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#Now there are only 9 more chapters left to finish this book.
thatonecrookedsmile · 5 months
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So, I've recently been reading Fade To Black for the first time, and I'm making more and more progress. And at the moment I'm currently am, I have already read chapter 21 of this book.
I just wanted to put on record here that I became a different person after reading this chapter. I have been changed. I was saddened. And most importantly, I was destroyed. (ok, that's a pretty heavy word. I didn't cry, but feelings were definitely felt). This book goes hard, I believe.
Oh and also, since I got past chapter 23:
Joey Drew. I'm Gonna Kick Your Ass. Sleep with your eyes open tonight.
That's all. Have a good day everyone.
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yearningagain · 2 months
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it's enough (to make a girl blush)
HIIII EVERYONE so you know that fic i was asking for a beta reader for?? well i found one!! and i'd like to present the first chapter of it's enough (to make a girl blush), my first SERIOUS fic that i 100% intend on finishing!!
i'd like to thank the amazing @kayleeofcamelot for being my lovely beta reader <3
also on AO3!
wc: 1.1k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: none | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham
part two | part three
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"God, fuck- alpha, please ..." Steve begs, sat upon a man's toned, yet lean thigh, grinding and rutting against it as he chased his high. The man chuckled darkly, his hands coming to grip Steve's hips, tight enough that Steve knows there will be bruises, guiding him along roughly.
With barely open eyes, he managed to peek at the hands that would surely leave marks come morning. Dark tendrils of tattoos that stretched from the man’s second knuckle and up his arms. Fingertips calloused and dexterous, nails bitten and paint chipped, and almost every finger has more than two silver rings adorning it, save for his right hands ring finger. No, that finger holds only one ring. An aged, loved, golden band with three small red crystals set in a line.
Small gasps left Steve's lips, every roll of the omega’s hips pressed his cocklette deliciously against the fabric of the omega's thin shorts. Both pants had surely been ruined by the amount of slick that poured out of him, but he couldn't make himself feel bad about it, even if he tried. Something inside him, his omega , told him that the alpha was having just as much fun as he was.
"Ah- ‘M close, alpha..." Steve pants, head feeling pleasantly fuzzy. He could smell how his own scent had changed, the spiced apple scent turning into something heady and thick. Suddenly, he got hit with the most divine scent in the world. Campfire smoke and pine, a hint of petrichor and old books. Home- a whispered thought. It almost sent him over the edge.
Almost.
Then, all of a sudden, everything felt wrong . It was as if he was floating away from his body, his mind a balloon escaping a child's loose clutch. He couldn't smell the alpha, just his own scent turning sour and rotten. The cool sensation of the man's rings where they pressed into bare skin suddenly spread all over, no longer comforting, but as if ice water had engulfed him. Something nagged at him, though, in the back of his mind. Something like a spark, settling into the omega and igniting coals to keep him warm and happy.
And Steve opened his eyes.
Steve glared at himself in the mirror, bare in preparation for a shower. There were no marks, no evidence of anything happening. One more glance over his entire body confirmed that there was nothing left of the alpha. It was a simple wet dream. The only thing that kept him from dismissing the dream entirely was his strong disappointment when he woke up alone, and the low thrum of energy he could feel stemming from his inner omega. (And the slick-soaked sheets he'd have to deal with later.) If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear the whispering rumble of "Mate. Alpha. Mate. Alpha."
He shook himself from his stupor and hopped in the shower. What did it mean, this newfound warmth over someone he'd apparently made up in his mind? Was he really that lonely? No, of course not. 
(Yes. He was.)
After turning over question after question in his mind only to come up blank, he sighed. He'd have to talk to Robin about this. 
Reluctantly set in his decision, he got out of the shower and patted himself dry, threw his hair up in a towel, and put on a fresh pair of sweats. Throwing a glance at his alarm clock, it read 9:57 AM . Robin should be awake by now, hunched over their dinky coffee machine with her eyes still closed and dried drool on her chin. 
It was Sunday, so Robin didn't have class and the bakery Steve worked at, Claudia's Cakes , was closed for the day. He figured he could take her out to lunch. Maybe the deli two doors down from the bakery? He had been having a craving for their Cubano recently. 
Stepping out of his room and shuffling to the kitchen, Steve found Robin exactly like he thought, arms braced on the counter to pillow her resting head. The coffee machine gurgled away, the strong scent mingling with Robin’s earthy strawberry aroma.
"Morning, Robs."
A small groan is all he got in response. He chuckled softly and fetched the sugar and creamer, setting it on the counter next to his best friend's birds nest of bed head. Taking his place at their table, he opened up his phone to check his messages (mostly from Dustin talking about some band he found online).  Soon, Robin slumped into the chair across from him, a mug of coffee placed in front of him as she sipped on her own. Now that she was actually awake, she looked at him with a curious expression.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Steve asked her.
She hummed, taking a calculating look. "No, nothing on your face. You just... you smell different. Not bad different! Just different, like instead of cinnamon apple cake, you smell like roasted apples. And honey? What's up with that?" 
Steve is surprised she doesn't spill her coffee all over the place with how she flings her arms around, emphasizing her question with a pointed finger and finally slamming her mug down.
"I don't know, dude.” Another glare from her. "I really don't! Anyways, did you want to grab lunch at the deli today? My treat."
Sighing and giving him one last glare, she shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I’ve been meaning to stop by the record store, could we swing by on the way back?”
Steve threw a pointed glance to their overflowing record crate below their old record player, a housewarming gift from Robin’s mom. She huffed in response, crossing her arms and mumbled “I just want to look.”
Crimson painted her cheeks and she avoided his gaze, which was all Steve needed to know. He knew Robin had made a friend (or crush rather) in her music theory class at UIC, and she and Steve were basically some sort of cosmic twins, and he knew all of her tells. So when he asked if he’s finally going to meet her, she really shouldn’t be that surprised. She still looked up at him with wide eyes, dropping her arms to the table. Another pointed look from Steve and she relented, “She told me to stop in when I could because she wants to show me this really cool limited edition vinyl the store got in recently and she looked so pretty when she asked, Steve. She had these pigtails and she was wearing this eyeshadow that made her eyes pop and she was wearing the skirt I told you about, the one with the hearts? Yeah, that one! And her sweater was, like, four sizes too big and she looked tiny! Anyways, how could I possibly say no when she looks like that?! She batted her eyelashes at me, Steve. Don’t give me that look.”
The omega simply sighed, shook his head fondly, and stood up. 
“Be ready in an hour, Buckley.”
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shepherds-of-haven · 9 months
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Happy New Year, everyone! I thought it would be fun to do a little retrospective on the game's progress over the last year... Shepherds of Haven has grown so much from the little demo I posted in January 2018, and it continues to steadily build and flourish in so many different and exciting ways! Here's a look at just some of the things we accomplished in 2023!
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I added 143,151 words to the game (2.5 main chapters, 8 new character interludes) in 2023: the equivalent of writing the longest Lord of the Rings book in one year! We also broke our huge 1 million word milestone—without including code—meaning Shepherds of Haven is now officially twice as long as War and Peace, and almost as long as the entire 7-book Harry Potter series... and all in a single game!
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A lot goes into game creation behind the scenes, including the coordination and creation of visual assets for the game—like character cards, codex entries, maps, portraits, and backgrounds—fun stuff for the fans (like the MC info template we created), and songs for the official soundtrack. As the game creeps slowly and determinedly towards its initial completion, that also means learning new things as a solo developer to prepare for the future, like learning to build an official website, researching business and tax practices, and beginning to think about how to conduct testing, publishing, and marketing down the road. Much of what I enumerate here hasn't been made public yet and will continue to cook in the background for a while, but I'm very proud of the work I've gotten done this year and will be excited to unveil more in the future!
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And of course, for even more Shepherds of Haven content, I've added and completed even more stories for our little library on Patreon (which also has sizable word count at this point): The Bridge of Bones (a Trouble and Riel murder mystery), O Happy Dagger (a dark adventure featuring Briony, Chase, and Red), and The Hunt (a wild tale involving Tallys, Halek, Shery, and new kinds of spirits, fey magic, and Elves) were all serial stories completed in 2023, while Some Kind of Virus is a cyberpunk zombie apocalypse AU that will continue to be updated with new chapters monthly.
A full list of the Shepherd short stories and serial novellas (with links) can be viewed here!
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I hope you enjoyed this session of Shepherds of Haven Wrapped! Honestly, this doesn't actually cover everything I've been working on, but some things can't be packaged and listed out neatly, or otherwise won't seem very interesting to anyone else but me! 😂 As we inch through Chapter 9 and get more interludes done (only a few more main chapters to go), I'm hopeful that I'll also be able to find time to work on my next novel, but we'll see if the Shepherds schedule ends up ramping up or settling down as we work steadily towards finishing the main story!
One important thing before wrapping up is to acknowledge your guys' role in this wonderful, wild journey. I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you for your invaluable contributions to the development of Shepherds of Haven. Whether you took the time to share links to the game, supported its growth on Discord or Patreon, left encouraging messages or asked interesting questions, reported bugs, or showcased your remarkable works of fanfiction or fanart, I am sincerely thankful for the unwavering support from this amazing community! Your collective efforts have played a pivotal role in shaping the world of the game into what it is today. Words cannot adequately convey my gratitude for your support, and I am truly blessed to have such a passionate community surrounding this project.
As we step into 2024, I am filled with anticipation for the developments awaiting Shepherds of Haven. Big things are on the horizon, and I am so excited to share these experiences with you! Thank you for being an integral part of this journey, and here's to the continued growth of our shared little world. Cheers to 2024—may it be a year filled with creativity, adventure, and joy! 🎊
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asofspades · 5 months
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I've seen a lot of people trying to get into the BSD light Novels and quite frankly you can read them in order but I do have a recommendation about the order I think makes more sense chronologically regarding the story.
So:
1. LN 3. The Untold Origins of the Armed Detective Agency.
2. LN 1. Osamu Dazai's Entrance Exam.
These two take place prior to the beginning of the main timeline and are actually a great way of understanding Ranpo and the partnership between Dazai and Kunikida (also recommend LN 1 to anime only watchers because they mixed the first chapters of the manga with Dazai's entrance exam which takes place 2 years prior to the manga and they royally screwed up on Kunikida's characterisation by doing that)
3. LN 7. Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen
(the manga was good but I feel like you might understand Dazai and Chūya's dynamic and the difference of their relationship to both Mori and the Mafia once you read this)
4. LN 8. Stormbringer
(you might actually understand Chūya as a character after you read this one, dives a bit deeper into his relationship with Dazai, explains who Verlaine actually is and talks about stuff that's mentioned afterwards in the manga, like singularities)
5. LN 9. The Day I Picked up Dazai side A
(this happens at some point between LN 7 and LN 2, and helps you understand Dazai and Oda's relationship prior to reading LN 2, how Oda ended up in the Mafia and also a bit more dive into Dazai's character)
6. LN 2. Osamu Dazai and The Dark Era
(better than shown in the anime, allows you to see how Oda sees Dazai since it's written from his pov, a good dive into Dazai's character while in the mafia and why he actually left )
Once you finish The Guild arc
7. LN 4. 55 Minutes
8. LN 5. Dead Apple
(so, the first one is a bit crazy but actually dives a lot into Atsushi's character, explains weird phenomena in BSD regarding singularities and how Dazai isn't affected by certain abilities even without touch, how Yosano can actually use her ability on Dazai and I find it quite interesting, HG Wells is an interesting character as well)
(Dead Apple is entertaining and dives once again into characters and their abilities but also explains weird singularities again, also the bond between Dazai and Chūya, it also gets a bit weird towards the end in regards to things happening that might be hard to understand but the rest is easier to understand than in the movie adaptation)
9. LN 9. The Day I Picked up Dazai side B
(it's set in the alternate universe of LN 6. Beast and a great point to understand Dazai's actions and motivations in said light novel)
10. LN 6. Beast
(it should come with a warning that it's going to ruin your mental health for a while, an alternate universe of BSD, brings in the Book so you might one to read this during/after the cannibalism arc because it kind of explains a bit what the book does or how it kind of works, definitely needs a bit more explaining but it is good info before starting with the vampirism arc and all that stuff, the book is important and there's talk about singularities again. It's also cool to see how the same characters adapt to a different lifestyle, Akutagawa in the ADA, Atsushi in the PM, kyouka in the PM but with Atsushi, Dazai if he stayed in the PM, the ending will fully rip your heart out if the rest of the novel hasn't done it before that and I really recommend the manga adaptation of it because the art style is *chef's kiss* and heart wrenching)
Done with my rant now, you can still read them in their publishing order this is just my recommendation. Also, LN 9 is not out on paper yet and I think we only have fan translations online but it is definitely worth it, @popopretty has a really good translation of it.
And LN 7 is getting a manga adaptation which is also looking really good so you can check it out.
LN 5 has a manga adaptation as well as being a film and this one is not written by Asagiri but is still canon so you have that.
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June Creator of the Month: Thosehallowedhalls
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Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month is @thosehallowedhalls.
Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.
Quick Links:
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1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?
I can't remember exactly. 2021, I think? Laws of Attraction was on its tenth chapter.
2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?
I joined in January of this year. I was upset with Crimes of Passion 2, so I wrote a couple of stories about it. I had deactivated my old Tumblr long ago, so I had to open a new one.
3- How did you pick your blog name?
I love old buildings - the history, the ambiance. I tried hallowedhalls, but it was taken, so I added the article.
4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!
I… have zero recollection of this post. But I'm big on nostalgia and mourning past times, so the fact that this was my first post tracks.
5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?
I write fanfiction. I've been teaching myself to draw, but I'm not anywhere near close to sharing what I do.
6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?
I started writing fanfiction way back in… 2010? For about four or five years. Then I stopped until December 2023.
7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?
Crimes of Passion on both counts.
8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?
That would be The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm, inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I do still like it, but I would tighten up the writing a bit. I had barely written any fiction for several years at that point, and the lack of practice shows.
9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?
I keep going back and forth between The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm and Home Without. Both are angsty short series.
10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?
I was taken aback by the comments on The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm. I'd posted it on AO3 a few weeks before, and had gotten a handful of kudos and one comment, but within 24 hours of posting it here, I had several lovely reblogs. It was a welcome surprise. Stories with fewer comments… I guess Home Without. The first chapter got quite a bit of love, but by the time the final chapter rolled around, fewer people were interacting.
11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?
I love a balance, but I'd say angst with a happy ending. I enjoy the breadth of emotions angst lets you explore.
12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?
There are bits and pieces of me in all of them. Emma has my sarcasm, and Raine has my need to look for the best in people. There may be more, but if so, it wasn't done intentionally.
13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?
Perfectionism. Like I said before, the lack of writing practice shows. I know that the only way to get better is to keep writing, but I hate seeing the gap between what I do and what I want to do. Catch-22.
14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?
My Sebastyan x Emma fic, Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. There are only a couple of chapters left, but I've been struggling with it for a couple of months now.
15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?
Oh, hell no.
16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?
So many writers have influenced my writing throughout the years, including authors I do not currently read. The Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Nora Roberts, Jane Austen, Courtney Milan, Alyssa Cole… I could go on and on. Fanfic writers… There are a lot, but off the top of my head, @inlocusmads, @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @gaiuskamilah, @aria-ashryver, @jerzwriter, @dutifullynuttywitch, @aces-and-angels, @petalouda85, and @storyofmychoices. I know there are more.
17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?
Home Without. I'm a sucker for good pining, and I'd love to see all that mutual longing play out onscreen - not to mention that reunion.
18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?
I do. I'm currently working on a horror short story, a MG novel, and a dual timeline mystery that's still in the research stages.
19- What other hobbies do you have?
Reading, non-fandom writing, drawing, learning new things (especially languages!), going on walks, and drinking enough coffee to alarm medical professionals anywhere.
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matttgirlies · 5 months
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Matt & Me🎀
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24
a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.
fem! reader x singer! matt
disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.
warnings - age gap,, sexual references
y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷
Chapter 5
For the next two days I locked myself in my room, unable to eat, unable to sleep. Finally my mother said, “This isn’t going to help. Moping around here isn’t going to bring him back. He’s gone. He’ll be getting into his new life, and so should you.”
I forced myself to go to school and found myself swamped by photographers and reporters who were calling me “the girl he left behind” and barraging me with questions.
“How old are you, Miss y/ln?”
“I’m, uh—”
“Your records show you’re only in the ninth grade.”
“Well, ah, yes, that—”
“How long have you known Mr. Sturniolo?”
“About  . . . just a few months.”
“What is your relationship with him?”
“We’re  . . . just friends.”
“Has he called you since he returned?”
“No, but—”
“Did you know he’s seeing Madison Beer?”
“What?”
“Madison Beer.”
Suddenly feeling sick, I excused myself and left.
Each day there were calls from the United States, with offers of first-class round-trip tickets for me to appear on TV. I declined these as well as offers from top European magazines requesting interviews and photo sessions. Letters poured in from lonesome GIs all over the world. I had attracted their attention, perhaps as a soldier’s sweetheart. I also received letters from Matt’s fans, some friendly and some disheartened that maybe they had lost him.
Days passed into weeks and I became more and more resigned to the fact that Matt was now dating Madison Beer and had completely forgotten me. Twenty-one days after he left, the phone rang at three o’clock in the morning. I jumped out of bed, ran to answer it, and heard his wonderful voice.
“Hi, Baby. How’s my Little Girl?”
“Oh, Matt, I’m fine,” I said. “Only I miss you so. I thought you had forgotten me. Everyone was saying you would.”
“I told you I’d call, y/nn,” he assured me.
“I know, Matt, but there were photographers here and reporters and they kept asking me questions, and—oh, Matt, is it true you’re seeing Madison Beer?”
“Hold it. Hold it! Slow down,” he said, laughing. “No it’s not true that I’m seeing Madison Beer.”
“But they said you were.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Little Girl. You’ll find people trying to stir up trouble, just to make you upset. She’s a friend, Baby, just a friend. I’m appearing on her father’s show, and it was all set up for her to be here at my press conference when I returned to the States. I miss you, Baby. I think about you all the time.”
After that first phone call, I spent all my time writing and rewriting letters to him, but he never wrote back. Then one day he called, sounding very excited.
“I’m leaving for California in two days, Baby. I’m starting my first movie since the Army.”
All I could think about was whether he’d fall in love with his costar. As casually as I could, I asked, “Who’s your leading lady?”
Matt burst out laughing. “You don’t have to worry, Baby, I haven’t met her yet, but I hear she’s real tall. Her name’s Juliet Prowse. She’s a dancer and she’s engaged to Frank Sinatra.”
Relieved, I asked, “What’s the name of the film?”
“Wouldn’t you know it,” he answered, “G.I. Blues. I think it’ll be pretty good. I’m a little concerned that there are too many songs in it, but I think it’ll work out. It had better, or I’ll have a few choice words to say.”
A few weeks later Matt called again. His enthusiasm for G.I. Blues had turned to bitter disappointment.
“I just finished looping the goddamn picture,” he said dejectedly. “And I hate it. They have about twelve songs in it that aren’t worth a cat’s ass,” he said angrily, and then added, “I just had a meeting with Colonel William about it. I want half of them out. I feel like a goddamn idiot breaking into a song while I’m talking to some chick on a train.”
“Well, what’d the Colonel say?” I asked.
“Hell, what could he say? I’m locked into this thing. Already been paid,” he complained. “They seemed to think it’s wonderful. I’m goddamn miserable.”
“Maybe the next one will be better,” I said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, starting to calm down. “The Colonel’s requested better scripts. It’s just this is my first film since I’ve been back and it’s a joke.” There was a long pause as static filled the line. Finally Matt said, “I gotta go, y/nn, and I can barely hear you. I’ll call you soon, be good, I love you.”
I was living in a state of suspended life, waiting for Matt’s infrequent calls. There was never a pattern to them. He would phone out of the blue after three weeks—or three months. He always did most of the talking, chatting about his current film or his costar. Occasionally, he’d talk about Nicole, saying their relationship wasn’t what he had expected when he returned from the Army. He was no longer sure he wanted to be with her. I didn’t know where I stood. Time and distance had created doubts and questions; I wanted to ask him, “Where do I fit in your life? Or do I?”
Matt was still mentioning that he really wanted me to see Graceland, especially at Christmas, when it was its most beautiful. He said I’d meet Pauline, the maid. Matt called her Pauline VO5. He laughed and said, “I’ll tell her, ‘O Five, I’ve got a little girl I want you to meet.”
This gave me some hope of a future. I wanted to believe him when he said he still cared for me. But during the periods when I did not hear from him, I couldn’t help but doubt that I would ever see him again. I heard his latest hit record, “(Marie’s the Name) His Latest Flame,” and felt sure that he’d fallen in love with a girl named Marie.
That summer, Paul Anka was on a European tour. He was to make a guest appearance at a nearby Air Force facility in Wiesbaden. I slyly arranged for my mother to drop me off at the time specified for his arrival. My intentions, unknown to her, were highly contrived and they had to do, strictly, with Matt. I wanted to ask him if by chance he knew Matt and if Matt had ever mentioned me. But when he got out of his car he was surrounded by fans, and I was too shy to push through the crowd to speak to him.
I gleaned every bit of news about Matt that I could. I listened constantly to the overseas radio and scanned every article in The Stars and Stripes newspaper. But each story about Matt I read only upset me all the more. Besides Nicole, he seemed to be romantically linked with many beautiful young starlets in Hollywood—Tuesday Weld, Juliet Prowse, and Anne Helm, among others.
I wrote him: “I need you and want you in every way and, believe me, there’s no one else  . . . I wish to God I were with you now. I need you and all your love more than anything in this world.”
It was a cold, snowy day in March 1962, nearly two years since Matt had left Germany. In the late afternoon, I received a call from him. It had been months since we last spoke.
“I’d like to make arrangements for you to visit me in Los Angeles,” he said. “Do you think we can work it out?”
Stunned, I blurted, “What? I’m not sure. Oh God, I wasn’t expecting this. It’s going to take some time, some planning.”
I didn’t think my father could ever be persuaded to let me go. There were several phone calls with Matt trying to say all the right words to please my parents. I had separate talks with my mother, hoping she’d help me convince Dad.
Once again Matt met every one of Dad’s demands: that we wait until I was out of school for the summer, that Matt send me a first-class round-trip ticket, that he send my parents an exact itinerary of my daily activities for the two weeks I’d be in Los Angeles, that I be constantly chaperoned, and that I write my parents every day.
The next few months might as well have been years. I marked off each day on the calendar until we would be together.
Los Angeles
When the plane landed in Los Angeles, I found the terminal bustling with vacationing students. But I easily spotted Nate Doe, who was still working for Matt.
It was good to see Nate. His big smile and warm embrace were comforting. I loved hearing him tell me I looked great. I didn’t think I did. The last time Matt saw me, I had been fourteen years old and five pounds lighter. I was afraid that he might be disappointed when he saw me, that he might send me home the next day.
I got my first glimpse of Los Angeles when we drove in from the airport. It was beautiful, a far cry from the drabness of postwar Germany. As we passed the MGM studios in Culver City, Nate said, “That’s where Matt films most of his movies.” Soon we were speeding along the legendary Sunset Strip and through the large wrought-iron gates of Bel Air. I was entering a world I’d never experienced. Every home along the winding road seemed grander than the one before.
We turned in at Matt’s house on Bellagio Road, a large home modeled after an Italian villa. We were greeted by Matt’s butler, who introduced himself as Arnold and said, “Mr. S is in the den.” As we walked through the door, I could hear loud music playing and people laughing. Nate led me downstairs.
Before entering, I took a deep breath. The years of waiting were now over.
