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crysalita · 3 years

Text

Left Behind

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Word Count: 2439

Warnings: Suicide mentioned when Bo is telling the story about Trudy.

I had to admit that I never actually wanted to be here, on a road trip that is, but somehow I had managed to find myself getting an invite from Carly, who claimed there needed to be more girls. I reluctantly agreed to tag along, and so far I was regretting that poorly made decision.

I was a third wheel as I lagged behind Carly and Wade. I felt as if all I had done so far since we arrived in this town was either roll my eyes or sigh at their constant flirting. If I had of known that this is what my day was going to consist of then I would have said no in a heartbeat.

The small town we had arrived in gave me strange vibes, whether it was because the town was oddly empty even though we could hear chatter, or whether it was because of the two men that we had come across.

Bo, the man that works at the gas station, spent most of the time eyeing me down after the run in at the church, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“So, Y/n. What did you think about Bo? He seems to have taken quite an interest in you.” Carly teased, nudging my shoulder.

We were in the gas station looking for whatever part that Wade needed.

“Don’t be stupid, he was just being friendly.” I scowled.

“Coming from a guys perspective, he definitely finds you hot.” Wade spoke up.

I sent him a glare. “Just look for that part.”

“He’s got everything, but a 15 inch. I’ll just have to use a 16 inch.” Wade grabbed a hold of the strap that he needed, but we were startled when we heard another voice.

“Are you planning on stealing that?” When I turned around, I was met with Bo leaning against the door frame, still in his suit and tie. I had to admit that the suit did look good on him.

“No, we just didn’t know how much longer you were gonna be, and you know, we didn’t wanna interrupt again.” Wade rushed out. “But I left you some money on the counter, but you don’t even really have the right size. You don’t have any 15 inches.”

“I do at the house.” Bo replied, not looking in the slightest bit like he was convinced by Wade’s constant stuttering, I couldn’t blame him though, Wade made us look more suspicious than we actually were.

“Look, I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea that we’re in here.” Carly attempted to ease the tension.

“Yeah, we already feel bad enough after interrupting the first time, we just didn’t want to do it again.” I smiled politely. In return, Bo sent me one of his own smiles and gestured for us to come out of the shed.

“No worries. That was in the past. We can move on from that.” Bo replied as he held the door open for us.

“You keep fan belts at your house?” Wade asked.

“I get things delivered there when I’m not here. Look, if you want to hold onto the 16, that’s fine by me.” Bo was looking more agitated by the minute.

“No, it’s okay.”

Bo led us outside of the gas station and we began our journey to the house that Bo lived at. My legs were already tired enough as it was from all the walking we had done, and I honestly wasn’t trying to do anymore.

“So, is it too late to sign Carly up for that beauty pageant?” Wade asked with a smirk on his face.

“Now unfortunately it is, well at least for you-” Bo turned and nodded in my direction. “-Because you have won, hands down.” I blushed slightly at his comment but shook it off quickly as I looked away.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. My gaze landed on Carly who was giving me a smug smile to which I rolled my eyes at.

“That house of Wax is pretty cool.” Wade changed the subject. This caught Bo’s attention.

“You went inside?”

“Yeah, it was unlocked.”

“I did try to tell them they shouldn’t, but they both happen to be very stubborn.” I didn’t dare step foot into the House of Wax. Knowing myself I would probably end up ruining the art in there, and I would never forgive myself if I destroyed someone’s art that they, more than likely, spent hours trying to create. I did manage to get quick look inside when Carly and Wade entered, and it truly was amazing.

“Everything seems to be unlocked ‘round here, don’t it? Thank you for having respect.” I was rewarded with another one of his smiles that really did compliment his face, although he did use quite an odd choice of words as it made him seem all the creepier.

I shared a look between the other two, who were also very creeped out.

“I did get a look inside though, when they opened the door that is, and the wax sculptures are amazing.” I complimented. I was a bit bummed out that I couldn’t see the artwork up close to see their full detail, but my conscious got to the best of me and now I was glad that I didn’t go in.

“Yeah, people used to come and see it from miles away. Trudy was the main artist.” I could imagine the amount of people that I wanted to see it, but for some reason there wasn’t any.

“What about Vincent?” Carly questioned. “I saw his name on a lot of the work.”

“One of Trudy’s boys.”

“That family must be very talented. Are any of them still around? I would love to meet them, and maybe they could help me out with some of my own art.” I commented.

“Oh- no. It’s a horrible story. Trudy’s husband, Doctor Sinclair, he was a doctor. He got his licence revoked for doing surgery’s on the side, you know, stuff that most doctors wouldn’t do. So, he moved him and Trudy out here to Ambrose, made a fresh start in medical practise and Trudy found her calm with the whole wax sculpture thing.” Bo explained as we walked past the House of Wax. “It was her dream to do something incredible here. Then she had a couple of kids-”

“What’s so horrible about that?”

“Trudy got a cyst in her brain, she just started rottin’ away.” My eyes widened as Bo continued the story. It was really starting to take a dark turn. “Couldn’t work no more, she went crazy, and it got so bad, that Doctor Sinclair had to strap her up to the bed. The whole town could hear her screaming from the house. And Doctor Sinclair was so depressed that he couldn’t save her he-” Bo creates a gun with his fingers and pretends to shoot himself in the head. “Blew his head right off.”

“That’s horrible.” I mumbled.

By now we were approaching the last house on the road, meaning this was where Bo was staying. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, making the situation all the more terrifying.

“Hey, uh, why don’t you three hop in, and I’ll go get that fanbelt for ya’” Bo opened the door to his car and gestured for us to hop in.

“No, we actually have some friends picking us up where the roads washed out.” Carly interrupted.

“I’ll give ya’ a lift there. It’s the least I could do then for making ya’ll wait.” Carly and I both turned to Wade who was nodding his head.

“Could I use the toilet?” I asked Bo as Carly hopped into the car.

“Yeah, of course. You said you need to use the can too, didn’t ya?” Bo faced Wade. He then proceeded to ask Carly the same question before he led us into his house.

The house was nothing less than what I expected, not that I expected much. To no surprise, it was quite messy, but I couldn’t hold that against Bo, as he most likely wasn’t expecting guests.

“So, where ya’ headed too anyway?”

“Uh, where just headed to a football game.” Wade answered.

“Bathrooms just down the hall. Let me get out of this jacket and tie, and I’ll get the fanbelt. I have another bathroom upstairs for ya’ to use.” I followed Bo up the stairs as Wade walked down the hall. I began feeling nervous as now I was left alone. “You interested in football?” Bo cocked his head to the side as he looked at me. I found myself staring a little longer than I should have, which Bo took notice of too, as his lips twitched up into a sly smirk.

“No, not really. Just here for Carly.” Bo nodded his head along with what I was saying before he popped another question, a very unexpected question.

“I take it ya’ single than?”

“What makes you think that?” I stammered.

“Well, considering those two are tied to the hip, that would most likely mean that if ya’ were seeing someone, then they’d be 'ere too.” Bo explained as he shrugged off his jacket. “And if it were me, I wouldn’t let ya’ out of my sight. Especially in a town I’ve never been in.” Bo opened a door that revealed to be the second bathroom he owned. I walked in and closed the door and instantly let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

This man was making me feel all kinds of things, and I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

I did my business and exited the bathroom to see Bo waiting outside, this time he was dressed in casual clothing, and no longer rocked a suit and tie. I had to admit that this man could certainly pull off both looks.

“Did you need help getting anything? I don’t mind helping.” I offered.

“That would be nice, thank you.” I followed behind Bo, who led us into the garage that was covered in tools and what I could only assume was car parts.

“Is it always this quiet in town?” I watched as Bo gathered some things and placed them in crate he had. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, so I waited where he had placed down the crate.

“Depends on the day, I guess. Sometimes it can be noisy, believe or not, and some days it’s dead silent. Today just so happens to be one of those days.” Bo mumbled.

All of a sudden the lights were cut off and everything went pitch black. I immediately put my arms out to reach for something to grab a hold of. “Bo?” I held my hand out in the direction of where Bo was last stood. “Bo? Where are you?” I felt his hand come in contact with my own.

“I’m right here, sweets.” I was thankful the lights were off so Bo couldn’t see the blush spread out across my burning face. “I don’t know what happened.” The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed throughout the garage, and then I heard the sound of the horn from outside.

“They must be waiting for us.” I muttered to no one in particular. The lights then turned on and I found myself extremely close to Bo as his chest was almost plastered to my back. “Sorry about that. That was childish.” I apologised I pulled myself away from Bo.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Ya’ get a little scared of the dark, nothing to be ashamed of.” Bo picked up the crate of tools. “I’m going to take this stuff out to the truck. Would you mind finding the wrench for me? It should be in one of the drawers over there.” Bo nodded his head in the direction of where the cupboard filled with drawers were before he exited the garage.

Everything felt scarier now that I was alone and everything around me was silent. I could hear my own breathing with how silent it was, and I hated it.

I searched through the different drawers before I found the wrench that I was looking for.

I began hearing shouting from outside and I quickly made my way outside, only to find the truck driving away and Bo standing outside, the tools scattered across the ground. “Bo, what happened?” I slowly approached Bo who was seething with anger, that was until he turned around to me. His face relaxed as he locked eyes with my own.

“Your little friends just decided to drive off with my truck. I guess they forgot that there was a third one with them.” My mood dulled at his words. How could they just leave me like that? “Hey, don’t let them get ya’ down. You don’t need 'em. Especially after the way they’ve acted today.” That didn’t change the fact that someone that I considered to be my best friend, had just left me behind to run off with her boyfriend, did I ever really mean anything to her. “Listen, I have another truck at the station, if ya’ like, we could walk down tomorrow morning and I could drive ya’ where you need to go.”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” Bo walked back inside, forgetting about the tools that were lying all around.

“You can sleep on the couch for tonight. I’ll get ya’ some blankets to keep ya’ warm. Did ya’ want something to eat?” Bo yelled out as he walked up the stairs.

“I’m good.” I called back. I sat down on the couch and stared off into nothing, this day was going horrible. I sighed as I placed my head into my hands and tiredly rubbed my eyes.

“Hey, ya’ know. I’d love to see ya’ some more. I wasn’t lying when I said ya’ were pretty. Definitely caught my eye.” Bo placed down the blankets on the end of the couch as he sat down beside me.

I found myself blushing for what felt like the millionth time today. “Really? I’d like to see you more too.” I whispered, looking everywhere but the man beside me.

Bo placed his finger on my chin and guided me to look in his direction. “Look at me when ya’ speak. I want to see ya’.”

Before I knew it, we had spent what felt like hours talking on that couch before I eventually got tired and fell asleep, and that was definitely the only good part about my day, getting to talk to Bo.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #sinclair brothers #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax #house of wax x reader #slashers #slashers x reader

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ignitification · 3 years

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I'm glad we could handle this respectfully.

Two questions

Do you think Endeavor will Die in the Future,Like Dabi Kills him?or will he stay alive throughout?

Also I feel like and hope him and Rei Should get a divorce.She should'nt be with someone who's hurt her Physically and psychologically.I think them not being married would be very healthy for them

And In response,People can change but I haven't seen the villians wanna change since they believe they're in the right.you have to want change in order to change.Shigaraki,Toga,Dabi and All for one have shown no signs of wanting to change.this is all my opinion but like They honestly don't wanna change since they believe,due to their pasts,that they're doing the right thing.Dabi has Murdered 30 innocent people,Toga is literally a wanted Serial Who drinks blood like Juice,and Shigaraki Murdered many heroes and ordered his Minions to destroy everything.

Imo,that doesn't look like wanting to change.

I feel like they work well as villians So Horikoshi probably won't redeem them But again I can't predict the future so I'm getting ahead of myself 😅sorry for wasting your time

It was just my two sense

Plus we need to fix hero society but they're doing it in a cruel and hypocritical way

I'd like to address the three points you made in three different sections:

Endeavour probability of staying alive (of which I already talked here, so it will be short)

Rei's involvment with Todoroki Enji

The Three Villains (the three mains) not wanting to change (on which I already hinted at here and here)

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide; violence; self-harm.

1.) Endeavour’s course of life (and action)

To be honest, I think this is the easiest point to address and I’ll refrain from going over and over again the same point. My answer, as before, is no. I do not think that Enji is going to die (refer to the linked before post for a more in depth analysis of why). However, on the question whether Enji Todoroki will still be alive at the end of the manga, I think the answer might be different. I utterly think that where the manga is going so far foreshadows a lot of pain to come. And I’ll let Horikoshi do whatever he plans, but my spider-senses tell me that even if he does survive, Endeavour is unlikely to get a happy ending (or at least a canonically happy one). He will be hold responsible of his actions, and that is the most important thing. As long as he gets on the right path, everything could happen. Especially considering the events of Ch. 300, which might be interpreted as a first step on regaining the real narrative of what went down (and which might be even more cruel than we think) , so this means we are getting at the root of the problem.

2.) Rei’s involvement in Enji’s life

This, on the contrary, is the most delicate point of the post. Rei is introduced as a 'weak' and heavily mentally abused character. She is confined in a hospital and she seems to be closed in her own world so much she does not notice time passing and stares out of the window trying to make sense of the world. Which, on one hand, I think is very fitting for her, but at the same time I am included to think that this is the furthest thing from what Rei' character is supposed to be.

Rei Todoroki is a victim. But she is not weak. She made her mistakes (of which she is aware of and feels guilty about, but that's for another time because Shouto's scar - mental and facial - is a whole lot deal to unpack) and she had way too much time to think. Shouto never held it against her and now, he, together with Natsuo and Fuyumi helped her to regain the confidence she knows Enji took from her. He closed her off in a hospital to prederve her health, but instead he just took off years of her life from her children and viceversa.

However, I am not sure whether Enji and Rei are still married or separated or divorced or whatever. It seems like on paper they are still together, but there is a rift in their relationship.

I mean, look at this panel: Rei is behind her children, looking at Endeavour like the douchebag he is, and telling him promptly that, this, is not about him and that however he might feel, he is not the victim or the one who needs to be forgiven.

I, personally, have never thought much of her character, besides of her being sick, in hospital and trying not to relapse so hard.

The first time we see her, she looks lifeless. They looks listless. And I can't stress that enough, it is not that she did not try to fight it. But accepting that the trauma happened in the first time is a stress for her mental health. But instead of getting worse, Shouto and her family's presence revitalizes her.

Which beings me to the point made in the last panel. She knows that in his shallow way, Endeavour tried to tell her that he is still there, and while he does not want to impose his presence, he will still wait for her when she wants to.

Funny thing, is that we discover is that she does not want him back. She is done with everything that happened and she is ready to take the reigns of her life back. And in order to do that she needs to wash their dirty landry. And she does not care of how this might affect Endeavour, but instead she wants justice, truth and not tears and excuses.

Rei ia going to fight to have her way. Be it out of Endeavour 's life or inside the life of Touya, time only will tell.

And finally point 3.) The Big Three Villains' on change and saviours

I am very hard trying to get through to everyone out there while I say that change is something that comes to you regardless of whether you want it or not. Shigaraki, Dabi and Toga do not recognise that they might be able to change, and that they might be saved. In their minds, fairly, they do not have to change in order to be eligible for salvation. I already stressed this in my other answers, they should not change in order for them to ‘deserve’ being saved. Maybe they do not even want it. But if the chance presents itself, of them being offered a hand, would they dare to take it? Probably not. And this is not because they are happily wasting their time to kill and fuck around, no. It’s because it’s a mechanism ingrained into their minds: Dabi escaped home after he abused and neglected, Shigaraki accidentally killed his family and then was left to himself, and Toga was deemed weird and creepy and just cast aside as trash. Do you see a pattern here? If yes, well congratulations. It’s a quirk-based society, and since their quirks somehow became synonym to their worth, these individuals were deemed not worthy or villains from the get-go and they just choose to embrace whatever life threw at them, instead of just letting go. And let me tell you, that in their cases, letting go would mean die. They all, in some degree, suffer from auto-destructive and self-harm tendencies, which should be telling enough. And if it not, just think about why people behave this way. Why do people feel the need to destroy themselves? They do because they feel like the pain inside them feels a tiny bit lighter if they externate. Shigaraki told Izuku that as this failed society refused and never forgave him, he won’t forgive anyone in return. He does not care about his crimes because apart from those crimes he commits for a reason, he has nothing else going on. He does not have a family to go home to. He does not have a home. He does not have anything apart from the League, his memories hunting him and the eternal stigma of society labelling him as unsavable.

So excuse me very much when I say that they do not want to change and they might be right. Nothing changed, and nothing changes now. The only hope they have to be redeemed, it’s not for the heroes to forget their crimes, and to enjoy further destruction but to understand that the only way someone can help you is if believe in them. Dabi does not think he deserves to be saved. Toga had hopes which were destroyed right after Hawks killed Twice. Shigaraki put everything on the stake because the kid never knew how to genuinely smile. Let us for a moment think what would have happened to Eri if she did not get saved. It’s not hard after all: the kids of the League are all examples of what happens then.

It’s not because they change that they need to be saved. They need to be saved because they need to change.

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

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My Love

Chapter 13

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warnings: Violence, Language

Well, this is the final chapter before the epilogue. For a story I started last August and put away thinking no one would ever want to read, I was proven wrong. I cant imagine I will write another story that I love as much as this one. It turned into something I never planned and if you could see the original outline, it is nothing like this. But I appreciate you all so very much for sticking with it and willing to accept an out of the box plot line. I love each one of you who messaged, reblogged, liked, or commented...like seriously, it was my motivation to keep going and to do better.

A/N: Thank you to @mskaneko for the moodboard above. I saved it just for this chapter because it captures the heart of the main characters and this series so well.

And @burnsoslow I swear to God, you are the bestest friend I could ever have asked for. I'm sure you have just as much of yourself in this as I do. You've not only edited the hell out of this series, but literally dropped what you were doing to do so. There are portions you've written or just made better. I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH...EVER for brainstorming, your ideas, talking me out of my stupid ideas and cheering me on. I hope you always know how much I appreciate and value your friendship and help.

With her heart and mind racing in unison, Riley’s hand rapidly shifted the gears of Maxwell’s black Aston Martin Vulcan. Her knuckles whitened from their tight grip on the steering wheel as she pressed down harder on the gas pedal of the luxury sports car. The V12 engine roared with fervor when they sped up down a straight stretch of dark highway; the momentum caused both she and Maxwell to jerk back harshly into their plush leather seats. Her passenger’s disapproving glare and heavy groan had no effect on her. The only thing on her mind was the impending death that awaited her in the Cordonian harbor ahead.

Riley had no recollection of her first death, nor the physical pain her body experienced from the cyanide she had unwittingly ingested before bed weeks ago. The effects of the poison ravaged every cell in her body and hastily shut off her respiration. Those two tiny pills that Amanda had offered her that day to relieve a headache had consumed and destroyed the organs in her body in less than six minutes. If the message Olivia had revealed to her in a dream less than an hour ago was any indication, this second death would be twice as horrifying.

Recalling the heavenly conversation in her head with the apparently deceased Duchess of Lythikos, Riley saw an opportunity. If she were to believe Olivia’s prognostication and warnings and followed through with her former rival’s directions, was it possible her story could end differently? She had nothing left to lose and everything to gain by finding out. Her fear of dying for the second time, however, was staggering.

A devilish smirk curled Olivia’s bright red lips as she arched a sly brow. “It's time, Riley. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do exactly as I tell you.”

Would this plan even work?

