc (12k) and A LOT happens. If you've been waiting for the goods. Get in there. I tried to deliver ;) Oh, and when you're done, BONUS content.

Index: 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 12: Incredible (Amelia POV)

Amelia was toiling her way through a day that felt like it would never end. It seemed like every hour was taking three. She’d been waiting six months for today—to get out of that basement and gain back her independence—so she couldn’t help but feel a bit like a pathetic little school girl because that wasn’t the reason she was so antsy for the day to end. But there were only thirty minutes left in her shift, so the torture was almost at an end.

She always spent the last part of her shift watering after the mid-day sun had passed, so she wandered around the grounds giving all the thirsty plants their daily drink until she made it to the greenhouse. She checked around, dead-heading a few flowers and pulling a few errant weeds before she grabbed an empty box from a fertilizer shipment and headed to her little hideaway.

The sun still held some heat to it as it spread across her back, warming her skin through her shirt. She smiled as she walked down the little path, letting her eyes flutter closed for just long enough to see Dylan’s smiling face in her mind’s eye. She unlocked the shed and set the box down on her desk. There were a few things that she thought she might like to have in her new place. A few little treasures and pieces of art she could maybe frame at some point.

Continue Reading on AO3!

I’ve migrated the fic over there. If for some reason you’ve been reading along on tumblr and don’t have access to AO3, please let me know. With the content that will be coming in future chapters, I think it is better that it exist there.

Thanks everyone!

Trashy the Trash Panda

#my trash #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagines #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien x original female character #dylan fic #FAFLA fic #FAFLA Chapter 12 #THIS GOT WILD #AND LONG AS FUCK #sorry it took so long #I know....#I hope it's worth it #I made it a chonker for you #<3 #it's no longer eventual smut #it's just SMUUUTTTTTT #trashy writing

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pro-logue-epi-logue · 1 year

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RIKA, getting reality check.

#jo read's hideaway #hideaway chapter 17 #nikova banks #kai mori #the devil's night #the devils night #devil's night #devils night #erika fane #michael crist #damon torrance #the devil's night series

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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The King & I (Pt. 2)

Repost because Tumblr blanked my entire post?? Anyway... here we go again.

HISTORICAL AU (but not necessarily historically accurate bc this is a fanfic not a research project lol): King Henry V & “Street Urchin” reader who takes in and cares for abandoned/orphaned children.

CHAPTER TWO: PERFECT STRANGERS.

“(Y/N)!” The group yelled as I walked through the door. I smiled, feeling the pressures of today’s events melt off my shoulders as the kid’s bright, dirty little faces smiled up at me. Each of them sat at the table, some holding what could hardly be considered plates in their hands.

“Have you been waiting long?” I laughed as the younger kids ran to my sides and hugged me.

“A bit long! You’re late today!” Sebby, my little blonde boy and the youngest of the bunch, called up to me as he clung to my skirt. I smiled down at him, bending down to give him a kiss on the head before ushering him over to the table.

I portioned out the bread while each of them eagerly held a hand up to receive their share. It was getting harder and harder to find ways to divide a single loaf amongst 17 children. We’d taken in three this past week… and while I was overjoyed that more and more lost children began to find their way to our small little hideaway… it was making the hunt for food more and more difficult. But I couldn’t give up on them. No matter how dangerous these outings were becoming. I would sacrifice every last bit of myself for these children.

“Aren’t you going to have dinner, (Y/N)?” Denisse, a beautiful little blue eyed girl asked from the staircase.

I smiled at her and shook my head. “No, no. Don’t you worry about me. You’re all growing! You need to eat to be big and strong. I’m already done growing so I don’t need to eat as much,” I winked at her.

“Do you think I’ll be very tall, (Y/N)?” Sebby asked as he munched on his piece. I smiled and nodded.

“Oh yes! I think you’ll be very tall, Sebby. Even taller than me!”

His eyes grew wide as he chewed. A smile growing across his face.