In the dim light I saw people lounging on a couch and others standing over a jukebox, selecting songs. Then I spotted Matt, dressed in dark trousers, a white shirt, and a black captain’s hat. He was leaning over a pool table, ready to make a shot. I wanted to run to him, but this roomful of people was not the setting I had dreamed of for our first meeting. I continued to stand there, watching him.
He looked up and saw me and after a slight pause his face lit with a smile. “There she is!” he shouted, throwing down his cue stick. “There’s y/n!”
He made his way over to me, picked me up in his arms, and kissed me. I held onto him for as long as I could—until he put me down. “It’s about time,” he said, joking. “Where have you been all my life?”
Aware that every eye in the room was on us, I was uncomfortable and embarrassed. I quickly wiped the tears from my face before anyone noticed. Matt took my hand and introduced me around, and then we sat down together.
“Baby, I’m so glad you’re here,” he kept saying. “I can’t wait to show you around. You’ve grown up. You look great. Let me look at you. Stand up.”
As his eyes surveyed me, I became increasingly self-conscious, and I didn’t want him looking too long. He might find flaws.
He looked terrific, although I was surprised to see that the brown hair he’d had in the Army was now dyed black. He looked thinner, happier.
“Don’t go away,” he said. He kissed me lovingly, then returned to the pool table to finish his game. The night seemed to go slowlytoo slowly. While Matt continued his game a few of the girls eased their way over to me and started talking. They said Matt threw parties almost every night.
Hearing this and watching him as the night progressed, I felt out of touch with his new life, even though the girls told me he talked about me often and even showed my pictures around.
Playing pool, Matt laughed and joked around, and when one of the girls bent over the table to attempt a shot, Matt poked her in the backside with his pool cue. She shrieked in surprise and everyone laughed,everyone except me. I couldn’t help noticing that there had been a slight change in Matt. He’d left Germany a gentle, sensitive, and insecure boy; through the course of the evening I’d see that he now was mischievous and self-confident to the point of cockiness.
He also seemed quick to anger. When a girl cautioned him to watch out for a glass that was perched precariously on the edge of the pool table, he shot her a dirty look, as if to tell her, “Move the glass yourself.”
I felt a surge of uneasiness. I was unsure of what to do or say. Between shots he’d come over and give me an affectionate kiss, ask if I was all right, and then move back for his next shot. Meanwhile, the curious stares of his female admirers never left me.
It was after 12:30 a.m. when Matt finally sat down next to me. Now it was like the old days in Germany: He was suggesting that we go to his bedroom. “Up the stairs, the first door to your right,” he said. “The lights are on. I’ll be right up.” I started to rise. “Wait a few minutes, until I get up and leave,” he said. “That way it won’t look so obvious.”
I wasn’t sure if I liked that. I knew he was protecting me, but there were so many pretty girls around, I wanted to make sure everyone knew he was mine—at least for as long as I was here. I’d waited too long to be discreet. I got up, stretched a little, and politely said good night to everyone, hoping they would know exactly where I was going.
I ran up the stairs and easily found Matt’s bedroom. How different it was from his ordinary-looking quarters in Germany. I never imagined him living in such luxury—thick carpets, exquisite furnishings—but the room had a welcoming, lived-in feeling.
And then my eyes fell on the king-size bed in the middle of the room. I immediately thought of how many women might have slept there  . . . whose bodies he had embraced. . . and even worse, whose lips had passionately pressed his and driven him to ecstasy. I couldn’t think about it anymore.
I walked over to the French doors, which overlooked the driveway, and saw Matt’s guests exchanging good nights as they got into their cars. Knowing he’d probably be coming up soon, I rushed into the large adjoining bathroom.
Within ten minutes, I had jumped in and out of the bathtub, combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and dusted my entire body with some powder I’d found in the medicine cabinet. I put on my favorite blue pajamas and stood motionless before the door leading to the bedroom. I was so apprehensive that I was unable to open the door. This was the moment I had both longed for and feared. I sat down on a chair and remembered that when I’d been fourteen, Matt had said that I was “too young.” Now that I was sixteen I tried to imagine just what this new Matt, who I hardly knew at all, might be expecting of me.
About fifteen minutes later, I heard him as he opened the bedroom door, yelling down to his cousin, Billy Smith, who also worked for him: “Don’t let me sleep later than three tomorrow, Billy.” Then I heard him close the door, lock it, and call out, “Where are you, Baby?”
“I’m in the bathroom,” I shouted. “I’ll be just a few more minutes.”
“Don’t take too long. I want to see my girl.”
I still couldn’t move.
He called again: “What are you doing in there, y/nn? No one takes this long to get ready for bed.”
It was the moment of truth: Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked out. Matt was lying on the bed, facing me. I walked slowly toward him, climbed into the bed, and lay down next to him. Our faces were only inches apart. It was such an unexpected moment of tenderness that I was mesmerised looking into his eyes. We lay there for what seemed like a long time, staring at each other until our eyes filled with tears.
Matt softly touched my face. “God,” he whispered. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you. You’ve been an inspiration to me. Don’t ask me why, but I haven’t been able to put you out of my mind since I left you in Germany. It’s been the one thing that’s kept me going.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer: Tears streamed down my face. Matt took me in his arms and held me close, but I couldn’t get close enough. If I could have gotten inside him, I would have.
“It’s gonna be all right, Baby. I promise you. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We’ll have a good time and not think about you going back.”
As we lay in the dim light, he soon discovered that I was still as untouched as he’d left me two years before. Relieved and pleased, he told me how much this meant to him. It was as if every feeling I had as a woman began to emerge, and I began kissing him passionately. I wanted him—I was ready to submit entirely to him. He returned my passion. Then, abruptly, he stopped.
“Wait a minute, Baby,” he said, speaking softly. “This can get out of hand.”
“Is there anything wrong?” I was fearful that I wasn’t pleasing him. He shook his head, kissed me again, then gently put my hand on him so I could feel for myself just how much he desired me, emotionally and physically. He pressed his body to mine and it felt wonderful.
“Matt, I want you.”
He put his finger to my lips and whispered, “Not yet, not now. We have a lot to look forward to. I’m not going to spoil you. I just want to keep you the way you are for now. There’ll be a right time and place, and when the moment comes, I’ll know it.”
Although confused, I wasn’t about to argue. He made it clear that this was what he wanted. He made it sound so romantic, and, in a strange way, it was something to look forward to—just as he had said.
Later that night he told me that I had to stay with friends of his, George and Shirley Barris. Although I protested, Matt said, “I don’t want to go back on my promise to your father. Besides, if he found out you were staying with me, he’d make you go right home.” It didn’t make any sense, but I got out of bed and Matt had Nate drive me over to the Barrises’ house, where I would spend the night. Reluctantly.
Later I found out through one of the wives whom I had befriended the reason for my spending that first night with George and Shirley. Apparently Nicole had been sent back to Boston the day before, and Matt was taking precautions to avoid any awkward situations for himself that might have resulted from late-night phone calls.
Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.
This material may be protected by copyright.
a/n - longer chapter to make up for the last shorter one🩷
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emblemxeno · 1 month
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Fire Emblem Heroes-CYL Bonus Quotes + My Ideas for the Ones Who Don't Have Them
Choose Your Legends Winners have bonus quotes when they are on a team you enter a map with and playing with English voices (only the English voices have these quotes actually)! These are popular or funny quotes from their home games or other appearances, like Smash Bros.
CYL1
"The future is *not* written."-Lucina's victory quote in Smash Bros.
"Roy's our boy!"-Roy's crowd chant in Smash Bros.
"I'll be your peerless warrior!"-Lyn's promising words to Mark at the end of FE7 prologue
"You... like Ike?"-Ike's crowd chant in Smash Bros.
CYL2
"Take me with you!"-Veronica... I think she says this once to Bruno, but I can't find where specificailly
"Together, we will always stay."-Ephraim's A Support with Eirika
"Nothing will ever come between us."-Celica to Alm as kids during Echoes' opening movie
"I just gotta be me, y'know?"-Hector's A Support with Lyn
CYL5
"Let's go rescue my brother!"-Eirika to her troops at the end of FE8 chapter 6
"Caeda, what's wrong!?"-Marth to Caeda in FE1 chapter 1
"Please forgive me, Goddess..."-A constant sentiment of Marianne's character, and said verbatim once she slays her first enemy in FE16 chapter 2
"There was something to report, wasn't there?"-A staple of Gatekeeper's dialogue, said verbatim in FE16 chapter 5
CYL6
"I am *no* chatterbox."-Reference to Hapi's nickname for Byleth
"There is more than one truth."-What Sigurd's ghost says to Seliph, after Seliph lands the finishing blow on Arvis and waits next to the beach in FE4 chapter 10
"My... autograph?"-Tiki's C Support with Anna
"You are yourself."-Chrom's consoling words to Robin in FE13 chapter 13
CYL8
"Now... what was so damned important?"-F!Robin's B Support with Chrom
"You must be joking."-Felix during his Goddess Tower event in FE16 chapter 9
"One day... I'll be left alone."-A reference to the correct response to one of her advice box questions during FE16's war phase (this one I'm not 100% on, if anyone has corrections let me know in the replies)
"I'm going to kill you, too."-Alfonse to Letizia during Book 6, Chapter 5, Part 5: I Killed Him
However, the winners of CYL3 (2019), CYL4 (2020), and CYL7 (2023) don't have these bonus quotes. The reasons, if the directors or higher ups of the localization team forgot or they weren't too high priority for the time, are unknown. So I thought I'd take a stab at what I think they'd be for those winners.
CYL3
"I'll have their heads on a platter!"-Camilla at the of FE14 chapter 3
"I'm proud I took your hand."-Eliwood's A support with Hector
"I have finally found my purpose."-Micaiah at the end of FE10 chapter 3-F
"This isn't where things end for us!"-Alm to Celica before returning to face Duma together in Echoes Act 5
CYL4
"You think I'm special?"-Lysithea's A support with Claude
"We'll scale the walls between us!"-Claude during Verdant Wind's final cutscene
"Take your first step!"-Edelgard to the Black Eagles after escaping the Holy Tomb
"I am finally home again..."-Dimitri at the end of Azure Moon chapter 18
CYL7
"Remember where you came from."-Mikoto to Corrin at the end of FE14 Revelation chapter 24
"My only wish was to see you again."-Soren to Ike in their base conversation in FE10 Endgame 5
"A gift of revelation..."-Seiðr to the Summoner, Book 7, Chapter 5, Part 1: Goddess's Descent
"Get eaten by a bear. I don't give a damn."-M!Robin's B support with Aversa
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janicho88 · 1 year
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When It All Falls Apart - Chapter 9
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Pairing- ex!Jensen x Padalecki Reader
Word count- 5,300
Warnings- Some language. Dealing with a breakup. Sad reader. Angst, If I missed something let me know!
A/N- Back at a convention we go. Someone lets the cat out of the bag here with the breakup. A little off canon, SPN ended after 10 years. We still got all the characters in during that time though. Thank you to @writercole and @leigh70 for your help with this. You two are amazing!!
Summary-Y/N Padalecki loved acting on Supernatural.  Working alongside your older brother and your boyfriend, but after ten seasons the guys have chosen to hang up the guns.  Now the three of you are moving on to other projects, but that’s all that needs to change right?  While you have moved to Austin to be closer to your family and boyfriend, Jensen is working elsewhere.  Distance is only the start of your troubles.
Series Masterlist
Turns out you really didn’t have a lot of time to think things over once you returned home.  Jared was at the studio, and Gen had her hands full with a wild child and a smelly dog.  You leave her with Tom and take Sadie outside for a bath.  When you come back inside Tom wants you to play with him.  
Jared comes home with your script for the first episode, they had to rework a few things for it.  Before bed you spend some time reading it over and making notes for yourself.  
When you wake up and go down to a late breakfast on Thursday, Gen starts asking about your flight.
“What flight?”
“Aren’t you flying out today, so you can be there all day tomorrow?”
“What are you…OH CRAP THE CONVENTION!”
Jared comes back from his run just as you finish yelling.  “What happened?” he asks, looking between you and his wife before you are dashing from the room.
“I think she forgot it was convention weekend, and that she is supposed to leave today,” Gen tells her husband.
“Got it.”
After a quick shower you are running around your room picking out clothes.  Someone knocks and you holler at them to come in.  Gen walks in looking at the clothes thrown on the bed and the open bathroom bag on the dresser.
“Do you have anything around for this weekend yet?”
“Um, no.  Do you remember ever seeing con pictures of me in this top?” you ask her, holding up a black dress shirt.
“Yes, but only because there is a picture of us together, I have.”
“Crap.”  Throwing that in the no pile you move back to the closet.
“What time is your flight?”
“4:15, should probably leave here around 1:30.  Which is oh, about two hours away now,” you reply with a grimace. 
“What can I do to help?” she asks.
“My bathroom travel things are in the bathroom cabinet.  I hope.  I don’t know why I unpacked that stuff.  Could you throw it in the travel bag please?  There should be hair crap, body wash, face cream, lotion. Whatever makeup is on the counter. Oh and toothbrush and paste.  Will definitely need those, no one wants to get close to the girl with morning breath.” 
Finally figuring out 2 outfits for the days you are there, and one for karaoke, you run out to the pool building to grab your swimsuit.  You never know if you will have time for a swim, but you would rather have it with you and not use it than leave it at home and have free time.   Throwing in some workout clothes and pajamas you are finally good to go.  You pack your carryon bag with your wallet, computer, headphones, a book and some snacks.  
Thirty minutes later your bags are sitting by the bedroom door.  “Okay, I think I’m good to go.”
“Only a small tornado left in your wake.”
Raising an eyebrow you look at Gen, not sure what she means.  She points her finger around your room and you look with a groan.  You currently have more clothes on the bed and floor than are likely in the closet.
“I’ll help you pick ‘em up.”
Half an hour later the room is back together and you won’t have to worry about it when you get home Saturday night.
“Gen, I ever told you you are a lifesaver?”  You ask your sister-in-law as you walk out of your room.
“Eh, it’s been awhile,” she jokes with you.  “But I’m happy to help.”
Taking your things downstairs, you find Tom and Jared on the living room floor building with legos.
“Aunt Y/N, wanna build with us?”
“I can for a few minutes.”
“Are you leaving again?”
“Yeah, I’m off to Orlando, Florida this time.”
“Where’s that?”
“East of here,” he just looks at you, “not that that means anything to you.”
He turns to his dad, “are you leaving too?”
“Saturday morning bud.  That’s in two days, and I’ll be gone for two days.”
“You’re flying out in the morning?” you question.
“Yeah, figured I’d come a little earlier.  They moved some of our stuff around to get more in on Saturday since you won’t be there Sunday.”
“Oh, thanks for doing that.  Sorry you had to.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
After spending a few minutes building a Lego town, you all break for lunch before Jared drives you to the airport.  He tells you to have a safe trip and gives you a hug before getting back in the car and taking off.  
Once you clear check-in and security, you walk around the familiar space, before sitting down and pulling out your book.  It’s finally time to board and you are ready for takeoff.  You’re a little nervous about how this weekend is going to go, and the sooner it’s over with the better. 
After collecting your luggage at the Orlando airport, you look around for Mike and finally see him hurrying through the doors.  You wave at him to get his attention, he slows a little but is still moving quickly.
“Sorry, traffic was a lot worse than I thought it would be.”
“It’s no problem, I just got my bag.  How are you doing?”
“I’m good, thanks.  How about you?”
“I’m fine.”
The trip to the hotel took longer than usual also.  Mike was right about the current traffic.  While the convention and most of the guests were staying at the Doubletree Hotel, they had the cast at Embassy suites.  It was a few minutes away, but not too bad.
Mike had your hotel key with him, and asked if there was anywhere you needed him to stop before dropping you off.  You told him no, and he went right to the hotel. 
You found your way up to the room without any problem. It’s close to 9, and your stomach is grumbling.  You head down to the cafe in the hotel before it closes to grab something for dinner. The dining area is in the middle of the main floor. 
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Looking up you can see the walkways on every floor around it.  Instead of sitting at the bar, you grab a table off to the side.  While you are picking at your sandwich, two hands clamp down on your shoulders and whisper “gotcha.”
You can’t help but scream out.
“Oh shit, way to go Bri,” Kim says as she sits down across from you.
You hold up your hand and repeat, “sorry, sorry,” to those still dining around you.  At least this late there aren’t too many people around.
Briana sits down next to you and picks a fry out of your half eaten basket, “sorry about that.”
“It’s fine, I didn’t even see you two walk in.”  You look at the pajamas they’re wearing, “how was the pj party?”
“It was good.  Lots of fun, like usual,” Kim tells you.
“Yeah, I get alcohol in there now, it’s fuckin great,” Bri agrees. 
“So what are you doing here so early?” Kim asks.
“I had to change my schedule around because I can’t stay on Sunday.”
“Oh something exciting going on?  Has to be to pull you away from Jay,” Briana questions.
“Not really exciting, I just have to leave Saturday.”
The girls look at each other, then back at you.  “You aren’t telling us something.  We’ll let it go for now, but we will get it out of you,”  Kim says in her best Carrie Martin voice.
“Okay, mom.”
Thankfully, they change the subject and talk about what has been going on with themselves the last few weeks.  You are pretty vague when it comes to yourself.  Before long, you are all calling it a night and heading up to your respective rooms.
The beeping of your alarm wakes you Friday morning, with a groan you get up to start your day.  It’s early enough, you can make your way to the second floor where the outdoor pool is located.  Hopefully a few laps will help you wake up.  Back in the room you go through your morning routine of making yourself presentable for all the photo ops you will have.  Your cell notifies you of an incoming text, letting you know Mike is on his way.
He drops you off at the convention hotel, at one of the back entrances.  Chelsea is waiting for you at the door.  
“Hey!” you greet her with a hug before moving inside.  “Nice to see you again.”  You never know who your handler will be until you arrive at the conventions.  You work with Chelsea a lot, but it’s not uncommon to have one of the other girls.  As long as it’s not Victoria, you’re good.
She hands you a coffee and starts going over your schedule on the way to the green room.  First up on the schedule is a 10 am Meet and Greet (M&G). She leads you down when it gets closer and takes her seat in the corner as you greet the fans and answer the questions.
As that half an hour winds down, Adam Fergus comes in the side door.  “Someone’s got an early start to her day.  I don’t usually see you around this early.”
“Yeah, my schedule is a little off this weekend.  I’m guessing if you’re here then our time is up.” With a frown you turn to the group of fans.  “I had a lot of fun with you all, thank you.”
You wave to them as everyone gets up and they are being led to the exit.  Walking over to Adam you give him a hug in greeting, you don’t have time to catch up because his M&G group is being brought in.
Back in the green room they have some pictures for you to sign. You hear DJ Qualls take the stage for the first panel.  Julian Richings, has the second.  He doesn’t make it to many conventions, so it is always nice to see him.  You mentally make a note that you want to get a picture with him before he leaves. 
You have various photo ops, and a panel with Kim and Briana later in the afternoon.  After the day programing wraps up, a good two hours of autographs.  It’s a little after 6, by the time you are finished.  Bri and Kim are already done, Adam and David are also finishing up, everyone else is gone. A group text had gone out earlier about ordering dinner to be delivered to the hotel tonight.  As the three of you get in the car to go back to the hotel, Bri lets you all know it’s on the way now and there are some tables by the pool where you can all eat.
Arriving back at the hotel, the three of you all head to your rooms to change before meeting them for dinner.  You throw your suit on under your clothes, and head to the outdoor pool area. 
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Rich is still at the convention center for Dick chat, but you, Kim, Bri, David, Adam, DJ, Julian and Sam Smith are all back at the hotel.  Conversation flows a little more freely when there isn’t anyone else around.  They do have some questions about Jensen and his new suit you have to field.
“Did you get to see him in that suit when you were in Toronto?” Kim asks.
“What she really wants to know is, did you get to do him in that suit?” Bri interjects, and the guys all groan.
“No, I never made it to set, they keep things pretty tight up there,” you tell them.
“Yeah they do.  Suit couldn’t have been much tighter.”
“Not what I meant Bri.”
“Has he told you any behind the scenes secrets?” Sam asks.
“Nope, I know probably as much as you guys do.”
You do your best to turn the conversation to other topics and away from you or Jensen, when it seems to quit working you go hop in the pool.  Before too long you need to get ready to go back for Karaoke.  
Adam, David, DJ, Julian, Sam and you, all are going back.  Bri and Kim are bowing out of this one.  When you arrive back, the fans are still watching the screening of ‘Yellow Fever.’  There are a variety of drinks set up in the green for you all. 
Adam looks over the table, “what flavor of ‘apple juice’ shall we start with?”
“Something we aren’t going to regret tomorrow morning, would be great,” you tell him.
“Chicago was your own fault Lil Pad, you all were shooting them back a bit quick,” he fires back.
“I blame Bri,” you say with a shrug.
It isn’t long before the film is over and the stage is set for karaoke.  With your red solo cups the six of you make your way on stage, while Adam draws the first name.  Those that come on stage give it their all, and the crowd is singing along too.  Adam is all over the stage and starts running up and down the aisles as well, which keeps not only his handler, but others busy watching him as well. 
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An hour and a half later, the event is winding down and you’re definitely ready to get back to the hotel and relax before bed.  Well, after you pack.  You aren’t used to leaving on Saturday afternoons.  
The next morning there are two cars to take nine of you over to the convention hotel a little after nine.  Adam, David and Jason don’t have to be there until ten.  There is breakfast waiting in the green room along with the group's Starbucks order.  Rob is talking with the band before looking for you.
“Y/N, did you text me the song you wanted to sing tonight?  I can’t seem to find it.”
“I won’t be at the concert tonight, sorry guys.  I head out this afternoon.”
“What?  That is unacceptable,” he jokes with you.  “Is your other half going to cover for you?”
“I have no idea what they are doing tonight.”
Rob, Rich and Louden Swain soon take the stage to start the day and then they call you, Bri, Kim and Sam to the stage.  Things are going well, you all are talking, joking, and occasionally answering questions.  At least until a little over halfway through when you get a question that catches you completely off guard.
A girl comes up to the mike and looks right at you.  “My question is for Y/N.”
“I know her, she’s right here,” Kim jokes, pointing to you.
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“What do you have for me sweetie?”
“How could you break up with Jensen?”
The whole room goes quiet, you stare at the girl, and everyone else is looking at you. “What?” you finally stutter.
“He announced it this morning during an interview.”
Everyone is still looking at you,  Sam is one of the first to recover.  “Um, maybe this isn’t the…’
“Thanks, Sam, it’s alright.  I don’t know what Jensen said about this.  But we both have different projects we’re working on.  And um, I guess you hope things are going to work out one way, but sometimes life has other plans.  I would appreciate though, if um, there weren’t any more questions on this right now.  It’s supposed to be a fun weekend, let’s not bring it down okay?”
You try and focus on the last twenty minutes of the panel, but your brain keeps going back to that girl's question, and how could Jensen do that today?  Why did he feel the need to announce it during an interview even?
When Rob and Rich come back on stage with the band you barely wait for them to start singing you off before you are gone down the steps.  You see your brother right behind the curtain, he pulls you into a hug and walks with you back to the green room area.  
“Are you alright?” he quietly asks.
“Just great.  Have you seen the interview?”
“Not yet.”
You ignore Victoria sitting in the corner with a smug smile and go to the opposite side of the room with Jared.  Pulling out your phone you search for the interview.  Bri, Kim and Sam had been following you two, but they realize what you are doing and move to give you some room.  Finding the video you push play.
Jensen is with Karl, Jack, Chase, Anthony, and sitting right next to him is Claudia.  Watching the interview from this morning's talk show appearance, you aren't really paying attention to what’s being said, just trying to find the spot where Jensen throws you under the bus.  
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The interviewer makes a comment about how some of them have said they don’t want their parents to watch, but what about their significant others? 
Claudia is the first to do anything, she laughs before speaking.  “Well, Anthony is the only one of us currently in a relationship, so he’ll have to take that one.”  