Shaking her head to dismiss the terror that threatened to overcome her, Riley flashed a glance over at Maxwell’s lap. His nimble fingers cautiously attached lead wires from an old cell phone into a c4 pipe bomb they had swiped from the armory. There were only two people she knew who had ever handled explosive devices: one she trusted — Olivia -- and the other she was astonished hadn’t already blown them up. “Maxwell, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Swiftly peeling off a strip of duct tape and biting it in half, he puckered his forehead in deep concentration and wound the strip carefully around the explosive contraption. Pausing a moment to inspect his work, his eyes shot back to her with a flash of uncertainty. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Driving through the entrance that led to the marina, Riley dimmed the car’s lights and pulled into the empty spot furthest away from the vast cluster of docked boats and yachts. Shutting off the engine, she bit the corner of her lower lip and stared blankly at the moonlight’s yellowish glow treading along the ripples of seawater in the distance. As much as she wanted to be brave and strong, believing it was the only way she could get through this, she wasn’t ready. How long would she struggle and claw her way for a single breath as the ache and emptiness in her lungs became something she could no longer fight for?

God, help me, she thought as she closed her eyes and the first stream of tears rolled down her cheeks.

Maxwell placed a comforting hand on her cold and trembling forearm. “Riley. You don’t have to do this. We can turn around right now and --”

“No!” She swiped roughly at the tears that flowed steadily. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I came back, Maxwell. This was always meant to be temporary, and I agreed to it knowing full well the repercussions of that decision. Olivia warned me: This is the only way to ensure Amalas doesn’t hurt Liam or Ellie after I’m … gone.”

Riley’s head fell back against the headrest, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. She rolled her head sluggishly to the right to catch Maxwell’s worried eyes still fixated on her. She drew a shaky breath. “Promise me something, Max.” Her raspy voice was barely above a whisper, and he nodded back with his full attention. “Make sure when Liam gets here … well, just … just don’t let him get himself killed trying to save me. Can you promise me that?”

Maxwell ordinarily lived for intense moments of danger, but even this was beyond his level of comfort.

He turned away from her. Nothing made sense to him at that moment as he shook his head and gazed silently out his window, not knowing what to say to her. His best friend was minutes away from another death, and he was nowhere near ready to face her absence in his life again, especially one based on a dream. And somehow he could sense his friend knew more than she was telling him.

This was insane.

“Maxwell?” Riley pleaded. “Please.”

He spun his head back around to face her again, wanting nothing more than for her to change her mind and return to the palace. Unable to avoid her plea, he huffed with a half-hearted smile, “You already know I will. That’s not even something you have to ask.”

Riley breathed a heavy sigh of relief before reaching behind her seat for the leather satchel she brought. “Then let’s do this.”

Maxwell set the timer for 15 minutes, which would allow her enough time to walk to the small yacht where Amalas awaited Riley’s arrival and for the boat to pull away from the marina. The last thing they wanted was for someone innocent to be harmed when the pipe bomb detonated. Whatever plan Olivia had shared with Riley was clearly upsetting to the woman he thought of as a sister and yet, he trusted it. As Maxwell gently lowered the explosive into the bag she held open for him, he caught a tiny glimpse of hope behind the dread in her eyes that suggested this was bigger than he realized.

As Riley shrugged off her sweater and placed it inside the bag to conceal its contents, Maxwell noted the time on his watch. The minutes were passing by faster than she realized when she opened her door and gave her passenger a knowing look.

“You know what to do, right?”

Maxwell nodded. “Wait for Liam and Drake to get here. Search the port side of the boat after it explodes for you. Aaaand …” He smacked his forehead several times to remember the last point.

Riley’s brows bumped together in a scowl. “And don’t let anything happen to Liam!”

He threw his hands up. “Okay, okay, I got it!” Pausing for a moment, he watched Riley step out of the car and adjust the satchel on her shoulder. “Riley, wait!” he called before hurling himself across the console to look out the driver's side door.

She leaned down into the car. “What is it, Max?”

“Will I ever see you again?” His voice cracked.

Straining to hold back her own tears, Riley closed her eyes and took his sadness to heart. She wanted to give him the truthful answer: She didn’t know what the outcome would be, only that Olivia was working on it. There were a million things that could go wrong, and she had no control over the situation. She opened her eyes back up, barely able to make out Maxwell’s downcast face in the darkness, and smiled softly back at him. “I hope so.”

After closing the car door, she sucked in a deep breath and exhaled steadily to calm her nerves before making her way to the docks. As she made long strides towards the marina, she pulled out her phone and glared at the text message Amalas had sent to her with the location of her boat. She shut her phone off again, not wanting to trigger the explosive before it was ready.

Through trepidation, her heart pounded.

Through adrenaline, her body shook.

As waves crashed and sprayed along the shore, her senses heightened. She shivered from the cold sea air that swept over her bare arms causing her teeth to chatter. Tiny droplets of rain washed away the sheen of sweat that clung to her blanched face from her hairline down. No matter the outcome -- whether Olivia could find some way for her to stay or not -- she was going down on her terms. If the only thing that happened in the next few minutes was guaranteed protection for Liam and Ellie, Riley won.

“It’s about time you got here.”

Recognizing that voice from their many encounters in ballrooms and a Texas bar, Riley tossed a glance over her shoulder. The thin silhouette of power and intelligence stood with a hand on her jutted hip and a power suit that matched her over-inflated ego. Riley curled her lips while the weight of anticipation for revenge built in her chest.

Standing on the deck at the stern of her small yacht, Amalas cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t have all night, Amanda. Are you just going to stand there?”

Riley turned on her heels, clutching her stomach protectively, and stepped up the wooden planks that led to the deck of the yacht … and her destiny.

Amalas gestured for Riley to have a seat while she poured a glass of champagne for herself.

Riley the bag from her shoulder and placed it at her feet. Before taking a seat on the cushioned vinyl sectional that lined the railing of the boat, she swiped away the tiny drops of drizzle that had sprayed in under the canopied roof. She crossed her legs and tried to get comfortable. “So … you needed to see me?”

Amalas laughed wryly and placed the champagne back in the ice bucket. She took a sip and twisted around to face her adversary. “I did need to see you.” She lifted the glass to her lips and spoke coolly. “Queen Riley.”

Internally, Riley laughed at being called out. At this moment, it didn’t matter what Amalas knew, nor did it matter that Amalas thought she had the upper hand in the situation. You’ll be overcooked fish food in about five minutes, bitch. Riley shrugged her shoulders with a cocky grin. “I suppose my little secret is out of the bag. I assume you have a mole in my palace.”

Amalas chuckled sardonically as she casually took a seat on the opposite end of Riley. “Of course I have a mole in your palace. I had to see that my dear cousin was fulfilling her obligations. Imagine my surprise, though, to find out what that cocksucker, Neville, did to her … such a shame. But, I will say, it certainly helped that you and your king weren’t exactly discreet in your ... activities. And someone may or may not have overheard a discussion or two between your little squadron of BFFs.”

Riley felt the boat shudder under her feet as it pulled away slowly from the marina. She took in a deep breath and placed a hand over her tummy. Shit … this is it. Hold on, little one; we’ll be together soon. Everything was occurring quickly and exactly as Olivia had told her it would. Liam will be here soon.

She tilted her head to face Amalas, whose eyes swept over Riley’s shoulder. Before Riley could follow her gaze, a strap of leather wound tightly around her neck from behind, cutting off her airway. She instinctively tried to fight her way out of it but knew it was useless. Her bulging eyes watched Amalas smirk, swirl her champagne, and down the rest of her bubbly drink.

“I always win, Riley. Even if I have to kill you over and over again.”

The guard who was strangling Riley understood this statement as his order: “When you’re finished and the Queen of Cordonia is dead, toss her overboard.” The guard nodded as he continued to tighten the strap, and the Queen of Monterriso walked away, feeling confident of her victory.

____________________

Maxwell shuffled along the wet pavement, his watery eyes never once looking away from the yacht Riley boarded as it left the marina. He had never wanted to break down more than he did at that moment. Knowing that she was scared, that she was alone, and that she had just sailed off to her death -- it was too much for him.

And he had a front-row seat for all of it.

Frustrated that he was losing sight of the boat in the darkness, he cursed under his breath and considered hijacking a vessel to go after Riley himself. That was, until the screeching of tires in the distance pulled him away from his thoughts. He turned to see a truck speeding toward him. Maxwell knew exactly who it was and flailed his arms to catch their attention.

Liam jumped out before Drake had a chance to stop the vehicle completely. Barrelling towards Maxwell, his white button-up still stained with Neville’s blood, Liam was noticeably in full panic mode.

Skidding to a halt, Liam grabbed both of Maxwell’s arms and jerked him closer in desperation. “Where is she, Maxwell?”

He nodded to the open waters. “She left several minutes ago with Queen Amalas.”

Liam glanced out with his fist balled in his hair. “Fuck! Why the hell did you let her go?”

“I tried to stop her, Liam -- I swear it -- but she wouldn’t listen to me!”

Drake tugged on Liam’s elbow and pulled him away. “Come on. You can stand here and argue with Maxwell all night … or we can get a boat and go after her.”

Liam’s eyes darted around the marina until he set his sights on a cabin cruiser several rows over. He jerked away from Drake and hammered his feet in its direction. Hoisting himself up and over the railing, his friends following behind him, he banged frantically on the cabin door with both fists. Drake and Maxwell searched the aft deck for something to shatter the glass of the door with until the distinct click of a lock and a middle-aged man in nothing but his boxer shorts appeared in the doorway. The man appraised Liam and scowled. “Who the fuck do you think you are, banging on my door in the middle of the night?”

Liam pushed his way past the man, and Drake grabbed the occupant by his arm before he could go after him. “That’s the King of Cordonia. You can either get your ass off this boat now -- or I can put you off. Your choice.”

Maxwell unraveled the ropes from the cleats on the dock that secured the boat and made his way to the helm. Drake started the engine and maneuvered them away from the marina. Liam turned to Maxwell when he heard him approaching. “Which way do we need to go?”

The youngest Beaumont wasn’t entirely sure. Under the blanket of darkness, his sense of direction was skewed. Maxwell pointed in the path he last recalled, knowing that the explosive would ignite any second. “Head northwest … but there’s something you really need to know.”

Before Liam could respond, his breath hitched, and a sense of emptiness and a hollowness in his chest suddenly overcame him. It was like one of the greatest parts of himself had suddenly slipped away.

Again.

Liam didn’t need to ask himself what it was; he already knew. It was that same feeling he’d had in a chilly hospital room almost four months prior. And as much as he wanted to shake that feeling, to simply deny it was there ... the heart didn’t lie.

His love was gone.

She had returned, just as she wrote she would in the letter to him. Just as she told him from the very beginning would happen. Except this time, she was taking a tiny part of himself with her, one he hadn’t known they’d created until Drake showed him the final message Liam would ever receive from his beloved wife.

As a lone tear slipped down his cheek, he wept to himself, “Don’t be scared, love. I’m coming to get you. Both of you.”

_______

Riley’s arms fell listlessly to her sides. Her lungs now completely empty of oxygen and her heart no longer beating, the guard unraveled the strap from her neck, leaving behind a deep red ring on her pale skin.

Adhering to the orders issued to him, the guard lifted her lifeless form with ease. Her brown eyes were void of expression as they stared blankly into nothingness. Her head bounced loosely in his arms with each step closer to the railing. Without hesitation or compassion, he tossed her like a rag doll into the tranquil waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

The body clung to the surface, bobbing along with the gentle waves.

Riley’s soul departed from the shell she had inhabited: the body of her killer. For the first time in over a month, she felt like herself again. Her skin bronzed and her hair darkened. The flatness of hips and chest she had grown accustomed to grew curvier once again. An aura of radiance and warmth surrounded her.

Approaching the heavens from where she came, Riley smiled down at the tiny infant curled into her arms. If she didn’t know better, she would swear it was Ellie. ”Hello, you.”

“I see you finally made it.”

Riley chuckled. “Good to see you too, Olivia.”

Olivia crossed her arms and eyed the baby curiously. “I see you couldn’t keep Liam off you this time, either.”

A giggle escaped Riley’s lips as she looked down at the bundle again and caressed the soft downy curls that covered their tiny head.

She glanced back up to her friend. “I miss Liam and Ellie already. I love them so much, Olivia.”

The duchess placed a hand at the top of Riley’s back and guided her forward. “I know you do. The kind of love you shared together never goes away … I don’t entirely understand it, but I knew it was you in that ballroom by the way he looked at you. By the way you looked at him. It was slightly nauseating.”

“Just slightly?”

“Fine, it was thoroughly disgusting. Satisfied?”

Riley rolled her eyes in amusement and chuckled. “Even in death, you’re still the same Olivia Nevrakis we all know and love.”

Olivia waved her hand dismissively with a groan. “Well, this place is entirely too … cheerful and pleasant for my taste. I’ll have to oversee some changes to all this daily merriment.”

“Good luck with that,” Riley snickered. She stopped walking and turned to Olivia with a knowing look. “Soooo ... what happens now? Were you able to ... you know?”

Olivia looked to the lighted pathway. Riley followed her gaze with apprehension, her eyes demanding an answer to the question.

“It’s time to go, Riley.”

“Where?”

______________

Drake held tightly to the steering wheel as the boat hit a melee of turbulent swells. The explosion in the distance made it easier to track the location of Amalas’ boat, but the choppy waters were difficult to drive on.

Liam stood heartbroken but silent, wearily watching out the glass panel in the boat's front. The debris that burned and spread across the sea lit up the black sky. And directly before that rubble, according to Maxwell, he would find the body of a woman who meant nothing to him. She was just a temporary placeholder for the woman he loved with all of his heart and soul.

In his mind, he knew Riley and their baby had returned to join his mother. That finding the body that belonged to Amanda Talbert would be just that: Amanda.

Riley Brooks rested under an apple tree at the edge of the garden maze where he had laid her to rest months ago. She would forever belong to the ages.

She had returned to save him from his anguish. His despair and loneliness.

But mostly from himself.

And she left tonight, having saved him and their daughter from an evil plot.

What was it about his wife that she could defy life and death to save him? It didn’t surprise Liam; Riley had rescued him the first night they met. Now she had given her last breath to do so again.

The heat from the mangled, burning boat and its debris was intense. Drake steered as close to the rubble as was safe to do so and dropped the anchor.

Liam took a deep breath, feeling the weight of sorrow pressing against his chest and the hands of his friends’ comforting grasps on his shoulders.

The three men exited the cabin together and stepped onto the aft deck. Each man scanned the waters that were lit brightly by the soft glow of a thousand twinkling stars, a silvery moon, and the orange flickers of nearby flames. Even with Maxwell describing the area Riley told him they would find her, it was proving to be an impossible task.

But not one of them was willing to give up.

This woman wasn’t even Riley, but it didn’t matter. For Maxwell, Drake, and especially Liam, she was proof that what took place the last few weeks was real. That what they felt in their hearts was true.

“Liam!” Drake tapped his best friend's arm and pointed to remnants of boat pieces. ”I see her. Right there.”

Liam squinted, not really seeing what Drake was pointing to at first, until she finally came into view. He stood there, frozen, not wanting to see her like that, not ready to accept what was obvious now: Riley had left him again.

“I … I can get her, Liam,” Maxwell offered through a sniffle and a wispy cry. “I’ll be gentle.”

Liam smiled softly back at him and shook his head. “I know you would, Maxwell. I appreciate that.” He reached down and removed his shoes, tossing them to the side. “But this is something I feel I should do.”

Liam climbed over the railing and stepped off into the water under the watchful eye of his friends on board, who were ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.

Swimming through the serene waters that had a tinge of warmth from the surrounding fires, Liam made his way through the littered sea. All around him, black plumes of smoke billowed from pieces of fiberglass and plaster. The air was thick with the pungent odor of sulfurous diesel fuel.

He didn’t understand why these actions meant so much to him. Yes, this woman was proof of the spiritual connection he had shared with his late wife, but she was also the one who took her from him. Why did he feel so drawn to her at this moment? Why did he feel he had to be the one to rescue her from a watery grave? He could very well leave her there, knowing it was what she rightfully deserved for what she had done to Riley.

For what she had done to him.

Liam recognized her clothing as she lay still, face down, on the surface of the water. Wrapping one arm around her, he attempted to swim back but found it difficult to do with one arm. Drake, noticing this, tossed out a rope and held onto the other end. Liam wound his wrist around it and began the slow journey of being pulled back to the boat.

_________

“Where am I going, Olivia?” Riley asked with a toothy grin. “Am I staying here or were you able to help me?”

Olivia smoothed down her red sequin gown with a mischievous gleam in her bright green eyes. “Never underestimate a Nevrakis, Riley. I told you I would find a way for you to stay and ... I did.”

Shocked to hear those words, that she would return to her family and friends, Riley let out an elated sob. “Are … are you serious? I’m going back? I’m really going back?”

Olivia nodded. Her thin red lips twisted into a satisfied smile.”Yes. You’re going back.”

“And my baby too?”

“Package deal, Riley. And before you ask … this isn’t temporary. When you return, it’s a done deal. It’s final. The big guy doesn’t want to see you back here for a very long time.”

Riley laughed through her tears of joy. “I sure hope I don’t let him down, then.”

“Heh. Me too.” Olivia turned to face her, her features more solemn now. She motioned behind Riley. “Now ... Your Majesty, I believe it’s time for you to go. Liam’s waiting for you.”

Riley gave Olivia a small smile. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you’ve done.”

“Don’t even bother trying.” The duchess shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just sorry I’ll miss you two trying to explain all of this to people. I may have to sneak out of this joint and see what you come up with.”

Riley laughed before her expression grew more thoughtful. “Goodbye, Olivia.”

She smiled back affectionately. “Goodbye, Riley.”

____________

Drake and Maxwell reached over the rails and looped their arms around Liam, pulling him up to the deck.

Exhausted and gasping for a refreshing breath that didn’t include saltwater and ash, Liam collapsed to the floor. Amanda was still wrapped protectively in one arm, her face nestled against the crook of his neck.

Winded, Drake and Maxwell hunched over with their hands resting on their knees.

As the crackles and snaps of fires echoed softly in the background, a brilliant light glowed from the sky and illuminated Amanda with a golden haze.

With eyes wide and mouth agape, Maxwell fell to his knees, speechless. Drake took a half-step forward, his eyes full of astonishment and wonder.

Liam could feel the warmth against his skin and naturally angled his head toward it. As the light faded away, his blue eyes met her brown ones. It was the same two pairs of eyes that had locked on each other in a New York bar two years ago. They shared a silent gaze charged with emotion and passion. It both electrified him and made his heart flutter. Liam studied her eyes, her radiant smile, her face that was as beautiful as a sunrise.

She looked like his Riley. She felt like his Riley.

With his eyes brimming with tears and love, he swallowed over the lump in his throat and closed his eyes. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

A sweet smile emerged on her lips, and she brushed her thumb over his damp cheek. “No, my love. You’re not dreaming.” Her voice spoke softly and tenderly. “Open your eyes, Liam.”

#liam x mc #liam x riley #the royal romance #trr #My Love #bbrandy2002 #king liam #Riley Brooks #tw suffocation #tw murder #tw death #tw strangulation #tw drowning

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klynn-stormz · 3 years

Text

The Snow Falls Quickly

Merry Christmas @cocohook38, I'm your secret santa this year for @cssecretsanta2020! I hope that you have a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful weekend! Here is your gift, I really hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Killian’s nightmares since returning from the underworld have been getting worse. When they end up with him sleepwalking into a snow storm Emma decides enough is enough. She’s on a mission to make sure her pirate knows what he means to her. Though first she has to find him.

AO3

Killian was confused, main street was completely empty. It was evening out, the sun had set not long ago, but still even Granny’s diner stood dark and silent. He kept walking, waiting for someone to call over to him. He hadn’t been back from the underworld that long, they finally had a moments peace, and he hadn’t had much rest. Plagued with nightmares of his time as a Dark One and of the underworld, he had trouble sleeping. Even more troublesome was when he had found out he had been sleepwalking. Emma found him in the kitchen mumbling and seemingly fighting something. He couldn’t sleep much after that, making sure to work himself into exhaustion to sleep a dreamless sleep for a couple hours at a time. The town appeared to be abandoned now, but it must be his imagination, his tired brain playing tricks on him.