“Who do you think will be the tallest, (Y?N)?” John, a young boy around 10 years old asked me from the table. Soon all the older boys, those around 10 to 13, stood up next to each other, stretching themselves out as I looked on them, eying each one as I pretended to wonder who… the younger kids laughed as I looked between them, tapping my finger against my cheek as I cocked my head from side to side. The older girls giggled as they came next to the boys, laughing as some already stood taller than them.

“I think… you might all be giants,” I concluded. They all burst into laughter. I couldn’t help but follow as they all began crawling on top of each other, using their hands to measure their heights against one another.

I took a breath of relief… exhaling all of today’s events as I closed my eyes and sunk into one of the small wooden chairs at the table. I listened as the boys argued with the girls over their “tall-ness,” and as the younger children argued over who amongst them would be the biggest when they grew up. I envied their worries.

A moment later, a soft clink sounded in front of me. I opened my eyes and looked down to find a small piece of bread lying on a plate- or what had been one, and was presently half. I blinked, confused, then looked beside me. Scarlett, one of the newer girls, with beautiful red hair in the loveliest of spiraled ringlets stood next to me with a soft smile on her face. I looked back at the piece, then at her.

“Darling, what is this?” I asked her. She looked at me sheepishly, slowly turning her gaze down to the ground.

“You need to eat too,” she spoke, her voice soft against the loud chatter bouncing around the room. My heart swelled as I looked at her. I glanced back at the piece. It was half, if not more than half of the size of the portion I’d pieced for her. I shook my head and grabbed the broken plate, handing it back to her.

“Scarlett, you are very kind, but you have to eat. This is more than half the size of the piece I gave you.” I handed her the plate, but she held her hands up in protest.

“I want you to have it,” she spoke then, rather resolutely. She gazed at me with the sadness and melancholy of a girl who’d seen too much for her age. A look I knew all too well.

Before I could protest again, she began. “You have to be strong too. To take care of us. And you.” She spoke with a wiseness that stunned me. Her small hands grabbed the plate and placed it back down in front of me. “My mama used to give her food to us.”

My heart nearly broke as little Scarlett glanced up at me and wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered in my ear before turning back to sit with her equally curly headed little brother, Blaine.

I ate that piece of bread as gratefully and consciously as I possibly could. Nearly crying as I did.

——-

HAL

“I wouldn’t know your majesty, I’ve never broken my nose before.”

Her eyes stared back at me defiantly. Even with her blood smeared about her chin, I could tell she was beautiful. And something about her fierceness combined with the softness of her features… it excited me.

“Your majesty,” Connelly’s familiar voice called me from my thoughts. I shook my head quickly, not having realized I’d dozed off mid-conversation as I searched between the crowded streets of butchers and buyer’s, secretly hoping the sight of that unruly hair would bob between the masses of unsatisfied bargainers.

“Yes, Connelly, what was it?” I spoke, hoping my tone masked the slight embarrassment I now felt for having been caught off guard. My soul purpose today was to present a face to the people, to gain their trust and their confidence in me. And to observe the quality of their lives. But I couldn’t shake the desire I’d been struck with towards discovering that of one person. The girl from earlier. Who bore a bloody nose with a confidence I’d hardly ever seen from a knight before. As though it were a mockery to the pain she had confessed to have endured worse of. I couldn’t help the shroud of guilt that overcame me at the memory.

“It is getting dark, my Lord. We should return to the palace soon. Are you satisfied with your observations here?” Connelly asked.

‘Satisfied.’ A word used to describe one being pleased with the scope of their objective. Which should have been the object of my visit. But now there was her.

No, no I was not satisfied.