You notice Jensen makes a slight movement to look at Claudia out of the corner of his eye, and some of his castmates are looking at him as Anthony answers.  When he’s finished the interviewer turns it back to Jensen.
“Aren’t you dating your former co-star, Y/N Padalecki?”
Claudia speaks up before Jensen can say a word, “ not any more she came up here just to break up with him because he was working.”  She leans closer to your ex, and you can’t help but notice the way she is rubbing her hand up and down the top of his leg.  Yeah, you aren’t so sure something isn’t going on there.
“We’re so sorry to hear that,” Don, Dan, whoever says to Jay.
“Long distance doesn’t work out for everyone, and I guess we just wanted different things,” Jensen finally speaks up. 
The interviewer moves the topic back to the show and continues on.
“I cannot believe him.”
“In his defense,” your brother starts, “he didn’t really announce the breakup.”
“He had to have been talking about it with her, and he didn’t make a move to stop her, did he?  Didn’t take him long to move on.”
You turn around and notice your friends on the other side of the room trying not to look at you.  With a sigh, you drop your head back and know you have some explaining to do.  Before you can get very far, a nervous Chelsea comes and tells you you are needed for your VIP M&G and then photo ops.
 After your solo ops, you have photos with the ladies.  Even though they want to ask, there is no time for questions now.  Jared comes down for his ops with you, when those are finished you are done with photos for this convention.  You give Chris a hug and tell him thanks before you follow your brother and handlers out of the room.  The last of your autographs are next, it takes well over an hour for you to finish up.  There are some comments about you and Jensen, mostly I’m sorry to hear you broke up.  But a few rude ones, that couldn’t understand why you would do that.
Walking into the green room you notice almost everyone is in there, since there is a little bit of a break.  Grabbing a water you sit on the edge of a table, with Jared coming up next to you.
“I know you all want to know what’s going on, so here it is.  Yes, Jay and I aren’t together anymore.  No, I didn’t go up to Toronto just to break up with him.  It just happened while I was up there.  I’m just not really ready to talk more about it right now.”
They all nod, Sam comes over and gives you a hug, Bri and Kim are right behind her.
“This the reason for the schedule change?” Bri quietly asks.  You just nod.
Looking at the time, you make sure everything you were supposed to have autographed is done.  The few things you have gotten out of your bag are packed back up.  Jared is about to head to one of his M&G’s, you give him a hug before he goes.
“You alright?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Liar.  Have a safe flight.  I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Thanks.  Hope all goes well here.  Have a safe flight tomorrow.  See ya soon.”
You tell the rest of the group goodbye before you head out.  You still have a little time before your 3:30 flight, but you want to get out of there before Jensen arrives.  Once you are all checked in at the airport, you find a quiet spot to sit, and go through your phone.  You know you shouldn’t, but you bet the comments are flying about you right now.  You aren’t wrong.
Earlier that morning up in Toronto, Jensen is boarding the plane for Florida.  He finds his seat, throws his bag up top and sits down with a huff.  He hadn’t had the morning he was expecting to.  
His phone went off early this morning, someone from the show calling to tell him he was needed for an interview at the studio.  Jesse was sick and unable to make it, they were asking him to fill in.  He hurries to get cleaned up and make sure he has everything he needs to fly down for the convention.  
Everyone else is already at the studio, they do a quick hair and makeup fix on him. Karl comes over to see how he’s doing.
“Ready for ya trip?”
“I think so.”
“Ya talked to her since she left?”
“No.  But I don’t know what more she wanted from me. I haven’t figured out if I want to see her or not.  Haven’t talked to Jared either.  That’ll be interesting.”
“Maybe, ya just needed some time apart, and you two can work it out this weekend.”
“If it was space she needed, she wouldn't have broken up with me when she came up here.  We had plenty of space living in two different countries.”
What neither man notices is Claudia hanging around behind them.
When it’s almost time, they have the cast take a seat and the interviewer comes out and sits across from them.  Getting the cue from the studio they start rolling. Everything was going fine until the question about spouses came up and Claudia started talking.  Jensen is too busy trying to figure out how she knows to even speak.  He looks at her out of the corner of his eye before slightly looking at Karl, who is also looking at him.
Once his mind catches up he tries to shut the topic down before anymore can be said.  When the camera moves away from him, he moves Claudia’s hand off his leg.  By the time the interview is over, he can’t stay and question her about it, he has to get to the airport.   He sends Karl a text on the way.
Any idea how she knew that?
Karl and Eric are the only two up here he had talked to about this.  He gets a reply a short time later,
Not a bloody clue.
Once he gets to the airport, he doesn’t have a lot of time before the plane is supposed to take off.  He is hoping since a number of fans will already be busy at the start of the convention day, word of the interview will take awhile to get around.  There is nothing on his phone when he powers it down before takeoff.  Sitting back he spends the flight looking over the final script of the season.
Arriving at the hotel, Mike gives him his room key and Jensen tells him he'll be back down in ten minutes.  That gives him time to find his room, leave his bag, and change out of the airport clothes.
Clif is waiting at the back entrance of the convention center when he is dropped off there. He follows him up to the green room, where Victoria is waiting.
“Jensen, great to see you again. Hope you’re doing well.”
“Fine, thanks. You?”
“Good.  I’m happy to be here.  The suit reveal you posted on Instagram was amazing.  I can’t wait until the show premieres.”
“Thanks. So, what’s first on my schedule?” he asks when she doesn’t tell him.
“Oh, solo pictures in a few minutes, then with Misha.  You have a short break before the VIP M&G, then the regular one.”
“Ok. Do you know where Y/N is?”
“She’s around somewhere.”
He gets through his photo ops, and looks for you on his way to the M&G’s.  He doesn’t see you around anywhere.  It’s about halfway through the main M&G when someone mentions they are sorry to hear about what Y/N did.
He’s slightly confused, “what did she do?”
“How she came up to Toronto to, well you know…”
It suddenly clicks, the interview.  Guess word got around.  “Y/N’s an amazing woman, but unfortunately things didn’t work out.”
“How does this affect you and Jared?”
“If one of us comes on stage tomorrow with a black eye, you’ll know,” he tries to joke.
Finally making it through that half an hour he is escorted back to the green room.  Sam is the only one in the room and she is getting ready to go back to photos.  He grabs a water and sits at one of the tables, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it.  Opening twitter he receives a notification he’s trending, and so are you.  “If we’re both trending, I bet I know what that’s for,” he mumbles.
“Who’s fault is that?” a voice behind him asks.
Taking a deep breath, he readies himself to turn around and face his best friend.  Who also happens to be your older brother.
“Hey Jare.”
“Ackles.  You didn’t answer my question.”
He holds up his hands, “Look man, I never intended for that to come out this morning.  I don’t even know how she knew.”
“You didn’t tell her?  The two of you seemed pretty close.”
“The only two I’ve talked to are Karl and Eric.  I haven’t talked to you, because she’s your sister, so I didn’t know where that put us.”
“That makes two of us.  What happened between you two, Jay?”
“I don’t know.  I don’t know what more she wanted from me.  I thought we were fine.  Then she comes up to Toronto and tells me she can’t do it anymore.  Where did that even come from?”
“She’s been hurting for awhile, but the one person who was supposed to notice it, didn’t have a fucking clue.  In case you were wondering, that was you.”
“Then why didn’t she talk to me about it earlier?”
“Did you two even talk anymore?”
“Of course we did.”
Jared raises his eyebrows and slowly nods.  “Really? All I know is, I’ve heard her cry, both before and after she went to see you.  Gen and I were hoping going up to visit would have made things better, but it didn’t.  I’ve seen the hate she is getting today, she was blindsided in her morning panel because of your interview.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s gone.”
“Back at the hotel?
Jared looks at his watch, “no, she should be landing in Austin in about 30-40 minutes.”
“She left the convention?”
“Yeah.”
In that moment, knowing you were already gone, he had his answer.  He had been hoping to see you.  “Was it because of the interview?”
“No, she had already planned it.
“She didn’t want to see me.”
Jared shrugs, but they both know the answer.
“What about you?” Jensen asks him.
“Your mug is pretty ugly to look at.”  Jensen rolls his eyes before Jared continues.  “She keeps telling me not to let what happens with the two of you interfere with our friendship.  But it’s hard not to be upset with the guy that hurt my sister.  You have no idea how much I would love to take a swing at you right now.”
He nods in understanding, “I guess I could possibly deserve that.  But she isn’t the only one that was hurt here.  She blindsided me with that breakup,” Jensen tells him before he walks over to where Victoria is signaling him from.
The two men go out for their autograph sessions a little quieter than usual.  Clif asks them after what their plans are for the night, but both just opt to go back to the hotel and their respective rooms.  The next morning is a quiet ride with Clif back to the convention hotel.  
The guys are in the green room waiting for the start of the Gold Panel.
“I, uh, talked with Gen last night.  Y/N, got home safe last night.  She was still a bit upset at being caught off guard like that.  I told Gen what you said about the interview.  Not sure Y/N will believe us though.”
“Thanks, man.  Um, how’s Tom?”
“Good.  Keeps us on our toes, for sure.  I can’t imagine how crazy it’ll be with two.  He asked yesterday before I left when he could talk to you again.”
“I miss my buddy.  Wait.  Did you say two?”
“Yeah.”
“Gen’s pregnant?  Congrats buddy.”  Jensen moves to give his friend a hug.
“Thanks.  I thought we talked about this a month ago in Chicago?  Hasn’t Y/N said anything to you?”
Jensen is quiet for a few minutes, he can’t believe he missed this news.  Had the two of you talked about it?  Did Jared already tell him?  
They continue talking before going on stage.  The conversation doesn’t get deep, but they are trying to find their rhythm and work past this sinkhole in their friendship.  They have to make it work on stage very shortly.  It will take some time before things are like they were before, but neither one wants to lose a 10 year friendship.
The gold panel questions aren’t vetted first, so anything goes.  Which of course means there is going to be a question about the breakup eventually.
“Jensen we are so sorry to hear about what happened between you and Y/N, it’s just awful.  How are you holding up?” Someone questions.
He knows he needs to try and nip this before it keeps going.  “Thanks.  I will say this, and then I would appreciate it if there weren’t any more questions on this subject.  I had no intention of that coming out in the interview yesterday.  What’s going on is between Y/N and I.  Long distance can really suck.  You guys wouldn’t want to talk about your relationship troubles in front of hundreds of people.  I would hope you understand that we don’t either right now.”
When their afternoon panel comes around he has to make the same announcement at one point.  Jensen swears during photos and autographs that more fans than usual seem to be trying to flirt with him.
When they are finished for the day, Clif takes them both to the airport.  Their flights aren't too far apart in departure time.  Jensen tells Jared he’ll be back home in two weeks, and they talk about meeting up once he’s back in Texas.  After checking in, they head to their respective terminals.  
Jensen is waiting for his flight, feeling a little disappointed.  It would have hurt, but he would have liked to see you this weekend.  He’s spent a good part of the last 24 hours thinking about what Jared told him.  How you had been hurting for a while.  How had he not realized you weren’t happy any longer?
Thank you for reading!
Chapter 10
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ereawrites · 1 year
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Book Club (Kakashi Hatake)
Chapter 2 - Another Ambush, Poorly Executed
You learn very quickly that Naruto Uzumaki has a big mouth.
word count 5.7k (chapter 2/9 - 7.6k words total)
read it on ao3 here
Kakashi arrives on time, for once. Part of you is a little disappointed - your genin only left an hour ago, and since you had them up at the asscrack of dawn, you were hopeful you'd be able to squeeze in a nap before Kakashi arrived to spar. You'd even spent extra time choosing a particularly comfortable tree to lean back against. As it is, you're only just finishing your lunch when you sense his chakra in the forest behind you. 
"Good afternoon, Kakashi!", you call out through a mouthful of rice once he's within earshot. "Surely my watch is broken!"
"Aah... is my reputation really that bad?"
You snicker as he drops down from a branch, landing with his hands in his pockets. "I've heard rumours that Tsunade-sama has included in your file you're to be told missions start an hour earlier than they actually do." Lady Tsunade has taken fantastically to her role as Hokage, but you still see a shadow of worry pass over Kakashi. No doubt he's reminded of Orochimaru; you've heard rumours about the Uchiha boy, too, that are perhaps best to steer away from.
Kakashi is back to his usual, blank-faced self before you can think of something to say. "Well, old age slows you down, so they say." 
You scowl at him and push to your feet. "We're the same age, Hatake. Didn't you ever learn not to call a lady old?" Unfortunately, you back gives a resounding pop when you straighten, which you feel rather takes the threat out of your words. He chuckles.
"You're slower getting up than you used to be.", Kakashi notes, not unkindly. You toss another scowl, along with your flak jacket, freeing up your arms to really stretch out the tension from your morning training session. 
"Hey, my genin are getting stronger! Sometimes I actually have to try when we're sparring now. It's weird. And exhausting. I'm just counting down the days 'til they pass the Chuunin exams and I can get some peace and quiet." A few rolls of your neck have you feeling much better; you take back your jacket from Kakashi, then crouch to strap your weapons pouches back on.
He begins to prepare himself, too, rewrapping his bandages and checking his pockets. "I saw them in the market on my way here. You have the Inuzuka girl, don't you? She's... very loud. Almost as much Naruto."
"Keiko-", you groan fondly, "She's insane, Kakashi. I've never known a kid to be so utterly crazy. If I ever came up against her in a real battle I think I'd just kill myself to save the headache." He hums in sympathy - from what you've heard, his own team are even more of a handful. Since you started teaching Keiko basic fire-type chakra control, she's developed a particular affinity for blowing things up. You've since been instructed to keep these training sessions away from trees, homes, and anything else remotely flammable. But she's also an incredibly sweet kid when you aren't chasing her around, and her companion Aomaru is a real cutie.
Kakashi tosses his flak jacket against the base of a tree trunk, and you're pretty sure you see Icha Icha poking out one of the pockets. Come to think of it, it is pretty hot now the sun is up. You leave your own jacket next to his, then peel off your long-sleeve too, leaving you in a tank top that exposes the scar of your old ANBU tattoo. His eye flickers over it knowingly. You'd left the organisation just a few months after him, released back onto regular duty after the Uchiha massacre left the village short on jonin, and readjusting proved a challenge for both of you. You rub a palm over the faded skin there, and decide to put it out of your mind.
"Shall we focus on Taijutsu today?", you suggest brightly, leading the way onto the pitch. 
"You sounded far too much like Gai just now."
You cackle, throwing yourself into a high somersault, and perform several flips before landing on the other side of the midway line to Kakashi. "It's because I'm so youthful and energetic, rival! All I need now is the green jumpsuit!"
"Stop it-", he grumbles, pinching his nose. "-I was looking forward to a training session that wouldn't leave me with a headache for once."
You grin. "When I'm finished with you, your whole body will be aching." You didn't even really mean that as an innuendo, but you're still pleasantly surprised to see how he stiffens for a split second. "So, Taijutsu?"
"Alright, then.", he nods, then he's vaulting into in the air and over your head and landing behind you without a sound, and you're sensing his familiar chakra start to thrum before you've even spun to meet him.
He throws a punch at the back of your head and you sidestep it, turning in to a high kick that he easily dodges; then he's coming at you again, a barrage of punches that you deflect and dodge and catch, barely even breathing hard. He's so relentless you have no chances to hit back, effortlessly guarding himself even as he rains down strikes on your forearms. It feels good to train like this, your movements flowing like water as you dance around him. You were always agile, even when you were a kid and you didn't even know what Taijutsu was. Sharingan no Kakashi is quick, but you are too. 
The next time he strikes high you feint left, then right, watching his eye flash to keep up with you - there, he's watching your feet instead of your hands - you catch his wrist and use his momentum to pull his arm past your head, turning and driving your other elbow up into his ribcage. Kakashi grunts, twists free of you, and all of a sudden there's a foot driving into the back of your knee. You drop but manage to keep your balance, rolling around him and springing back to your feet just as he's on you again.
"It isn't like you to focus so much on offence-", you state matter-of-factly, letting him continue to bear down on you in the hopes of tiring him out a little. "You always let your opponents come to you, back in ANBU."
Kakashi doesn't so much as look at your face. "In those situations, I knew nothing about my opponents. It was better to stand back and let them reveal their weaknesses on their own." He's pressing you back so hard that you have no choice but to give ground. The trees are behind you and the sun is glinting off his hitai-ate and he mixes in a low kick, forcing you to leap backwards. At least he's starting to sound just slightly out of breath.
"On the other hand, I know how you fight. We've been teammates on enough missions for me to know your patterns." He says this as if he's discussing the weather, and not ramping up the intensity to push you backwards even faster. You cast out your chakra behind you and are instantly met with forest: he has you backed up against a solid tree trunk - you move as quickly as you can, darting left and pushing chakra from the soles of your feet to give you an explosive boost, flitting into the empty space behind him-
He catches you.
Kakashi's hand is around your neck and he's got you pressed against the tree trunk. "For example.", he continues, eye turned up in a smile. "You always go left when you're cornered." 
...Damn. You do, don't you?
Despite your irritation at being read so easily, despite the fact you'd be dead if this was real, you laugh. Old enough to have a bad back, but at least not so old you can't learn. Kakashi's fingers are right up against your pulse point, surprisingly gentle considering the force with which he'd thrown you into the tree, and they loosen even more as you laugh. Now. You bring your knee up and kick him away square in the chest. It buys you enough time to slip into the cover of the forest, even if you're certain he let you land that hit on purpose.
The fight continues as you chase each other halfway around the forest and back again. You're determined to be more aggressive now, and to prove that you know him just as well as he knows you. So you hurl yourself at him over and over again, hardly letting him dodge around one tree before you're dropping on him from the boughs of the next, grappling with him when you reach clearings, even going so far as to drop a particularly large branch onto his head at one point.
Dodging it easily, Kakashi stares up at you. "That poor tree might miss that branch.", he deadpans, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with the weight of his panting breaths. He's stalling for time, but you're honestly glad of the break.
"Call it a casualty of war.", you say mournfully, too tired to think of a cleverer comeback. Your chest is heaving. Kakashi has always had more stamina than you, and the heat isn't helping even under the green-tinged shade of the tree canopy. A bead of sweat rolls from your hairline and all the way down your neck. There's no two ways about it, you're considerably more tired than Kakashi - but you're having so much fun. You haven't faced up against him properly since you were kids, and it's nice (if not a little strange) to see how far you've both come.
"Want to call it a day?", the silver-haired jonin calls. Clearly he can see how exhausted you are, and he sounds pretty tired too. You don't even pretend to consider his offer. He's already one-upped you, and you're no Gai, but you're not willing to accept any kind of defeat from a man who reads smut in public.
Instead, you pull a kunai from your pouch. "Absolutely not." Then you launch at him, and the fight continues. Sparks fly between your kunai with every strike, the sound of metal against metal and heavy breaths the only sound in the forest. Kakashi manages to back you up against another tree, but this time you jump and go over his head - he's smiling at you when you land, still smiling when he kicks you in the ribs, but it vanishes from his eye when you put a blast of chakra into your next palm strike and send him crashing back into that very same trunk. The forest is going to be ruined if you're not careful. Perhaps you can blame Keiko.
The battle has you dancing through the trees for what feels like only the blink of an eye, but by the time you're back out on the training pitch, the sun is lower in the sky than you remember. Every muscle in your body is screaming out in agony. You keep coming at him, pleased that even this tired your kunai is barely more than a quick glint in the sunlight. When the flow of motion takes you onto the river that rushes along the western edge of the pitch, you welcome it, pushing chakra from the soles of your feet and relishing in the cool breeze that comes off the water. Kakashi doesn't even cause the water to ripple when he chases you - an impressive display of chakra control even at your level.
Against a different opponent, you would hope to distract them from their chakra control, force them to plunge into the river rather than take a direct hit. But Kakashi doesn't so much as stagger when you go back on the offensive, not even when you sweep at his legs and he somersaults backwards onto the deeper water. It's frustrating, especially when you're this exhausted. So, you kick up a spray of water right into his face, a frankly childish move your genin have resorted to before.
He emerges looking distinctly like a wet dog, shaking his hair in a way that would be endearing if you weren't so focused on dashing forward into a shoulder strike; Kakashi lets you barge right into his chest, absorbing the impact, and he's wrapping his arms around you and then throwing you up over his head and it's all you can do to stay afloat as your back slams against the water - this is it, he's got you, you're too worn out and sweaty to roll away, so you just stare up at him and he - hang on, did he just glance at your chest? - the desperate wave of chakra you sent out to cushion your impact must have knocked his off balance because he's falling, one foot plunging into the river - you have your kunai at his throat before he's even on his knees.
"A draw?", you suggest, still on your back, practically gasping for breath. This is the best you can hope for against an opponent like him.
Kakashi is kneeling behind you, one hand on each side of your head, throat pulsing against the point of your blade. He's blank-faced for a moment, then blinks. "Alright, then." 
You gladly drop your kunai, roll onto your stomach, and push to your feet with all the grace of an especially fat old dog. Kakashi's hand finds your bicep to give you a welcome boost. "I'd hate to have you as a sensei. I think I'd die if I had to fight like that every day.", you groan. As tough as you can be on your team, you've heard that Kakashi is much worse. It's a relief to get back onto solid ground and let your chakra melt away.
"Your endurance is really quite good, you know.", Kakashi replies. Although you do know, you can't help but feel flattered.
"Well, I must be getting lazy in my old age.", you tease, glad to see a sheepish crinkle to his eye. He brings both hands up in a mock surrender, hunching over, and he looks for all the world like a bedraggled cat with his floppy, dripping hair and one wet trouser leg. No doubt you look just as ridiculous - covered in sweat, with twigs in your hair and bruises already starting to form on your arms. Both of you are walking much more slowly than tiredness calls for.
By the time you reach the pile of your things, all you're really thinking about is a hot shower, and maybe a trip to the ramen stand this evening. You toss Kakashi his flak jacket and are reaching for your water container when you remember what you saw in his pocket earlier. "So, how are you finding that action novel?"
Kakashi splutters through his own mouthful of water. You quirk a concerned eyebrow at him as he pounds his chest. "Hah... I haven't had much time for reading this week, you know, my genin team have really been keeping me busy."
"That's a shame-", you shrug nonchalantly, starting to bundle your things into your backpack. You'll walk home without your jacket and enjoy the sun, you decide. "I'm looking forward to reading it. Take your time, though!" You don't want to seem too pushy and let him realise you're teasing him. "Right now I should really be focusing on preparing my team for the chuunin exams-"
"KAKASHI-SENSEI!!!"
The shout comes from the direction of town. You whip your head around and see a shock of orange racing across the training pitch. Kakashi barely has time to groan under his breath before Naruto Uzumaki screeches to a halt in front of you both.
"SENSEI! We've been waiting for you since noon, and we didn't even bring lunch!". The boy's blonde hair is sticking up haphazardly all at odd angles. "I only had one cup of instant ramen for breakfast, too!"
Kakashi doesn't react to the loud rumble of Naruto's stomach, and doesn't question how he found the two of you. "You see - well, I was helping (name)-san here catch a cat."
Naruto narrows his eyes and puts his hands on his hips. You're strangely reminded of Iruka Umino. "A cat? Then why have you been swimming?!".
Kakashi looks like he wishes he'd used his katon to dry off. A droplet of water rolls from his hair down his mask. "This was a special kind of cat that can control chakra to walk on water. That's why (name)-san needed my help."
His grey eye turns onto you, impressively blank, but you read the silent plea in it regardless. Naruto seems to notice you for the first time. "...Yes. The Hokage brought a shinobi cat back from her travels. He's very dear to her." You're pretty sure Tsunade-sama hates cats. Surely Naruto won't be fooled by this-
"Hmm...", he grumbles, seemingly accepting your poker face as trustworthy. Then his face splits into a wide grin, Kakashi's lateness apparently forgotten. "I'm great at catching cats. You should have got me to do it, Sensei!"