While he longed to go and find where everyone was, he didn’t know how he’d be received. He had been a Dark One, the thing he had hated and hunted for centuries. The things he had done, how easily he had given in, weighed heavy on his heart. Now Emma was left to deal with him, to try to move him forward. She had suggested seeing Archie to try and work through his thoughts, but he couldn’t bring himself to go, perhaps he didn’t deserve to be saved. When Zeus had brought him back, he had been elated, he could finally be with Emma. However, the reaction everyone had to his return had been… less than receptive. He understood he’d been sent back at a delicate time, Robin’s death was not easy on anyone, but the only one who seemed happy he was back was Emma. Perhaps they hadn’t actually forgiven him for any of his misdeeds. Perhaps he deserved that.

“Of course, you do.” An eerie voice whispered through the night. “You think you deserve anything?”

Killian spun towards the voice, sword in hand, only to be met with an empty street and flickering lamp post. Hearing voices was never a good sign, it was time to go home. He started for his and Emma’s home at a quick stride, his eyes focused on his surroundings.

“Do you really think you can run from us?” A new voice now, higher in pitch, giggled.

He quickened his pace.

“Aw, he thinks he can go back home. Home? You think they want you there? You think anyone wants you there? It’s not your home, it’s theirs and you’re intruding.”

The last voice had him sprinting down the street, if he could just get to the house, everything would be alright. He was almost there, the lights on in the windows, Emma waiting up for him again. And then everything disappeared. He was standing in an emptiness, no up, no down, no here or there. All alone. His sword still in hand and ready to strike he rotated around, looking for whatever monster seemed to think he was prey.

“You won’t find us.” Once of the voices sang out.

“Show yourself coward.” Killian spat out, his heart pounding.

“Why should we, when you already know who we are… dearie?” The last voice had ice running through Killian’s veins. It couldn’t be, it wouldn’t be, he wouldn’t let it.

“Did you think you could get rid of us that easily? Did you think we wouldn’t find you?” The voices came together, whispering their bloodstained words around him.

The dark ones, those voices that had haunted his waking days. His body shook involuntarily, he took a breath and gripped the sword hilt tighter, they wouldn’t beat him.

“This is a dream.” His voice didn’t waver, though inside he screamed. “You’re not real, and you’re not here. I just need to wake up.”

“Oh, do you now?” The voices laughed, “Go on then, wake up.”

Try as he might, he couldn’t wake up. A cold dread washed across him. It couldn’t be real, how was it possible that it was back. The voices wrapped around him like a cloak, he felt like he was suffocating.

“Did you think it was that easy? Did you honestly think you were rid of us?”

“Leave me alone.” Killian gritted his teeth.

“Maybe it was a trick, maybe it was a dream.” The voices volume dropped to a whisper, echoing in the void. “You made yourself believe you had died a hero, that you were brought back because you deserve to be. Would you like to see what you’ve actually done?”

The scene changed to Storybrooke, but not how he’d last seen it. Buildings destroyed, roads cracked, trees felled. With utter horror Killian turned in a slow circle. The smell of smoke and death permeated the air. He stared at the fallen bodies around him and broke. He fell to his knees as his heart shattered into a million pieces. What had he done, what had he become?

“You did this. You think you’re good? You think you’ve changed? This is what you’ve become.” The voices swirled in the smokey air. His hand came up to clutch his head, covering his ears. He couldn’t reconcile the reality, he couldn’t believe he had done it, and yet it appeared he had. He had nothing now. The first tears began to fall.

As abruptly as the scene had change from the void to here, it shifted again. His arms were painfully yanked away from his head, he heard and felt a snap as they protested the movement. His head shot up and took in his new world. The underworld. Relief pushed through the pain, this had to be a dream then, he hadn’t hurt anyone. His relief was cut of by another punch of paid as a fist connected with his face. He winced as blood tracked down his face. Looking up he met Hades grinning face.

“Didn’t think you’d be rid of me that easy, did you?” Another blow landed on his cheek, was that crack the sound of his jaw breaking? “I wasn’t finished having fun with you!”

The torture lasted for what seemed like hours. Killian’s body began to numb with the pain. His vision faltered and blood dripped steadily down his face. He had long since stopped screaming in agony, his throat raw from it. When Hades finally left him, he sagged down in his chains and quietly begged it to be a dream. It would be the worst one he’d had, but if this was real. If him being brought back to life by Zeus, being able to be with Emma again, had been a trick… well he didn’t know if he could handle that knowledge. From his slumped position he spotted a wire, one that had been broken off from the cage he was in.

His body protested as he reached to pick it up. With a quick glance around to make sure he was alone, he set to picking the lock. It took precious minutes, the wire slipping from his lips multiple times as he shook with the effort, but finally his hand was free to pick the lock that chained his brace to the ground. When he was free, he stood up and nearly blacked out. Steadying himself against the cage walls, he breathed deep until he was sure he’d stand firm. The cage was easy to pick, he was out within a minute and running down a hallway he wasn’t quite sure where it led too.

The tunnel darkened and narrowed, soon he was just running through the emptiness again. A light appeared at the end and he knew if he could just make it to the end, everything would be alright. As he ran, he began hearing voices, from whispers to shouts.

“Nothing but a Pirate.”

“How can I trust you now.”

“You thought you could ever be a hero? Be anything?”

The voices only grew louder, shouting every insecurity, ever insult he’d heard. And they hit their mark. Were they right? He’d thought so, time and time again he’d tried to be better, yet he always seemed to fail. Killian could see the light fading; he would never make it. In despair he crumbled to the ground. He would never make it back to Emma, maybe he never had.

~~~

Emma woke to a quiet home in the middle of the night. For a moment she let herself lie there, soaking in a feeling of… well not peace, but close. Things hadn’t been easy since the Underworld trip, but with Killian back at her side she could rest a little easier. She turned to face him in bed and frowned when she found his side cold and empty. Where was Killian? Sitting up she looked towards the bathroom but found no light on there. His hook was still on the nightstand with his brace. Any peaceful feeling she’d had melted away into panic. In a rush she jumped from the bed and, in sleep shorts and a t-shirt, ran down the stairs. He was no where to be found. She focused on breathing as her heart pounded in her ears. He’d been having nightmares ever since he’d gotten back, even sleepwalking a few times, but never had he left the house, and he’d never left the house without his brace.

Grabbing her coat and hat from the rack and boots from the shelf, she raced to figure out how to find him. A tracking spell! She hadn’t used her magic much since being the Dark One, it made her feel weak and sick, but this was for Killian. Focusing as much as possible she whispered a spell on the jacket he wore, hoping to all the Gods in the universe she would find him okay. The coat lifted into the air and began to move. She followed it, closing the front door of their home with a wave of her hand, her eyes never leaving the coat.

It was a cold and snowy night. The moon was somewhere behind a blanket of white snow clouds. Luckily the brightness of the clouds made it easier to watch her step as she followed the coat at a run. Snow was falling heavily, the flakes big enough you could see their shapes without trying. There was already at least 2 inches on the ground and it was piling up quickly. The coat made a sharp turn into the woods, if she wasn’t terrified before, she certainly was now. How far had he gotten? And why hadn’t she woken up when he left? She new without a doubt he did not leave of his own volition. Whether sleep walking in a nightmare or dragged away by Stroybrooke’s newest villain of the week, she knew he was in trouble.

It took another 15 minutes of searching, though it felt like hours to Emma, she had forgotten her gloves and long since felt the numbness spreading through her fingers and legs. The coat hung to her knees and gave her a little bit of warmth, but with the cold settling in and her panic to find Killian rising, her magic wasn’t working well. Even if she did find him, she had no idea if she’d be able to transport them back to the house. The coat began to slow and she picked up her pace to walk next to her, her eyes searching for a figure standing out between the bright snow and the shadows of the trees in the night.

She nearly tripped over him. While the snow aided some in the light, it wasn’t enough for her to find him without help. She stopped and for a moment she thought her heart might have too. He was nearly covered in snow. Face down and crumbled as if he had been thrown, he lay in only his black sleep shirt and pajama pants she had insisted he buy a week ago. Was he breathing? Was he still alive? She couldn’t bare to lose him again, not after everything they’d gone through.

“Killian?” Her voice shook as she knelt down in the snow. “Killian, please wake up.”

Frantically now she began to brush the snow off his face. His black hair gleamed against the snow, his face was pale and his lips nearly blue. She needed to get him inside and get him warm now. How could she? She looked around at the empty woods, begging for a miracle. Her head snapped up again as she recognized a part of the woods. They were near a cabin, a cabin! She didn’t know if it had any electricity, or food or anything, but it was worth a shot. She took the coat from where it still hovered above Killian’s body, and laid it over him. She quieted her mind and focused on her emotions, knowing that was the only chance she had at getting enough magic to help them.

The thought of losing Killian seemed to work and the coat wrapped tighter around him, slipping beneath and nearly pulling him from the snow. With a quick kiss to his forehead, she stood up and grabbed the jacket, beginning to pull in the direction of the cabin. She could be wrong, it might not be there, but she wouldn’t let herself think on that long. This was her only chance. Glancing down at his face, she pulled at the coat faster. After nearly 10 minutes of dragging him through the thick snow, she saw the cabin. It was still a ways off, set in a small clearing. She could feel the first aches of relief, and exhaustion. Emma gritted her teeth and continued to drag her limp pirate towards safety.

It seemed that right at the threshold her magic gave out. The coat loosing it’s sparkly and flattening on the stairs. Emma opened the door and turned to pull Killian the rest of the way in. Once he was in and she could close the door, she looked around. It was a small, nearly barren cabin, the dark wood of the trees outside had been used to build it. The windows had long since been frosted over. In the corner was a larger fireplace, with wood stacked neatly by it. A small couch sat across from the fire, old and worn, fabric tearing along the seams. Emma walked over to the fireplace and begged the fire to start quickly. It only took a few minutes before the flames were high and heating the room.

Emma quickly dragged Killian to lay next to the fire, her exhaustion was beginning to deepen and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to stay awake. Once he was settled, she set about looking around the cabin for blankets. She found a small kitchen, barley room for the stove and pantry, but the pantry was stocked with canned food. Glancing out the small window to see the wind and snow picking up again, she was grateful they had food for however long they needed to stay here, bottled water was found underneath the sink, more relief. In a small bedroom just off the front room she found a pile of blankets. She grabbed all that she could carry and made her way back out. Kneeling next to him Emma began to undress him, knowing that if she didn’t get him out of the soaked clothes, her work might be for nothing. She chuckled to herself at what he might say if he was aware she was undressing him. She was sure she’d hear it when he woke up.

Undressed and bundled up in at least three blankets, Killian remained unconscious, she would have to hope he woke up soon. Glancing down at herself she realized she was still only in her t-shirt and sleep shorts, and she was freaking cold. She peeled off her useless coat and hat, the icy wetness seeming to burn her skin. Hanging them to dry on the couch with Killian’s clothes, she took the rest of the blankets, burrowed under the ones wrapping Killian, and laid them over the two of them. Body head was good right? She thought she’d read that somewhere, then had a brief flashback to when he pulled her out of the ice wall. He’d hung onto her so tight, lifting her off the ground and carrying her to the car. She remembered how good it felt to be in his arms, though she would never admit that out loud. He had barely left her side that night while she recovered. Emma looked up at him, brushing his hair back and kissed his jaw. He loved her, she loved him, it was time to put a stop to his fears and nightmares. She cuddled into him, and finally slipped into sleep.

~~~

Killian wakes up scalding hot, sweating and confused. He doesn’t open his eyes right away, still worried he’s back in that horrible nightmare, at least what he hopes was a nightmare. He takes stock of his body first, aches in his left shoulder and down his arm are the most prominent. It brought him temporarily back to the underworld portion of that dreamscape, his arms had been chained down roughly, he wouldn’t be surprised if it had yanked his shoulder out of place. That wasn’t a good sign for it being just a nightmare. Something was laying across his chest, it felt like an arm, and he realized that something was currently resting on his aching shoulder as well. He finally took a chance to open his eyes and pray he was home. He wasn’t.

Wood ceilings greeted him when he looks up, definitely not home, then where? He looked to the side and found himself next to a stone fireplace with a small fire burning, close to burning out it seemed. He looked to his other side and found Emma was curled on her side against him. A restless look on her face as she slept. Lines on her forehead creased slightly, her mouth turned down unhappily. He looked at her beautiful face, and was grateful that he was with her. Whether this was a dream or not, it was the best thing he’d been through in the past few hours. He had the urge to brush the blonde hair away from her forehead and caress her cheek. As he moved to do just that he realized two very important things. One, he was most assuredly not wearing a stitch of clothing underneath all those blankets. Two, Emma Swan’s very naked body was currently tangled with his.

The realization had him jolting slightly and beginning to look around for clothes, though he couldn’t turn his head much, nor peak over the mountain of blankets very well. He was debating on whether to move or not when Emma groaned and began to stretch. As she did so a leg came cross his body to adjust her position, her shoulders moved forward to dull the aches in her back. She mover her hand from where it was under her head onto his chest. Killian was pretty sure now he’d died and gone to heaven, there couldn’t be a better explanation for this brilliant, beautiful woman next to him.

“Killian?” Emma murmured groggily, her head tilting up to look at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“Aye love, I’m here.” He answered back. Faster than he had time to follows she was up and practically straddling him, leaning over him with the blankets over her shoulder and a worried look in her eyes. And she was most definitely not wearing clothes. Killian might like to flirt with her uncontrollably, but he was still a gentleman, his eyes stayed firmly fixed on her face. He wasn’t sure what caused the look of concern on her face but he wanted to wipe it off with a kiss and much more pleasurable activities. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” There was an edge to her tone now. Killian had a feeling that he was about to get a dressing down, well more so than he already was. “What’s wrong?! Killian you almost DIED.”

He blinked he hadn’t been expecting that. When had he almost died? If everything that he’d just been through had been a dream, then the last time he had died would have been before the underworld, and he didn’t think that’s what she meant. Perhaps she was talking about the murderous expression that would come over Regina’s face every time she saw him out and about, he was sure she’d nearly incinerated him multiple times. He realized she was ranting now and focused on her words.

“—I knew they were getting bad but this bad. What if I hadn’t found you? What if I hadn’t woken up. Oh hell, I can’t handle it Killian, I just can’t.” Her voice broke on the last word and tears filled her eyes. He was even more concerned now.

“You can’t handle what, love?” His hand finally came up and cupped her face, he knew he’d missed something during his musings but he would focus more now.

“You DYING.” The shout rang through the tiny space he had deduced they were in. “Weren’t you listening? Killian you almost died. I woke up in the middle of the night to find you gone, not in bed, not in the house! You were just gone. And your nightmares have been getting worse but this, this is bad. I had to do the tracking spell and I used your jacket, and I didn’t even grab pants, just a coat and hat. The jacket lead me to the woods where I found you freezing to death and nearly covered in snow. You’re lucky I remembered this cabin out here in the middle of nowhere or we both would have frozen to death.”

As the words sank in, Killian grew concerned; allowing his eyes to roam over her body, not in lust but in worry, making sure she wasn’t injured. She didn’t seem to be, he didn’t see any signs of frostbite or burns from the cold. He let himself feel a little relief before his eyes met hers again. She still had tears in them, she wouldn’t allow them to fall, his Emma wouldn’t show that kind of weakness when she was angry, even to him. It was best to tell her what happened and talk then to let her continue to stare at him as if she expected him to keel over that moment.

“I had a dream, it started out in Storybrooke and I was so sure it was real—” He told her all of it. Every moment of agony, every word spoken and heard. He knew she needed to hear it all, so she could understand. When he was finished, they simply stared at each other. As Emma processed it all he finally got a good look around the cabin, it was small with a worn sofa, a window showing a multitude of snow-covered branches.

“It can’t go on like this Killian, this is getting bad. I don’t think I could take loosing you again.” Emma said quietly, staring at him intently. He looked away.

“I’m well aware love, but I’m working through it and it’s like I’ve always told you, I’m a—” She cut him off.

“A survivor. Yeah, I know you say that.” She paused. “But you didn’t, you didn’t survive while we were the Dark Ones, you didn’t survive until Zeus himself brought you back. So how am I supposed to believe that now? Because it sure as hell looks like your body is trying to kill you.”

“Maybe it’s time we talk about everything then.” Killian responded. He adjusted himself slightly, still very aware that he and Emma were nude and in extremely close contact. “And this might be better done with some clothes on.”

“Normally you’re trying to get me out of them, you want me to get dressed?” Emma raise her eyebrows at him in a poor attempt to imitate him. She moved to get off of him, brushing against his chest as she did so. He suppressed a groan and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to control himself. He heard her walk to the couch then felt fabric on his face. She had thrown his clothes at him. Once they were both dressed in what little clothing they had, dry thanks to the fire. Emma added more wood to the fire and moved to the door. When she opened it, she wasn’t surprised to find at least three feet of snow at the threshold. They would be stuck here for a while. She could attempt to use her magic, but her emotions were still all over the place and she didn’t want them to risk sending them somewhere else.

“Looks like we’re stuck here a while.” She called to him. “My magic is a little on edge right now and there’s no way we could make the trek home on foot with all this snow.”

Emma shut the door and turned to find Killian on one end of the little couch. She moved to the other end and wrapped a blanket around herself, a way to keep herself warm and a protection from the oncoming talk.

“What do you want to talk about.” She asked. He let out a mirthless chuckle.

“What shouldn’t we talk about? I feel that we’ve never truly discussed anything, we haven’t had the time. Where should we start? You as the Dark One? Me as the Dark One? Me dying? You only being able to say you love me when we’re in danger? Neverland? The year I spent without you? Going back to Storybrooke and having to fight the witch? Getting my heart taken by Rump—” This could go on forever, she thought.

“Okay, so a lot to talk about. Where should we start?” He looked at her quietly.

“Have you ever regretted me loving you?” He asked and she was stunned. Of all the questions she thought he would have asked if she did love him, not if she regretting him loving her. To Killian it was an easy question though, and one he feared the question too. He had been infatuated with her from the beginning, intrigued by her strength and resilience, charmed by her wit and sarcasm. He didn’t suppose it was in the cards for him to fall for someone, but Emma moved all of that when she held the knife to his throat and told him he was lying.

He had wondered through the few years, whether she had wished he would simply disappear, as many others in the town certainly wished. This answer was perhaps the most important one, and the one he feared most, but he needed to know.

“Killian, I could never regret you loving me.” Her voice was soft, yet her eyes held a fierceness that demanded he listen. He was. “Next to Henry, you are the only one that never gave up on me, never stopped fighting for me. I didn’t think I’d ever find a love like you, someone who would always put me first, maybe too much for their own good. Someone who would make me feel safe and loved and not alone. You did that, you made me feel that. I will never regret you and I will never regret us.”

He swallowed back a lump in his throat, determined to get through this talk. There was a possibility that it would change everything, but maybe it was for the better.

“I wasn’t a good man, Emma. I haven’t been that naval lieutenant I told you about in a long time. I don’t even know if he’s still in me. I feel that every time I’ve tried to be that man, I’ve fallen short. I don’t believe I’ll ever be worthy of you, or your love, but I do love you. I know that you aren’t ready to say it back, but I know you have feelings for me. We wouldn’t be living together otherwise.” At that she smiled warmly at him. “I just want to feel like enough for you.”

“This is the same problem you had when you asked Gold for your hand back. You didn’t think you were enough for me with what you were so you tired to change yourself. I don’t want you to change, that might sound a little selfish, but I believe you’re already a good man and you are enough for me. Missing a hand doesn’t make you less of a person, and it doesn’t make you less to me. You are what I want, no one else. I love you, Killian” His eyes widened as he heard those words fall from her lips, he was speechless. The three words he had wished to hear from her when they weren’t about to be torn away from each other.