“No.” I declared towards the once five, now four guards behind me. I glanced back, wondering where Matthew had gone since I’d relieved him of his duty. It was quite satisfying to see the old bloke go. He’d been a pain in the ass to everyone. I’m rather surprised someone had not done away with him sooner. But I’d finally had the perfect excuse… or rather she, had given me the perfect excuse. I smiled at the memory of her furious glare. The way her bright, big eyes blazed into Matthew’s face. The expression “If looks could kill” suddenly came to mind, and I couldn’t help but chuckle in amazement.

“Did you see something, My Lord?” Andrew called from his steed. I looked up, shaking my head.

“Come. We shall observe onward,” I turned, starting my horse towards the open fields that surrounded the busy town. But shortly, I halted.

“My Lord? Is something wrong?” Connelly trotted beside me.

“Let us see the public squalor before we make our way towards the village.” I spoke. Connelly stared back at me, unsure what I was getting at.

“Come Sir Connelly. Those people are as much a part of England as those in the village- as those in the square,” I spoke, detaining my steed as I waited for him to catch up.

“My Lord… it is nearly nightfall. It would be dangerous to go into such a place at this hour.” Connelly spoke adamantly beside me.

“They deserve their King’s concern as much as any Englishman, don’t you agree?” I rose my brow towards him. He stared back at me, unconvinced, but the poor man knew all too well how I stuck to my ideas. He soon called the guards to escort me towards the “such a place” of England.

“Let us use caution, My Lord. Aside from the danger, these men are not keen on holding their tongues.” Connelly spoke next to me. I smiled at him, raising an arm to rest on his shoulder.

“I am sure they will say nothing I’ve never heard before.”

As the streets turned grey and drab… I couldn’t help but feel an odd surge of energy run through me. It was undoubtedly ridiculous of me to feel excited about finding a street girl. Me, a King. I was rather shocked at myself. Even so, I couldn’t find it within myself to care for the propriety of it.

This girl… she held such a power to her. I couldn’t help but feel… mystified by it. And I kept thinking… had I met her in my youth, I wonder who I would be now.

——

Trying to round seventeen children to bed was no easy feat. Harder, I think, than stealing our daily bread.

Once I’d rounded them all up- and made my routine hall check for Gilly and Sebby, who were absolutely certain an evil creature roamed underneath the floor boards- I made my way to the front room to tidy up. As I stacked chipped plates into the small, barely hinged cabinet- I couldn’t help but imagine what all the haughty ladies that never failed to scowl at the sight of me would think of such an abode. With it’s missing kitchenware and perpetually dirty tabletops. I wondered… what the King would think?

What?

I shook my head. The King? Where did he come from? I stood, surprised at myself for a moment before turning back and busying myself with the chores.

Once I’d finished, I moved to the window to secure its latch shut, but a strange wave of smooth voices bubbled up against what were usually the sounds of rowdy, drunken nights. I moved towards the door, lifting the latch up to get a better view of the scene outside. The usual patrons strolled down the grimy scene; Madame Belmont’s girls and the usual gang of drunkards who clung to them pathetically. But slowly, one by one, they… straightened up, if that was possible. The girls quickly shifted their skirts, letting them fall over their ankles. The drunken idiots steadied themselves along the buildings lining the street. And soon, everyone was either staring in shock… or were hopelessly inebriated; those who began yelling and throwing their fists towards the unseen visitor.

The small shack we resided in was pushed back down a dark alley way, obstructed between the larger apartments surrounding it. I waited impatiently to see who would come around the wall. When they didn’t show for longer than my curiosity could withstand- I stepped out the door, ready to walk out and observe the commotion for myself. But not after having taken a mere two steps over threshold of the doorway- out of the absolute nowhere, the most shockingly pristine, white stallion I’d ever seen appeared down the alley before me. It seemed to literally glow in defiance against the dreadful world around it. And then, as if the steed alone weren’t shock enough- there, sitting atop him, in all his Godly majesty… was the King himself.

My heart stopped as I stared up at him, sitting high upon his mighty steed. My anxious mind reeled… there could nne only one reason for the King to be in such a place, especially at night. He had come looking for me. He’d changed his mind over the courtesy he paid me earlier and had come to take me away.