Kakashi pats Naruto on the head. "Well, we didn't catch him today. Your training session can be to find him before midnight." Poor Naruto suddenly seems so determined, you nearly laugh, but just about manage to turn it into a dignified cough that reminds the boy of your presence. 
"Say, who are you, ne-san? I don't think I've seen you before!". It's entirely possible you're the only person in Konoha who Naruto hasn't pranked, yelled at, or otherwise inconvenienced. Your paths have simply never crossed. There are many people who would call this good luck. 
You're careful not to say anything too incriminating: you know what your own genin are like, and this Uzumaki boy already seems just as troublesome in the way that children tend to be. "An old friend of your sensei - we went to the academy together, actually."
"HUH?!", he yells, arms flying up in the air. "No way you're the same age as Kakashi-sensei! You're so young and cute and you don't even have grey hair like Kakashi-sensei, I say! How-"
Kakashi claps a hand over Naruto's mouth, making a valiant effort to ignore the boy's muffled noises of indignation. "We should get going now so Sakura and Sasuke aren't waiting. That cat could be halfway to the Land of Fire border by now!" Naruto stops squirming just long enough for Kakashi to release him, and he starts to race off in the direction from which he came - then spins on his heel, splutters on the dust cloud he kicks up, and sprints back to you.
"Sorry, ne-san, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Naruto Uzumaki!", he chirps, sticking out a palm. You see Kakashi smile out the corner of your eye.
You can't help but smile too as you shake his hand. How could anyone ever be cruel to this boy? He's so infectiously energetic, and he definitely gets bonus points for calling you cute. "Naruto Uzumaki, huh? I'll be sure to remember that name." 
He looks so delighted you nearly melt. Kakashi waves at you before they both disappear in the direction of the village; you smile all the way back to your apartment.
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Konoha in the evening may be your favourite thing in the world. The sun is just setting when you leave your apartment, lighting the Hokage monument up gold and casting the streets of the village in a warm orange light. You're sore off your training session but a hot shower has done wonders to take the sting out of the pain, leaving you with the kind of ache reminiscent of a hard day's work. After your shower, you had opted to dress in simple civilian clothes: a light sweater and loose trousers, with your favourite pair of sandals. It's been a while since you've had a whole evening to yourself.
The street lights begin to come on as you walk to the market square, restaurants and bars switching on their neon signs, and porch lights flick on outside homes. You catch sight of a mother cuffing her academy-age son around the ear, scolding him for not being home in time for dinner. If your genin have any sense, they'll have already eaten and will be preparing for bed right now. They're going to be focusing on chakra control tomorrow - on the water, far away from anything they can set on fire - and you've got no intentions of letting them leave until they can at least cross the river.
Thankfully, there's an empty seat at your favourite ramen stand, despite how busy the marketplace is. The chef knows your order without even asking, and you're left with a few minutes to take in the atmosphere while he prepares it. Once the shops shut for the day, street food vendors move in with their carts, and the square fills with academy students and jonin and civilians alike. You spy the old man who runs the grocery store, the blacksmith's apprentice who makes the best kunai, and an old classmate's new wife looking incredibly pregnant. You'll have to drop by and offer them your congratulations soon, you note - it seems like only yesterday you were dragging Kurenai onto the dance floor at their wedding.
The ramen is good, as always, and you slurp it down noisily, as always. You're halfway through a mouthful of boiled egg when you get the feeling you're being watched. Your first instinct is to look over at the old woman next to you, apologise for eating too loudly - but she's unbothered, her nose buried in a gardening book. Huh. You suppose it could have just been someone in the market recognising you. The prickling on the back of your neck disappears just as fast as it came, so you go back to your meal. 
When the time comes to pay, you find yourself having to dig around in your coin purse for an embarrassingly long time. "Sorry...", you laugh, finally fishing out enough money to put down on the counter. "I guess it's time I take my team on another mission, right?". The chef smiles wordlessly and hands you a tub containing a few dango sticks; he's never been much for chat, but you've always tried anyway and it seems he enjoys it more than he's let on. 
That sensation strikes you again when you duck out of the stand, and you know that someone is trying very hard to keep their eyes on you through the crowd. There's a kunai under your sweater, but you don't reach for it just yet. It could very well just be a civilian who has had a few too many drinks and doesn't realise how much he's staring, you reason. You just hope whoever it is doesn't follow you. God... You just want to eat your snack in peace.
Of course they follow you. Of course they do, because Kami forbid you just want one quiet fucking evening. They follow you through six wrong turns, two instances of doubling back on yourself, and even a shortcut through a hedgerow. You finally give up and cast out your chakra in the middle of a small park. Whoever it is obviously hasn't really thought this through, because three distinct chakra signatures slam you in the face without any effort at all. There's one that simmers as if on edge, one bright and bubbly, and-
"Naruto?", you say aloud, turning to see a tuft of yellow hair poking out over a flower bush. A small hand tugs him down and you hear a yelp. Satisfied that whatever's going on here is no threat to you, you shove another dango ball into your mouth. "Get out from behind there, come on."
He pops up, flushed bright red and stammering out excuses. "What a coincidence seeing you here, ne-san! I was just-"
"All of you.", you insist. Naruto's eyes widen comically and his mouth drops open. There's a shuffling from behind the bush, and then a pink-haired girl emerges, managing to look quite dignified if not a little sheepish. She grabs Naruto under the arm and hauls him towards you - then the last one appears, the Uchiha boy, walking five steps behind and clearly trying very hard to look like he has nothing to do with them.
You just stare at them as you chew for a moment, relishing in how each of them blushes slightly. "So, Naruto - did you ever catch that cat?"
His eyes light up at the opportunity to change the subject. "Not yet! Kakashi-sensei told us we had to keep looking until midnight, but he fell asleep, so we snuck away to-"
The pink-haired girl elbows him in the ribcage. "We were just coming to get some food to take back and share with Kakashi-sensei.", she finishes, smiling sweetly at you. "Naruto said he recognised you and wanted to say hello!"
"Well, that explains why you were hiding.", you reply. Her eyebrow twitches but she does an impressive job of maintaining her smile. Naruto, on the other hand, dissolves back into frantic excuses.
"I wanted to... to try and scare you, I say-"
"This must be your team, Naruto." You pat him on the shoulder to console him. It's funny teasing these kids, but you're worried he might spontaneously combust in a moment, and you're not really annoyed beyond the distraction from your dessert. "Why don't you introduce us?"
"This is (name)-san!", he half-yells. Naruto then jabs a finger at the Uchiha, who is still staring very hard at the ground. "That's Sasuke! He's in a bad mood because I was faster than him today." You think Sasuke may burn holes into the earth with his eyes.
"And I'm Sakura Haruno!", the girl says. You're starting to recall her more the longer you look at her.
"Sakura... I remember seeing you at the chuunin exams." Your own team had been disqualified in the second round, but you'd still taken them to watch the individual battles. Sakura's smile drops into an expression of disappointment. "I thought you were very brave." 
She preens under the compliment. Naruto, in a fashion which you've already come to predict, starts jumping around and demanding to know why you didn't think he was brave. Sakura smacks him once again - you're really starting to like her. "Just face it, Naruto! I'm braver than you, even a jonin thinks so!"
"A jonin? She doesn't look like one...", Sasuke finally speaks up, dark eyes taking in your outfit and snack with a hint of disdain. Back in your genin days, you had an Uchiha teammate, Ichiro. Sasuke has definitely inherited the clan's talent for withering looks; if you were a different woman, you might have been embarrassed. As it is, you brush the crumbs off the front of your sweater and laugh. Sakura looks as though she might pass out.
"Haaahhhh! Don't be so blunt, Sasuke-kun!"
Well, she definitely has a crush on him. 
Sasuke huffs, and looks you hard in the eye for a moment. "Whatever. I really don't get what all the fuss is about. I'm going home." He vaults up onto the rooftops with a speed surprising for his age, and vanishes into the twilight. Oh, he's an Uchiha, alright.
"You've been making a fuss over me, have you?", you turn back to Naruto, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow. "Surely your sensei won't have been pleased you weren't paying attention to training."
Naruto sniffs. "He's a silly old man who doesn't pay attention himself! He just sat under a tree with his eyes closed for most of it."
Sakura is suddenly inching closer to you, all sweetness and innocence. "Naruto says that you and Kakashi-sensei searched for Tsunade-sama's cat earlier this afternoon, (name)-san..."
You quickly pray that this girl never decides to go into the interrogation unit. It's crystal clear what game she's trying to play. But those seven years in ANBU have left you with, at the very least, a great poker face. You nod and allow her to continue. Naruto leans in conspiratorially as she probes. "He's never told us much about his life. Aaaaand we've never seen him around a woman before... Are you guys maybe-"
Kakashi claps a hand down onto each of their heads and they scream. Sakura goes pink enough to match her hair, and Naruto wraps his hands around Kakashi's wrist, swinging wildly under his grip. He must have shunshined here because even you get a bit of a shock, reflexively starting to reach for your kunai, but you're quickly doubled over with laughter instead. Kakashi catches your eye; you can see him smiling at you through his mask before he spins his students to face him.
"Hello there, Sakura, Naruto.", he says, smile gone and voice expressionless. "I'm very sorry for napping all the way until midnight."
"You didn't-"
Sakura kicks Naruto in the shin. "We're sorry, Kakashi-sensei. We couldn't find the cat and it was Naruto's idea to go home."
Naruto kicks her back. "No, it was Sasuke!"
Kakashi pretends to look around, humming to himself. "Well, that makes sense, since Sasuke is the only one who seems to actually be at home. Can't you see that (name)-san is just trying to have a peaceful evening?"
They both have the good manners to look bashfully at their feet, although you doubt they're really ashamed. You catch Kakashi's eye over their heads and mouth, come on, they're just kids.
He rolls his eye and releases his grip on their heads. Kakashi has a reputation amongst the jonin instructors for being a hardass with his students, but you can see how much he cares for them too, and you try to never judge a sensei's relationship with their team. He seems to have wrangled them pretty well considering how strong each of their personalities are. "Go home and get some sleep. We can start an hour earlier tomorrow because of tonight's antics.", he instructs, smiling at them brightly for the first time. 
They both groan, say a quick goodbye to you, and then walk away griping at each other. Kakashi sighs. "I hope they didn't give you too much trouble."
"Not at all. I actually think they're pretty funny.", you admit. This is more excitement than you'd planned for your evening, but it's nice to see kids being kids (and a pleasant surprise to see Kakashi again, if you're honest). "Especially that crush of Sakura's."
You've both started walking in the direction of the residential sector, feet falling in tandem. "Maa, it's been more troublesome than funny. She's struggled to keep her feelings separate from her performance in the past." 
"Oh, don't be such a cynic, Kakashi! Don't you remember what it was like to be young and in love?", you tease, waving a finger at him. His breath hitches a little bit, you think. "She'll be oblivious to everything else until she's twenty. Has she even realised how much Naruto likes her?"
Kakashi chuckles. "Not yet. Although, I think she has some competition in you."
"Me?", you exclaim, nearly choking on air. "I don't think so. He's met me once and I was literally a mess."
"Teenage minds.", he shrugs. You've reached the point where the path branches off, one street leading to your apartment block and the opposite to Kakashi's - but he doesn't head off just yet, instead choosing to tip his head up and watch the last rays of light warm the top of the Hokage monument. You join him, a strange feeling twisting in your gut when you see that they've started to put up the scaffolding for Tsunade-sama's carving. The street is empty, just you and him and the setting sun.
"Can you blame him?", you ask softly, when the comfortable silence has stretched out for a few long moments. Kakashi tilts his head at you, seemingly coming back to reality. Your mouth starts to curl up into a smirk. "For having a crush on me?"
This time, he blushes fast and hard, all the way up to the tips of his ears. You raise your eyebrows expectantly and cross your arms. Kakashi doesn't say anything, but a tiny wheeze escapes his lips, and his fingers furl and unfurl several times.
You don't let him flounder for too long - this is an objectively nice moment, and you don't want to ruin it by risking him passing out and hitting his head. "Kami, Kakashi, I'm only joking! You've already called me old today, so you can't possibly say anything worse."
Kakashi laughs, a proper one and not his normal quiet chuckle, in a way that has warmth spreading on your cheeks too. You must hold his gaze for just a second too long, because he's quickly turning back to the monument. "Thank you for helping me out with that cat story."
"That's okay. But I have to ask - are you just late to mess with your students?"
"...Sometimes.", he concedes. "But sometimes I'm late for more important reasons."
"Like spending time with an old friend?", you suggest, voice lilting back into light-heartedness. You want so badly to poke him, but hold yourself back on the grounds that you are not Sakura Haruno with her teenage crush. 
"I was thinking something more along the lines of encountering a particularly friendly dog."
You gasp and clutch your hands to your heart. Kakashi turns to you again, eye twinkling under the streetlamps. "Well, that does it! I'm going home. And don't bother using me as an excuse next time you oversleep!"
The sound of his laughter follows you up onto the rooftop - a shorter route home, now that the tiredness of the day is really hitting you. He remains stood in the middle of the empty street, watching you closely, and he's obviously smiling so you feel too bad to rush off without a goodbye. "Goodnight, old man!", you call down.
Kakashi raises one hand in a wave, and you feel his eye on you until you're out of sight, his chakra warm and golden like the sun.
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princessimotep · 2 months
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Tienes Mi Corazón - Chapter 9
~*~ 18+ content below. Minors do not interact. Spicy spicy hot content. ~*~
The days seemed brighter; the nights more comforting since Javier’s awakening. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other gang members how empty Miriam’s tent was as of late. She would spend most of her time by Javier’s side, tending to his needs and cares. The only times she would return to her own tent would be the early hours of the morning to get a few hours sleep before being woken up by Tilly, warning her of Miss Grimshaw’s brewing wrath. Despite losing sleep over her additional responsibility, she did not mind for it meant she could be with him.
Each day that would pass by, Javier got better. Stronger. More himself. It pondered on Miriam’s mind if Javier even remembered what he had said to her in those early hours of that morning. Or if he was even speaking from a sane state of mind. Perhaps he was delirious? His mind on another plain. Or… thinking of someone else? It would ache the young woman’s heart; the very thought of him loving another. The reality that he once doted on another female, going as far as to kill a powerful man over her. At the time, Javier’s words felt true and honest yet since the days had passed, crossing from day to night in a continuous loop; doubt began to fog her mind. To her, it was possible that his words may have been intended for someone else. That distant woman from his rebellious past.
She dared not to ask him. At least for now, she wanted to enjoy the moments she spent close by his side. Miriam remained true to her promise; never giving up on him until her dying breath. Clarification could come later. Now, seeing him recover, begin to smile again, laugh, eat and drink was all she could care about.
Javier found his evenings with Miriam in his tent to be his most treasured part of the day. She would have just finished her chores for the camp and would immediately wish to spend her free time with him. Each time she would scratch at the fabric of his closed tent, asking softly if she could come in; Javier’s chest would swell with excitement. He would either be plucking the strings of his guitar or sharpening his knife. Instantly he would stop what he was doing and encourage her to come inside. This time, when that familiar scratching noise strove forth to his ears, he had not been doing either of those things. He had been reading. The young woman had left her book on the crate next to his bedroll from the night before. She had been in such a tired daze to commute back to her own bed, she had forgotten to take it with her. He took it to his fancy to examine the pages she had been reading all these weeks. The Mexican had concluded that it was a story she was very fond of – she had read it multiple times and bookmarked her most loved sections.
His amber eyes focused on the poised woman before him, his attention on the book now broken. Miriam’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment seeing what he was reading yet her expression softened, finding this sentiment to be almost adoring and heartfelt.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have left that here last night…” She awkwardly stated, walking over to kneel beside him. He was sprawled out across his bedroll, one elbow keeping him propped up whilst his spare hand held the book. One of his knees was also bent to give him more leverage if he wished to move. His bandages around his upper torso were slightly dirtied, having been a couple days since they were last changed. His hair was messy, still free from his usual tied back look. The rugged look was oddly attractive to Miriam for it was an appearance that she had never seen before and one that Javier had hardly ever let others see. He had maintained his looks to the point where the other gang members, especially Arthur, would often throw comments about his well-kept attire and fancy looks.
“The Knight held onto her handkerchief, crumpling it in his grip to release his love’s alluring scent…” Javier recited the lines before him in which his index finger underlined. “It was then he realised, no mountain, no beast, no evil could stand in his way. He would fight for not what was right... but for what he believed in.” Miriam’s cheeks grew hot. She swallowed quietly, keeping her eyes on the floor but listening to his voice. Afterall, he spoke the words so beautifully. “She was his belief. His faith. His love; the saviour of his world.”
Miriam smiled at that part. It was her favourite passage from the book. The warmth she felt from within was enough to give her the confidence to lift her head to finally look at him. His eyes had a cushioned temperament to them, fully absorbing the woman who knelt before him. He found it charming how attached she was to the book, clear by her reaction to the words in which he recited.
“You like this part?” Javier’s question was more rhetorical if anything. His fingertips brushed over the words printed on the page, indicating to the pencil marks which circled the section. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she gave a small nod. He looked at her with question which prompted the young woman to elaborate.
“Throughout most of the story, the Knight would struggle with what he truly wanted. The Princess whom he fell in love with was revealed to be from enemy lands. When her bannermen came to collect her… he was faced with his toughest battle.” Miriam crawled forward a little more, her own fingertips brushing over the words. “To do the right thing by his code; which was to let the traitorous Princess go… or to fight for what he believed in. And…” Miriam found herself smiling from ear to ear. “he chose her.”
Javier found himself smiling at Miriam’s telling of the story. “What did she do to be a traitor?” He quizzed, having only skimmed through parts of the book, only focusing on the pages which she had bookmarked and scribbled on.
“She ran away from home…” Her voice was quieter than before. Her eyebrows threaded together in hurtful thought. Javier caught on, knowing there was more to what she was saying. Some truth in her words. A fondness and similarity she held to the Princess in the book.
“Why would she run away from her home?”
“She was expected to do something she did not wish to do.” Her hand returned to her lap where her fingers clenched onto the fabric of her dress skirt. “it… resulted in…” She lost herself in her words, unable to complete her sentence. Her mind travelled far away, thinking back to the time before she got captured by the O’Driscolls. Back to her family.
Javier could see the lost look in Miriam’s eyes. His hand reached over to her upper arm, giving it a squeeze after dropping the book. His hand was almost big enough to wrap fully around the flesh; the dominating action brought Miriam back to reality. Her eyes looked to his having just noticed that he was now fully sat up, leaning over to her so their faces were inches apart. He looked deeper into her orbs, searching for some truth within. How he longed to know more about her. Not for the power of knowledge, but to just understand her more. To know he had gained her trust and that she placed her faith in him.
“Miriam.” He firmly spoke, wanting her undying attention. He placed his other hand on her neck. Once he was confident she wouldn’t look away, he pressed on. “Tell me who you are.”
“Javier. I can’t-”
“You can.” She closed her eyes, turning her head away but the hand which was holding her upper arm rested on her cheek to make her look back to him. “Miriam. You can trust me.” She struggled against his grip, placing her hands on his wrists to get him to release her. He did no such thing.
“But can I trust you not to hate me?”
“Hate you? Miriam…” His thumb brushed over the faded scarlet mark on her neck which his lips had assaulted before his injury. He remembered that moment clear. He had often thought of it and the possibilities of what could have been if the O’Driscolls hadn’t been pursuing them. “Nunca podría odiarte.” (“I could never hate you.”) His language was a captivating incantation to her; her lips brushed against his palm to look back to him. He frowned yet the more he leant in closer, the gentler his features became. “I meant what I said.”
Miriam’s eyebrows furrowed upwards, not knowing what he meant. He understood her confusion by the subtle shake of her head. His thumb pressed on her bottom lip, pulling it slightly down to make her mouth open. The sound of her breath hitching in the back of her throat made the man want to ravish her. The restraint he had was God-sent.
“The time I woke up. And saw you.” Miriam felt sick to her stomach yet it wasn’t out of fear or worry. It was out of revelation and growing affection for the man before her. He could see in her eyes that she knew what he meant. Now holding her chin, he tilted her head back so he could lean over her, looking into her soul from above. “Say it to me.” Her chest pulled towards him like a magnet, unable to deny their bodies need to touch. In return, his hand fell from her neck to find its place on the small of her back. His voice had some much authority, she ought to be a fool if she did not obey.
“Javier…” His eyes became half-lidded, her delicate voice like a lullaby to his ears. His lips pressed against the corner of her mouth and then along the length of her jaw. They were sweet butterfly kisses, gentle like the sound of her voice. His fingers released her chin, holding onto the top corner of her neck, just behind her ear. She tilted her neck back, silently begging for him to do more to her. He would deny her until she said those words.
His lips hovered over her ear. “Dime esas dulces palabras, mi amor.” (“Tell me those sweet words, my love.”)
“Tu eres mi luna y estrellas.” Her words were like warm honey falling from a spoon. Javier placed a tiny kiss below her ear before looking back to her cocoa-eyes. She had pulled her head back forth, her chest still pressed against his, not wanting to leave his heavenly touch. His expression was serious, no smile present.
“And do you mean it?” Without even thinking, Miriam’s fingertips reached to his cheek. She nodded, nothing but honesty in her eyes. This was all the confirmation he needed. He thought it possible that she was the very thing he had needed all his life. The right soul his own needed to be united with. A love from another lifetime. The pair both went to close their eyes, gravitating towards each other to kiss. They were centimetres apart when a brash voice was heard from outside the tent.
“Oi! Greaser! You hidin’ that little trinket in there?” Micah.
The couple stopped each other’s advance and stayed in silence, looking at one another in a mutual disappointment. Slowly, they grew apart in physical distance, looking away from one another.
“I stopped by her tent. Wanted to pay her a visit. She ain’t there.” Micah licked his bottom lip, knowing exactly what was about to transpire inside the tent if he had left them a moment longer. “Was hopin’ to have a little chat.”
“Get lost, Micah.” Javier called out, turning his back to Miriam. The young woman could only shudder at the blonde’s words, knowing there was no purity to them.
“Well… if you see her…” He chuckled from the outside, standing up from his crouching position. “Tell her I’ll be… more than happy… to help her on her way.” Miriam’s eyes went a little wide at his words. What could he have possibly meant? Without elaborating further, Micah walked away from Javier’s tent. He had cruel intentions. The power of rejection had done a number on him and just like Javier, Micah had been unable to get the young woman off his mind.
Like he had told her those many nights ago, he loved a little fight in a woman. She was a challenge he wished to conquer. Conquer he thought he could easily do. Destroy? That was something far more delicious to the scoundrel. He was going to do a little digging of his own. He found it comical that not one person in the camp had a crumb of information on her. He had even questioned Mary-Beth but to no avail. The green-eyed beauty would tell him to go away each time he brought up Miriam. Sadie Adler on the other hand was far more confrontational. The evening before, he brought up possible scenarios of who Miriam could be and it ended with Sadie’s fist slamming into his jaw.
‘The damn girl has loyalty on her side…’ Micah thought to himself as he stepped into Baylock’s stirrup. He mounted his companion and pulled hard at the reins to get his horse to turn, followed by a harsh kick. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting the position of his black leather coat against his body. A smirk followed from under his hat. ‘But let’s see how loyal your friends are when they find out what dirty little secrets yer keepin’.’ The smirk was replaced by a dark frown, thinking about Javier. ‘And yer little greaser.’ Micah and Baylock disappeared into the distance, the cloak of trees covering them. It was clear that the man would stop at nothing to get one over the young woman. He wanted the last laugh.
And he would have it.