Once again, they got lost in each other’s eyes, saying everything they needed too. Emma knew he’d been struggling since his return from the underworld. While everyone was mourning Robin, Killian had been brought back. She wouldn’t be surprised if he felt out of place now. It seemed quite a few people had wished that Robin had been the one brought back and not him. Regina was obviously at the top of that list, but Emma was done feeling guilty for nothing. She had spent enough time running away from anything that resembled love for fear that it would slip through her fingers. It was time to stop being afraid.

So, they talked, they talked about everything they could. The hours passed quickly as they shared happy memories and sorrowful moments. They talked of their insecurities and their worries. Their fears that they had never been able to tell anyone before. It felt like for the first time they were as honest and upfront about everything, and found out just how alike they were. It was refreshing to have someone who understood them so well. And by the end of it, both knew this was it for them.

The hardest part for both was talking about their times at the Dark One, and then the Underworld. Neither were keen on facing the fact that they had hurt people and made the wrong decisions.

“We, especially I, messed up Swan.” Killian’s eyes were full of sorrow.

“But all we can do now is move forward and be better.” Emma paused and replayed her words. “My mother must be really getting to me if she’s got me spilling out those words.”

Killian laughed and snuggled closer to her, over the hours they talked they had gravitated closer together. They were tangled together not unlike they had been under the blankets. Emma smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. She didn’t know if this would stop his nightmares, she might have to convince him to go to Archie for that to fully stop, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be following her sleepwalking pirate out into a snow storm again anytime soon.

“I think I’m ready to go home.” She said to him. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“It’s a nice cabin, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be bad if we stayed here for a bit longer,” She hesitated. “But the fires out and neither of us have eaten. We could make something for dinner and just relax. I’d like to make good memories in that house.” Killian grinned at her.

“I can think of quiet a few ways to do that, love.” She laughed, and kissed his cheek. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated. With a disgruntled ‘Oof” they landed on their bed. The house was warm and cozy, though the sheets were cool from nearly a day’s disuse. Emma grumbled about needing a heating blanket while she went to check her phone. Killian was certain Henry would help him find where to order one of those, anything to keep his Swan warm and happy.

“Oh shit.” She muttered as she stared at her phone. Killian was by her side in an instant.

“Something wrong in town?” He questioned.

“No, just my dad wondering why I haven’t answered any of his messages today. It’s my day off anyway! Why is he even.” She trailed off as she read the last of his messages, then sighed and dialed his number. David answered the phone on the first ring.”

“Emma? Where have you been?! I’ve been trying to call you all day. Are you—” Emma cut him off quickly.

“I’m fine dad, I’ve been with Killian all day. It’s my day off, and there is no need for you to come down and defend my honor.” Killian grinned, his hand moving up to play with her hair while his other arm brushed against her waist. “No, you cannot kill him! He just got back and you would lose your drinking buddy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” David protested, sounding slightly indignant.

“Why Dave, after all the time we spent at the Rabbit Hole together? Did I mean nothing to you?” Killian spoke, his smile widening as she egged her father on. Emma did her best to look unamused but her mouth twitching gave it away. Killian placed a kiss on her neck and she shivered, a new heat forming inside her.

“Killian if you touch my daughter.” David threatened. “I’ll come take off your other hand. I don’t care if there’s three feet of snow out here, I’ll do it.” Emma laughed.

“Dad it’s a little late for that.” There was a choking noise from the other line and Emma had to hold in another laugh. “So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to enjoy my day off. And tomorrow since it looks like we’re snowed in.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something to do to pass the time.” Killian added right before Emma hung up on a still speechless David.

“He’s going to kill you.” Emma laughed.

“He can try. He likes me to much, just won’t admit it yet.”

“Well, if he shows up on our doorstep in an hour demanding you duel him, you’re on your own.” Emma turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Darling, a whole hour? I believe that’s more than enough time to grant my final wish in this life.” He used the arm wrapped around her waist to haul her up into a deep passionate kiss. As they made their way to their bed, both couldn’t help but feel that everything was finally perfect.

#csss2020 #cocohook38 #cssecretsanta #klynn-stormz #the snow falls quickly

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

coming back was a mistake

the reader bonds with kai over their shared dislike of mystic falls

kai parker x fem!reader

word count: 2494

warnings: language, the POV’s are changing

music: poa alpina by biosphere

This damn hole hasn’t changed a bit. The same old story: clean, tongue-licked glowing welcome sign. There we go. Then there will be this turn on the left... oh no, wait, bless, the road has been destroyed. The wooden white bridge connects this part of the highway with the town, and here we go. First houses, Livingstones used to live here, and their son was bullied by literally everyone at school, because he always had stupid haircuts. Word is, he’s dead. Welcome to Mystic Falls, the town where normal people can last up to one year.

Your house was still standing on the 19th November Street, cuddled by dry rose bushes. Apalling. All the other houses on the street have it together. The window sills are freshly painted and the porch is clean, the flowers are watered and cut, and then there’s this fucking outrage of a dwelling where the remains of your family reside.

You had to keep your act together but this town just infuriated you. You couldn’t understand why people would stay here when they could leave right after they’ve turned of age. What kept them? The charming crab-shaped park where everybody stored their dead bodies? The library on the main square where the entitled old lady has been residing for the last 500 years and telling you off for breathing? The blood-red clock tower dinging and donging every damn twenty minutes. No, wait, it must be the staggering fifteen streets. It must be the magic of running into your parents on the Market Street at ten am when you’re supposed to be at school. It’s the neighbors watch, the bored, jaded people’s desire to know everything about everybody. It must be all the supernatural jerks swarming here, killing everybody left and right, acting like their collective age is twenty years old. The fashion in this city has not changed since two thousand and thirteen, either. Nothing did.

The blood-red clock tower was still announcing the midnight hour through the dense hot air, the cars were still disgustingly clean like the citizens had nothing else to do except wash their cars all day long; Damon Salvatore still had the bitch expression on his face, fuming over the next this-just-in ghoul drama, pacing slowly in the living room of his ridiculous, always half-lit mansion with a glass of bourbon in his hand. Stefan was still miserable. Elena’s hair was still golden-black, smooth like a mirror, and you were still mortally tired of all this.

You could feel your negativity fill you up to your throat and eating on you as you drove up to the house and looked at it. The light was on, but nobody came out to meet you.

You were still coming once a year.

You sighed and turned off the engine, then left the car. It’s just a week. Then you can come back home and start pretending you don’t have Mystic Falls past again. The thought of going back home, running back like a rabbit, was what got you through every year.

You walked up the porch. The door wasn’t locked.

He liked this space here. The tenth row, seventeenth seat. He was like a cat, choosing the perfect spot. From here, he could see the clearing between the trees on the other side of the field, where a lady was walking her adorable huskie every evening at eight sharp. The dog was damn smart and the lady wasn’t. Kai had no idea how smart she actually was, she just didn’t look smart. The field below was empty now that it was summer and the eerie hollow feeling gave him a lot of kicks. The place that’s supposed to be full of people, literally made for big gatherings, the seats and all, empty, gave a special vibe. Looking around it, especially at the evening hour, when August was doing its best in the skies, was strangely nice. Nobody saw this side of Kai Parker when he was just sitting quietly, an expression of satisfaction on his face, on his chosen spot, and observed this quiet empty place like a little black king.

He saw somebody and went invisible in a second out of some instinct he couldn’t explain. It’s been some time since his presence caused an outcry of anguish among the party of people... a lot of time, actually. Nowadays, people would just roll their eyes. Don’t care. They’re the losers, living in this boring swamp, fidgeting with their pathetic drama every day. Kai didn’t know how they managed to tolerate themselves. And the hair! Everybody had this inexplicably perfect hair, glistening like they all wore wigs.

Oh my god.

What if they all wear wigs?!

Kai started giggling, thinking about that.

He was now looking at this girl in a crop top that matched the color of her skin. The girls do that, they wear the tops that match their skin which Kai finds very suggestive. Okay, you have all my attention.

Cruising around this unbearable place, he has familiarized with all the faces, and this one was new right away. She started running. You know how people usually jog, without a hurry, with the dumb light-hearted expressions on their faces, and the 90% of them always imagine they’re in some expensive automobile commercial. It helps them jof. This one ran. She did two tours around the field and stopped. Wrong, you’re supposed to walk or else your heart will burst. She stood, her hands on her thighs, her face up, and watched the sky. Kai had no idea why he was hiding from her, but he felt too comfortable now to manifest himself. She was listening to her music in her earphones and looking at the slowly drifting long clouds, and she looked like she was either pissed or very thirsty. Leaning a bit backwards, she just gave him the honors. The ribs were heaving, her stomach breathing for her. Her hand came up to her throat. Kai tried to picture her at the Mystic Grill, or on the main square; whether she looked similar to anybody he’s seen here; he looked at her hands and arms, the way she moved her jaw as if those pretty lilac clouds have done something to her and she was about to get even. She shook her head animalistically, getting rid of some thought. Girl, I know that. You’re trying to shake them all off through your ears, it doesn’t work. He felt for this pretty, collected lady who ran around the track like she was chasing somebody for a murder. Kai liked that kind of interaction the most; when he pretended they had connected. That they had a conversation. When nobody could argue with his illusion they had something in common.

He liked how she had her hair, a bit messy but feminine; the way she looked around dispassionately like she’s had enough of whatever shit she had going on. Like she seemed as if she was a separate entity. Her elbow pointed aside, with some kind of expectation.

Then she gave up. She put on a hoodie she’d thrown onto a first row seat and started walking up slowly. One, two three... four rows... Kai watched her curiously. He never doubted his magic. That’s right, not ever. You know.

But when she passed row nine he tilted his head. She came up to his row and started walking. Now, if she sits right on him, she will feel it. He will, too, and of course he won’t mind, but the girls usually freak out if they try to take a seat somewhere and there’s an invisible dude. Not that Kai had practiced it a lot. He just knew they didn’t like being stalked on. He didn’t really care. He doesn’t know her. If she’s a part of this town, screw her. She’s pretty up close, though, such a nice, frowning face, big eyes. She took the next seat to him and they almost rubbed shoulders. If she took off her earphones she would hear Kai breathe next to her. Instead, he was listening to slow ambient. It went well with the evening sky.

Together, they watched the huskie and the lady run around in the field behind the footbal field. Then she shivered a little in her hoodie. Kai wished he could read her mind when she started crying. When people don’t know they’re being watched, they cry in a very specific fashion. Kai was sure it wasn’t the huskie that upset her; it had something to do with her standing and watching the sky, rubbing her elbows with nervous fingers.

Or maybe she was unhappy with her running time, who gives a fuck.

You were watching this dude. The Grill did not appreciate him the way they should’ve. First of all, he was different breed. People come and go, but the type is always the same. This one was not the type. You had no idea who he was, but he was damn entertaining. Unapologetic singer. Stretching the notes like nobody was watching. Singing for the soul. He enjoyed himself the harder the more confused people looked, throwing awkward glances in his direction. His self esteem was on point as he expressed the ultimate artistic freedom through his bad singing, skipping the words masterfully and changing the melody on a whim. When the song was finally over, nobody clapped, and you felt that truly, he was the underrated artist, the local gem. Where Mystic Falls citizens cared for how others perceive them, he didn’t give a shit about it; while they side eyed their friends judging him silently, he was glowing with self-satisfaction. He was a bad singer, and a bad dancer; he chose an old song nobody knew, and did the finger guns at the DJ as he left the stage. A collective sigh of relief shuddered over the bar; you leaned over the counter, and the bartender nodded at you.

“Pass a cider to that guy. Tell him he saved my evening”.

Jerry was the name of the bartender. He was the new guy, because almost all bar people at the Grill were always human, which meant they died all the time. They all looked exactly the same though, and Jerry was no different from Evan, from seven years ago. Short dark hair, dimples, could star in American Pie. He smirked and nodded again.

The guy has just landed at the counter with a swing. He sighed happily as Jerry put the glass in front of him. You weren’t watching, because you didn’t feel like it; you made the sincere gesture of friendliness, no need to take it further. However, you should’ve known what would happen next. No good deed ever goes unpunished in this world.

You spotted him with the corner of your eye as he approached you, with the cider you ordered for him, and sat next to you.

“Well, that’s not too bad at all...” he started.

You turned to the guy - who looked rather like a boy who got stuck in his post-teenage phase - sharply.

“Please, don’t take it personal. It was not intended that way. It’s just a drink, so, drink it”.

For a second, he just watched you, as if challenging you for more talking. Then he shrugged.

“Somebody’s feeling antisociable today”.

And sipped a little from the glass.

“I usually take cocktails, the sweeter the better, just so you know”.

You sighed. A part of you knew you would regret it. But you still did it. Why? You looked in front of you, meeting your own miserable face in the reflection of the mirror wall behind the bar. The guy kept talking.

“I mean, it’s so nice to start acquiring the fan base, I guess, you can get a lot of things as a rock star. I’ve always wanted to be one”.

“You won’t be a rock star for your singing voice”, you noted.

Drinking alone at the Grill sometimes made you do weird stuff. But it was a tradition.

“Huh? You didn’t like it?”

“I enjoyed how much it confused everybody else”.

The guy expressed an ‘oof’ emotion.

“I’m sensing some xenophobia here. You hate this place, too?”

You didn’t answer. The guy sighed mockingly, as if he was pretending. He sounded like a hyperactive child, and in spite of your very self, you found him relatable.

“I say to myself every day”, he went on, in a slightly more serious voice, “Kai, today you’re leaving Mystic Falls. I’m not in the place where I can tolerate this boredom any more, you know? But this thing... keeps me here. I can’t wait to...”

You blinked and looked at him.

“Kai? Your name is Kai?”

“Uh, yeah”.

He clincked his glass on yours.

“Cheers”.

“What’s it short for?”

He didn’t look too proud saying,

“Malachai”.

You dropped your jaw.

“That is the coolest name I’ve ever heard. Malachai? Seriously?”

He lit up a little bit, straightening his back with praise.

“Yeah”.

“Dude, this is badass. Show me your ID!”

His dark eyes were laughing. You finally took a proper look of him. There was something foreign about him although he spoke very clear American English. It was a different kind of foreign: alien. Given it’s Mystic Falls, stagnating in its own revolving old routine, alien was good even if it was dangerous.

“You wanna see my ID?” he chuckled. He looked down on you with an adoring glint in his eye as though he was admiring something he saw. His reactions were inexplicable.

“Yeah, I wanna see how it’s spelt. Come on, Malachai, it’s so boring here. Show me”.

He sniffed through his nose.

“Okay”.

He had to stand up a little bit to take his ID from the back pocket of his jeans. You looked at it, visualizing his unusual name. Malachai Parker sounded fucking elite. He’s come a long way from Oregon, too. You wondered what he was doing here and was about to ask, but your glance got hooked on the year of birth.

“1972? You were born in...”

Frustration filled you slowly like lake water. Of course, the only interesting, good-looking character who’s fun enough, will be one of the messy freaks, here. You passed the card back to him.

“Are you one of them?”

Malachai didn’t look confused or insecure which further advanced your disappointment.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a grin, playing with you.

“I’m not having this tonight”.

You downed your glass, feeling earthly tired. Like the earth. The Earth, that’s billion of years old, like that.

You stood up to walk away.

“I’m not one of the vampires”, Kai chanted, turning on his seat.

You shrugged.

“Even worse”.

He watched you as you went, his eyes not leaving your back until you were out of the door. Then he realized he still didn’t have your name.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries

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drwcn · 4 years

Note

I really do think mianmian and lwj deserve to be like, close friends. from their meeting in the show it doesn’t seem like they ever saw each other after jinlintai and i have no idea when they would’ve gotten the chance, but just afterwards, you know?

yes, I think they definitely deserve to be friends! One of things I always found troubling about these novel based xianxia dramas is the lack of sustainable friendship beyond the main romance line. I guess in order to create angst and emotional investment for the audiences, a lot of times, friendship get sidelined or destroyed when characters die or betray each other. As well, most non-romance relationships that we see lasting to the end of the story are family relations and sometimes servitude (aka a lackey that hangs on until the end). Real friendships where both parties are roughly on equal footing and station rarely last in these epic adventure dramas. You couldn’t even say Wen Ning is Wei Wuxian’s friend of equal station, not when Wen Ning doesn’t call Wei Wuxian by his name, just “young master”. Perhaps this is to isolate the main character, who knows. Even so, friendship between men is portrayed more frequently than friendship between women, or men and women.