The voice inside me screamed to run away- to turn back into the house and hide underneath the floorboards with Gilly and Sebby’s monster. But I only stood there, unmoving. My body refusing to react as it kept me there- bound and vulnerable as the only image reflecting against the one damned street lamp lighting a path right down the middle of the dark alley. It was only the matter of a moment before his gazed followed it down towards me.

I watched every painstaking movement his head made as it scoured over the small street… waiting, just waiting for those impossibly blue eyes to make that inevitable flicker this way. A loud holler came bursting through the calm that had broken over the still night scene. I watched the King snap his head towards whoever had been so foolish as to yell at his Majesty. I couldn’t tell what the man said, but his volume and tone were enough to assume it wasn’t anything pleasant. As the yelling grew closer, its person appeared with it.

Standing there- fists waving, walking with a swagger full of ignorant confidence, was none other than “Sir” Matthew. The guard from earlier. His voice was staggered… his volume rising and falling in between bought’s of obnoxious laughter. And when he seemed to reach the end of his monologue, he spit right before the King’s steed.

“You ungrateful Son-of-a-Bitch! I’ve protected the royal family for years. And now… now you’re all high and might, eh! A real man now! No more riotous Prince Hal with a wench on his lap every afternoon. No… now you’re better than that. Than all of your men! A King…” Matthew slurred at him from below the gallant steed. The King’s mouth moved slowly, and though I couldn’t hear what his calm, even voice responded- I watched the way Matthew’s body literally shook in anger towards it.

“If I ever see that bitch again!” Matthew yelled. Suddenly within my chest, I felt something sharp. Like something had been torn… something had shrunken away. My vision blurred as I stared at them, anything else Matthew was saying just a jumble of loud nonsense in my mind. I took a quiet step back, and sucked in a sharp breath of air. I turned around, and the small part of me that could rationalize the moment told me to be as careful as possible as I made my way inside so no movement would catch their eyes.

I watched Matthew’s figure disappear back down the road as the King sat, still poised high above the grime of the street below.

As I reached the door, giving into my temptation, I peeked back down the alley way. And staring straight back at me was King Henry V. I blinked at him, frozen- until a small voice, quivering and full with tears called out to me from behind the wooden door.

“(Y/N), Scarlett’s not breathing.”

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #Henry V #prince hal #the hollow crown #historical au

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everythingloureed · 3 years

Link

Humphreys was raised in Bridgeton, NJ, and San Antonio, TX. It was said that the family were of part Mexican Native descent. An apparent trans child who played with dolls, and wore girls’ clothes, Humphreys wanted to do people’s hair. As Rachel she graduated in hair-dressing at a cosmetology school in Bayonne, NJ, (north of Staten Island, across the river from Manhattan).

She was a regular at Max's Kansas City, the hip and glam rock nightclub on Park Avenue South. She also frequented the 82 Club on E 4th St which was in transition from a transvestite performance club to a glam rock and then punk club. The New York Dolls did their first show there on April 17, 1974, when they performed in drag, except for Johnny Thunders who refused. They were followed by Wayne County (not yet using the name Jayne) and short-lived glitter bands like Teenage Lust and Harlots of 42nd Street.

It was there at this time that Rachel met Lou Reed, the musician. Lou described Rachel in an interview with Bambi magazine:

"It was in a late night club in Greenwich Village. I’d been up for days as usual and everything was at that super-real, glowing stage. I walked in there and there was this amazing person, this incredible head, kind of vibrating out of it all. Rachel was wearing this amazing make-up and dress and was obviously in a different world to anyone else in the place. Eventually I spoke and she came home with me. I rapped for hours and hours, while Rachel just sat there looking at me saying nothing. At the time I was living with a girl, a crazy blonde lady and I kind of wanted us all three to live together but somehow it was too heavy for her. Rachel just stayed on and the girl moved out. Rachel was completely disinterested in who I was and what I did. Nothing could impress her. He’d hardly heard my music and didn’t like it all that much when he did. Rachel knows how to do it for me. No one else ever did before. Rachel’s something else.”