Back in Javier’s tent, a spell of silence was still being conjured amongst the pair. It wasn’t uncomfortable between the two. Just solemn and unfortunate. The male still had his back facing her, his black hair falling over his shoulder to greet his bandages. Not wanting to address the rude disturbance which had just transpired, Miriam’s hands went to Javier’s back, now unravelling the bandages. She explained that they were finally ready to be removed permanently seeing as he had healed so well. He did not respond to her.
Admittedly, his silence did sting her. She did not wish to dwell on it for it meant that Micah had won on what he set out to do – ruin their moment. After a combination of twists and loops around his body, at long last his torso and ribcage were now free of the linen. Looking at the bare muscles on his back, his broad shoulders being the most muscular part, Miriam had to fight the temptation to put her hands against him. She wished to feel each crevice of his muscles, each dip and scar that painted across his tanned skin.
The entire time, Javier had been silent. Not wishing to upset Javier with unnecessary words, Miriam held onto the skirt of her dress and picked up her book which Javier had dropped prior.
“I’ll…” She stopped herself from what she wanted to say. “Good evening, Javier.” Without another word being said, she made her exit.
That evening had been a quiet one. Just another regular night in the Van Der Linde camp. Bill, Strauss and Pearson were sharing their history around the campfire. Karen and Sean were kissing and running away from each other like drunk teenagers in love. Hosea, Miss Grimshaw, Uncle, Lenny and Charles were sat round the table having a quiet drink, reminiscing about old times; Lenny and Charles more than happy to just listen to their elders. Dutch and Molly were dancing to the joyful lulls coming from the gramophone.
Abigail and Jack were sat in their tent, happy to watch Dutch and Molly dance. John in turn watched his wife and son from a distance, contemplating whether to join them. Swanson had passed out on his bedroll, his mouth kissing the dirt. Mary-Beth was sat by her tent, listening to Kieran say sweet-nothings to her. Meanwhile, Miriam, Tilly and Sadie sat nearby on the grass, listening to their conversation.
“My, ain’t he sweet?” Tilly commented, noting how genuine Kieran was being to Mary-Beth. Sadie scoffed, adjusting the angle in which her hat sat.
“Sure. Don’t change him bein’ an O’Driscoll though.” It was Miriam’s turn to speak; the volume of their voices quiet enough that the love-struck pair couldn’t overhear but loud enough so the ladies could hear each other.
“Oh, come on. He says he isn’t one of them.” Sadie frowned at her chestnut-haired friend.
“And?” The blonde said with a fearless attitude in her voice. Miriam smiled to herself, shrugging.
“He’s probably telling the truth.” Sadie laughed, perhaps a little louder than first intended. Miriam felt the need to defend her statement. “If he was then I wouldn’t be here. I would have been handed back over to the O’Driscolls.” Tilly gave Sadie a knowing look.
“She’s got a point, ya know?” Sadie spat over her shoulder, knowing that Miriam got her good with that comment.
“Unless he’s waiting for the right time to tell them where you are.” Miriam shook her head.
“No. I don’t think so. Kieran’s a good boy. I mean… he looks after the horses better than anyone and…” The wavy-locked woman held her face in her hand, her elbow propped on her thigh. She looked at Mary-Beth who was clearly falling for the boy. “Look how he’s making her feel.” Tilly and Sadie looked back over to the couple. It was evident they were sweet on each other. By the way Mary-Beth would never break eye-contact when he spoke and how Kieran would stumble over his words each time he got a better reaction from her than he was initially expecting.
Sadie rolled her eyes.
“Well, if he makes one wrong move…” Sadie pulled out her knife and pointed it in Kieran’s direction. “He’s gettin’ it.” Miriam and Tilly quietly giggled to themselves, pitying Kieran if he said one wrong thing to Mary-Beth. Even if it was accidental.
From a distance, Javier watched the women from under a tree. The skies were illustrated with colours of navy and pink from the setting sun. Diamond-like stars peaked through the mixture, pulling the moon up from its slumber. He had lit a cigarette, its orange glow lighting up Javier’s face like an ominous portrait. The shadow of his bowlers hat created a black band across his brown eyes. The fabric of his blue jacket rubbed against the tree as he leant back, crossing one boot over the other.
He couldn’t let it go. That moment they had shared in his tent. It was almost perfect until Micah interrupted them. He had been so close to learning who she was. So close to kissing her again. If they had shared that kiss, he could only fantasise what would have happened after if she wished it so. There was no doubt about it that she wanted him like he wanted her. He saw the way she would look at him. How beautifully she would arch back for him. How pretty she sounded when she reacted to his touches.
He felt robbed. Cheated.
Angry.
A cloud of smoke surrounded him upon his exhale. Another bubble of laughter came from Miriam. The sound was better than anything a songbird could whistle. Javier clenched his fist which was holding onto his belt.
He couldn’t let it go.
Miriam stood up from her seat and said something to both Tilly and Sadie. They had both nodded to her before Miriam began to walk away. It appeared to Javier that she was heading towards the water. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, chucking it to the ground without a single care to give. He saw his opportunity and he planned on taking it.
Walking behind her, he stalked her towards the water. Before she could even comprehend she was prey, Javier smoothly joined her side and slipped his fingers through hers, holding onto her hand. Not faltering in pace, or giving her eye contact, he led her away from the camp, steering their path towards the trees. Miriam did not question the man, her posture in fact relaxing, glad Javier was near her once more. He hadn’t spoken to her since the removal of his bandages. She had been starved of his attention and thus welcomed any intentions he had.
They kept walking, stepping over the branchy pathway which now served as an obstacle course. It was clear by the gradual disappearing path that they were getting deeper into the woods. They were far enough away from camp that they would not be heard… or interrupted.
Javier finally stopped walking, at last looking at his amor. The moon was starting to peak its beams through the branches, creating an elegant mist across the bases of the trees. The sound of the water nearby rippled towards their ears, ignoring the breeze which tried its best to billow past. His heart almost leapt in his chest seeing how her eyes dazzled against the moonbeams. She was a sublime creature to him; unlike any woman he had ever laid eyes on in the past. Her thick lashes batted innocently, looking to him for some form of explanation as to why he had brought them all the way out here.
His silent response was to step towards her, tucking her wavy hair behind her ear like she would always do.
“Javier?” He hummed at her in response. “What are you doing?”
“Robando mi tiempo atrás.” (“Stealing my time back.”) Miriam let out a shaky breath. The way he said those words; his voice had dropped to a lower pitch but dark undertones. How close she was to falling to her knees.
Leaving the touch of her silky locks, Javier’s hand rested on the side of Miriam’s neck, his thumb crossing over her jaw. He angled her head back perfectly so he could once more look down into her eyes just like before. This time, there would be no interruptions.
Not wanting to risk even an inch of that possibility, he closed the gap between. His lips pushed onto her own whilst her hand moved to hold his own on her neck. Without even thinking, she returned his kiss – that flame within her igniting brighter than ever before. This was no gentle kiss but a heavy and longing one. Too many times had they both been restricted by other’s views. By the fear of getting caught. For Javier, enough was enough.
Javier’s teeth pulled Miriam’s bottom lip back just slightly so he could selfishly hear her cute little gasp. As quickly as she breathed in, he released her lip and pushed her head back even more. She was now practically looking up to the skies, only for Javier to crane his head over and press his lips to hers again. Her eyes squeezed tightly, her grip tightening around his wrist but she did not try to pull him away. Instead, she succumbed to both him and the lustful heat she felt between her legs. Every passing second, he was advancing further on her smaller frame; his lips kissing her harder, his tongue dominating hers and his hand tightening around her neck. All Miriam could do was accept the treatment she was getting, gladly playing her part as his next victim of romance. There was still the smallest of doubt in her mind that if she were to give him everything this night, would he move on to another?
Using a short burst of strength, Miriam escaped Javier’s lips for a split second to claim air. He nearly did not give her enough time to do such a thing. She saw the sinful desire in his eyes just before he pushed his lips back to hers. He tasted of cigarettes and smelt of oakwood and pepper with a hint of musk. The very smell of him sent primal instincts to her brain, which in turn made her squeeze her legs tighter to relieve her burning sensation out of retaliation.
“Javier!” She cried out, her legs not being strong enough to stand against his assault any longer. Before she could fall to the ground, Javier crouched down quick enough to place one hand on her hip and the other on her ass to stop the fall. In doing so, their kiss had been broken, the both of them now panting to fill their lungs back with oxygen. The crouch was awkward to continue to hold, therefore, the Mexican softly relaxed the muscles in his arms so the young woman could delicately sit on the grass. Her hair sat beautifully on her shoulders, her waves simulating waterfalls of silver which imitated the moon’s light perfectly. Her lips were now a dusty rose colour due to Javier’s passionate violation. Her cheeks were a faint scarlet and her eyes were half lidded. Miriam leant back on her hands, her breasts pushing against her corset with each desperate breath she took. Javier relished the sight of her.
“Te ves tan dulce como esta.” (“You look so sweet like this.”) Miriam’s cheeks turned a darker shade of ruby, recognising one of the Spanish words he spoke. She understood he must have been calling her or referring to her situation as something sweet to look upon. Her lips parted in awe when she saw him duck his head down, his lips butterflying between her breasts. She frantically tried to squeeze her legs together but his legs were now in the way. He was knelt between her own, having got on his knees from his previous crouch position. He chuckled darkly when he felt the pressure of her thighs. He lifted his head to look at her. “Something the matter, cariño?”
She could have passed out. The realisation hit her that he knew exactly what she was trying to do. Bashfully, she shut her eyes and turned her head over her shoulder to avoid his gaze.
“You treat me so cruel, Javier.” There was half-truth to her words. Of course, Javier was nowhere near a cruel man, but his actions as of late had been taken as cruel by the young woman. The silent treatment from earlier, his touches back near Wallace station, the constant uttering of Spanish when he spoke to her, knowing she could not understand and the endless teasing he was doing to her mind, body and heart. Her words however made Javier’s expression soften. He placed a curled index finger under her chin to steer her gaze back to his.
“How so?” She couldn’t put all her thoughts into words. All she could do was frown sadly and say something more abrupt and to the point.
“Do you do this often?” It was a painful question to ask, but she already knew the answer. Javier was a handsome man. But more literally than anything… he was a man. A man who had desires like any other. Javier sighed. Not out of disappointment but out of knowing she was hurting her own feelings, drawing invisible comparisons to his past lovers. Yet above all he knew she was worried she would be just another one of his ‘lays’ and nothing more.
“Miriam…” He moved his fingers from under her chin to his lap. He sat on the backs on his ankles, looking at her with honesty. “I’ve had other women, yes.” The bluntness of his statement pierced her heart. She knew it was just human nature but it was the fear of being ‘just another woman’ to him. She wanted to be more than that. She wanted… to be his.
Her look of hurt rattled him within. He got off from his ankles and leant over her, both his large hands holding her cheeks. His nose was almost touching hers when he lowered his voice to a softer tone. “But do I often do this…” Very slowly, he gave her a butterfly kiss. Deep and meaningful. He pulled away, letting go of her cheeks, his hands now disappearing under her dress skirt. He scrunched up the bottom of the fabric, lifting it past her beautiful plush thighs where her knees were bent and there the fabric pooled around her hips. His head ducked down between her legs, placing a damp kiss by her knee. “…this…” Javier’s head went further between her legs, peppering kisses further down her thigh, until he reached her core. His thumbs brushed away the fabric of her chemise so he could look at her pussy. Her slick glistened perfectly under the moon’s glow. Without hesitation, Javier pressed his mouth against her heat, causing Miriam’s eyebrows to furrow upwards and her lips to part wider than the last time.
“… or this…” Javier gave her pussy one strong lick, brushing past her clit hard causing her thighs to shake in adrenaline and pleasure. Miriam had knocked her head back past her shoulders, almost giving herself whiplash. He saw her cunt twitch, begging to be penetrated and this in turn made his cock grow against the inside of his jeans. Restraining himself from eating her pussy right there and then, Javier lifted himself back up to gain control of her gaze. “… no.” He finally answered. Miriam rolled her head back forth to look at him, his answer having reassured her. In the past he had merely fucked women, not even remembering their names the morning after.
But Miriam… he did not want to just merely fuck her. He could never forget her name.
Javier soaked in how beautiful she looked all flustered before him. He couldn’t help but kiss her again. And again. And again. She returned every single one with mutual passion. The innocent thing tried pushing her tongue into Javier’s mouth but before she could do so, he put his hand on her cheek and used his thumb to stop her. Her tongue pressed against the pad of his thumb, begging for it to move. He obliged but not in haste. Sluggishly he dragged his thumb down her tongue, past her bottom lip which caused it to follow. With her bottom lip pulled down like this, seeing how plump and round her lips were, his cock twitched in anticipation. He imagined them encircled around his dick, her beautiful locks bouncing on and off her shoulders as she went. That was something he would often do.
“Mi amor… if you would let me…” He released her lip. His eyes glimmered with longing. “Quiero adorar tu cuerpo.” (“I want to worship your body.”) Miriam looked at him with innocence, trying her hardest to translate what he was saying. Yet she wouldn’t need to. Javier leant in closer; his lips next to her ear as he whispered. “Let me make love to you.”
Miriam felt the world around her freeze. She could no longer hear the rippling of the water against the shore. The rustling of leaves high in the trees had muted. The cries of the foxes chasing their prey, silenced. Her beating heart was ringing through her ears, the only sound she could hear. Shyly, the young woman nodded. Javier grazed his teeth over her neck, pinching at the skin.
“Dilo.” She winced, placing her hands on his shoulders. He repeated the word after nipping at her skin again. It was a dull pain yet it still sent arousing shivers down her spine.
“Ja-Javier?” Her questioning tone earnt her a nip at her earlobe. His knee pressed against her core which caused the young woman to press her chest into Javier’s.
“I said, say it.” He almost hissed the last two words yet there was still an undertone of adoration. Javier made her lie down on the grass, her angelic locks spreading over the blades of grass. The indigo forget-me-not flowers which grew in these parts graced her appearance, making her look other-worldly. A Goddess which had descended from the heavens. Javier placed his hand on his hat and removed it before sitting back on his ankles to admire her appearance. The backs of her hands led either side of her face; her big doe-like eyes looking up at him with enchantment. He reached forth for one of her hands and he pressed it to his lips with his eyes closed. She was so soft to touch, whether it be his hands or lips. She was perfect to him in every way.
“Dilo…” He whispered. He pecked her hand. “Dilo, mi amor…” Releasing her hand, Javier crawled backwards so his face was back between her thighs. He kissed the most inner corner of her thigh, perhaps the most sensitive part. “Dilo.” He now demanded. Yet he still received no verbal response. The only sound he could hear was Miriam’s heavy breathing. She tried to squeeze her thighs together, but Javier’s hands prevented her from doing so. He was not going to allow her to feel any sort of pleasure until he knew for sure she wanted him. All he would do for the time being; tease.
He pressed his thumbs into the corners of her inner thighs, massaging them in intricate circles. As a result, her pussy lips parted and moved with the skin he was pushing and pulling. The night’s air slapped against her heat, making her breath tremble. So badly she wanted to spread her legs for him, yet her shyness had a chokehold on her. He pushed her further. He was going to break that barrier. Placing one light peck on her inner thigh, he moved his mouth to the hood of her clit, kissing it – lighter than a brush of a feather. This very action tipped the young woman over the edge.
“Please! Please, Javier!” Her hand reached down to his head where the tips of her fingers laced between his raven locks which were held back by his ponytail. He removed his lips from her clit and looked up at her with an almost blank yet dark expression.
“Please, what?” He baited. Miriam looked at him helpless. The man was so cruel. So cruel. Tears began to prickle against her eyes.
“Please make love to me.” That was all he needed. The Mexican dropped his head below his shoulders to assault her core. It was unlike anything she had ever felt. First, he kissed her pussy, treating her pink flesh as it were the sensitive skin on her neck. He was gentler to her pussy than he was to her lips earlier. When he said he wanted to make love to her, he spoke the truth. The animalistic side of him wanted to devour her. Fuck her senseless. Rut her until she lost her voice. But he knew there would be many more moments in the future for them to do such things. Right now, he wanted to show her through his actions that she meant more to him.
That to him she was a religion he wished to worship.
The wetness pooled between her legs. He could smell her sweetness and wanted to finally taste. Javier put his index and middle finger in a V-shape either side of her pussy and stretched her apart. Her nectar spilt down, finally being released from her entrance which had been trapped by the constant squeezing of her thighs. He lapped his tongue from the bottom of her spill to her opening, drinking her fluid. The raven-haired male savoured her taste; she tasted like syrup and blackberries – a snack she often ate whilst she read that romance novel. Gods he wished he could eat her all night. Her taste was addicting to him. He needed her to spill more for him. He needed more of her. Especially when she looked down at him between her legs with such a cute expression. Her cheeks were flaring up like autumnal embers, her eyes lidded with ever-lasting devotion. Miriam squealed upon the intrusion of his tongue being pushed inside her. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the blades of grass, scrunching up the flowers that once crowned her. The feeling of his tongue inside her was more incredible than the feeling her own fingers gave her when she would dream about him late at night. She never thought insane pleasure like this to be possible yet she was proven remarkably wrong.
Her body wanted him badly. It was evident by the way her pussy clenched around his tongue, each time he removed it only to push back in. Her back arched upwards, her shoulders planting deeper into the ground. Miriam felt as though she was ascending to another world, having a hard time distinguishing reality and fantasy. The overwhelming feeling of his tongue caused her to feel embarrassed thus making her thighs close around his head. She didn’t mean to, yet her body reacted out of instinct. Despite the strength of her beautiful plush thighs, Javier pushed them apart easily with his hands. He was not going to allow her to close up and deny herself the full potential of pleasure he could offer. He pulled back from her heat, running his wet muscle over his bottom lip to catch the dripping nectar left behind.
“Cariño…” Javier called out, looking up from her legs and through the valley of her corseted breasts. He saw her lift her head to greet his gaze. God, he found her beautiful. “You would enjoy it more… if you were to spread your legs for me, mi amor.” His request made her want to explode from embarrassment. She could no longer keep eye contact with him and found herself looking at anything and everything but his coffee-coloured eyes.
“I-I… I… can’t…” She fumbled over her words, part of her wishing she could be swallowed up by the earth to avoid his hungry appetite. However, it was her deepest desire for him to annihilate her. He snickered at her response. If only she knew how surreal she looked to him.
“Sí. You can.” Once more, Javier sat back on his heels, this time removing his blue jacket. He discarded it to the same side he had previously thrown his hat. With a swift tug, he loosened his red neck scarf so he could move around easier. Miriam watched the male roll up his white sleeves, folding them at the elbow. The outlines of his muscles and bones caused her cunt to pulse longingly. Her body couldn’t deny the irresistible sexual attraction it had to his. Nor his to hers After rolling his sleeves back, he showered her inner thighs once more with velvet kisses as if he was trying to urge her to spread them. With each kiss, she moved her legs out wider, wider… and wider. He smiled, lips reaching to her pussy again. “Eres tan hermosa.” (“You are so beautiful.”) He breathed against her only to push his tongue back inside.
Miriam whimpered, her fist uncontrollably grabbing a large section of his ashy hair to hold onto for dear life. Her pleasure had increased thrice as much by doing as he asked. His experience showed by the way she was now trying to push his head down to push him further inside. He did as she pleased. With his chin and facial hair now wet with her slick, Javier pushed his tongue as far as he could inside her, fighting against the clenching of her inner walls. Her muscles contracted around him, wanting to feel every part of his tongue. He rolled his tongue in every direction, coaxing out more of her slick to prepare her for what was to come later. Her hand would often tighten then release his locks, only to grab another fistful when he would aggressively change the direction of his tongue. A tight knot bubbled in her lower abdomen, beads of sweat appearing on her temples.
“Javier… Oh God…” She tightly shut her eyes. Just as she did so, Javier pulled his tongue from her. Miriam almost huffed at the disappointing notion but was soon shut up by his lips closing round her clit to suck hard. Her hips bucked without command. It was as if she was no longer in control of her body. The young woman was trapped in her mind. A palace of pleasurable torture. The sweet noises of him suckling on her clit heightened the impending orgasm which threatened to take over. She had never experienced a deep, gut-wrenching feeling like this in the pit of her stomach before. Her orgasm which was yet to come almost scared her, not knowing if she would still be conscious to experience it. “Javier, s-s… s-stop…” They both knew she did not mean those words. The need in her voice betrayed her along with her pussy which begged for release. She kept her hand on the back of his head, rolling her hips against his lips.
Javier hoisted Miriam’s legs over his shoulders, only sucking harder at her clit. Every couple of seconds he would release it from the suction, not wanting to hurt her. He would swipe his tongue over her clit with each release, as if reminding her he did not plan on letting her go until she came on his face. His hands had snaked under her legs to wrap back over the top to keep her hips pinned against him. She wasn’t going to escape from this. Her fantasy would indeed become a reality. Pathetically, she tried to push his head from her due to the powerful wave which began to ride over her body. She begged him to stop, never having felt like this before. She cried out his name. Nothing stopped him. In fact, he only suckled on her clit more messily. Reaching the peak of her orgasm, her legs and hips shook violently. Javier nuzzled into her mound more to make she felt as elevated as she possibly could. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, her lungs panicking for air. Her cum fell from her pussy. It was so warm and thin against Javier’s chin. Releasing her clit at last, his tongue returned to her entrance. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he drank from her.
She sniffled, trying to compose herself. She wanted to sit up but she felt too weak to do so. Yet it didn’t stop her from trying. Releasing her hand from Javier’s head which was still between her legs, she placed it behind her to push herself up. As soon as her back left the ground, her muscles gave way and went to collide back against the grass. Nevertheless, Javier still managed to pull away from her in time to reach forth and place his hand on the back of her head to cushion the blow. Climbing over the top of her, he combed her hair behind her ear with his free hand, staring into her eyes. He did not realise she had been crying from the pleasure she had received. It made his heart yearn.
Moving from her chestnut strands, his hand rested on her cheek, brushing away her tears with his thumb. He soothed her, getting her to calm herself.
“You did so well, mi amor.” Javier praised, causing Miriam to smile timidly. He returned her smile, aided by a slow kiss he planted on her lips. Eagerly, she welcomed his affection, tasting her cum which was glossed over his mouth. Her blush quickly returned to her cheeks, still finding it hard to believe what he had just done to her. It was no dream. But an ethereal sensibility.
He understood she was still weak from her climax but it mattered not to him. He wanted her to stay just how she was. He removed his hand from the back of her head so her hair could once more reunite with the flowers. Finding a spark of gentlemanly nature within him, he explained what he was about to do to her in the softest of voices. She bashfully furrowed her eyebrows together, suddenly conscious of her situation.
“Javier…” She stopped him from unbuckling his belt. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow out of concern. She bit the inside of her lip, finding the courage to admit her predicament. “I’ve never done this before.” He grunted in amusement.
“A beautiful woman like yourself has not yet been claimed? What did I do to deserve this…” He felt pride swell in his chest. The thought of him being her first made his cock ache. His one true wish would come true this very night. For Miriam to be his and his alone. He had never taken a virgin before but he had heard stories of how it would be uncomfortable for their first time. With that knowledge in mind, Javier placed a comforting kiss on Miriam’s forehead. “Mi amor, I’ll look after you.” When he finished his statement, the sound of his gun’s holster and belt dropping to the ground could be heard along with the unbuttoning of his black jeans. Miriam’s eyes wandered to his clothed crotch, almost eagerly awaiting to see what he had been hiding from her. With a quiet hiss escaping his lips, he pulled his cock from its confinements, allowing the night’s touch to encircle around him. His cock was thick; the base as big as her wrist. She followed his length down to where his tip was seeping with precum. His cock looked painful in this state – it was so erect and ready to release already. How Javier coped being in this state whilst eating her pussy, she did not know. Seeing her doe eyes look at his manhood like this made Javier smirk as he leant back over her.