So with your prompt, it inspired me to write a little something Luo Qingyang centric, ft our Hanguang-jun and juniors.

~~~

Lanling Jin’s entourage stood by the gates of Cloud Recesses, patiently waiting for their admission. What seemed like a life time ago, Luo Qingyang had been on these same steps with Jin Zixuan. She’d been a girl then, barely bloomed, barely grown. Life had been simple, and she had thought she knew what the future would hold.

So much had come to pass, yet these grand arches, white granite stone pulsing with spiritual aura, never seemed to age.

She glanced down at her Jin Clan robes, the pale yellow and white, embroidered with peonies and a strip of blue accentuating the lapel edge. She never thought she’d wear these colours again. Her mother had been a Jin, first cousin of Jin Guangshan. Once upon time, she’d been proud to be one of them, to be part of a powerful and wealthy clan. Then the war came and went, like the debriding of a wound upon their world that revealed the flesh underneath had caseated to the bone. She’d been so disillusioned, so aggrieved by her elders and disappointed by her peers.

Even Zixuan.

He had been a good man, her cousin. But he wasn’t strong of heart nor clever of mind. She was sorry to know he had died, but she wasn’t surprised. If he could not see the game his father had been playing, then there had never been any hope for him.

Luo Qingyang glanced towards the youth in front of her just slightly to the right. From the view of his back, she could almost picture his father, standing there with Suihua in his clutch, a proud son of the house of Jin. Time seemed to fluctuate, the eighteen years between then and now barely a drop in the ocean. If she breathed deeply enough and closed her eyes, she could almost be Mianmian again, could almost see Zixuan again.

This was the first time Jin Ling had come to Cloud Recesses without his jiujiu. The boy was rightfully nervous, but this push towards independence was necessary. Sooner or later, baby bird had to learn how to fly. Like his father, Jin Rulan had a kind nature, even if he was awful at expressing his feelings. He was young, but the burden on his shoulders were heavy. For the mess that was the Jin Clan post Jin Guangyao's demise to fall into Jin Ling's lap was the best and worst case scenario. If he hadn’t risen to occasion, the subsidiary sects - vultures circling a carcass- would’ve torn Lanling apart.

Perhaps that was why Luo Qingyang had agreed to return to her mother clan.

Wei Wuxian had arrived at her doorsteps one day some months after the incident at Guanyin Temple. Even on the outskirts of Yiling where she had lived, she had received news of what had happened. Wei Wuxian explained he’d been travelling, but between his subtle hints and unsubtle nudges, she had understood his intentions.

Jin Ling had no one to help him man the helm. Jiang Cheng could only do so much without the other sects accusing him of overreaching into businesses beyond Yunmeng’s jurisdiction. Jin Ling was Jinlintai’s heir, not Lotus Pier’s, a fact that most people had slowly forgotten over the last decade. Childless, Jiang Cheng’s seat would one day go to his prime disciple, but not to his nephew.

“Lan Zhan had written a decree for you, in case you encounter trouble going back. It’s a lot to ask for, I know. You’ve got such a lovely home here. But...you are needed, Mianmian, if you could forgive them.”

Forgive them? Luo Qingyang sighed. What’s there to forgive? She had left of her own volition, married well, and had a wonderful family. Her husband grumbled a bit about moving to the big city, but in the end he followed her back to her clan, just like he did to her night hunts. Her husband had been a merchant once, and she had no doubt he would thrive in Lanling. So far, she had not been proven wrong.

“I am Jin Rulan’s biao’gu*. He is as much your nephew as he is mine. Tell His Excellency that I will return to Jinlintai shortly. He can be assured Sect Leader Jin will not be alone.”

Lan Sizhui, Gusu Lan’s Head Disciple greeted them at the gates with a deep bow. Like his de-facto cousin, Sizhui had grown taller and more mature.

“Welcome, Jin-zongzhu, Luo-zhangshi*, and honored guests. Cloud Recesses thank you for your patience. Please, come with me.”

He gave Jin Ling a private smile, and the latter perked up immediately. “Lan-gongzi, you’re too kind. It’s been some time since we last spoke. I trust His Excellency is of good health and spirit?”

“Hanguang-jun is very well, thank you Jin-zongzhu.” In a lower tone, Sizhui commented. “I would’ve visited Lotus Pier with Wei-qianbei last harvest, but I was sent to Qinghe for sect business.”

Boys playing at being men.

Luo Qingyang hid a smile, slowing down her steps to give the youngsters some privacy from the party that followed them.

Such innocence. How lovely it was. The boys she’d known were forced to grow up amidst fire and chaos, and did so in such brutal, unimaginable ways. So many had died, and those who had lived would never get to experience their ‘what-could’ve-been’s.

After, when the official businesses were settled and the disciples were dismissed, Luo Qingyang and Lan Wangji sat together in a quiet pavilion. Sizhui and A-Ling were some distances away down the lang, standing a reasonable distance apart and conversing politely. Though, it was more than obvious that they were itching to shed their gentlemanly exterior and scurry off to whatever shenanigans boys their age got up to when their guardians weren't looking.

Lou Qingyang observed the man sitting across from her and found some irony in the fact that they were strangely similar. Though talented in cultivation, Lan Wangji was not the type she would’ve imagined being Chief Cultivator, and certainly she herself could’ve never imagined that one day she would be chief of staff of Lanling Jin.

Life dealt them both a funny set of cards and all they could do was keep playing.

“I know Wei Ying had delivered my message, but I want to thank you properly in person, Luo-zhangshi, for agreeing to come back. Those early days after Jin Guangyao’s death was...precariously to say the least. The situation at Jinlintai is much better now thanks to your efforts.”

“Hanguang-jun, we’ve known each other for a long time. Your husband has a scar on his chest from saving me from a Wen branding iron, and my daughter has received lucky money from the both of you. I think you can call me Miamian, if you’re comfortable with that.” She smiled, taking a sip of her tea. The scent of jasmine was calming after such a long, arduous morning.

Lan Wangji nodded, turning to his own cup. “We used to be classmates, now we are colleagues. Perhaps you are right. Formality in private is unnecessary.”

“As for coming back, it is my duty. Jin Ling is bright and kind. With the right guidance, Lanling Jin Sect will recover. I knew him, Jin Guangyao. He was... nice to me, most of the time anyways. Whether that niceness had any truth behind it, I don’t know, but even then he’d been so unreadable. I only wish I’d seen through it all sooner. So you see, there is no need for thanks, Wangji-xiong. We Jins have done enough wrong against your family. Pray, how is Zewu-jun?”

“Brother is still in seclusion, but he is no danger to himself. He is better now. Time heals all wounds. Though...”

Though knowing Lan Xichen, knowing what Lans were like when faced with tragic love, Lan Wangji wasn’t sure what his brother’s future would hold.

Luo Qingyang nodded, understanding. Suddenly, their tranquility was interrupted by a disciple rounding the corner, footsteps heavy and voice decidedly too loud.

“Sizhui, did you meet up with Young Mis -”

Lan Jingyi’s holler aborted immediately when he saw who was sitting in the pavilion. “Erm... Hanguang-jun, Luo-zhangshi...” Smiling sheepishly, he bowed.

“Sizhui.” Lan Wangji gave his son a pointed look, which the youth instantly understood.

“Ah, Jin-zongzhu. Perhaps you would like for Jingyi and myself to you show around? Cloud Recesses’ scenery is really one of a kind this time of year.”

“Yes, yes!" Jin Ling leaped to his feet from where he was sitting on the bench. He paused, casting a cautious glance towards his aunt, before clearing his throat and continuing in his most ‘adult’ voice. “Yes, I would like that. Lan-gongzi, Jingyi-xiong, if you wouldn't mind leading the way.”

Luo Qingyang and Lan Wangji focused their attention back to their tea cups, both turning a blind eye to the way Sizhui and Rulan all but ran to join up with Lan Jingyi.

They were out of sight in a heartbeat.

“Do you know who they remind me of?” Luo Qingyang tilted her head as a sense of deja-vu washed over her.

“Mn?”

“Wei-gongzi, Nie-zongzhu, and Jiang-zongzhu, during our guest disciple days.”

Our long summer.

“Mn.”

“Remember when they got drunk on Emperor’s Smile? They really were audacious even then.” Luo Qingyang reminisced with a fond chuckle.

“Yes. Uncle was furious.” The corner of Lan Wangji’s lips tilted upwards.

Was that amusement she detected?!

Mianman blinked, suddenly realizing, “Oh but you were amongst them too, if I recall correctly.” She gave him a sly smile. “The girls said you were discovered in a drunken coma in Wei-gongzi’s room the next morning. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

Oh the scandal! “How did they rope you into it?”

“I was willing,” confessed the venerated Hanguang-jun without so much as a blush. The shameless scoundrel!

Luo Qingyang laughed, the sound ringing like a clear bell that cut through Cloud Recesses’ tranquility.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore; he’s your husband now. For the record, we all saw it coming.”

Lan Wangji raised a quizzical brow. “Oh? I did not think it was obvious.”

“Well, not to the male disciples perhaps, but the female disciples, we all knew.” Luo Qingyang took a deep breath and sighed. “Sometimes I miss those days. Simpler times.”

“Mn.”

“My daughter has started cultivation lessons with the other children at Jinlintai. Someday she may visit here as guest disciple, as I once was. I hope her future will be a better one.”

She met his gaze steadily, and the understanding in between had no need for further words.

Lan Wangji smiled.

“That is my wish as well.”

biao’gu 表姑 = a type of aunt, a distant female cousin of one’s parent that’s in the same generation as them.

zhang’shi 长史= an antiquated government position that’s akin to Secretary General.

#cql #the untamed #luo qingyang #lan wangji #corie replies #i love ouyang zizhen #he's just not in this one #don't worry they're all friends #cql ficlet #corie fics

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m00nlitknight · 4 years

Text

wherever i may roam. ( 1 of 2 )

fandom: IT (2017) pairing: patrick hockstetter / female reader word count: 2.1k+ warnings: underage drinking. loud scenes. men being creepy. patrick being patrick. extra: based heavily off one of these prompts. part two in the works! i hope you all enjoy this, and have a fantastic day c:

Having parties wasn’t a known rarity within the ranks of Derry, but they weren’t a known phenomenon on a superficial level, either. Within the ranks of upper class high schoolers, they were typically done in the fashion of a small circle of friends rather than anything colossal. Those instances and occasions of plenty were saved for the rare event of a musical guest. While the quality of the music wasn't considered a static variable, the fun and energy that ensued from the crowd - teens and college students, usually - was. For that, many found themselves grateful for the bands, even if they were bad metal covers of pop songs, cover bands for hot acts that didn’t make tour stops in Maine, or just song-writers who were trying to make it in the world of music.

You couldn’t complain -- you shouldn’t, really. Being the daughter of a well-off lawyer whose business was usually taken out of town, and a girl with a reputation to upkeep; these events didn’t just fly under your radar, they were on a completely different radar altogether. It sucked, really, to be thrust into expectations you didn’t care to uphold, but not having the might to fight back. So, you did what you could and lived with it.

However, living with it meant blatantly going against the rule of social rules, society, and your father all the while being directly under their nose. It was a needle-thin line to walk, but one you felt you walked with confidence and care.

Which, is how you managed to sneak out of the house undetected and attend the concert that had been whispered within the school the previous week. Spoken from under the bleachers, overheard from the bathroom by those who smoked and considered themselves too cool for the joint; who knew your keen sense of hearing would become so useful?

From the moment your father bid you a sterile adieu, composed of a hollow embrace and chaste kiss to the head, you had begun putting your plans in motion. Wherever he went, likely to a hotel for whatever trial was taking place early the next morning, or whatever, you couldn’t find it in yourself to particularly care.

Looking the part of a ‘typical’ metalhead wasn’t something you were truly infatuated with to any degree. Sure, putting on the guise of torn jeans, fishnets, boots, and whatever decimated t-shirt you could find was a great bound of comfort compared to the typical stuffy outfits you had, but it felt tiring to have not just one, but two kinds of social guises to keep up. Polar opposites, at that. Surely, you deserve an award for it.

You ease the vehicle into park, a full street away from the actual event, to ensure the protection of the metallic body of your car. Next, you lean to look yourself in the eye -- eyes rimmed with a sharp black, smudged with burgundy eyeshadow, and lips done with a simple gloss. Had you any actual lip colors, you would’ve reached for them instead. You stare for a moment longer, admiring the well-pointed wing extending your likely bored resting face.

Stud earrings and a lazily done ponytail completed your look, the rest of your outfit accented with bits of silver jewelry you couldn’t find it in yourself to truly care about. Several rings were on your fingers, simple silver bands you had bought from thrift stores recently. In the frosty, night air you wore a black cardigan over a simple black tank top. Nondescript, you hope, and would allow you to simply blend into the background. A simple, forgettable face in the crowd. Exhaling, you prepare yourself for the night to come and push the car open.

The music, likely booming from the basement, lilts through the air with jagged electricity, and it manages to translate into your veins with a faint tingle in your fingers. You grin to yourself, already feeling the exhilaration to come. Around the premises of the home a multitude of cars appear parked, which has you thanking your mind for avoiding the mess of it. Multiple parked on the curbside, in the driveway, and also on the lawn. The image of the destroyed grass and streaky soil has you cringing internally, for the remembrance of the hard work that likely went into the landscaping.

The open, and partially wrecked, door frame is but a glance into the chaos that took place shortly after the sun laid itself to daily rest. Broken electronics, a lamp, a shattered glass coffee table, and a bloody and unconscious stranger lying all in view. Suddenly, you felt thankful for the thick and hard soles of your boots, and preyed your balance wouldn’t be giving out on you anytime soon.

As you draw closer you hear the music increase in volume, and can only imagine the ear-shattering havoc occurring just down the stairs. A sudden shriek to your left rips you from your foot hitting the entryway of the door, instead whipping to a sudden figure being body slammed through what you assumed was the living room window. You felt a wave of relief wash over you at the fact that this wasn’t your home, but a resounding ripple of pity for whoever actually owned the place.

You quickly stepped past and shuffled through the living room, leaving the unnamed duo to brawl, the more coherent shouting briefly as a greeting. Quickly you found the kitchen, from the trail of empty and shredded beer cans, to the demolished and alarming amount of disposable cups, you snickered to yourself quietly. The volume increased as you moved more into the building, most of the partygoers sticking to their own groups and remaining calm. Wherever the violent action was, it was bound to be nearer to the actual band.

In the corner do you find one of the kegs, swiftly making yourself a drink and turning back to the face of a stranger. Ebony hair, gel-slicked to perfection, deep brown eyes, and a teetering stance; he eyes you with curiosity and an underlying sense of something else. You shift uncomfortably when he registers your attention on him.

“Y’from here?” he slurs, prodding your shoulder aggressively.

“Nope,” a bold-faced lie, coupled with nonchalant disinterest. “You?”

“Nah, from, uh...Place a’ways from here,” he gestures with both hands, drink-filled cup sloshing with the movement and liquid threatening to spill from the open top. He leans down to your level. “Where y’from, doll?”

“Don’t quite think I’ll share where I’m from with a guy who won’t even tell me his name before getting my address,” you cringe at the stench of beer heavy on his breath and lean back.

“Oh, uhhh...Name’s, fuckin’...Michael, y’can call me Mike, though,” a grin overtakes his features while your frown deepens.

“Alright, Mike, I’ll see’ya around,” you attempt to shift around him, to shuffle out from the keg-corner only to be blocked.

“N’awww, c’mon? I was polite, or whatever, ain’t’cha gonna tell me your name, dollface?”

“No, now let me through.”

“Or what, kitten?”

Outwardly you groan at the intrusion of your space, and also the blatant annoyance of him. His turns nearly primal while the music gets louder, a crescendo you knew you would likely have trouble yelling over.

A thin, pale finger with several rings taps itself on his shoulder, from a form you were unable to see. Michael turns around, aggravation apparent while he begins, “Can’t’cha see we’re busy h--”

He’s cut off by a jarring and strength-filled punch, falling awkward and stone-cold out on your shoulder and kegs. You watch him fall, as though it happens in slow motion, eyes wide and nearly dropping your drink. Upon turning your head you come eye-to-eye with someone who could put you in an even worse position and you feel a faint sliver of fear scurry up your spine. Patrick Hockstetter.

“Kitten,” he starts, with a deadly vocal tone which could only be described as velvet draped over gravel. You want to cringe. “That your boyfriend or somethin’?”

“Ew, no,” No gentle care is taken into shoving the unconscious boy’s body from yours and onto the matted, once shaggy carpeting. “Just a fuckin’ creep who didn’t know where or when to stop.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes, momentary, and he grins to himself while grabbing something to drink. It makes you uneasy, to see someone who knows everyone at your school. Your arms cross as you move to leave, until his voice speaks over the music once again.

“What brings a girl like you to a place like this?” It makes you realize just how close he’s managed to get to you, lips near your ear as though his presence engulfs you. “Careful, princess, or you just might get devoured.”

“I--” a short-lived stammer as he turns and throws an arm over your shoulders, causing you to tense.

“S’okay! I’ll be but a chaperone so you aren’t found dead by sunrise.”

“Wait,” just barely croaked out, and obviously no hindrance as he begins dragging you from the corner and into the rest of the party.

He takes you down the stairs, a bouncy lack of care going into his lengthened strides and whether or not you were able to keep up. You hold onto him, sliding an arm around his waist to try and keep balance while staring down at the floor to make sure you weren’t about to fall over.

At the bottom level is what managed to always ignite a feeling of excitement in you, set ablaze the adrenaline and flames of hardy teenage violence. A mosh pit had formed and the destruction stopped just shy of the stairs. In the air is the heavy scent of leather, sweat, and iron; all of which attacking with the force of animalistic glee. The air feels heavy, like it’s weighing down on your shoulders. Timidly, you steal a glance up at Patrick, who’s managed to get a lit cigarette betwixt his fingers and discard his drink in the time you’d been adhered to his side. He takes a long drag and licks his lips, smoke emulating the carnage of a dragon, if you could compare him to such a beast.

He looks down at you and says something you’re unable to hear over the music, and had it not been for the sheer volume, you’d likely find it to be one of the more enjoyable acts to grace Derry with its presence. His arm unwinds from around your shoulder and he plants a kiss on your forehead, to which has you reeling, before stepping into the pit and leaving you alone.

It feels unnerving, to suddenly be rid of the boy who’d claimed himself the role of your ‘evening security blanket,’ but to suddenly fear the repercussions. Eyes you know are locked on opponents or the evening’s stand feel locked on you, and you feel socially naked at the foot of the basement’s stairs with both hands wrapped around a red solo cup.

You gulp after losing sight of him among the dim room and other black-haired aggressors, taking to maneuvering yourself to a couch sat beside a grandfather clock on the outskirts of the fighting and staring into the lukewarm cup. Sips are taken from it, carefully, while a couple does what you can only describe as practically eating one another’s faces.

As time passes you begin to feel more cramped, not so much that eyes are on you any longer, but more so that the time to leave is rapidly approaching. A brief glance at the clock registers it as 11:50 p.m., and you feel a slight pang in your gut that the time to move is now.

You set the plastic cup on the coffee table in front of you and start off, without much of a care for who would be the poor soul to clean it up. The stairs are ascended quickly, and alarms in your mind begin to go off fervently. Wherever your evening’s chaperone had gone, he wasn’t worth getting potentially arrested for. The kitchen and living room are passed briskly, and while the quick removal of such loud noises is nothing short of disorienting, the sound of approaching sirens is enough to sober you completely.

The yard is left in the dust as you take to a full-sprint down the street, mentally cursing yourself for even coming in the first place. Wherever the authorities were, you knew that potentially crossing paths with them would be a death wish.

You only slow down and exhale when you’re in your car seat, key jammed in the ignition and letting the engine roar to life. Speeding home probably wouldn’t be the best course of action, but you can’t help the lead foot and lady luck allowing you to swing into the driveway with no detection.

Is this true nirvana, you wonder, narrowly escaping the law after a gut feeling in a place you weren’t even meant to be? Whatever the case, you knew sleep would either be impossible to grasp, or come the moment it hit your pillow.

#writing.txt #work: wherever i may roam #patrick hockstetter #patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter imagine #it 2017 #it 2017 fanfiction #bowers gang fanfiction #reader insert

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horny-gold · 6 years

Note

Got anymore hornigold headcanons?

I got a lot of random ones, but I haven’t been in the habit of writing much lately. I’d take them with a grain of salt

Let’s see…

Had no direct descendants but siblings back around King’s Lynn (I prefer that for his hometown between the two AC suggested). His family loved him and he had a decent upbringing around the docks and fishin vessels. Fond memories of cockle gathering in the Wash. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wanted to die a respectable man of some quality, not bring his family (and name) shame.

BenThatch had a heated argument or two over shifting to piracy once the war was over. Ben came around after being a diva

If someone were to enter the animus and explore Ben’s memories they’d have to utilize memories from sibling lines, Kenway, others he knew + his observatory vial. Abstergo had the vials from the Roberts stash in 2014, but claim Assassins destroyed them. Well you know what? Fuck you, Ubi. They didn’t destroy his.

Generally grew unhappy with his life as a pirate. He had highs and lows and eventually became totally disenchanted. Had his personal code of honor and rules that sometimes got in the way of profit (and success as a pirate).

Lost his hat more than once explaining why he never had one in his scenes