She moved in with him right away. He was then living in a modest one-bedroom apartment at 405 East 63rd Street. Lou had already written a few songs about trans women, and with the single, “Walk on the Wild Side” (which referred to the Andy Warhol-sponsored trans stars, Candy Darling, Holly Woodlawn and Jackie Curtis) had his biggest hit. Rachel was at this time oscillating. Some days she was Ricky, and others he was Rachel. People who knew Lou and Rachel used either pronoun. One journalist referred to Lou’s ‘boyfriend named Rachel’. Both Lou and Rachel enjoyed the confusion and further muddied the water by wearing each other’s clothes. She was street-wise and spunky in a way that Lou only pretended to be. She was said to always carry a knife, and was good in a fight – which proved useful when a concert at the Pallazzo dello Sport in Rome turned into a riot 15 February 1975.

Lou had been working on his fourth solo album, Sally Can’t Dance – the title track and spin-off single assumed to refer to trans woman, Sally Maggio, who was manager at the 220 Club, another trans bar where Lou went drinking. Sally would in the 1980s open Sally’s Hideaway, and then Sally’s II, again a bar for trans persons and with trans performers. However it was Rachel whose image was on the obverse of the Sally Can’t Dance LP sleeve, drawn as if reflected in Lou’s shades.

She supported him on some of his tours. In New York, they lived for a while in the Gramercy Park Hotel, and then an upscale apartment on East 52nd St at FDR Drive where Henry Kissinger, Greta Garbo and John Lennon had lived. In 1975 they began to frequent the rather grimey but seminal punk club, CBGBs. Lou was recording Coney Island Baby, released January 1976 and several tracks refer to Rachel. At the end of the follow-up tour, Rachel was mugged and assaulted. A doctor was called, who inevitably referred to Rachel as ‘she’, even though Lou was saying ‘he’. As Aidan Levy says:

“Rachel had been contemplating gender reassignment surgery, but the transgender rights movement had not yet solidified, and not fully understanding the nature of the decision, Lou was adamantly opposed to any operations, a growing source of conflict in their relationship”.

Despite this, a friend commented: ““I think that Rachel was the glue holding Lou together, or at least keeping him in the public view in many respects … I know that he doted on her. If there was a light shining, it was the two of them together. It doesn’t mean it was the healthiest relationship in the world.” The cover of Walk on the Wild Side: The Best of Lou Reed, 1977 is of photographs of the two of them.

Rachel acted as road-manager on the next tour, managed the money, and watched over the road-crew. They were in London for their third anniversary and ordered a three-tier cake to celebrate, and Lou gave her two diamond rings. He said:

"Rachel knows how to do it for me, no one else before ever did”.

However by the end of 1977, Lou and Rachel were fighting more and more, and frequently it was about the issue of transgender surgery. She had a date for surgery but backed off as Lou said:

“Well why are you doing that? I love you because of the way you are”.

The title track of Street Hassle, 1978, is about her, and an article in Rolling Stone referred to Rachel as the raison d’etre of the album, although in fact it marked the end of their relationship. Lou moved on, having met Sylvia Morales, who became his third wife in 1980.

Reed completely refused to talk about Rachel after 1978. He desisted and decided to go straight. Both his later marriages were with cis women.

Rachel died in 1990 age 37 at St Clare’s Hospital, which specialized in treating AIDS patients, and she was interred in the gigantic pauper burial site on Hart Island off the Bronx coast (which contains over a million corpses).

Lou died in 2013, aged 71, from liver failure.

LegsMcNeil & Gillian McCain. Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk. Penguin books, 1997: 154-5, 206.

Marc Campbell. "Rachel: Lou Reed’s transsexual muse". Dangerous Minds, 02.06.2013. Online.