“See what you do to me, cariño?”
‘Oh God…’ She cursed mentally, feeling her pussy throb with apprehension. His words sounded so sexy and the sight of his cock made her want to spread her legs again. She didn’t know what it felt like to have sex but all she knew was that she wanted Javier inside her.
Curiosity got the better of her and her fingertips reached out to touch him. His hand encased around hers, stopping her from doing so.
“No, mi amor…” He pressed his lips against her hand, making her look at him as he did so. “This night is for you.” With his free hand, he held onto his cock, giving himself a few rubs before positioning himself at her entrance. He looked into Miriam’s eyes, awaiting her approval. As much as he wanted to claim her, he understood that there was a possibility she found this all to be moving too fast and would want to stop. This he would not quarrel. He would cease all advances if it meant she felt comfortable. “Do you trust me?” Javier asked, the moon above him casting its light around them. To Miriam, he looked like the holiest of angels. She smiled warmly, nodding her head.
“Yes.” She strongly answered. The corner of Javier’s lip tugged upwards. He kept hold of his cock, sliding it up and down the length of her pussy to coat his length in her cum. She would internally thank him for this kindness later. The tip of his cock sat at her entrance and he pushed into her slowly. All the while, he never broke eye contact with her. All was received well and good until the head of his cock met the resistance of her hymen. Miriam tightly shut her eyes, feeling the beginnings of the pain but her virginity had not yet been taken. Javier squeezed her hand which he was still holding close to his chest.
“Look at me, Miriam.” Reluctantly she opened her eyes. She found herself distracted from the pain whilst looking at him. His eyes were so full of adoration, reverence and piety. Perhaps even…
… love?
Now both the corners of his mouth were pulled upwards, smiling at her wholeheartedly. It was in this moment he snapped his hips forward to break through her virgin barrier, pushing the entirety of his length inside of her. She grimaced at the soreness which engulfed her core but held her view of Javier. He frowned when he saw tears threaten to fall from her waterline again. Never did he wish to hurt her or see her shed such things. He let go of his manhood and placed both his hands either side of her head. Leaning down, he kissed the crook of her neck with airy tenderness.
“You’re doing so well… me estas llevando tan buena, mi amor.” (“you’re taking me so good, my love.”) He cooed, his words casting a spell over her, lifting her back to paradise. She silently rolled her hips, signalling for him to move so the pain could be replaced by incomparable pleasure that her romantic novels would so often describe. Javier did as she pleased, holding himself back from giving in to his devilish urges by thrusting selfishly into her. Instead, he grinded against her, only pulling his length back just slightly before rolling his dick back into her. The soreness was ever present yet faltering with each movement. Noticing her pained expression still hadn’t disappeared, Javier moved one of his hands, trailing it down between her thighs. He circled her swollen clit caringly with his thumb, bolts of electricity coursing up her spine. A gasp escaped her mouth and in turn, her pussy pulsed around his cock. The Mexican hissed between his teeth. She was so tight that he couldn’t quite believe he hadn’t already spilled inside her yet. But he knew he could not be selfish. Not this night. He wanted her to feel on top of the world so she would remember this for the rest of her life.
“Relax for me, cariño.” He grunted out, slowing down his circles around her clit. Still being under his enchantment, Miriam obeyed and that was when she realised, she could no longer feel the soreness below. Only ecstasy. Like a little dancer, she rolled her hips more in sync with his own, her fuel having been replenished by his sinful actions. Pleased by her actions, Javier’s thumb circled faster around her already sensitive clit; triggering that burning eruption which would soon happen from within her.
Pretty sounds poured out of her mouth, only motivating Javier more to see her through. Badly he wished to grab onto her hips and slam their bodies together. He knew he could make her lose her mind. Make her screams be heard throughout the woods all the way back to camp. But he held back. He promised her love this night. Not feral fucking.
“Javier… oh, Javier…” Her tone oozed with sugar. Never had his name sounded so sweet before. He gritted his teeth hard, feeling her pussy tightening around his cock with each circle he drew around her clit.
“Mierda…” He removed his hand from her core, placing it back beside her head.  “Estás apretando… tan apretada.” (“You’re squeezing… so tight.”) His choice of language only made her pussy clench harder, begging for his cum. It took everything he had to not already unload himself inside her. To fight back, he dug his fingers hard into the earth, focusing on that instead of filling her up. He knew it was something he shouldn’t do. After all, the last thing the gang needed was another kid running around camp. They already had Jack to worry about. The life of an outlaw had no place for children.
‘Perhaps Jack needs a playmate.’ The devil on his shoulder whispered into his mind. Javier shook away the thought. Then again… the thought of her waddling around the camp with his child in her belly was something so tantalisingly… tempting.
“Ja-Ja…vi” Miriam choked on her words. “Javier… I’m… I’m…” She couldn’t even finish her sentence, the overwhelming feeling of her climax beginning to take fold. He retained the same speed of his thrusts, resisting the urge to quicken them. As much as he wanted to come inside her, he knew the risks were too great. He made sure to hover his head over hers, to silently remind her to keep looking at him.
“I want to see you, mi amor.” He conducted. “Let me see your pretty face.” Mewling wildly, Miriam arched her back once more, her hips locking in place unable to roll her hips anymore as her climax took over. Javier looked deep into her eyes, cherishing how gorgeous she looked whilst she came. Her cunt clenched around his cock so tightly – Javier held on as long as he could before he had to remove himself from her warmth. As soon as the cold night air kissed his cock, hot spurts of cum darted out, catching on her chemise, thighs and the outside of her pussy. She shakily caught her breath, hiccupping in the back of her throat with each paint stroke of his cum on her bare skin.
Idly, he stroked himself, allowing every drop of cum to fall from his length. He hissed with each stroke, momentarily wishing he had met her in another lifetime. A lifetime where he could start a family with her without a second thought. No risks to worry about. No other person he had to protect other than her.
“Javier?” Her celestial voice brought him back down to earth. He tucked his manhood back into his jeans, buttoning them back up as he caught her gaze.
“Sí, mi amor?” He brought her hand to his lips, awaiting her words.
“I… I…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, remembering Sadie’s words from before. “Thank you.” She sadly smiled.
Javier being so engrossed in his thoughts didn’t catch onto the woefulness that was hidden behind her eyes. He warmly grinned at her, using his free hand to place his hat back onto his head.
“No…” He leant down, tickling her ear and jawline with his kisses. “Thank you.” A more genuine smile overcame Miriam, little bubbles of laughter leaving her throat.
‘Perhaps…’ he thought, in another lifetime – he could be that knight in her story that she loved so dearly?
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kjcreed · 8 months
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The Jewel of Seven Stars | Chapter 2
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Series Masterlist Prologue Chapter 1
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Warnings: profanity; illegal transportation; shooting (guns); violence
Pronouns: they/them
Summary: The year is 1954. 9 years after the Second World War ended. Most people in the blooming city of New York should be living pretty peacefully by now. And most of them really are... Well, except for you... And your brother Tony for that matter. Your father was an archaeologist working to uncover the truth about the legend of Queen Nefret and the prophecy that has been engraved on the walls of her tomb which your father discovered with his team. The only problem is that he went missing and now it's your job to find him. But what if you unintentionally become a part of said prophecy? And what if you meet a persistent librarian and her extravagant brother along the way?
Disclaimer: This story is inspired by the 1999 film The Mummy, partly inspired by the book The Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker and a little by the life of Queen Hatshepsut.
-
The trip has been going well for you and your brother so far. You talked some more and figured out where exactly the talisman is supposed to be. Everything was going great so you can just imagine the disappointment when one of the passengers wandered into the storage room in search of a bathroom and then proceeded to notify the crew.
"Great plan Y/N!" Tony yelled hysterically as the two of you dodged crew members left and right. "How was I supposed to know some idiot would walk in?!" You yelled back at your brother. "What do we do now?" Tony asked as you rounded a corner. 
You looked ahead of the boat and when you saw that your destination was just in front of you a light bulb lit up inside your brain. "We jump." You said and started making your way forward. "Are you crazy?" Tony started freaking out as you dragged him through the crowd of panicking people.
Tony was the first one to throw himself overboard because you even granted him a little boost with a not-so-small push… something that you were probably going to talk about later. You were running after Tony but just as you were about to jump, your body collided with a smaller one and the both of you lost balance.
Luckily, you steadied yourself quickly and your hands wrapped around the other person's waist. Both of you looked up at the same time and the whole world stopped for a minute. You and Wanda just stared at each other. Yes, our Wanda from before... This was your first meeting, but certainly not the last one.
It was when heavy footsteps started getting louder and almost too close that you retracted your hands from Wanda's waist. "Sorry ma'am. " You bowed your invisible hat and shot Wanda a smile before jumping overboard and joining your brother in swimming to the shore.
Wanda watched the two of you swim away as her brother rushed to her side again to check if she was alright. And then she heard gunshots. Some of the crew members started firing their rifles at you and your brother. 
"Stop shooting! Are you out of your minds?!" Wanda yelled at them over the gunshots. They stopped shooting for a second. "B-but-" "But nothing! You can catch them on the island later or something. They're people, you can't just kill them." Wanda continued telling them off and by the time she was finished, all the men looked like little boys that were just told off for stealing candy.
-
"Are you absolutely insane?!" Tony yelled at you as the two of you crawled to the shore and somewhere remote. "This was such a bad idea." Tony started pacing back and forth. "What the fuck have you gotten us into?! They shot at us! We could have died today!"
You just sat on the ground and watched your brother lose his mind. "We never should have come here." You stood up from your spot after Tony said that. "And what do you wanna do now, huh? Go home?" You questioned and Tony nodded hesitantly.
"Tony, the moment we step onto that boat, we'll get arrested. Besides we can't just pack our bags and leave when our dad was most likely sucked into a sarcophagus by a fucking mummy or something!" You threw your hands up in frustration.
"So get your shit together, Tony." You said sternly. "Because there's only room for one mentally unstable sibling and that's me." Your last words made Tony let out a weak chuckle as he plopped down on the ground, finally stopping with the pacing.
"What's the plan, Y/N?" Tony looked up at you. You smiled at your brother before replying. "We need to get a boat… aaand something to eat because I am feeling ravenous!"
-
"Who do you think were those people?" Wanda asked her brother as he led her through the crowd of people at the town's square. Pietro shrugged. "I dunno… Probably just a couple of criminals."
Truth is Pietro did know. He recognised the person who got close to his sister. You’re his supposed 'friend with a historian father'… And he stole that book from you when the both of you were drinking at the bar.
"They didn't look like criminals." Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. She couldn't get the image of the mysterious person out of her mind for some reason. "Well, they did sneak onto a boat and took a trip illegally." Pietro quipped as he opened the door to the Inn that they would probably be staying at for the night.
"You don't know their situation." The girl protested as she trailed behind her brother towards the counter. The door to the Inn opened and closed once again. "Two rooms please." Said Pietro to the innkeeper, ignoring his sister as she went on about the two. Truth be told, he was feeling rather nervous at the idea of running into you again.
"Hi. Could we get two beers?"  Pietro whipped his head to the side and lo and behold there was you and your brother sitting at the bar next to them, so he faced the other way. You turned your head to the side and glanced at Pietro before turning back around, pausing for a second, and turning back towards the boy.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?" You tilted your head to the side inquisitively. Pietro turned to you with a horrified smile. "No, I don't think so. I just have one of those faces y'know?" He chuckled nervously. You squinted your eyes at the boy, scanning him for a moment. "Yes... Perhaps." You laughed and turned back around.
Pietro was about to let out a sigh of relief, but a hand made its way to his collar quicker and assumed a firm grasp on his shirt. And before he knew it, Pietro was being dragged away and pushed into a wall by one Y/N Stark. "Where the fuck is that book you little weasel." You gritted your teeth.
"One drink. I just wanted one drink." Tony mumbled to himself, watching his sibling tiredly. "Piet!" Wanda gasped and started to make her way to her brother.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Pietro stuttered out, with his hands in the air. "Oh, I think you do. Otherwise, why would you be here?" You pushed the boy into the wall again, towering over him with the few centimetres you had on him.
"What is going on here?!" Both you and Pietro froze in place and looked up to see a huge man towering over the both of you with his arms crossed. "Out." He stated, simply. Both of you were still stuck in one spot before the presumed owner shouted. "Now!"
Wanda ran after the two of you outside and Tony couldn't help but laugh at the scene you caused. He secretly loved being a part of your crazy plans and he liked your wild personality. He also loved seeing you getting your ass kicked out.
That joy was of course short-lived. "You too." Tony looked up to see the owner of the Inn glaring at him and so he complied without an ounce of resistance.
"What the hell was that?" He called out to you as he walked out of the door only to see you staring daggers at the stranger you attacked just a few minutes ago.
"Yeah! What the hell was that?" Wanda put her hands on her hips. "Do you have a reason for assaulting my brother?" She added, staring at you.
"Well… Your brother did steal one of the literal two things that our missing father left behind, but maybe I'm overreacting." You quipped back sarcastically before turning to look at the girl. When your eyes met, both of your mouths turned into an 'o' shape, suddenly realising that you've met before.
You stared at each other for a moment too long before Wanda processed what you said and turned to her brother. "Pietro… What are they talking about?" The boy looked at the ground before replying. "The book." Wanda gasped.
"You stole it?!" Her voice got higher. "Yep. And now he's going to give it back." It was Tony who spoke up this time, walking towards Pietro and extending his hand. "He doesn't have it." Wanda quipped. You and your brother looked at each other confused. But your questions were answered when Wanda took the book out of her bag. "I do."
"Great." You said, before walking up to the smaller girl and reaching out for the book, only for it to be taken further away by Wanda. You raised an eyebrow at the brunette, wondering what she was on about. "Give it back." You warned. Wanda looked you dead in the eyes and said. "Let us come with you."
Your faces were so close together that it took you a minute to respond. "Listen, lady. You have no idea what kind of thing we are dealing with here. It's not some adventurous field trip so why don't you just spare us the trouble and give me the book." You explained before placing your hand on the journal Wanda held.
"It's not like you can really stop me." You said before taking it from Wanda's hand and turning around to walk away. "I know how to read ancient hieroglyphics." Wanda's words made you stop in your tracks.
You looked to your brother who was already looking at you with wide eyes. "Do you really?" You turned around to face the girl. Wanda just nodded timidly but with a determined look on her face. "Besides, don't you need four people to fulfil the prophecy?" It was Pietro's voice that cut through the minute of silence.
You and your brother looked at each other as if telepathically communicating. You then nodded at each other before turning to the Maximoff twins. "Fine."
-
“Are you really sure about this, sestra?” Pietro whispered and leaned a little towards Wanda as the two of them walked behind you and Tony. The plan was to look around the pretty small island in hopes of finding a sailor willing to take you to your destination.
“What if they kill us or something?” Pietro whispered urgently into Wanda’s ear. Before Wanda could reply, you beat her to the punch. “You know we can hear you right?” You said somewhat uninterestedly, still walking with your hands in the pockets of your slacks, not looking back at the twins. 
“And you said it yourselves, we need each other so… Killing you would be counterproductive.” You add, still pretty bitter about the whole thing. Tony nudged you with his elbow, silently urging you to lay off the guy and not scare him and his sister away.
Pietro was about to retort with something witty but Wanda shot him a disapproving look before speaking up. “This is probably going to be a long journey, so I think it’s best if the four of us at least try to get along.” She said in a weirdly authoritative voice which made you and Tony turn around.
“I actually agree with her.” Your brother turned to you and you looked back at him before looking at Wanda and then at Pietro. “Alright… Just one thing I gotta do first.” You say before turning your body fully to the bleach-blonde boy and looking at him for a minute.
Pietro was about to say something to break the awkward silence, but your fist colliding with his cheek prevented him from doing so. Wanda slapped her hand on her mouth when she gasped as Pietro fell to the ground and Tony’s eyes widened in surprise.
You then crouched down next to the guy and offered him my hand. “I’d say we’re even now…” You say with a small satisfied smile. Pietro looks at you for a long moment before accepting your hand, chuckling as you pull him back to his feet.
“So we’re good?” Pietro asks when you both stand upright, still holding onto your hand. “We’re good, Piet.” You tell him with a wide smile on your face as the two of you shake hands. It felt good to let out the resentment you held for the man who stole your book and when he returned your smile, you figured he felt the same sense of relief.
Meanwhile Tony and Wanda watched the whole thing, bewilderment taking over their expressions. When you and Pietro shook hands with smiles on your faces, Wanda and Tony looked at each other as if to say ‘Are you seeing this shit?’. 
“What the hell just happened?” Wanda broke the silence after a moment. “I literally have no idea.” Tony sighed and looked away from her to look back at you and Pietro. “But I have a feeling this is going to be a really long trip.”
-
Author's Note
And that's it for the second chapter! The gang is finally all together now and I wonder what else fate has in store for them. Thank you so much for reading and also thanks to everyone for the likes on the first chapter. I really hope that this can be something that you, my dear readers, enjoy and as always if you have any ideas on what I could do to help you read my works better, it would be much appreciated.
See you guys again soon :)
Series Masterlist Prologue Chapter 1
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popculturebuffet · 7 months
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The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck Retrospective Chapter 10: The Invader of Fort Duckburg "It'll Be a Dark Day When I Give in To a Mere Superpower"
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And we're back. For those of you newer around here a few years ago in the middle of my ducktales fevor, I started a retrospective of one of my favorite comic books of all time: The 12 part epic the Life and Times of Scrooge Mcduck, covering Scrooge's rise from a shoeshine in glasgow barely scraping by to the Richest Duck in the World and what he gained and lost along the way. I had a ton of fun covering this one but sadly.. I eventually gave up. I felt the years had piled up too much and i'd never get back to finishing it.
Enter Kev, who out of nowhere asked if he could comission the final three chapters. I happily agreed as not only can I finally finish one of the biggest works of my reviewing career, but it opens me up to do all the suplimental chapters at some point, paticuarlly "dream of a lifetime".
For now though, we're celebrating President's Day with chapter 10, my faviorite of the series and Don Rosa's too. It's largely for the same reasons: the story is tightly paced, covering only two days compared to most chapters pile of years, funny, furious, and for me at least has more of hortense, who I love dearly and who finds the love she deserves this chapter.. via a lot of shouting of course as is the McDuck/Duck Family way. Unless your these two.
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Chapter 10 is the rare chapter that picks up almost exactly where we left off, with a much shorter time skip of a few weeks, skipping our heroes travels from Scotland to the US and focusing on Scrooge and his sisters as they set up his empire , here in Duckburg. What follows is a farce, a romantic comedy, an action set piece, and one of the most badass panels ever put to ink, which for this series is saying a lot.
If you'd like to catch up on the previous 9 chapters, I just complied all of them into one handy dandy post.
So go check that out if you fancy then come back here as we get scrooge vs the United States of America itself.
We open the issue with a quick recap before we pan to our heroes, puttering along their Duckburg. Part of what makes this chapter neat is seeing the town before Scrooge made it into a thriving city: here it's just a few buildings and a small farm.
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As scrooge puts it "a town as big as it is wide". Our heroes are riding what could charitably be considered a car, which Scrooge got cheap and didn't read was a piece of scrap as his eyes are entirley shot at this point after the Yukon. I do like that while his eyesight fading is partially herditary, Rosa provides an explination for why it went down hill so fast: 6 years in the yukon with all that snow was hell on them. He leads his sisters up his new property with the help of a local farmer.... then back down his newly aquiried Killmule Hill
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I love this gag and I applaud Don Rosa's art here. He makes a mean impact siloutte. I also didn't notice till writing this review but you also see Matilda and Scrooge's hats over the corn. Hortense would join in the gag but she hasn't got a hat bope a dope a dope dope.
The Farmer renames the hill "Killmotor Hill", for the auto age... I love that detail too. Of course it wouldn't of always been killmotor hill. Though whoever was running mules so hard up that hill they were killing them needs a swift kick.
The lady of the farm offers to rent Scrooge a shed, seeing as she owns most of the land around here and reveals herself as Elvira Duck,knee coot, sister of Casey, the man who sold Scrooge the hill in the first place and she soon introduces her family.
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Yup this is Donald's family including Grandma McDuck, the character I most regret not making it into ducktales in time. Grandma McDuck is donald's sweet country grandma who reminds me of my own sweet country grandma, who spends her days working hard and yelling at donald's cousin gus to actually do some work for a change. He never does.
Humperdink is Donald's grandpa, passed int he preset, while Daphne and Eider are his aunt and uncle, all grabbed from various barks ephimera or the offical family tree he made. Daphne has golden hair, supernatural luck and the misfortune of having birthed Gladstone, while Eider is naturally Fethry's dad, who Rosa reluctnatly included in some versions of the tree as Fethry wasn't a barks creation. Me.. I don't see any harm in Fethry being included. Barks isn't the be all end all of the universe... he is damn awesome though and I respect that. case in point the names were curbed from various non barks grandma duck stories.
You might notice though I didn't mention Donald's dad. Well he was just running behind and has the calm, measured response to the accident you'd expect from Donald's father.
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Yup: this folks.. is how Donald's parents met. And it's one of the best scene's in the series, especially what happens right after.
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It's comedy gold, fits him perfectly , and once again seems to be the mcduck way... unless your these two
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I mean does it count if it only started with ONE of them shouting? Riddle for the ages.
As for why the Woodchucks are involved they've taken old fort duckburg atop the hill as their headquarters. He shouts get off my land and they do.. but naturally an old man shouting at them isn't enough to convince these children of land ownership so worried he might be a crook, they call for help in the only way the nation knew how at the time
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Yes folks there's a reason this was a president's day specail as the phone tag gets so bad THE PRESIDENT HIMSELF gets informed a "scottish billionare has taken over a military installation on the coast", a great gag. Incensed Teddy reactivates the rough riders and prepares to deal with this personally fist to face. h back when presidents could legally punch corrupt billionaires in the face. If only Biden would pass that legislation. or any legislation.
It takes a week for him to get moblized as our heroes have spent it taking the barrels up river, as Scrooge begins his lousy streak of taking advantage of his family. This will only get worse from here and is never as funny as Don Rosa thinks.
Anywho, Scrooge knocks on a homesteader's door but they refuse to answer or be helpful. Turns out it's the beagle boys, lead by the future grandpa beagle. Rosa admits making him the same character makes him 165 by the time of "A Little Something Special" but honestly this universe is JUST weird enough for that to be plausible. Not 2017 DuckTales levels of madness
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But still pretty nutty. So as scrooge takes a money bath to Hortense's exasperation some guests arrive at the fort. Who is it?
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Yeah the Beagles quickly kidnap hortense, having gone after Scrooge for revenge for putting them in stir back in chapter 2. THey also lock scrooge in one of his own barrels. Beofre he can break it through sheer force of pissed off, a shell breaks it... and the beagles and scrooge both have bigger problems
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Scrooge's response is naturally "Get off my lawn you damn united state's navy!" which gets him blasted at. The Beagles are thankfully too busy begging scrooge to give up so they can live, leaving Scrooge to do what he does best: be badass in the most insane way possible
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By godfrey I love this stupid gag.
Teddy, being the only entiity nearly as badass as scrooge , responds in kind leading to a clash for the ages
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I love every part of this scene from the sheer badassery of scroog'es one liner to that final charge. And of course best of all hortense taking on an ENTIRE CALVARY and WINNING before some traditional duck flirting as is the way.. except maybe also for these two
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At any rate the conflict is over: Teddy takes out the trash and one of Scrooge's greatest headaches begins in earnest
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WE cut to 6 months later. So I guess it's three days but semantics. Scrooge has built his money bin and plans to fill it and while Matilda is doubtful scrooge is joyful, even giving the Woodchucks a doorknob as their calling in Teddy stopped the beagle boys. As we end the chapter we get the full sight of the greatest structure in all of duckburg and one of the most iconic locations in all of disney.