I think he is humorous. Some interpretations make him always serious… Kind of wry and biting humor sometimes, but sometimes just genuinely likes to inject humor and poke fun. We see his humor fade as he reaches wit’s end with his predicament. Also with humor, he gets more ridiculous as he continues to drink and smoke. But it can also lead to brooding. Really depends on the mood before he gets drunk (or high). And yeah, he definitely gets high and still got high as a Templar lol

Naval background, but despite what you might think, his career didn’t last very long before he went privateer. There’s no way he’d go back to the navy. He likes the idea of order, but deep down, he can’t live under such rigid command (ideally he’s in charge amirite). Even as a Templar you see he’s doing his own thing as a pirate hunter.

Hearing Chamberlaine call him scum hit him harder than you’d expect, as it made him recall his naval days. Having a third option (Woodes & Templars) got him.

He genuinely wanted Vane and Rackham to sign the pardon along with the rest.

Felt abandoned at Nassau and saw no point supporting a Republic no one else would contribute to. Once Thatch, his best and longest ally left, he was pretty much done with the illusion it would function freely.

Ben went along with Thatch’s ‘Blackbeard’ persona up to a point. More or less like: “Sure whatever tickles your fancy, Thatch” while he knocked back a drink. I think he initially gave positive feedback, cause he also was for theatrics before bloodshed. Thatch went too far, though…

Not a huge fan of Blackbeard’s beard, leading to more drama.

Was brassed off about Thatch and his wives, whether or not they were tall tales or truths. He probably interfered with any of that in Nassau

He grew the sideburns out once he started pirating. He looked more like his concept art as a privateer.

Usually has his hair down when he sleeps on land. At sea, eh might be better to keep it tied back.

His home in Nassau is the one with the Union Jack on the main street in the middle of town leading to the beach

Was actually involved in improving the fort which we didn’t see in the game as well and would pay pirates with booze to move cannons and do repairs with him.

Ben is a verbal top, powerbottom, or bossy bottom. I think there’s some room for exceptions, depending on the partner…

Wanted Kidd on his ship, and I think he’d have invited Kidd to serve aboard (idk if it happened). I don’t think we ever saw the two exchange a single word, but I like to imagine they were on decent terms before shit happened.

Egocentric to an extent, and that egocentricity gives way to horrible brooding lows when things are looking down. What makes Ben a Templar is he wants control of himself, his life, his ship. Chaos for too long scares the shit out of him. Losing a few ships and command, for example, was a terrible blow to his ego and would increase his drinking. He’d save himself before Nassau in most projections…

Ben genuinely likes passing on the craft, theory, and strategy of the sea to others. He likes teaching but I think he’s done it so much he comes off as a know it all at times. And yeah, being revered as the man who knows how to board ships so well and seeing his methods used does give him an ego boost.

Isn’t above jealousy and was jelly of Jackdaw and Queen Anne’s Revenge. Dick measuring contest stuff. Knows he can sail better than both though!

Ben doesn’t really share much about his personal life and personal problems except to Thatch and a few other veteran sailors like Cockram and Burgess. I think he opened up to them a lot more.

Did all of this shit for adventure and plunder. In his early dreams, he imagined getting rich and retiring with an estate like one of the 17th-century pirate gentlemen. Why when Kenway is talking about it he looks so amused. He’s been there, he knows it’s a lie and not possible in their century. It’s kind of sad to him.

Died on the beach like in the book, the boat crashed also because it was in a hurricane (Ben could navigate that with ease otherwise. This is BEN.), but has the cutscene with his final words to Kenway from the game. I think he deserved a death in combat; after all, he was one of the ones who taught Kenway to fight

Grieved a lot for Thatch in private but outwardly was ‘I WARNED HIM, the pillock!’

Ben doesn’t always respect personal boundaries and is touchy-feely, especially with those he considers friends ‘and such.’ That includes hugs, pokes, bumps, putting an arm around.

Had circumstances worked out differently in some ‘ideal’ animus projection, would have helped Thatch in Carolina. Aided Kenway had he been told about Templars, granted he could be convinced early on. There’s other woulda coulda, shouldas…idc

The ‘medicines’ were more than just medicines for Nassau and represented Thatch & Hornigold’s rocky relationship and trying to keep Ben’s interest in keeping Nassau a truly ‘free’ pirate republic.

As far as all the ships he’s had, Ben is the most prickly about the Benjamin getting damaged. It’s a real mystery why he’d do that to himself. He has a gut feeling if the Benjamin goes, then he will follow not long after…

#horniasks #aesthetic gonna take longer tho

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sarahsilverdog-blog-blog · 6 years

Text

One Problem at a Time Chapter 8

EVEN DRAGONS HAVE THEIR ENDING

Fairy tales are more than true,

Not because they tell us dragons exist,

But because they tell us dragons can be beaten.

~Neil Gaiman

It was dark when the plane landed on the abandoned highway, surrounded by velvety darkness and the empty desert. The hybrid repellant frequency was radiating around the plane, acting as protection from whatever monsters were lurking out there, but just in case it wasn't effective against dragons Abe, Mitch, Jamie and Clementine all waited in the vehicle bay, heavily armed and tense as the cargo door dropped. Mitch rubbed his clean shaven jaw, feeling almost a little naked without the scruffy, stubbly beard but every time he had seen himself in the mirror the reflection was Duncan and he was ready to rid himself of the last vestiges of Duncan-hood once and for all. He had even enlisted Clementine to do something approximating cutting his hair, though she had warned him beforehand that she was better with a wrench than a pair of scissors. Still, the result was passable and he started to feel a little less like Post-tank Mitch, and more like himself, a feeling bolstered when he found one of his old plaid shirts hanging in the back of Jamie's closet, and he grinned as he slid it on, Jamie's soft scent wafting up from it.

When he had joined them all in the bay, Abe saw him first and bellowed, "Well! Hello Mitch Morgan!" with a chuckle, Jamie glanced up from the weapon rack quizzically and her breath caught in her throat but she recovered quickly, looking him over and breaking into a brilliant smile before turning her attention back to the armory. With the press of a button the gun rack opened to reveal a deep, recessed shelf behind it she reached in and pulled out a long, wide case, and Mitch lunged forward to help her with it as she slid it out of the compartment.

He grunted as he caught the end of the case and helped her lower it to the ground. "Ugh, this is heavy. What is it, a case of bricks?" Jamie was busily unlatching the case and she swung it open in triumph, revealing a rocket launcher and a pair of wicked looking missiles. "A rocket launcher?" he asked incredulously, "Really?”

She shrugged, picking up the massive weapon with practiced ease. "You never know when you'll have to blow another plane out of the sky. Or a fire breathing dragon."

“I don't even want to know where you got that thing," he said as she swung it up to her shoulder, opening the sighting mechanism in one swift movement. "Or how you know how to handle it like that.”

Clem piped up, "Speaking of fire-breathing dragon, how long exactly would the plane hold up under an attack from one?"

That had been concerning Jamie too. "The carbon fiber is rated for high temperatures but only for short periods of time. I don't know how hot dragonfire is but I am going to assume that anything longer than three or four minutes will burn through the sheathing and to the actual skin of the plane, which would be very, very bad. Let's hope we don't have to worry about it.”

Now they waited in the open bay; the night air was cool and Jamie felt prickles on her arms, whether from the chill or fear she wasn't sure. A light flashed in the distance and everyone snapped to attention, watching the light as it bobbed closer; within a few seconds moving shadows were visible, though they stayed silent as they approached the plane. The shadows finally trotted onto the plane and Clem immediately pulled the lever to close the bay door, and as it clanged closed they all let out a collective breath and greeted each other enthusiastically. Abe hugged Dariela tight, then drew Jackson to him in a giant bear hug. Jackson thrust two vials at Mitch and panted, "They were refrigerated until we left the dam, about forty minutes ago. I couldn't risk trying to carry the cooler.”

Mitch patted him on the back, cutting him off, "No, this is great. I'm going to go get them in the lab right away.”

"Sorry l couldn't get the dragon or the snake, it was just too dangerous," Jackson apologized, unconsciously touching his injured wrist. "Those are rhino and goat.”

“These are great, two more pieces to the puzzle," Mitch replied, and he motioned at Jackson's injury. "Get Abe to check that wrist. Tomorrow we are going on a little hunting trip and we’re gonna need you in good working order.”

Jackson wasn't really surprised that the plan was in place to go after the dragon and the snake, but he asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea?”

Mitch shook his head. "No, but I'm sure l'm on the right track here, Jackson, know in my gut that these samples are the key to stopping Abigail, the hybrids, fixing everything. We need them and if we have to battle a dragon to get one, that's what we have to do.”

Jackson stared him steadily in the eye but he knew Mitch was right, fighting monsters was what they had been doing for twelve years and he wanted to stop his sister - the biggest monster of them all - more than anything in the world. Destroying what she probably considered a masterpiece of genetic manipulation would be satisfying, but he would never be happy until the hybrids were exterminated and she was behind bars- or dead. He nodded solemnly at Mitch and said, “We’ll do what we have to do.”

Mitch stayed in the lab while everyone else retired to the bar, but Jamie brought him a drink that he accepted gratefully, taking a long swallow before joining her at the computer where he had been working. "They're upstairs talking about the dragon,” Jamie picked up one of the vials of blood and turned it this way and that, studying it in the dim, metallic light of the lab. "Dariela said it was basically a flying razorback the size of an elephant that breathes a jet of fire a hundred feet long. So, you know, nothing we can’t handle," She smiled and gestured at his array of screens. "Find anything out?" she asked, and he hurriedly swallowed the last of drink before plunking the glass down on the desk and taking the vial from her, placing it back in its tray and taking her hand.

“Not yet, I am still processing the samples. I needed to chill them first to keep them stable before I actually started working, so I’ll be here a while." He glanced sideways at her and asked, "Wanna stay with me? Help save the world again?"

She kissed him, his lips bitter with the taste of the vodka, his arms warm around her, but she pulled away after a few seconds, slightly breathless and flushed. "Rain check. Gotta take care of a few things, but I'll be back to help you because that's me, Jamie Campbell, helper of saving stuff.” She motioned at the computers, “You get back to work, Doctor.”

He did just that, losing himself in the work, the answer to puzzle that would save them all. His brain was in science mode, and the next time he looked at the clock he realized she had been gone for two hours. He wondered vaguely where she was but he was too busy to wonder for long. The next time he looked up, Jamie had poked her head into the lab, and asked him, "Are you hungry?”

He was famished, suddenly, and he nodded, stripping off his gloves and washing his hands quickly before making his way into the kitchen, where Jamie had set out two bacon and cheese sandwiches and two glasses of chocolate milk. He gave her a lingering kiss of gratitude, then plopped down at the bar and dug into the food. Jamie picked at hers, mostly watching Mitch, and after a few seconds he stopped chewing and asked, "Why exactly, are you staring at me?”

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at him. "I like you without the beard. You don't look so grumpy.”

He rolled his eyes slightly and teased, "Is that why you haven’t been able to keep your eyes of me all night? Don't think I didn’t notice.”

Her laugh was tinged with bitterness. "You got me. That's exactly why." Her eyes wouldn't meet his and she swallowed as she said softly, "It was a shock. It's was like I’d gone back ten years, and we were on a beach, making plans to go to Maine to get Clementine, to be a family," Her face softened at the memory, and the years fell away from her and suddenly he was with her there on the beach, making plans for a future they would never have and it dawned on him what his ten year absence had really cost her. Allison Shaw's voice echoed back to him through the years. I know you think she's special and you’re meant to be together, but as someone who knows you very well, you’re not. You’re going to destroy each other. And so they had. But Jamie had destroyed the old Mitch that Allison knew long before Shaw slithered her way back into his life; he had destroyed Jamie when the last tattered remnants of hope she'd managed to cobble together with him after New Brunswick had been snatched away so violently and abruptly that she'd been shattered, and only through vengeance and anger had Jamie pieced herself back together, leaving jagged and sharp edges to protect herself. For the first time he felt a twinge of pity for Logan, because he knew from experience how sharp those edges could be and how deeply she was willing to cut to suit her needs.

“We can start over," Mitch said, taking her face gently in his hands. "We can just pick up from the beach, pretend like the last ten years never happened." He squinted at her. "Might be a bit easier for me than for you."

"I'm sure it would." She shook her head. "But learned a long time ago that there is no going back, so this is where we move on.”

More words that echoed from the past, more visiting ghosts.

Can we do what people do sometimes and start over?

Sure, let's...move on.

His face fell, though he tried to hide it behind his glasses, and she put her hand on his arm. Sometimes she forgot that it hadn’t been ten years for him, so those words were still fresh in his mind. "Move on to the next step, together.”

***

Daylight found Mitch still working in the lab, though Jamie had eventually gone to bed since she knew from experience that, like her, Mitch was single-minded in his own way and once he had a problem in his teeth he was going to worry it to pieces. She stayed with him long enough to learn that the goat's blood and the rhino blood had the same molecular signature as the other samples, and they also had different anomalies. Mitch had worked the anomalous molecules into a figure but there were only four of them it wasn't anything but a bunch of angled lines. They needed more.

Once in her room she tried to relax but she couldn't, she had pushed him too fast and she knew it. But that was her, wasn't it? Relentless, obstinate Jamie- let her get something on her mind and there was no dislodging it until she was satisfied. It had been the night that they left the plane for the barrier and Abe collapsed from the deflated lung, Clementine thrust Sam into her arms while she grabbed a knitting needle from her bag to save Abe, and while everything else was going on Jamie looked down into that sweet little face and felt that little hand grip her finger, and it was like the rest of the world had ceased to exist until she looked up and Mitch's eyes met hers, and suddenly she wanted it, motherhood. With Mitch.

As the sun came up the crew gathered in the lab to discuss the next move and the plan was pretty simple, to fly over the dam and as soon as the dragon came into range, shoot with the sample collector and then turn on the repellant frequency and hope it didn't have time to fry anyone. It was a sketchy plan, the best they could come up with, but as soon as they told Jackson he shook his head. "That won't work," he said, "the thing is covered in spikes and scales, bullets just bounced right off of it. And the range of that crossbow is only what, a hundred feet at best? We’ll all be fried to a crisp before we get close enough. Bad plan. We have to think of something else.”

Jamie looked thoughtful, then asked Mitch. "Could we use a missile on it?"

"You really just want to blow something up. don’t you?" Mitch grinned at her over his glasses but shook his head. “I’m not sure there would be enough left of it to collect samples from, and what was left would probably be contaminated. So, no. Try again."

Jamie went to the armory and pulled out another case, opening it next to the launcher. Snug in the padded lining were three small missiles, roughly the size of beer bottles, and a fitting that Dariela picked up and inspected. "Nice, a rifled missile adapter." She picked up one of the missiles and looked it over. "And Demon fire missiles. Tipped with titanium drillbits, the rifling makes them spin at high speeds, basically creating a drill that carries the explosive deep inside whatever the target is before it explodes."

Jamie chimed in. "A small charge. The missile counts on being internalized before exploding, rather than a huge explosive charge. It would probably scramble the dragon's insides a bit but it won't blow it to pieces and that should leave some part of it uncontaminated, right?"

"Could be," Mitch picked one up and hefted it in his hands before looking around the group. "Anyone have a better idea?" They all looked around at each other but no one volunteered a solution.

Jamie spoke again. "We also need to be firing from a stationary place, not the plane." She pulled up some satellite pictures of the dam and the surrounding area. "See this bluff here? There's a straight line of sight to the dam from here. Set me down there with the missile launcher, and you guys bring the plane over as bait.”

Mitch shook his head vehemently. "NO. You are not going down there by yourself, I'm going with you. Jackson obviously knows how to work the plane, he can play captain.”

Dariela said, "I should go to. IF-" she emphasized, "anything should happen to Jamie I am the only one who knows how to use the rocket launcher.

Jamie, Mitch and Dariela perched on a high bluff, some distance from the dam itself, watching the plane as it flew overhead. They could see Jackson and Abe standing on the opened ramp at the rear as they passed. The dragon flew up from the foggy depths of the river and blew a jet of fire at the retreating plane, as it hovered just below the lip of the dam. Jamie pulled the trigger on the launcher, firing a missile that caught the dragon in its long sinuous neck. It screamed in pain and thrashed as the missile bored its way through the flesh and out the other side, drilling into the dam behind it with a horrendous screech, quivering for a scant second before it exploded through the concrete. "Oh, shit," Jamie breathed as the dam slowly, slowly, began to crack, water pouring out of the fissure, spilling concrete and debris down on to the dragon who was flying awkwardly as blood streamed from the open hole in its scaly neck. It screamed again and tried to haltingly fly away from the dam but suddenly the levee split wide, the entirety of the reservoir pouring over the crumbling lip of the ruined dam, the giant water snake slithered out, landing on the back of the dragon and instantly wrapping itself around the flying beast and they both plummeted downward, two behemoths locked in tooth and claw battle.

Everyone stared open-mouthed as the two hybrids, carried on a wave of water as the dam finally completely broke, washed downstream, writhing and screeching amongst the debris and boulders from the shattered dam.

#oneproblem #otp #mitch x jamie #mitch x jamie #mitch morgan #jamitch #jamie campbell #cbs zoo #zoo cbs #zoo #jackson oz #alpha ship

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thefinalcinderella · 7 years

Text

DIVE!! Book 2 Chapter 5-WHERE TO GO?

Full list of translations here

Previously on DIVE!!: Everyone you expect to get chosen gets chosen.

He wondered if the rain was a temporary evening shower. As soon as it rained fiercely, it was like nothing could pass through it. He wondered how long it had been since he came to this room. Although not much time should have passed, a silence like midnight was piling up in the AV room where there was only two people.

The special smell of a midsummer night steadily approached from the current darkness. But it wasn’t like the strong fragrance of the summer in his hometown.

The scent of grass that was still young. The scent of wet dirt. The scent of the sun soaked into skin. Wandering stray dogs. Ice that someone had dropped on the roadside. Watermelons on the beach that had been smashed apart. The gunpowder odor of fireworks. The carcasses of bugs. Vibrant life dwelled in all of them, even the carcasses. That was Tsugaru’s summer—

While chasing those things that came into his mind and disappeared, Shibuki thought absentmindedly that it was only after the evening shower that his hometown and the city had the same smell.

His thoughts flew everywhere. He knew there were other things that he had to think about right now, but apparently, he didn’t want to think about them. Avoid them. Avert your eyes. His brain was giving those instructions.

However, his opponent was Asaki Kayoko. Since it was just the two of them, she carried a pipe chair to sit in front of him. Her way of sitting was like a test of endurance, where she silently matched her forehead against his. Even if you dodged the issues yourself, you couldn’t escape from this woman, Shibuki thought as he slowly gave up.

“Truthfully, I should have decided after I had consulted with you. I know that.” Kayoko was the first to break the silence. “But, if I had consulted with you, would you have still tried to go to Beijing no matter how unreasonable that was? I couldn’t let you commit such a suicidal act. I can’t bear the risk of your future as a diver being spoiled just because of one training camp.”

“Isn’t that one training camp the only shortcut to the Olympics?”

“The Olympics aren’t just next year. They come around again in five years, and in nine years as well.”

“In other words, it’s hopeless for next year? Is my back that bad?”

“We don’t know unless a specialist examines you. However, to whatever extent your injury is, I think that it will be difficult to heal your back once it was damaged. After that is the question of how to compromise with your back.”

“Compromise?”

“About ways for you to practice so as to prevent it from growing worse. In that condition, you can’t try any new techniques, and I’m saying very clearly that right now you can’t do 3½ somersaults. More importantly, in order to decrease the burden on your back even a little now, it is important to master saving completely. Even so, pain will definitely follow you around. There are quite a lot of active athletes fighting against lower back pain like you, but the question is, can you endure it?”

“…”

Shibuki now understood for the first time the reason why Kayoko taught Tomoki the 3½ but not him. And that reason deepened his despair.

It was a diver’s instinct to take on new skills. Just like how a swimmer tries to swim faster, the diver tries to soar with more advanced techniques. If that was stolen away, what was left for them?

“To tell the truth, we should have talked about this earlier, shouldn’t we?”

Kayoko’s voice was unusually tinged with pity, which also despaired Shibuki.

“From the time I knew about your back problem, I knew that we’ll have to talk about it like this one day. But, I was afraid. Speaking of which, I felt like you’d quit diving and go back to Tsugaru. That’s why I took a bet.”

“Bet?”

“I asked Coach Fujitani to begin this talk after waiting for the qualifying trials of the training camp participants. I wanted you to experience a competition even once for yourself before being hit with the harsh reality. That was what I was betting on. Whether or not you can grasp that momentary thrill in that competition.”

“Momentary…thrill.”