Howard Sounes. Notes from the Velvet Underground: The Life of Lou Reed. Doubleday, 2015: 182-4, 187, 189, 191, 192, 194, 195, 202, 203, 205, 208, 212, 213, 214, 215-6, 221-2, 226, 229, 235, 248, 269.

Simon Reynolds. Shock and Awe: Glam Rock and Its legacy, from the Seventies to the Twenty-First Century. William Morrow Publishers, 2016: 271-2.

Aidan Levy. Dirty Blvd.: The Life and Music of Lou Reed. Chicago Review Press, 2016: 221-2, 227, 233, 244, 251-3, 264, 285.

Corey Kilgannon. "Dead of AIDS and Forgotten in Potter's Field: In an untold chapter of the AIDS epidemic, scores of unclaimed bodies were buried in a remote spot on Hart Island. How many exactly remains unclear". New York Times, July 3, 2018. Online.

#lou reed #rachel #Rachel Humphreys

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animerina · 3 years

Text

Your Eyes Are like Starlight-6

Haldir X F!Reader

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24)

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Summary: Haldir and his patrol rescue a woman outside of the forest and bring her to Caras Galadhon. She is allowed to stay to recover from her injuries, both physical and mental. Haldir quickly finds himself as her protector and worries what will happen when she leaves.

Note: Warning eventual smut, minors DNI. I wrote this a while back and it is incredibly self-indulgent. I know I probably screwed up actual lore, but I really enjoyed writing this so I hope you do as well. It was previously posted on A03.

Thank you all once again for the love and support. The poem is Nin Meleth and can be found here: x

All Italics are Elvish.

Chapter 6: Exploring Caras Galadhon

“And this is Lothlorien’s library,” Lindiel exclaimed as she opened the door for her companion.

Y/n stood in awe of the amount of books shelved on the walls. From what she had already seen on their journey to the front doors, this was only one of many levels. Her eyes skimmed over the countless shelves and desks in amazement. No wonder elves were so knowledgeable.

“How can you have so many?” She gasped.

“We have long lives and many interests,” Lindiel teased. “Now come, I want to show you my favorite place in here.”

The two headed down two floors passing many ellyn who were scattered about reading and scribbling silently. Lindiel brought Y/N over to the corner of two shelves. As they approached, the woman realized that the shelves had a small gap between them, enough for someone to slip through. Lindiel ushered her in and she was surprised to see a small nook hidden by the shelves. In the corner was a large window allowing light into the hideaway. There were two chairs along with a window seat carved into the wall. Light blue cushions were strewn about the seats for comfort. Y/N quickly took note of the blonde elleth lounging on the seat, red leather bound book in hand.

“Ah, good morning Y/N,” Alassë nodded in greeting. “Lindiel.”

“Good morning, Alassë. We did not see you at morning meal.”

“We did not see Berendir either,” Lindiel added with a smirk.

“I am afraid we were quite preoccupied this morning,” the elleth confessed, a blush barely dusting her pale skin.

Her admittance caused y/n to blush as well. She hid her face by acting preoccupied with the stack of books by the blonde.

“What are you reading?”

“Yes indeed, mellon nin. What are you reading?” Lindiel asked as she examined the book in Alassë’s hands.

“Romance? Oh poetry!” She exclaimed as she sat beside her. “I love this one.”

“It is very well written,” Alassë agreed.

“May I see?” Y/N asked as she moved the seat closer to the two.

“It is in Sindarin,” Lindiel explained and watched her face fall in disappointment. “I can read you a bit if you would like.”

“Yes, I think I would like that.” Y/N nodded eagerly.

Alassë handed the book to Lindiel and she flipped to the page her favorite poem was on. Taking a deep breath for dramatic effect, she began.

“My beautiful

The moon in my night

The star in my eye

My warrior

The outcry in my silence

The crossing of my road

My love”

“It is simple but so sweet,” the woman smiled.