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And thus we end this chapter.. and it's a laugh riot with tons of gorgeously drawn action, well done punchlines and bunches of lore stuffed in. IT's everything great about this series compacted into a tight smaller scale story... granted it's a smaller scale story that involved the entire navy and marines, but for Scrooge that's small.
Character wise since this is only maybe a week after the previous one Scrooge hasn't changed much.. but like last time you can see the cracks in his personality here and there, the darker parts that are about to consume him: He uses his sisters as free labor, yells at just about everyone and his response to every conflict is to shout at it. Granted it usually worked, but i'ts clear the more vicious sides of scrooge that never completely go away are creeping more and more into him and overshadowing the noble man he once was. they haven't completely consumed him yet.. but well that's for next time, sometime this spring or early summer.
Rather than leave on that ominous note i'd like to talk Hortense and Quackmore some more. I love them and while their chemistry's simple, they yell until they bang hard, simple, they are genuinely adorable and it's easy to see where a lot of donald comes from just watching the two: Hortense's obession with dating "a real cowboy" before meeting quackmore and sorta zoning out mid rage both have traces of Donald's own hyperfixations and tendency to leap without thinking. It's nice to sneak those subtle bits in and I applaud rosa for it.
One last thing related to the two: turns out this causeda BIG stir in italy and some other parts of europe. Rosa was suprised as , due to the family tree I mentioned, the names of donald's parents weren't a bit secret. He also took another shot at the duck comics not being big in the us, the usual Don Rosa Yells at Cloud Stuff. Point is he was shocked by it.. but me .. I get it. It's the same thing that happened when Della showed up in Ducktales. Yes a comic had given an explination and her name had been seen, and we'll see her breifly in chapter 11 of this very comic.. but we didn't really KNOW her and most things she's in are either obscure , said comic wasn't reprinted here far as I can tell, or simply a mentoin. We knew OF her bu tdidn't know her as a person.
That was the same with Hortense and Quackmore before this story: We knew of them and despite Rosa keeping it vauge for readers less familliar with the family tree, it's pretty obvious from the moment we see her grown up that Hortense is Donald's mom. Here we get to see her as a young person herself, her eccentrcities, her rage, and who she really is. We also get to see Quackmore who.. okay he's just perpetually pissed off but it's still something. There's a diffrence between a name on some suplimentary material and a character and Don Rosa created a fantastic one in hortense, to the point i'm still disapointed we never met her in the series.
Next Time: The darkest day of Scrooge's life, some attempts to recocnile na old racist story, and the hardest chapter of this comic to read. Thanks for reading.. and welcome back.
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jgyapologism · 11 months
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Only Friends (book & show canon) Parallels with Hurt and Grieve but Don’t Suffer Alone (my fic) 
So…I noticed a while ago that my Sandray fic and the canon of the show (and now the book) shared some very eerie commonalities, and I just needed to make a list to keep track of all the things that were happening that matched up between my canon and the show/book’s canon, because I don’t think anyone would believe me otherwise.
Obviously, if you haven't read my fic, then this post won't make sense, but in case you want to, you can find it here.  
I’m not saying anything with this post. I don’t think P’Den or P’Jojo have read my fic, and even if they have, the book and show canon were finished long before I started writing, but it just really is too uncanny, and sometimes very specific, in how my understanding of the characters/story match up almost exactly with theirs.
NOTE: All parallels listed are unintentional parallels I wrote/posted before canon in the book/show. Some aspects of the show/book are intentionally used in my fic — those are obviously left out of this list.
Sand with his back to ray in bed in ep 5 / his birthday; ray reaching out and touching his shoulder vs. ch 3 of my fic where he gets in bed with his back to ray during his withdrawals and ray hitting his back during his nightmares (posted before ep 5 ever came out)
Ray’s dad beating him in the novel version vs. “If his father knew he was eavesdropping, Ray would get a beating, for sure.” (ch 4, fic)
Sand researching rehab centers for ray in ep 10 vs. sand telling ray he’s already looked into rehab centers in chapter 3
Ray’s dad being the one to try and buy off Sand to force Ray into rehab in the show (ep 7) vs. Ray’s dad forcing Ray into rehab after his withdrawals in my fic (ch. 8)
jojo on ray (twitter): "but i think rayman should be more open with a doctor than with strangers" vs ch 10 when ray refuses to open up beyond his name at group therapy
Ep 10 when ray yells at sand saying "i'm the one who should be upset. you don't have the right to cry" (show) vs. ch 12 when ray says to sand (after seeing the photos of him and jane) “About what? What could you possibly need someone to comfort you about?” 
Sandray hug / show pda at the therapist's office (ep 10 show) vs. when they hug for a long time / show pda on the lawn of the rehab center (ch 12) 
“Why are you asking so many questions? Just say what you want me to do. You're wasting my time” (ray to his therapist in ep 10) vs. “Then you tell me, what is the reason?” He snaps, unable to hold it in any longer. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me what’s wrong with me?” (ray to his therapist in ch 13 of my fic)
"sand please understand me" (ep 10 show) vs. ray just wanting to be SEEN throughout this entire fic 
“Like two stars caught in a gravitational pull and attracted to one another” (novel camping scene part 6) vs. ch 16 “It’s like he’s hyper-tuned to Sand’s body, moving and orbiting around him like a twin star.” (seriously what the fuck)
Ray being insufferable about being boyfriends in ep 11 vs. ray being insufferable about boyfriends/pet names from chapter 17 onwards
Ray pointing out the plum wine in ep 10 and it being sand’s main source of income / sand destroying a jar vs. sand hiding the plum wine from ray in the fic because it’s his main source of income (ch 18, posted after ep 9 but before ep 10)
Bostonray apology in ep 12 (non-apology/insults/easy forgiveness) vs. ch 18 of my fic boston calling ray and saying “i won’t apologize for it” and ray saying “fuck you” / “asshole” and moving on / reconciliation - just overall getting their dynamic and friendship on the nose
The use of Micro’s song เติมน้ำมัน and playing at the record shop / ray singing it in ep 11 vs the same lyrics/song being played over a record player in chapter 19 during Ray’s welcome home party - posted RIGHT before ep 11 came out (literally what the fuck at this one)
Ray telling sand “i’ve never loved someone so much i drove all the way out…” in the novel and indirectly being the first to tell sand he loves him / say i love you vs. ch. 20 of my fic ray almost being the first to say i love you (and he would have, if not for the interruption)
Just general character things that I didn’t fully expect to see happen in canon:
Ray only realizing he needs help through Sand and getting professional help in the show vs. ray only accepting that he needs help after sand tells him rehab will be good (and then getting professional help)
Nick confirmed as part of the friend group even without boston (show/book) vs. sandnick joining the friend group from ch 14 onwards in my fic 
Ray realizing the full weight of his feelings for sand during therapy in the show vs. ray opening up and talking about his feelings for sand to Dr. Duangkamol in the fic
Sand’s subtle alcoholism throughout the show vs. sand’s subtle alcoholism throughout the fic
Sand not focusing on himself / taking care of himself at all throughout the show vs. sand not focusing on himself / taking care of himself at all throughout the fic (ok i know this is generally agreed upon but i started this fic from ep 2 and just..kept it going yall)
Top suffocating Mew with his presence in the show (ep 9 & 10) vs. the same in my fic
Boston distancing himself from the group after they shut him out vs. the same in my fic (literally posted the chapter sand punches him before even ep 5 came out)
Cheum trying (awfully) to be a good friend at the end of the show (ep 12) vs. cheum trying (awfully) to be a good friend in my fic (ch 15 onwards)
Sand and nick being friends since high school (book canon) vs. sand and nick being long time friends in my fic confirmed in ch 21 (this one is tricky b/c i was still writing the chapter when it was confirmed in book canon — but i’m going to count it anyway since i had already written this section before reading book canon)
Ray being protective and taking care of Sand in the show (during the whole Boeing thing) vs. Ray being protective and taking care of Sand in my fic (once they become boyfriends, e.g., when Sand is sick, during sex, and overall wanting to take care of / spoil Sand)
Sand and Mew actually getting along in the show (ep 12) vs. Sand and Mew befriending each other in my fic (ch 14 onwards)
I stopped tracking after the finale aired, so anything that happens beyond chapter 21 in my fic is unable to be counted as a coincidence, since the canon is complete. The book canon is however still being translated and released from multiple sources, and I haven’t gotten around to it all, so there may be more. 
Anyways, I just think this is really freaky and deserves to be seen because I feel slightly crazy for how fucking close I got these characters to canon before it was ever established in canon??? And some are just a bit too on the nose?? 
P’Jojo and P’Den pls hire me 
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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years
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Burden
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Chapter 8: The Mist Waits
Chapter 7 | Chapter 9
I finished earlier than I thought I would, so enjoy the early chapter release y'all!
TW: Violence, confrontations, The Fates, Desire, blood, Dark Daunt, cliffhanger
Rose Walker was having an odd day. So much had happened in such a short time, and the girl wasn’t sure whether the appropriate response would be to cry in joy or to scream in frustration. She had family left, a Great Grandmother that seemed to want the same things that she did. Jed back home and safe, and them to all be a family once again. Now she had the resources to start truly looking for her brother and, hopefully, to bring him home once and for all.
“I’ll just get Lyta. Be right back,” Rose said in answer to one of the new people added to her odd little circle.
“Rose,” a voice called out to her, soft and young.
She stopped walking for a moment, quietly questioning whether the voice was in her head or actually coming from within the home. “Rosebud,” another voice said, maternal and warm.
“Rose Walker,” a third replied, cold and older.
She felt afraid and uncertain for a moment as her feet carried her forward to the closest door, the only logical place one could whisper to her from. Once she opened the door, she was greeted by three figures clothed in black.
“Hello, Rosie,” the youngest said. 
The second smiled. “Come in, my butterfly.”
“You are at a crossroads, Rose Walker.”
She tilted her head slightly. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”
“Names, names, names,” the eldest among them said, waving her question away.
The youngest smiled sweetly. “Each name is but a single aspect of the whole.”
“Be satisfied by the trinity you have, love. You wouldn’t want to meet us as The Kindly Ones.”
“We can only caution you, sister.” The youngest looked darker. “We can’t protect you.”
A chill ran up Rose’s spine as she asked, “Protect me from…”
A maternal laugh echoed around her. “From life, my posy.”
“And the things that hover beyond life.”
“Thrashing themselves against it,” the eldest finished.
“Beware dreams,” the youngest whispered. “And houses. And trees.”
The cold voice sighed. “You ask the wrong question.”
“Had you asked the right one, we could have warned you against The Corinthian and the ghost of mist that haunts his steps.” The warm voice said.
“Told you about Jed,” the young voice continued.
“And about Morpheus.”
The light turned on, and the figures vanished before Rose’s eyes, almost as if they’d never been there… and maybe they hadn’t.
*
He stood in the center of the throne room, staring at the steps that Daunt had stood on. Dream had spent every free moment searching for The Forest, to no avail. The realm had either vanished entirely or closed itself off from him, as Daunt had after that day in Fiddler’s Green. Sadly, he was more inclined to believe the latter to be true. His head spun with the sheer number of concerns plaguing him, awaiting to be addressed. Dream of the Endless felt like he had back in the Burgess basement, only somehow worse. He felt he was being pulled in every direction, forced to split his focus between dire events, and feared no matter what he did, one or more would slip through the cracks and result in yet another loss for him to bear.
“My lord,” Lucienne’s soft voice called him from the dark corners of his mind as she approached with a book. “Forgive me for intruding, but I have the volume you requested.”
“Yes,” he sighed, taking the heavy leatherbound book from her hand and moving to sit on the bottom step of the stairs, hoping the vision of her bloodstained gown would fade from memory if he was not looking at them. “I assume it holds nothing of use as all the others.”
His librarian nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so.”
“Jed Walker is still in the realm of the living, but I cannot find him.”
“No. Nor I, my lord.” She answered.
“All humans are connected to The Dreaming.” He shook his head. “They spend a third of their life here. Breaking that connection would require knowledge. And power.”
“Then it may interest you to know that the last nightmare Jed Walker had before he disappeared was of Gault.”
“You think she severed him from The Dreaming?”
Lucienne nodded. “I do.”
“Why?” He questioned.
“Because he’s not just any child, is he?” She replied. “He’s Rose Walker’s brother. She is the Vortex.”
Quiet footsteps echoed in the empty throne room as a dark figure walked toward them. “Excuse me. I am Rose Walker. What do you know about my brother Jed?”
Lucienne turned to Dream with wide eyes and an open mouth. Daunt’s words echoed in his ears. Sight alone will not tell you her secrets. He stood and smiled. “You are welcome here, Rose Walker.”
She looked around for a moment before asking, “Who are you?”
“You have somehow dreamed your way into an audience with Lord Morpheus. The King of Dreams,” Lucienne answered sternly. “And now you must go.”
“Lucienne.”
His librarian sighed. “She shouldn’t be here.”
He tilted his head slightly. “No, but I should like her to stay.
Rose Walker was indeed the vortex. Dream could feel it swirling around her. Power and mystery and something else, something that felt familiar. Lucienne’s apprehensive demeanor did not shift while Rose stood in his realm. He could not blame her. After all, a Vortex was a volatile and uncertain thing. Matthew agreed to watch over her in the Waking World, and as Rose Walker returned to her bed, Lucienne gave Dream a look. “Are you certain this is wise, my lord?”
“Gault must be found one way or another,” he answered carefully. “Leave Rose Walker to me, Lucienne. In the meantime, continue your search of the library for anything that may lead us to The Forest.”
*
The Corinthian enjoyed tea. He enjoyed the smell of the soft floral notes and earthiness and found the taste to be almost comforting. Though he’d never allow himself to linger on why he enjoyed such things, a lingering nagging voice in the back of his mind told him repeatedly. It reminds you of her. This was, of course, a voice he smothered when he was able. Instead, he smiled beside Unity, listening to her so easily give up the information he needed. It was inconvenient that Rose Walker had returned to America, but The Corinthian didn’t mind much.
If she was the key to his permanent freedom, he’d go to the ends of the earth to find her. Daunt’s white form stood before him, bathed in the light from the window, but that light did not touch her. Instead, she dampened it with her presence alone. “What do you fear more, I wonder? Not finding your vortex in time or having her deny you as all others have.”
As he walked out of the old home, he clenched his jaw at her presence beside him. “Answer me, nightmare.” She insisted. “Answer me, betrayer.”
“I’m not scared of anything,” he spat at her. “Not some fuckin kid, not Dream, and certainly not you.”
Laughter echoed around him as the sky grew dark with storm clouds. He turned to face her, to find her gone once again, but before he could even breathe, he felt her cold hand wrap around his neck. Long nails bit into his skin as she leaned in closely and whispered. “You should fear me, dear Corinthian.”
He tore himself away from her, searching for the white maiden in the open streets. “Mine will be the last face you see.”
*
“My lord,” Lucienne called out as she approached with confident steps. “May I help?”
Hunched over the table, he glanced up at her. “Is this everything we have on Rose Walker?”
She nodded. “And Jes Walker. But I shouldn’t think there’s anything in those you don’t already know. Except perhaps-”
“Except perhaps why she was able to wander into my throne room.” Dream sighed. “What do you think? Why did Gault target her brother and not her?”
“Did you read about Unity Kincaid?” She asked, turning away from him to fetch another book. “The day you were imprisoned, there were people all over the world who fell asleep and could not wake up. Unity Kincaid is the sole survivor of what they called the “sleepy sickness.” The day you returned, she woke up.” She set the book down in front of him. “Rose Walker is her great-granddaughter.”
He hummed. “Which would seem to suggest that my absence caused the birth of a vortex.”
“Is that not a possibility?”
“Vortexes are naturally occurring phenomena,” he stated with a smile. “No one knows why they happen. Not even I know. But I do know they are not caused or created. They simply happen.”
Lucienne’s eyes narrowed as she thought about his words. “Then this is all a coincidence? And not an imminent threat?”
Dream sighed. “My instinct says no, but tonight, when Rose Walker sleeps, I shall see it more clearly. May I?”
Lucienne held up a hand to stop him. “There is something else, my lord.”
“What is it?” He asked, reading the way her face tightened as she spoke.
“I know every book in this library,” she began, turning away from him and retrieving something from a nearby shelf. “I know this library and these books and… yet…” she returned, holding a pale book in her hands and offering it to him with a saddened face. “Somehow, this one has been hidden from me for eons. It should not be possible.”
“And yet it is,” he said, gently running his hands along the white bindings, glistening with jeweled leaves of green. On the first page, The Great Tree was illustrated in deep tones of brown and emerald, surrounded by the smaller trees covered in mist. It was almost as if he could feel the leaves beneath his fingertips and the cold mist caressing his skin. It was almost as if this book was alive.
Lucienne looked at the beautiful thing with fondness and apprehension warring in her eyes. “I’ve tried to read it, but it’s… Incoherent.”
“How so?”
“Most of the pages are blank. There appear to be remnants of words written on some, and other pages or paragraphs are perfectly legible. The words, however, make little sense given all that is missing.” She shook her head and sighed. “Only the illustrations remain intact.”
As Dream flipped through the pages, studying the little words scribed here, he stopped at another picture. Daunt, or rather a drawing of her, white amidst a sea of dark colors. His heart felt heavy in his chest the longer he looked. “This will not tell us where she is.”
Lucienne’s soft eyes met his as she spoke, “No, my lord, it won’t. But…"
“What is it, Lucienne?”
“One of the illustrations seems to depict what happened to her… What kept her from reaching you the day she left.” He handed the book to her instantly. If there was a way to learn what befell her on his behalf, he had to see it. He had to know.
The librarian quickly flipped through the pages before holding the book back to him with downcast eyes. There on the red-stained page were three words… Daunts last words. “My dear Corinthian.” The image showed her standing on a bridge, holding his nightmares cheek as The Corinthian pushed his blade into her chest.
Dream drew in a deep breath as The Dreaming rippled with the rage that filled his heart. “The Corinthian…”
Lucienne bowed her head lower. “It is my fault. I should not have given her his location nor asked her to seek him out.”
“No.” He breathed out, tears welling as his finger glided across the worn page. “The fault lies with me. She would not have been vulnerable had I failed my duty to retrieve the nightmare.”
“My lord…” she whispered. “If this image is corrected, then… is Daunt not… dead?”
“No.” Dream looked up at her, meeting her wet eyes with his own. “Death told me she’d not been called to The Forest for Daunt. Daunt herself told us she was lost.”
Lucienne shook her head. “My lord, that… vision… that apparition spoke in naught but riddles. If it was truly Daunt, then she is not in her right mind.”
“Perhaps she is not,” Dream replied solemnly. “But the fact still stands that she lives. She lives, and I will find her if it is the last thing I do in this existence.”
*
That night he accompanied Rose in her dreams to search for Jed Walker and Gault. That night he had the chance to examine the vortex up close. Dream had expected Rose Walker to be impressive, but the way she adapted to her newfound abilities as a Vortex was surprising, even to him. She found her way through the dreams of those closest to her, following his advice and asking questions, seemingly wanting to learn from him. Most impressive was her ability to stay focused through each dream, never losing sight of her purpose within them and never seeking to abuse the power she held. 
She led him to Gault with ease, and once his nightmare was back within his grasp, he ensured she would not be free to defy him again. He did not regret his harsh punishment of the shapeshifter, but he did feel an unpleasant knot form in his stomach after his less-than-kind treatment of Lucienne after the fact. Still, he moved forward. Too much demanded his attention to focus on keeping his realm safe. The notion of that seemed simple enough until a crack appeared in the stained glass window above his throne, and the entire palace shook violently around him. After that, all he could do was watch in horror as the cracks grew before his very eyes.
“Loosh? You in here?” The pumpkin head made a quiet noise of apprehension. “Sorry, boss, I was just looking for Lucienne. See ya.”
“Wait.” He ordered. “Why were you looking for Lucienne?”
“Oh, well, we just had some minor seismic activity and a little, you know, damage I wanted to report.”
“Then why not report it to me?” He asked.
“Uh, because you’re busy?” Mervyn offered. “While you were away, Lucienne started taking care of that stuff, so I figured why bother you when-”
A dark feeling curled around him, nearly squeezing all the air as he said, “Mervyn if The Dreaming has been damaged in any way, I will be the one to address it.”
The floor shook, and the cracks spread throughout the windows and up the stone walls. “Oh, for crying out loud. Do you want me to fix that for you? Or will it just keep happening?”
“It will not keep happening because I will find the cause of the disturbance, and I will eliminate it. Thank you, Mervyn.”
“Uh, you’re welcome,” the handyman replied before turning and hurrying in the opposite direction. 
Dream returned his eyes to the glass as it continued to crack. He would not watch his realm crumble again. The halls shook around him as he made his way to the library with hopes Lucienne would be able to provide him with some information on these tremors. “Lucienne?”
She stood off to the side, re-shelving books with a slightly pensive face. “My lord.”
“I have come to return these.” He handed her the books, their eyes meeting in an awkward stare. “And to assess the extent of the damage from the recent disturbances.” She said nothing, merely watching him as he bent down and picked up a stack of fallen books. “Have you any idea as to what caused them?”
“I assumed it was you, sir,” she said almost coldly.
“Me?”
“Making further improvements to the realm… now that you’re back.” She clarified as she brushed past him.
Dream sighed quietly. “Lucienne, when we last spoke, I did not mean to imply that your efforts beyond the library are without value.”
“Oh?” She questioned, clearly frustrated.
“I merely wish to relieve you of responsibilities with which, had I been here, you would never have been burdened.”
“I see.”
“And in that time, did you experience any… similar seismic disturbances?” he inquired offhandedly, looking at the book he still awkwardly held, only peeking up at her.
I did not.”
“Have you any… theory as to their origin?” He pressed cautiously.
At last, Lucienne set down the stack of books she held and turned to him. “Speaking strictly as a librarian? I do. But you won’t like it.”
“Go on.”
“I know you’re waiting to see if the vortex will lead you to The Corinthian and Fiddler’s Green. The way she led you to Gualt.”
“She may yet still.”
She scoffed. “Yes, but while you’re waiting, she’s putting cracks in the foundation.”
“Rose Walker has visited this realm before and done no damage,” he pointed out. “This is something else, something new.”
“Perhaps, but if there is something new in The Dreaming and you did not create it, how did it get here?” She asked. “This is the vortex. I assure you.”
As soon as he could, Dream found Rose Walker’s dreams and watched her closely as the landscape marred with cracks and the house he’d not built appeared before him. Lyta Hall was indeed pregnant; by the look of it, she and her dead husband had somehow managed to find a way inside his realm in secret. He would be furious. How could he have been so blind? How could he have allowed a vortex to cause such chaos just to aid him in mending his own troubles?
Matthew cawed beside him. “So, what do you think?”
“Tell Lucienne she was right about the source of the tremors.” Dream ordered. “And that I am taking care of it.”
The raven took to the skies quickly as he moved forward, entering the house with ease and staring down the spirit that had found its way here. He knew, without Dream having to say a single word, the spirit knew that his time here was up.
Lyta and Rose entered, laughing with one another. “Hector, look who’s here.”
Both women slowed as they looked at him. Lytas face was drained of the happiness that had been there moments ago, while Rose looked confused. “Lyta, you remember I told you about Lord Morpheus, the King of Dreams?”
“What do you want?”
“He wants us to leave,” the spirit answered.
Rose looked at her dead friend and then back to him. “Why?”
“Because a ghost cannot escape his fate by hiding in The Dreaming. Nor can a living human being escape her grief here.” He shook his head. “Do you not see the damage your presence has done to this realm? I cannot allow you to stay.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“You belong with the dead,” Dream answered. “You must go to the place appointed for you. I’m sorry, but you must say your goodbyes now.”