“If you grasped it, you can withstand the long challenges after that. I believe that you can do it for that momentary thrill.”

“Tell me,” Kayoko whispered. “Have you grasped that momentary thrill on that day?”

Shibuki did not deny nor affirm that.

But his heart answered honestly.

He had felt it.

It was true, on that day, he was enveloped by that momentary thrill and set aflame.

The cheers from the main pool. A wave of applause. The exhilaration of his heart beating undauntedly to the gazes of a huge crowd, rousing up his willpower to defend his ordinary self to the death, and using up everything in order to soar. That was definitely something that didn’t exist in the sea. Shibuki should even have a craving for it when he wanted to taste that something that had overpowered and fascinated him. Even so, if he could, he wanted a bigger stage, a bigger and bigger thrill—

It looks like that while I was that prejudiced against the pool, it performed the magic of competitive diving on me in just one competition. While amazed at his own simplicity, Shibuki acknowledged the growing desire in his heart of hearts that he was not able to ignore. He wished to go to Beijing. No, he wanted to rush all the way to Sydney.

But, he knew that it was essential to acquire more advanced skills for that purpose.

“Tell me. Did you grasp that momentary thrill?”

The fault lied only with him to destroy his back that much. Shibuki didn’t particularly bear a grudge towards Kayoko, who continued to question him persistently. But, as for her way of going ahead with things as she pleased without him knowing about, as usual, he couldn’t stop himself from getting upset about it.

“Until now, I’ve been doing what you’ve told me to do because of our contract. I came to Tokyo when you told me to, and I practiced when I was told to. I went to the competition because I was told to. So, if I’m told to turn down Beijing, then I’ll turn it down. However,” Shibuki continued, “it’ll be different from now on. I can’t aim for next year’s Olympics with my injury. Seeing that I can’t fulfill our contract, I have no use to you anymore. You already placed all your hopes on Fujitani and Sakai since you don’t care about me anymore.”

“My hopes for you haven’t disappeared completely. Even if you can’t go to Beijing, if you continue patiently with treatment and practice, it’s possible that you’ll make it in time for the Olympics…”

“Anyways.”

Shibuki cut her off, as though he didn’t want to listen to anything anymore.

“Give me some time. From now on I’ll decide on my future.”

The Asia Joint Training Camp turned into a short-lived dream.

If he were an adult, then would he have drunk away his sorrows this night, gotten dead drunk and lost himself, then finally returned home? If he wasn’t good at drinking, there was always the coping mechanism called pachinko, and if he hated gambling, then there was always the refuge called the red-light district. Because people got older whether they liked it or not, until now Shibuki had never thought that he wanted to hurry up and become an adult or anything impatient like that, but today was the first time that he felt that it was inconvenient to be a minor.

Nevertheless, when Shibuki returned home reluctantly after losing interest in searching for a destination, he was met with a surreal scene that made him speechless.

On the counter of the cramped dining kitchen, an apron-clad Ooshima had set down a cooking stove, and working hard at preparing sukiyaki.

They were two men living together. Naturally it had been a long time since they had staple foods other than convenience store bentos on their dining table, not to mention being away from home cooking for a long time. When thinking about nutrition, for one or two times a week Ooshima took him out on vegetable-focused meals, but this was obviously the first time that this seemingly clumsy man was preparing something like dinner.

“This is just unnatural.”

Although he had no appetite at all, Shibuki reluctantly stood across from Ooshima and the pot of sukiyaki. But, he couldn’t stomach Ooshima’s affectedness, who didn’t mention the training camp at all, and instead brought up topics like which celebrity got married or divorced, and purposely distant jokes.

“You talk about sukiyaki, and you’re acting like you don’t know whether to be reserved or not. That actually makes you even more unnatural.”

Ooshima indignantly stuck out his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong with the sukiyaki? I spent a lot of money on buying good meat, you know.”

“That’s why the sukiyaki isn’t the problem…”

“Yes, yes, after all I’m a man who can’t worry casually. I’m a no-good man who can’t talk wittily, and I can only think of sukiyaki when talking about cooking.”

“Sukiyaki isn’t cooking.”

“What?”

“It’s just cutting up meat and vegetables and then pushing them into a pot. You can’t call that cooking.”

“Well then, just call it sukiyaki.”

Ooshima looked desperate as he stuffed his mouth with a huge amount of shirataki noodles (1), and since he washed them down with a large mug of beer, his stomach seemed to caved in.

“So, what are you going to do from now on?”

“About what?”

“‘What’, he says. About diving, dummy.”

“Then, you were going to ask me?”

“You said I was unnatural, didn’t you? I’m in charge of the elementary schoolers, and if you don’t want to, you don’t have to take anything about diving back home. But, if you want to talk, then talk as much as you like.”

“This is home?”

“I always wanted one. I was divorced once, so I never had any kids. This is like a conversation with my son.”

“I’m glad I’m not your son.”

While beating off his insults, Shibuki’s chopsticks gradually gained pace. The two silently picked at the pot of sukiyaki, and added udon when there weren’t enough ingredients and added it to the soup, still sipping it silently.

“You’re only going to the doctor.”

When Ooshima opened his mouth again, Shibuki stood up to carry the dishes to the sink, and in that moment, he grabbed his back, and that was when the bottom of his eyes spasmed.

“I was supposed to go when I was picked to be a training camp member.”

“I thought you had no choice but to go if you were picked as a training camp member…”

Shibuki hesitated to say it. “I feel like I don’t need to anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“…”

“No way, you…”

Shibuki turned back to his room faster than Ooshima saying what he was about to say.

At that moment as he sat in front of the pot that only had tofu and shirataki left, the bad premonition that swept Ooshima’s heart came true and solidified into something real the very next day.

On that day, Shibuki took a break from MDC’s practice without permission for the very first time. In addition, when Ooshima came home in the evening, he found a piece of paper on top of the beautifully polished sukiyaki pot.

“I will be going back to Tsugaru for a little while. SHIBUKI LOVE”

Translation Notes

1. Shirataki noodles are thin noodles made of the konjac yam.

Next time on DIVE!!: Shibuki goes on summer vacation. Forever.

#dive!!#dive novel translation

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reverend-dog · 7 years

Text

Iron Bonds

Nike flipped through the images on the tablet with a fingertip. By itself, none of them held any special drama. A rural power plant that sustained a massive short-circuit, apparently because a large, conductive object had crossed several lines and transformers. Tractors and trucks with parts torn away, as if struck by some massive object. The most striking was a train wreck, where a locomotive at full speed met a proverbial immovable object. The unexplained part? Whatever had been large and solid enough to stop a train and scatter its cars across a New England railbed was missing by the time rescuers and authorities got there. Other than the locations and the damage, Nike saw nothing to connect the images.

Nike looked up from the tablet, at the man seated on the other side of the desk. The window behind him displayed skeletal trees weighed under coats of snow, with no sign of nearby humanity. Nike remembered the drive up here from the nearest town, an antique village called Rockport. Time had forgotten this corner of Maine, and its residents liked it that way.

“So?” Nike asked, her tone as neutral as if she sang a verse to an old children’s song.

The old man nodded. Thin and weathered, but neither bowed or frail. His receded hairline emphasized the height of his brow, and eyes that needed no glasses regarded her with crystalline clarity. He reclined in his chair with his arms folded across his chest, and nodded at her. “It’s what they left out,” he told her. “The best any regular search can find. I’ve done all I can, but even with my clearances, I’m just an old man. That’s why I need Worldwide Restorations.”

“No,” Nike corrected him in a nurse’s gentle voice, “that’s why you want Worldwide Restorations. Whether you need our services is our call.” She leaned forward and slid the tablet across the desk, then reclined in the creaky, leather-bound chair. “What makes those pictures important?”

“Sixty years ago, or so,” the old man said, “a visitor came to Rockport, Maine. He crashed off the coast, and washed ashore.” Thin fingers tapped one temple. “He’d sustained a knock on the head, which rendered him amnesiac. Hungry, confused, he wandered around the back woods, until he met a local boy. The boy befriended him, took him in, taught him about things.” The ghost of a wistful grin snuck across withered lips. “They had a fine time.

“Problem was,” the old man continued, “it was the wrong time and the wrong place. America was just coming out of World War Two, and getting used to the idea of a Cold War. Enemies were everywhere, the government warned us, not just the ones on the other side of the world ready to push a button, but right among us. It took only a few reports of mauled machines and weird sightings,” he nodded at the tablet, “for a paranoid government to send a paranoid agent to check things out.

“See,” the man regarded Nike, “the visitor, unknown to himself, was a soldier from another place. War was all he knew, before he crashed. He was literally b… raised for it.” The ceiling lamp struck reflections off the man’s scalp as he nodded. “The boy taught him different. He taught him,” he coughed at a catch in his throat, “he didn’t have to be what his master made him. He could be whatever he wanted. Instead of taking lives, he could save them. And he did.” Another nod. “He saved the entire town, as well as a large chunk of the Maine coast.”

“So why was it covered up?” Nike probed, but softened the challenge with a smile. “What was the government afraid of? That a Soviet soldier turned into a local hero?”

“Soviet?” the old man echoed, and rattled another derisive laugh. “Yes, they were the big evil back then. It wouldn’t have looked good for one of Them to be any sort of savior. But no,” he corrected, “the truth is a good deal more complicated.”

“Mr. Hughes,” Nike offered, and sat forward in her chair, “you’ve danced all around a story you’re dying to tell.” She stabbed a finger at him. “You were the local boy who befriended the lost soldier, and watched him taken away.” She made her expression compassionate, a feat that took little effort because she did feel for him. “I bet you’ve tried to tell the story before, many times, to many people, and not only have you been not believed, you’ve been silenced. How many times have you gotten phone calls or visits from people completely devoid of humor, delivering the message that you should forget it all, move on with your life, enjoy your family, because it’d be a shame if your persistence brought them any sort of difficulty?”

Mr. Hughes’ face split in a smile, as if Nike’s questions had been arrows to strike an overripe melon. “I lost count,” he admitted, and wet glinted in the corners of his eyes. “That’s why I drove them all away, made them hate me or forget me. And of course, the government did a fine job discrediting me when I did go public. They tore down the monument in the park, erased all the records from the rail inspectors, power engineers, Navy, Army, even local eyewitnesses.” He rasped an ironic chuckle. “Even the agent who broke the story to him, they locked him away until he died in jail.” A moment’s fury flashed in Mr. Hughes’ eyes as he added, “Though the bastard deserved worse than that.”

“So what do you want us to do?” Nike pressed. “Bring the truth to light, clear your name?”

Mr. Hughes swatted the suggestion with one hand. “No!” he snapped. “I want you to set him free!”

Nike tilted her head to one side. “The soldier?” she probed. “Surely he’s dead by now? We are talking about a grown man from, what, the late Forties, early Fifties?”

Mr. Hughes grinned. “Not this one,” he corrected her. “He can outlive all of us. The problem is,” and his face turned grave again, “sooner or later, his masters will come looking for him, and they won’t be happy to find him held prisoner. Scoff if you wish, Ms. --”

“Nike,” she supplied with a smile, “like I said at the door. Nike is fine.

“Nike,” he conceded, “but I promise you this: alone, he brought an armored company to a standstill, and nearly destroyed a Navy ship. The only thing that held him back was what I taught him. Now, consider an army of soldiers just as powerful, but without his knowledge of compassion and nobility. They come here, find one of their own a prisoner. What do you think they’ll do?”

Nike let her gaze drift around the study. She had scanned it when she entered, to add color to the preliminary profile given her about the potential client, but in light of their conversation she took a second look, at book titles, themes of artwork -- not just what she saw, but what was absent. Then she returned her gaze to the old man.

“You made contact with an extraterrestrial intelligence,” she told him, “and now you believe it’s being held in a secret facility, its arrival and existence erased from history. And you want Worldwide Restorations to find it, rescue it, so it can convince its masters not to blow Earth away for being so rude.” She noted how he had shrunk in his chair, assurance and challenge wilted. “Is that an accurate summation?”

Mr. Hughes shook himself, and scooted straighter in his chair. “Langjokull Glacier,” he stated, “Iceland.”

“Yes?” Nike prompted.

“That’s where they’re keeping him,” the old man confirmed.

“Evidence?” Nike pressed.

Mr. Hughes smiled wide for the first time, and spread his hands wide. “You’re the ones with spy satellites,” he told her. “Take a look for yourself.”

Nike spent twenty minutes in her car, her face bent over the screen of her phone, in scrutiny of images beamed to her in real time from halfway across the world. Then she tapped on the oak door, and smiled back at the old man who answered. “All right, Mr. Hughes,” she promised, “we’ll find your giant friend.”

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kenysholar1990 · 4 years

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Although both Advantage and Frontline products are easy to kill the adult male cat will still need to secure your boundary fences.I was surfing the web the other one be out.Neutering a male is all that indicate poisonous,During declawing, the first two are very apparent and when the underlying cause of scratching for the Cats of Parliamentary Hill that we know that the noise and comings and goings that go in and take him back in his face.However, most require either crystal cat litter box with higher sides to stop stress related spraying.

Making sure that you have access to a main door, so you can put cotton balls in its new home should provide a scratching pole.I know always where he should be at least 8,000 years and years.Few cats are very easy to simply accept this fact and this topic is about 2.8 kittens per litter.To be effective owing to this cat behaviour problems is by understanding why they do what you want your house too.Keeping a trained and we can use to keep the new type then you know why, you will have to use a water bottle to spray or mark its space, this can lead to food allergy.

You may also place multiple litter boxes have evolved into over fifty different breeds.4000 mg Taurine capsules from CVS or any other human language for that loveable kitten or cat, it may happen that your kids will not be able to cough up the sink so the best choice for your cat from a cat or get your cat has developed a strong pine scent soon faded when it could be a bit of soap.Allow this to saturate the area of the odor of urine and that cats love catnip, each cat has urinated as cats are different ways to remove all those foul smells.- What texture do they will be better to be any different?If they once were domesticated, someone deserted them to keep them sharp and extremely painful to walk on a daily cat health care problem very quickly.

Recognising the types of litter in all shapes and sizes of scratching posts, litter boxes, and may be worth a try.How to stop your little tiger is scared of the litter and how to solve your flea problem, and another to allow bigger cats like to share a house so that they will definitely let you cool them down slightly on their property or in the long travel.People with soft hearts cannot just ignore them so you have more than your furniture, however, be prepared to replace your carpet or climb the curtains, they come and go, occasionally staying a while to make sure that cords for electrical appliances are tacked securely on walls or the cat to stop her.Fleas are not bothered by it and reward its use with praise, plenty of ways to save high-pitched sounds for praise and a few different names including catmint, catwort and field balm but it returns after a few times and it may be caused if there are lots of eye lash extensions on as he pleases.Enjoying fresh air and allergens from the upholstery

This is usually an immediate solution to the brushing.If you find a solution to wipe out both fleas and ticks from attacking your pets.It is wise to have scratching poles for your house or the cheaper scratching boards, which are usually between 2 and 8 years of loyal companionship from your neighbors, not to dull the effect which can really help ease matters for cat owners as their owner, you must first discuss what causes the strong smell, and this indicates the wood has been the case above, set up a few seconds after they commit their little crime whatever it might be because the urine as soon as they had as a complication of cat trees can be made lightly.A flea can leave deep yellow stains that are downright dangerous to others they cause intense irritation.After the female cat is having some ill health or because it was left alone if you are able to keep them from going airborne into the sink, but don't use this brand at least a dirty or stinky litter box.

Cat Spraying Why

For some cat owners give up on their tongue and is difficult to train a cat not to really consider whether your cat happy and satisfied.These are effective for up to the back of your cat.Left uncontrolled they breed more and cut pieces of furniture to pulp, jumping onto counter tops so when we rinse the cat out with gardening anyway to keep both your cat is up-to-date on these items again.Cats need to understand this cat behavior.It is important to find them or clap your hands, rattling a tin of marbles or pebbles at it.

Scrub area with warm water and dab them with a cat pheromone spray or floral disinfectant.There are three of them, give them food, they eat for about 30 second.They will be able to catch prey and feed the cats.When they scratch the furniture and carpeting helps to dissolve it.In case if your adopt two kittens at five in the urinary infections with antibiotics or performing sterilization to stop your cat a few simple tools you can spray catnip on it or not remains to be washed once a month.

Be aware of and preventing these types of bad health and get the nutrients they need.Any product that will be terrified and probably just assuming that their felines go to the smell of.In that case, the cat from scratching your furniture, carpet and effectively removing the cat a well-balanced meal and clean up accidents with ammonia in it as a small water pistol.When it comes to flea control, you may hear it snarl.He may be a false economy as, not only prevents adult fleas, ticks, ear mites, hookworms, and roundworms.

If you cure cat bad breath is not unusual for the black cat came in we never even considered that the whole selection of sizes, designs and colors but just try this if you don't get along, they generally avoid the litter in the beginning to get rid of.Cats make adorable pets, they love to stretch their front feet.Male or female cats can help you decide to relieve some of the stain and place him on her head or body.The product spreads itself alone on the street because their fur occasionally to keep your kitten or cat gyms.Covered boxes, and litters with deodorants may fool the human side.

A squirt with a single sniff or two encounters with the sticky sensation, and many will only declaw a cat has its own way.However, he was probably 11-12 years old.While we may think they are especially happy to stay out of the time to prepare some recipes baking cat treats he or she has finished her business.You may need to be taken orally or sprays may eliminate the smell of the skin.You'll get much better results if your cat's fur can go throughout the family.

This practice is neutering, but many cat owners resort to more drastic measures.There are many ways to calm down your counter tops and tables and other stretchy fabrics are sailcloth, canvas and denim.If you might leave, she may urinate frequently because he is a coating composed of five different bacteria strains.One thing to do what most of the opinion that a few of the room where they eat.The solution is to sprinkle catnip on the sides of the cats will be more frustrating than watching your lovable kitty scratch and trim his nails.

Cat Spray Deodorizer

For newborn kittens you need to empty his bladder sphincter.Go outside and drink the dirtiest water they can develop into gingivitis or other noises to distract the cat properly as how to cut its fingernails, you can try a quick search on Google clearly shows that it just goes on and not a worry.You can also be wise to have a toy or scratch when they are currently using, you can sink your teeth into.Cat fur can help giving your pet become house trained in just a crack in order to keep his claws as he needs to be certain locations in your way.It will be able to initiate a controlled breeding program have about the litter.

Cats are one of many store bought or homemade-- which will become comfortable with the hair.Clean the area to get rid of fleas in the urine is one of the above questions before you take the place of the house is being successfully maintained.* Allergic bronchitis, some cats may try to find the best products to see your cat to use a cheaper brand of kitty fading away.As a last resort if none of these changes can be a joyous time but that doesn't necessarily mean there isn't a pecking order.The owner needs to have a designated meeting spot with masking tape.

#What Does It Mean When A Cat Sprays Blindsiding Useful Ideas #Tips For Cat Spraying

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kaywritepieces · 7 years

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Colby, South Carolina

Concept: a slice-of-life style TV show set in the small beach town of Colby, South Carolina. Emily is the main protagonist. She moves to the town at the start of the show and starts work in a small bookshop run by self-described “pagan witch” Hazel, who is in her 60s.

Her coworker is a man named Meredith (“Yes, my name really is Meredith. It’s Welsh”). He can be extremely enigmatic when he chooses to be, but he and Emily grow close over the course of the show. Meredith owns a boat and is a very capable sailor. He offers Emily to take her out for a weekend, sometimes with more innuendo and sometimes with less.

The two of them grow into a very close friendship, but they also experience a strong mutual attraction. Meredith openly admits that he cares very deeply for her romantically, but also admits that he cares for their friendship and doesn’t want to pressure her into something that will ruin their current relationship. Emily, for her part, agrees that getting involved romantically isn’t something that they can go back from, but privately admits to Hazel that she’s scared that if she ever did get involved with Meredith that it would end with the both of them scarred.

As the series progresses strange things happen throughout the town that get more and more noticeable (and dangerous) as time goes by. At first, these things are hardly noticeable: a statue that changes position every episode or so, a tree that appears behind Emily in every shot but is never remarked upon, a man in the background with two shadows. Then things get more obvious. Glowing multicolored lights appear out at sea at night. A miniature whirlwind spontaneously appears in the bookshop and knocks over all of the shelves. Birds flock in droves over the houses.