“Agreed,” the ellyth responded.

“I think if I am to stay here, I should probably learn your language,” the woman stated.

“You are going to stay? For how long?” Alassë asked. She was pleasantly surprised thinking that after healing the woman would want to go home.

“May I tell her?” Lindiel all but begged.

With a sigh, Y/N agreed. “I am sure it will not be a secret for much longer.”

“Haldir has asked her to stay,” Lindiel explained to her friend enjoying the shocked expression that spread across her face. “He has asked to court her.”

Alassë’s jaw dropped, a most unbecoming look for an elf, and if Y/N had not been so shy about the reveal, she would have burst out laughing. The blonde elf recovered quickly.

“I must offer you my congratulations!” She exclaimed, her pitch raising sharply.

“Thank you. Everything has been very fast for me, but Haldir is giving me two years to decide and I really would like to get to know him better.”

“I see. I forget how different humans are in their customs. You would not be able to sense your One if you saw them, but if Haldir believes you are his I would trust his judgement. He is not the Marchwarden for nothing,” the elleth offered.

“I suppose I am just unused to people falling so quickly, especially for me.”

The two elves reassured the woman, speaking highly of her as well as Haldir and his qualities. They spent much longer than they meant to sitting in the nook enjoying themselves and relaxing amongst the books. Alassë and Lindiel took it upon themselves to start teaching her simple Sindarin and Silvan words, promising to teach her more in the time she lived among them.

Before noon rolled around, the group began making their way to the dining hall. Alassë said she would only be grabbing something to take with her as she had afternoon duties. As they headed across one of the many walkways, they heard cheering coming from one of the clearings nearby.

“What is that?” Y/N asked.

Lindiel leaned over the railing, her eyes able to see much farther than the human woman.

“It appears they are having an archery competition. Shall we watch?” She asked the others.

“Let’s,” Y/N agreed. The ladies started towards the commotion until they saw the group of elves lined up. There were targets hung from trees in the distance, some so far, Y/N strained to see them.

“It is Haldir’s patrol,” Alassë noted.

Sure enough, Y/N spotted him walking behind the row of archers, his own bow gripped tightly in his hand. As if he could sense her, which he most likely could, he turned and locked eyes with the woman. Smirking, he slid next to Orophin, knocked an arrow and let it fly. The resounding thunk rang through the clearing when the arrow hit one of the furthest targets. The woman watched in awe at how smooth his movements were. His smirk grew as he met her amazed gaze, only interrupted by the pats on his back from his brothers.

“Show off,” Y/N muttered under her breath with a smile.

Rúmil also spotted the ladies watching and quickly pulled out an arrow from his quiver, spinning it effortlessly between his fingers. He knocked it, pulled back and letting the arrow fly into an equally distanced target. Haldir clapped his brother on the back as the arrow hit.

Y/N was about to ask if they could join the growing audience below, but caught Lindiel’s eyes locked on Rúmil. The elleth could not hide the smile even if she tried. Her eyes followed his movements, filled with mirth and tender fondness. She remembered their conversation about their relationship earlier and without thinking whispered to her companion.

“Do you wish he would ask?”

“More than anything,” she replied lovingly.

Tag list: (If you’d like to get added please let me know.)

@numbxinside

#haldir of lorien #haldir x reader #lothlorien #rumil #orophin #lotr #lord of the rings #haldir #haldir x y/n #lotr imagine

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snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 63]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Let’s do some of this tonight.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since they’d discussed making menus for him him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil would mark the little box on the card corresponding to his opinion. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day. Yet, putting toppings on it like cinnamon and sugar and different fruits had increased its rating easily.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though. What do you want to do?”

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught the language to myself in order to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said when they entered. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.”

Virgil could tell just by listening closely for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile. “Now, I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down below with his eyes trained on the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures, it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walked directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed briefly before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

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Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

“Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

“It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

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“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

#proofread stories #not writing

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