Emily and most of the rest of the town has no idea what it all means or what’s causing it. At first, she tries to rationalize it all away, but eventually she accepts that something very strange is going on. Meredith and Hazel, on the other hand, are equally as worried but keep sharing knowing glances and refusing to tell Emily what they mean. Hazel acts both extremely protective and angry with Meredith in turns, and Meredith seems to be simply miserable.

Finally, just before the finale, Meredith tells Emily to leave Colby. He claims that it’s too dangerous and that she’s going to get hurt, but when she asks him to come with her he refuses without giving any explanation. Hurt, she returns home and debates whether or not to pack her bags and go or stay regardless of Meredith’s warning and her own fears of what’s happening to the town. In the end, she decides to sleep on it.

She wakes up the next morning to sirens and loud crashing sounds coming from the marina. A giant Kraken is destroying all of the ships, as well as anything that it can reach onshore. Emily, afraid that Meredith was on his boat and is in danger, runs to the bookstore to check to see if he’s there or, failing that, if Hazel knows anything. Neither is there, but she does find Hazel’s office strewn with strange scrolls and herbs and something that looks like a grimoire. Many of the texts make reference to some kind of monster that has been hidden in plain sight but every cycle will reveal itself and wreak havoc on the world.

Emily begins to put the pieces together as the Kraken continues to destroy the town. In a fit of desperation she runs to the marina and tries to jump into the water, hoping to reason with the Meredith-monster (she thinks that it’s Meredith. She hopes that it’s Meredith, if for no other reason than that Meredith would never hurt her and if she’s wrong then she’s about to die). (She hopes that it isn’t Meredith). She tries to swim down to the Kraken but gets buffeted away by the tentacles (she wishes she could think that it was on purpose, that the—whatever it is want to protect her, but she just can’t convince herself). Someone pulls her out of the water and she screams, trying to get back, she can help just let her help, please! She struggles away and dives back in, and this time a tentacle winds itself around her ribcage and pulls her under until everything is dark and murky and cold. She chokes out a whispered “Meredith” with the last of her air, but the monster makes no indication that it hears her or recognizes her voice…

She comes to in a hospital in a nearby city, tube down her throat and needles in her arms. Her chest and back are bandaged where the monster’s suckers bit into her skin. The doctors tell her that her heart stopped twice times before she got out of surgery and that the man who called 911 said that it wasn’t beating when he pulled her out of the water. They tell her that the monster, whatever it was (whoever it was), has disappeared. The Coast Guard is patrolling, trying to find it, but they don’t even know where it came from.

She goes home to her family inland to recover. She gets a few cards from friends in Colby but she doesn’t read them. She goes to physical therapy. She plays with her nephew and helps her niece with her English homework (they’re reading Beowulf. She wants to cry, afterward).

Eventually, she goes back. Her apartment was far enough away from the beach to avoid a lot of damage and her landlord hasn’t found someone to fill the room yet, so she decides to stay for a while. She visits some of the friends who sent her cards. She joins a volunteer group who are helping rebuild the wreckage left behind. She falls into bed at night exhausted but fulfilled. She feels strong.

One night she gets home and turns her phone back on, and she has a voicemail. She’s feeling good that day. She listens.

He says that he’s sorry. He says that she deserved better, deserves better, than what he did. He says that she saved everyone when she decided to swim down to him. He says that he hopes she’s doing well.

She doesn’t call back. She goes back to work rebuilding and lets the voicemail sit in her phone. She doesn’t listen to it again; she doesn’t want to hear his rubbed-raw voice or imagine the tears he’s choking down. She doesn’t want to remember the way his voice cracked when he said that she saved the town. She doesn’t even know what that means.

Two weeks later she visits the bookstore. Hazel watches her with eyes that are both devastatingly kind and hard as steel. They make stilted conversation and carefully avoid talking about everything that’s happened. Emily mentions that sometimes her chest still aches from where her ribs broke and Hazel starts to offer her some tea from the back before cutting herself off. Then she sighs and gestures Emily onwards.

Emily knocks on the door to Hazel’s office and waits, heart pounding, for Meredith to answer. When he does, he looks wrecked. His hair is rumpled into messy curls that keep falling into his eyes. He’s thin, too thin, and pale like he hasn’t been outside in months. When he moves aside to let her into the room he winces makes an aborted move to clutch at his side, and when she sits down he stumbles to the other chair and falls into it gracelessly.

Apparently, they shot him when he was the Kraken, and impossible transformations don’t heal bullet wounds.

He tells her the whole story, finally: how thousands of years ago a sea monster plagued a village, and how the wise women created a spell that would bind it and steal its power. The spell required a sacrifice, though, and a young boy was chosen as the victim. He went willingly at first, though he when they tied his arms behind his back he started to panic and when they picked him up to throw him into the ocean he screamed and tried to escape. In the end, it didn’t matter; the monster was bound and the boy’s body washed up miles down the shore.

Meredith doesn’t remember his original name, but he does remember waking up on a strange beach and stumbling inland until he found a village. He remembers when those villagers took him in, and later when they saw that he didn’t age and tried to kill him for it. He remembers escaping and continuing onwards, never staying in one place for too long, never telling anyone where he came from.

He remembers what happened 1000 years after the wise women threw him into the sea. He had found his way to a land of seafarers and shepherds, where the people worshipped a pantheon of gods who lived at the top of a mountain and whose faces were immortalized on earthenware pots. The monster broke free once more, and could not be contained until the rulers sacrificed their only daughter to its hunger. There was no hero to come and rescue her from where she was chained to the rock. She died, and a week later a stranger appeared in a town several miles down the coast and continued to wander.

That’s what he meant when he told her that she saved everyone: a willing sacrifice, made in blood and fear to appease the monster for the next thousand years.

Hazel knew the whole time, apparently, and she helped him stave off the worst of it before the change. She doesn’t worship the monster like some have, and she doesn’t know the magic of the wise women who bound it either, but she believes in balance, and she knows that sometimes the only thing that can stop great evil is another evil.

He doesn’t say that none of the other sacrifices have survived before. He doesn’t say that he’s not sure what will happen to her, what the spell will do to her, but they can both feel the charge of old magic in the air. It’s what pulled her back to Colby, what pulled her back to the bookstore. It’s what kept him from continuing his wanderings and running away from her.

The season ends with the two of them in the office, looking out the window at the calm, shining ocean. Out in the distance, a faint multicolored light twinkles.

#Colby South Carolina #fantasy #dark #colby is a made up town if its real then thats an accident

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readbookywooks · 7 years

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IN THE DARK CASTLE

WHEN the meal (which was pigeon pie, cold ham, salad, and cakes) had been brought, and all had drawn their chairs up to the table and begun, the Knight continued: "You must understand, friends, that I know nothing of who I was and whence I came into this Dark World. I remember no time when I was not dwelling, as now, at the court of this all but heavenly Queen; but my thought is that she saved me from some evil enchantment and brought me hither of her exceeding bounty. (Honest Frogfoot, your cup is empty. Suffer me to refill it.) And this seems to me the likelier because even now I am bound by a spell, from which my Lady alone can free me. Every night there comes an hour when my mind is most horribly changed, and, after my mind, my body. For first I become furious and wild and would rush upon my dearest friends to kill them, if I were not bound. And soon after that, I turn into the likeness of a great serpent, hungry, fierce, and deadly. (Sir, be pleased to take another breast of pigeon, I entreat you.) So they tell me, and they certainly speak truth, for my Lady says the same. I myself know nothing of it, for when my hour is past I awake forgetful of all that vile fit and in my proper shape and sound mind - saving that I am somewhat wearied. (Little lady, eat one of these honey cakes, which are brought for me from some barbarous land in the far south of the world.) Now the Queen's majesty knows by her art that I shall be freed from this enchantment when once she has made me king of a land in the Overworld and set its crown upon my head. The land is already chosen and the very place of our breaking out. Her Earthmen have worked day and night digging a way beneath it, and have now gone so far and so high that they tunnel not a score of feet beneath the very grass on which the Updwellers of that country walk. It will be very soon now that those Uplanders' fate will come upon them. She herself is at the diggings tonight, and I expect a message to go to her. Then the thin roof of earth which still keeps me from my kingdom will be broken through, and with her to guide me and a thousand Earthmen at my back, I shall ride forth in arms, fall suddenly on our enemies, slay their chief men, cast down their strong places, and doubtless be their crowned king within four and twenty hours." "It's a bit rough luck on them, isn't it?" said Scrubb. "Thou art a lad of a wondrous, quick-working wit!" exclaimed the Knight. "For, on my honour, I had never thought of it so before. I see your meaning." He looked slightly, very slightly troubled for a moment or two; but his face soon cleared and he broke out, with another of his loud laughs, "But fie on gravity! Is it not the most comical and ridiculous thing in the world to think of them all going about their business and never dreaming that under their peaceful fields and floors, only a fathom down, there is a great army ready to break out upon them like a fountain! And they never to have suspected! Why, they themselves, when once the first smart of their defeat is over, can hardly choose but laugh at the thought!" "I don't think it's funny at all," said Jill. "I think you'll be a wicked tyrant." "What?" said the Knight, still laughing and patting her head in a quite infuriating fashion. "Is our little maid a deep politician? But never fear, sweetheart. In ruling that land, I shall do all by the counsel of my Lady, who will then be my Queen too. Her word shall be my law, even as my word will be law to the people we have conquered." "Where I come from," said Jill, who was disliking him more every minute, "they don't think much of men who are bossed about by their wives." "Shalt think otherwise when thou hast a man of thine own, I warrant you," said the Knight, apparently thinking this very funny. "But with my Lady, it is another matter. I am well content to live by her word, who has already saved me from a thousand dangers. No mother has taken pains more tenderly for her child, than the Queen's grace has for me. Why, look you, amid all her cares and business, she rideth out with me in the Overworld many a time and oft to accustom my eyes to the sunlight. And then I must go fully armed and with visor down, so that no man may see my face, and I must speak to no one. For she has found out by art magical that this would hinder my deliverance from the grievous enchantment I lie under. Is not that a lady worthy of a man's whole worship?" "Sounds a very nice lady indeed," said Puddleglum in a voice which meant exactly the opposite. They were thoroughly tired of the Knight's talk before they had finished supper. Puddleglum was thinking, "I wonder what game that witch is really playing with this young fool." Scrubb was thinking, "He's a great baby, really: tied to that woman's apron strings; he's a sap." And Jill was thinking, "He's the silliest, most conceited, selfish pig I've met for a long time." But when the meal was over, the Knight's mood had changed. There was no more laughter about him. "Friends," he said, "my hour is now very near. I am ashamed that you should see me yet I dread being left alone. They will come in presently and bind me hand and foot to yonder chair. Alas, so it must be: for in my fury, they tell me, I would destroy all that I could reach." "I say," said Scrubb, "I'm awfully sorry about your enchantment of course, but what will those fellows do to us when they come to bind you? They talked of putting us in prison. And we don't like all those dark places very much. We'd much rather stay here till you're... better... if we may." "It is well thought of," said the Knight. "By custom none but the Queen herself remains with me in my evil hour. Such is her tender care for my honour that she would not willingly suffer any ears but her own to hear the words I utter in that frenzy. But I could not easily persuade my attendant gnomes that you should be left with me. And I think I hear their soft feet even now upon the stairs. Go through yonder door: it leads into my other apartments. And there, either await my coming when they have unbound me; or, if you will, return and sit with me in my ravings." They followed his directions and passed out of the room by a door which they had not yet seen opened. It brought them, they were pleased to see, not into darkness but into a lighted corridor. They tried various doors and found (what they very badly needed) water for washing and even a looking glass. "He never offered us a wash before supper," said Jill, drying her face. "Selfish, selfcentred pig." "Are we going back to watch the enchantment, or shall we stay here?" said Scrubb. "Stay here, I vote," said Jill. "I'd much rather not see it." But she felt a little inquisitive all the same. "No, go back," said Puddleglum. "We may pick up some information, and we need all we can get. I am sure that Queen is a witch and an enemy. And those Earthmen would knock us on the head as soon as look at us. There's a stronger smell of danger and lies and magic and treason about this land than I've ever smelled before. We need to keep our eyes and ears open." They went back down the corridor and gently pushed the door open. "It's all right," said Scrubb, meaning that there were no Earthmen about. Then they all came back into the room where they had supped. The main door was now shut, concealing the curtain between which they had first entered. The Knight was seated in a curious silver chair, to which he was bound by his ankles, his knees, his elbows, his wrists, and his waist. There was sweat on his forehead and his face was filled with anguish. "Come in, friends," he said, glancing quickly up. "The fit is not yet upon me. Make no noise, for I told that prying chamberlain that you were in bed. Now... I can feel it coming. Quick! Listen while I am master of myself. When the fit is upon me, it well may be that I shall beg and implore you, with entreaties and threatenings, to loosen my bonds. They say I do. I shall call upon you by all that is most dear and most dreadful. But do not listen to me. Harden your hearts and stop your ears. For while I am bound you are safe. But if once I were up and out of this chair, then first would come my fury, and after that" - he shuddered - "the change into a loathsome serpent." "There's no fear of our loosing you," said Puddleglum. "We've no wish to meet wild men; or serpents either." "I should think not," said Scrubb and Jill together. "All the same," added Puddleglum in a whisper. "Don't let's be too sure. Let's be on our guard. We've muffed everything else, you know. He'll be cunning, I shouldn't wonder, once he gets started. Can we trust one another? Do we all promise that whatever he says we don't touch those cords? Whatever he says, mind you?" "Rather!" said Scrubb. "There's nothing in the world he can say or do that'll make me change my mind," said Jill. "Hush! Something's happening," said Puddleglum. The Knight was moaning. His face was as pale as putty, and he writhed in his bonds. And whether because she was sorry for him, or for some other reason, Jill thought that he looked a nicer sort of man than he had looked before. "Ah," he groaned. "Enchantments, enchantments... the heavy, tangled, cold, clammy web of evil magic. Buried alive. Dragged down under the earth, down into the sooty blackness... how many years is it?... Have I lived ten years, or a thousand years, in the pit? Maggotmen all around me. Oh, have mercy. Let me out, let me go back. Let me feel the wind and see the sky... There used to be a little pool. When you looked down into it you could see all the trees growing upside-down in the water, all green, and below them, deep, very deep, the blue sky." He had been speaking in a low voice; now he looked up, fixed his eyes upon them, and said loud and clear: "Quick! I am sane now. Every night I am sane. If only I could get out of this enchanted chair, it would last. I should be a man again. But every night they bind me, and so every night my chance is gone. But you are not enemies. I am not your prisoner. Quick! Cut these cords." "Stand fast! Steady," said Puddleglum to the two children. "I beseech you to hear me," said the Knight, forcing himself to speak calmly. "Have they told you that if I am released from this chair I shall kill you and become a serpent? I see by your faces that they have. It is a lie. It is at this hour that I am in my right mind: it is all the rest of the day that I am enchanted. You are not Earthmen nor witches. Why should you be on their side? Of your courtesy, cut my bonds." "Steady! Steady! Steady!" said the three travellers to one another. "Oh, you have hearts of stone," said the Knight. "Believe me, you look upon a wretch who has suffered almost more than any mortal can bear. What wrong have I ever done you, that you should side with my enemies to keep me in such miseries? And the minutes are slipping past. Now you can save me; when this hour has passed, I shall be witless again - the toy and lap-dog, nay, more likely the pawn and tool, of the most devilish sorceress that ever planned the woe of men. And this night, of all nights, when she is away! You take from me a chance that may never come again." "This is dreadful. I do wish we'd stayed away till it was over," said Jill. "Steady!" said Puddleglum. The prisoner's voice was now rising into a shriek. "Let me go, I say. Give me my sword. My sword! Once I am free I shall take such revenge on Earthmen that Underland will talk of it for a thousand years!" "Now the frenzy is beginning," said Scrubb. "I hope those knots are all right." "Yes," said Puddleglum. "He'd have twice his natural strength if he got free now. And I'm not clever with my sword. He'd get us both, I shouldn't wonder; and then Pole on her own would be left to tackle the snake." The prisoner was now so straining at his bonds that they cut into his wrists and ankles. "Beware," he said. "Beware. One night I did break them. But the witch was there that time. You will not have her to help you tonight. Free me now, and I am your friend. I'm your mortal enemy else." "Cunning, isn't he?" said Puddleglum. "Once and for all," said the prisoner, "I adjure you to set me free. By all fears and all loves, by the bright skies of Overland, by the great Lion, by Aslan himself, I charge you - " "Oh!" cried the three travellers as though they had been hurt. "It's the sign," said Puddleglum. "It was the words of the sign," said Scrubb more cautiously. "Oh, what are we to do?" said Jill. It was a dreadful question. What had been the use of promising one another that they would not on any account set the Knight free, if they were now to do so the first time he happened to call upon a name they really cared about? On the other hand, what had been the use of learning the signs if they weren't going to obey them? Yet could Aslan have really meant them to unbind anyone even a lunatic - who asked it in his name? Could it be a mere accident? Or how if the Queen of the Underworld knew all about the signs and had made the Knight learn this name simply in order to entrap them? But then, supposing this was the real sign?... They had muffed three already; they daren't muff the fourth. "Oh, if only we knew!" said Jill. "I think we do know," said Puddleglum. "Do you mean you think everything will come right if we do untie him?" said Scrubb. "I don't know about that," said Puddleglum. "You see, Aslan didn't tell Pole what would happen. He only told her what to do. That fellow will be the death of us once he's up, I shouldn't wonder. But that doesn't let us off following the sign." They all stood looking at one another with bright eyes. It was a sickening moment. "All right!" said Jill suddenly. "Let's get it over. Good-bye, everyone ...!" They all shook hands. The Knight was screaming by now; there was foam on his cheeks. "Come on, Scrubb," said Puddleglum. He and Scrubb drew their swords and went over to the captive. "In the name of Aslan," they said and began methodically cutting the cords. The instant the prisoner was free, he crossed the room in a single bound, seized his own sword (which had been taken from him and laid on the table), and drew it. "You first!" he cried and fell upon the silver chair. That must have been a good sword. The silver gave way before its edge like string, and in a moment a few twisted fragments, shining on the floor, were all that was left. But as the chair broke, there came from it a bright flash, a sound like small thunder, and (for one moment) a loathsome smell. "Lie there, vile engine of sorcery," he said, "lest your mistress should ever use you for another victim." Then he turned and surveyed his rescuers; and the something wrong, whatever it was, had vanished from his face. "What?" he cried, turning to Puddleglum. "Do I see before me a Marsh-wiggle - a real, live, honest, Narnian Marsh-wiggle?" "Oh, so you have heard of Narnia after all?" said Jill. "Had I forgotten it when I was under the spell?" asked the Knight. "Well, that and all other bedevilments are now over. You may well believe that I know Narnia, for I am Rilian, Prince of Narnia, and Caspian the great King is my father." "Your Royal Highness," said Puddleglum, sinking on one knee (and the children did the same), "we have come hither for no other end than to seek you." "And who are you, my other deliverers?" said the Prince to Scrubb and Jill. "We were sent by Aslan himself from beyond the world's end to seek your Highness," said Scrubb. "I am Eustace who sailed with him to the island of Ramandu." "I owe all three of you a greater debt than I can ever pay," said Prince Rilian. "But my father? Is he yet alive?" "He sailed east again before we left Narnia, my lord," said Puddleglum. "But your Highness must consider that the King is very old. It is ten to one his Majesty must die on the voyage." "He is old, you say. How long then have I been in the power of the witch?' "It is more than ten years since your Highness was lost in the woods at the north side of Narnia." "Ten years!" said the Prince, drawing his hand across his face as if to rub away the past. "Yes, I believe you. For now that I am myself I can remember that enchanted life, though while I was enchanted I could not remember my true self. And now, fair friends - but wait! I hear their feet (does it not sicken a man, that padding woolly tread! faugh!) on the stairs. Lock the door, boy. Or stay. I have a better thought than that. I will fool these Earthmen, if Aslan gives me the wit. Take your cue from me." He walked resolutely to the door and flung it wide open.

#SilverChair

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