Lyta exhaled a shaking breath and shook her head. “No. I’m not losing you again.”
The spirit approached her with a sad smile. “I love you so much.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” the woman insisted, pressing a kiss to her lover’s lips. “Get out of our house!”
“Lyta-”
A soft chill stilled the harsh words on his tongue as mist swept across the floor. Dream turned to look at her lithe figure standing in the room with them. Daunt did not acknowledge him or Rose or even Lyta, only the spirit once named Hector. She raised a pale hand, covered in frost and frozen vines, toward him as she whispered, “Come.”
“Hector!” Lyta cried out, taking hold of the spirit’s arm as he began to turn toward the specter.
“She’s here for me.”
“You can’t go with her. You can’t go!” Lyta cried. “I can’t… not again.”
“What is lost will always be found.” Her words were cold, carrying the chill of the mist and frost. Dreams’ heart stuttered at the sound of it. 
“Daunt,” he whispered her name like a desperate prayer, a plea to her. Hear me... Look at me.
Her head turned in his direction, and even from behind the veil that shrouded her face, he could feel her eyes. He almost dropped to his knees then and there in the crumbling dream Lyta Hall, and her dead husband had built, but she turned away from him and once again beckoned the spirit to her.
Hector spared Lyta a look before pressing a kiss to her lips and cradling her round belly in his hands. “Tell the baby I love them. Never let them forget just how much I love them.”
With a weak sob, she nodded. “I won’t, not ever.” She sobbed as she cupped his cheeks. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” the spirit whispered. “Goodbye.”
He turned and lifted his palm into Daunts. A wave of mist and distant wolf howls echoed all around them. Dream took a half step forward at the familiar sounds of The Forest’s call - of Daunt’s call. The spirit let the mist wash over him with a content sigh before he vanished from sight. Rose held her friend closely but never looked away from Daunt as she remained.
“Child born of death and dreams,” Daunt said, her voice echoing like ocean waves. “Evil will seek it out to steal its power.”
“No!” Lyta shouted, turning her head toward the white figure. She shook her head, holding her stomach tighter. “No.”
Rose rubbed her arms. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep them safe.” She looked at Dream desperately. “Right, Dream?”
He was frozen for a moment, still looking at her, before he nodded stiffly and looked at Lyta. “So long as I live, no harm shall befall your child. Not in the Waking World and not in dreams.”
The woman didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, she nodded and eased into Rose’s arms. 
“We are running out of time,” Daunt said to him.
“Then help me,” he pleaded. “Open your realm and let me in.”
She tilted her head. “Only you hold the power to do so, Dream of The Endless.”
“What do you mean?”
“My realm was never closed to you,” she answered.
Dream sighed, stepping closer to her. “I do not understand.”
Daunt lifted a frozen hand to his face, her thin fingers traced over his eyes. “You do not need to understand. You only need to see.”
Mist slid through his fingers and smoother gently across his cheek. Gone again from him, the crumbling dream was all that remained. The two looked sad when he turned back to Lyta Hall and Rose Walker. Sad for him. Lytas’ eyes held an understanding beneath her deep anger and loss. Rose spoke, “Who was she?”
“An immortal being,” Dream answered simply. “One that is not your concern.”
“You care for her.”
A painful longing exploded within him as he turned away from them and said, “This dream is over.”
When he finished repairing the damage to his realm, he sought Lucienne out. Matthew would have already delivered his message, but Dream owed his librarian an apology. “Lucienne?”
“My lord. There’s something I must tell you,” she said as she hurried out from around the corner.
“And I will listen. But, first, you must let me tell you that… you were right.” He said softly, noticing immediately how her eyes looked up at him with light and hope renewed inside them. “The vortex was responsible for the damage to our realm, and I was… wrong to risk our safety in the hope that she would locate the missing Arcana.”
“You were not entirely wrong, sir. She’s found them both.”
“What? The Corinthian and Fiddler’s Green? Where? How do you know?”
“Fiddler’s Green told me.” She looked over to the shelves at the man… at Fiddler’s Green as he emerged from behind the racks.
He bowed. “Apologies, lord, for having left.”
“Why?” He asked, desperate to understand what he’d done wrong. “Why did you leave? I trusted you. You were the heart of The Dreaming.”
“No, sir. You were the heart of The Dreaming. And you were gone. I was curious. And it turns out that life as a human contains substance I never even imagined when I was here.” He sounded so vibrant. “Which is why I’ve returned because… he’s murdering them.”
“The Corinthian?” It wasn’t shocking to learn of his nightmare’s recklessness.
Fiddler’s Green nodded, face twisting in disgust. “He appears to have built up a cult of worshipers who kill for pleasure, endangering the Waking World and the life of a friend called Rose Walker.”
“The Corinthian has found Rose Walker?”
“Yes.”
Lucienne shook her head. “Can you imagine the damage he could do with someone like Rose?”
“You must tell me where they are.”
*
The Corinthian stood at the podium, delivering a confident and proud speech inspiring the room of pathetic and deluded humans to imagine their atrocities. Dream stood in the aisle, watching his creation with ill-tempered rage swimming in his chest. The nightmare noticed him quickly but did not stop his speech until he’d finished. Always doing things on his own terms, Dream thought silently, for a brief moment admiring the determination he had forged. But was it not that determination that led him to plunge that knife into Daunt’s chest? To betray the one he called friend?
“You disappoint me, Corinthian,” Dream said through tight lips. “You and these humans you’ve inspired and created… disappoint me.”
His words visibly struck his creation as he bared his teeth. “I’ve done my best to be what you made me.”
“No,” he replied with a slight chuckle as he walked toward the stage. “You’ve done your worst, which was in so many ways what I had hoped. You were my masterpiece. A dark mirror made to reflect everything humanity will not confront.”
“That’s what I am,” The Nightmare nodded, straightening his back as he turned to face his creator. “That’s what I’ve done.”
“No. Look at you, walking this Earth for over a century infecting others with your joy of death, but what have you given them? What have you wrought?” His anger began to seep into his words. “Nothing. Just something else for people to be afraid of. That is all.”
The Corinthian scoffed, cocking his head ever so slightly. “So what now? You send me back into their dreams?” He pulled a knife from his jacket, a knife not unlike the one he’d used on Daunt, and shook his head. “Cause I won’t go willingly.”
“A knife against a dream?” His voice was dark wind and shadow as he stepped towards his creation slowly.
“You don’t think dreams can die? Let’s find out.” The Corinthian insisted.
Dream held his hand out, drawing upon his power. “Enough.” The sand moved at his feet as The Corinthian stabbed his knife into his outstretched hand. The pain startled him back and to his knees as he looked down at the wound. “How?”
“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” The nightmare said with a wide grin. “She’s taking your place at the center of The Dreaming. She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers’ minds, and now they’re all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired.”
“No.”
“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”
“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”
The Corinthian shrugged. “Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you’re planning to kill her.”
Dream pushed himself into the horrific visions molding together just as she and her brother turned towards him. “You need to wake up!”
“Don’t listen to him, Rosebud. You’re the one with the power now, not him. This is your dream.”
“It’s his dream for your world,” Dream corrected.
The Corinthian smiled at Rose. “Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas!”
The dreams of her brother and the other humans vanished, and Rose’s eyes went wide with fear. “Where’s Jed?”
“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep, he’s right next to you. This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now!”
“The Dreaming is yours? Is that what he told you?” Dream demanded coldly.
Rose looked up at him, confusion evident in her eyes. “He told me you were gonna kill me.”
“Did he tell you why? When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the waking world with it. Your world. Everything and everyone will die.”
The Corinthian bent down to Rose’s ear. “Don’t believe him, Rosie.”
“It’s happened before. I failed in my duty, an entire universe was lost.”
“He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”
“Killing me may save your life, but it won’t save the lives of those you love.”
“I’m tryin’ to keep you alive here!” The nightmare growled, the playful mask he bore slipping at last.
“I’m trying to keep your world alive,” Dream argued.
The Corinthian growled, “You have to choose one of us, Rose!”
“Enough!” She shouted above their noise, waves of power rolling off her and amplifying her voice. Rose Walker looked to The Corinthian. “If I’m as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime, the walls go back up.” She lifted her hand, willing the walls between the dreams to return.
A loud groaning sound echoed all around them as the mist began to overtake the room. Rose drifted back closer to Dream as everything around them changed. “What is this? What’s happening?”
Trees, gnarled and dripping with blood, surrounded them as dark figures moved in the woods, and all manner of noises surrounded them. The tree roots wound around The Corinthian’s limbs as The Nightmare tried to take a step back from the figure in white that now stood at the treeline. “Daunt.”
Dream wanted to reach out to her, to speak to her, anything, but Daunt was not herself. Her blood-covered form was no more than mist and bitter frost. Instead, Dream took hold of Rose’s arm and pulled her behind him. “At last,” Daunt said softly, but her voice sounded anything but. “You have come to see the damage caused by your hands.”
The roots of the trees began to squeeze the nightmare tightly. He groaned as his bones began to creak beneath the wood. “This is still your dream Rose.”
The figure in white turned her head, and ice crept along Dream’s form under her gaze. “No.”
Rose shivered from behind him and quickly uttered the words she’d heard him say, “This dream is over.”
“NO!” Daunt screamed, lunging forward as the dream vanished.
Standing back in the hotel, his nightmare breathed a relieved breath and stood once again as Dream looked down at his now-healed hand. His nightmare removed the dark shades that shielded the rows of teeth from view. That anger that filled him became unbearable as he looked over at the nightmare with watering eyes. “She trusted you, loved you, and you betrayed her.”
The Corinthian sneered. “You, of all people, have no right to judge me, Dream. After all, you drove her away in the first place! If you think I’m going back to The Dreaming with you-”
The floorboards beneath their feet began to tremble and crack. Mist filled the room as tall trees tore through the floors, and The Forest started to bleed into the Waking World. The Corinthian looked around him with stoic features as roots quickly began overtaking everything in the room. Standing in the crowd, Daunt breathed heavily, the veil gone, revealing her bleeding chest and wide eyes. “You do not get to leave me again, Corinthian.”
“Daunty,” the nightmare said softly. Roots twined around him as she walked up the stage and past Dream to stand in front of his rouge creation, the creation that had betrayed her.
“Have you any idea what it was like?” She demanded. “Knowing all this time that it was you that plunged the blade into my heart. That you… my friend… would doom me to this.”
For the first time, Dream could see the sorrow and pain in the nightmares eyes as he looked up at Daunt. “I’m sorry.”
A sob escaped her throat as everything in the room grew colder. “LIAR!”
The roots stabbed through The Corinthian in various places, digging deep into his body. He took it all with a sheer grit of his teeth, never looking away from Daunt as she stepped closer to him, a blade… the blade poised in her hands and pressed against The Corinthian’s chest. “Do it.” He told her. “I deserve it.”
Dream moved closer to her, ignoring the way it stung his skin. “Daunt…”
“No,” The Corinthian told him. “Do it, Daunty. Finish me.”
 “Was it worth it?” She demanded, her gaze shifting to the humans that sat in the crowded room. “Was all this worth it?”
“The only thing I regret is what I did to you,” The Corinthian said carefully.
“Regret?” She questioned, deathly quiet. “You do not know regret… not nearly enough to satisfy me.”
“Daunt,” Dream called out, hoping to pull her from the darkness that echoed in her words.
The blade flashed in the dim light as she drove it through The Corinthians ribs, twisting it as she knelt down, leaning her head closer to the nightmare and listening to his pained noises. “Look into my eyes, betrayer. Look and see what you wrought.”
He seemed to shake the longer he met Daunt’s gaze, the stoic features of his face twisting into pain and sorrow. The trees closest to her caught fire, and the sounds of fear and screaming. “Daunt…”
“You did this!” She screamed, tearing the blade from his ribs and stabbing him again.
The Corinthian bowed his head, pulling the blade from his flesh and holding it out to her. “Please.”
A sharp and pained scream echoed around Dream as Daunt fell back slightly, holding her chest as the wound began to bleed once more. She sobbed quietly, holding her hands to blood and crying as she looked to The Corinthian. “I trusted you…”
“I didn’t mean for this,” he whispered. “I didn’t…”
Daunt wept, “I cannot kill you, dear Corinthian. No matter how much you deserve it. Our fates are sealed, yours and mine.”
The Corinthian’s lips quivered as he looked back up at Dream. “Finish it, Dream.”
His voice was low, nearly hoarse, as he spoke, “I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”
“I do it to taste what it’s like to be human.” The Corinthian admitted. “You don’t care about humanity, none of them. You can’t even bring yourself to care about her. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”
“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules, it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”
“Or you might actually feel something. I am not the problem, Dream.”
With a look to Daunt, whose form slowly began to be overtaken with frost, he replied, “You are right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then. So I must uncreate you now.”
The sand swirled, glowing red as it ate away at his masterpiece. Daunt lifted her hand to his cheek, and he looked down at her as the last remnants of him faded. The Corinthian smiled at her, a soft smile, one he’d never known the nightmare to show before now. “Yours is the last face I will see.”
Daunt held the tiny skull of his nightmare in her bloodstained hand, standing slowly and turning to face him. More blood streamed down her cheeks as she cried tears of red. She placed the skull in his hand, and she whispered before he could even utter a word. “Find us, Dream. Please.”
And just as suddenly as she’d appeared, Daunt was gone again from his sight. His hand curled around the skull as he turned to the crowd of his creation’s flawed inspiration and shook his head. “And you… who call yourselves collectors, until now you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims, comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”
They all rose from their seats and walked, dazed, out of the room. Dream looked around him at the lack of trees, mist, and all Daunt had brought with her. He closed his eyes and silently swore he would find her.
*
Rose Walker was not only the vortex but the child with the blood of an Endless. A child born of his sibling’s games. As soon as Dream had laid eyes on the dark heart she’d pulled from her chest and given to Unity Kincaid, he knew it. With a swiftness powered by his rage alone, Dream entered his gallery and grabbed the heart on the wall. “Desire. I stand in my gallery, and I hold your sigil. Talk to me.”
The faint image of his sibling’s wide red grin shinned from within the stone. “Why, sweet Dream. This is a surprise. Almost an event, I might say.”
“Good. I’m coming through,” he bit out through clenched teeth.
“You are?” They questioned, a slight pitch of fear entering their voice before they chuckled. “But of course. You know you’re always welcome in my chambers.”
The glossy red of Desire’s realm was hideous. He’d forgotten how much he detested the vivid color and how pungent the sickeningly sweet smell of summer peaches was. Dream took slow, deliberate steps closer to his sibling, who lounged in a chair in their gallery. “Lovely to see you,” they purred. “Can I get you anything you desire?”
“I desire nothing from you save some answers,” he replied tensely.
“Ooh, is this a test?”
“Unity Kincaid should’ve been the vortex of this era. But someone took advantage of my imprisonment and fathered a child with her, knowing full well that it would become the vortex, and I would be forced to kill it.”
Desire’s smile widened. “Was I really that obvious?”
“No,” Dream answered, circling them. “You covered your tracks remarkably well.”
“Well, that’s high praise coming from you.”
“What did you truly intend? That I should spill family blood? With all that would entail?”
They laughed. “This time, it almost worked.”
It was no secret that he and Desire loathed one another, but Dream hadn’t thought they would stoop to such drastic whims to see him dead. With a scoff, he shook his head. “My sibling, we of the Endless are the servants of the living, not their masters. We exist only because they know deep in their hearts that we exist. We do not manipulate them. If anything, they manipulate us.” Standing behind them now, his voice lowered, threatening and dark. “And you and Despair, and even poor Deliruim would do well to remember that.” He pulled their head back by their light hair and looked deep into the golden eyes that now flared with anger and fear. “Mess with me or mine again, and I shall forget you are family. Do you believe yourself strong enough to stand against me? Against Death? Against Destiny?”
“No,” they said in a trembling tone.
“Remember that next time you’re inspired to interfere in my affairs,” he whispered to them as his eyes trailed away from their golden irises to the red bitemarks that marred their hand. His hands tightened in their hair. “Where did you get those marks?”
“Is it not obvious, big brother?” They sneered with a smile. “Our lovely Mistake sends her regards.”
“What have you done with her?”
Desire’s smile widened. “So predictable, big brother.”
Anger laced deep into his voice. “What did you do?”
“I merely gave her what she always wanted.” Their golden eyes flared. “An end to her pitiful excuse of an existence.”
“You would dare to raise a hand against her?”
Desire scoffed. “She is no Endless. She is a Mistake. One that refused to see reason.”
“Where is she?”
“Right where I left her,” they answered. “In that pathetic little forest of hers with that stupid mutt.”
“How did you find it?”
Desire’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, you still haven’t been to see her? How sad. From what I hear, she doesn’t have much time left.”
Dream released their hair, practically throwing them forward as he turned and strode back down the hall he’d arrived in. “If Daunt dies, I will be back for your head.”
“Give her my best,” they called after him. “She looked rather ill when I last saw her.”
Daunt was alive, he reminded himself. She was alive, and he would find her. He would not lose her again.
*
It had been weeks since he’d finished his business with the Vortex and Desire. Months and still, there had been nothing to help him find her. He scoured every book and dream, desperately searching every corner he could reach for her to no avail. The ember of hope he’d held all this time slowly began to dwindle as the days passed… as he grew closer and closer to facing the horrible reality that he’d failed her.
Matthew had followed him to Fiddler’s Green, as the bird was known to do now that he was no longer shadowing Rose Walker, making comments on his incredibly sullen behavior, but Dream didn’t care enough to answer him. Instead, as he stood among the green fields and the flowers and the memories of their moonlit dances and conversations, Dream cared about nothing else but her. He wanted to see her again, to hold her in his arms and to beg for her forgiveness… to tell her, the real her, that he loved her and that he had for quite some time.
He stared out at the peaceful meadow for a moment longer before turning to leave. There was nothing for him here. Or was there? He halted almost instantly at the sight of white standing in the trees in front of him. The white stag stood between two large trees, watching Dream. Matthew looked over to where his master was staring and quietly asked, “What’s that thing?”
“A creature I thought had long abandoned this realm,” Dream answered as the stag turned away and began walking into the forest. Something inside him forced his feet to move, to follow the creature into the dark woods.
“Oh! So we’re following the weird lookin thing?” Matthew cawed loudly, taking to the sky to fly after them.
The trees grew closer and closer together, and darkness began to make it difficult to follow the creature forward. Mist rolled over Dream’s boots, and a chill seared his skin, forcing him to halt. This was not Fiddlers Green. This was nothing of his realm. “The Forest.”
A few steps ahead of him, the stag looked back and huffed, its breath visible in the frozen air, before it continued forward, stepping over the gnarled roots. Dream moved, too, a newfound desperation in his steps as they emerged from the thick trees into a small glen of frozen moss. Death and blood hung in the air all around them. The hollow resembled that which he’d seen in the short dream Daunt had influenced.
The stag took a half-step forward, a small frozen twig snapping beneath one of its hoofs. The sound echoed far louder than it should have, filling the silence with it. A heartbeat passed before a black shadow lunged out of the trees and dug its claws into the stag’s back, clawing and biting until the poor creature collapsed and its blood coated the white ground. Dream stood perfectly still as the beast tore into the stag’s flesh and devoured the steaming meat.
“Holy shit,” Matthew breathed from a branch beside Dream. The beast’s head turned, revealing two grey eyes locking onto Dream. It turned, claws clutching the stag’s body tightly, and let out a loud screech. Blood and spit coated its sharp teeth as its foul breath wafted to Dream’s nose.
The beast gave little to no warning before it pounced, claws tearing out of the carcass and slicing through the air as it made its way toward him, ready and willing to take the killing blow. White shot out through the forest, slamming into the black creature and forcing it onto the other side of the clearing. Growls and barks echoed through the trees before suddenly all grew silent. Matthew flew down from his perch, hopping toward the stag cautiously. “Where the fuck are we?”
Before Dream could answer the birds’ quiet question, the white blur returned. It leaped from nowhere and pinned Matthew to the snowy ground by a wing. The bloodstained teeth of the white wolf, marred with scars both old and new, chomped as he raised his head to look up at Dream. One eye was blue, crystal, and starry, while the other was faded gray and scarred. “What manner of demon are you?”
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mollywobbles867 · 3 months
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The long Polin fic is now over 32k words long halfway through chapter 9. Just flipped over to page 80. And it still has so much left to go.
I always wanted to write a book. Lol
I kinda want to start posting it weekly and hopefully finish without missing a week.
Gonna think about it. What do you think?
I'd say chapters 1-7 are ready to go with only one more proofread. Chapter 8 needs rewriting and the rest is unfinished.
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violetlunette · 5 months
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Runaway Chapter 9: What Does it Matter?
Summary: Malleus learns that Lilia left NRC and Lilia believes he has a lead on Silver.
Previous Chapter
Master List
Ao3
Notes: *Twst spoilers for Chapter/Book 7
“Lilia’s...gone?”
Sebek turned his head away, his fingernails digging into his palm. It was easier than looking at his prince and the heartbreak that spread across his face.
“I’m sorry, My Lord.” His words were watery as his chin quivered.
Malleus looked away from the other as well, scowling as he felt something tight around his throat. Pieces of his heart sank into the yucky swamp of emotions swirling inside his gut.
He knew they were fighting, but Malleus didn’t think that Lilia would just run away without a word. After all, they had been together for all of Malleus’ life. That had to have meant something to him, right?
His frown deepened.
‘Did I go too far?’ The prince wondered. ‘Or does Silver just mean more to him than I?’ His expression soured as an ember of jealousy lit inside him. Malleus knew Lilia loved Silver dearly, but did he love him more than  Malleus ?
“My lord?” Sebek’s voice cut through the fog of his mind. “Are… you alright?” At first, Malleus thought Sebek was asking to make sure he didn’t blot over again, then corrected himself.
This was  Sebek , after all. He was just concerned for Malleus’ well-being. And now that Lilia and Silver were gone, he was all Malleus had. He had to be careful that he didn’t chase him away.
The young dragon turned his head away, keeping his face neutral. Even though his insides were clawing apart.
“I’m fine.” That was a lie. He wasn’t "fine." Lilia was  gone , and he didn’t get a chance to... what? What did he want to do? What did he…
Malleus closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his aching heart. Logically, he should be glad.
Lilia’s betrayal could not be forgotten or forgiven. And as Malleus couldn’t trust him anymore, there was no place for the bat-fae at his side.
However, now that place is empty...
“Are you sure? After all, you and Master Lilia...” Malleus closed his eyes as Sebek inquired his concern once more. The other’s voice was raw with emotion as if trying to hold back tears.
Malleus knew that the other would listen to him and accept the burden of his emotions without question or judgment.
But Malleus was a prince. He wasn’t supposed to trouble others with such things. Not to mention, talking about them would mean bringing them out into the open and facing them. Facing the hurt and sorrow Lilia and his human son inflicted upon him, as well as--
He took a breath to compose himself.
“I’m fine,” he repeated, careful to keep his tone in check. “Lilia informed us a while ago that he would be leaving us. Whatever else has happened, the fact that he was going to leave did not change.”
The dragon bitterly recalled that Lilia was planning to go to the Land of the East, where the man knew Malleus wouldn’t be able to see him again.
His jaw clenched, and his eyes glowed.
Lilia intended to abandon Malleus from the very beginning. That had always been the plan. The bat didn’t care that Malleus still needed him or just wanted--it didn’t matter. But then, Malleus and his family never mattered at all. If they did, then Lilia would never have taken  that human  in.
The bitterness grew towards the father and son, the two responsible for his misery. The more he focused on that fact, the more the pain inside him lessened, even if it was just replaced by anger.
“After… his  son’s  departure, it was only a matter of time,” Malleus finished. “And with all the trouble that’s come from it, it’s better that it’s done.”
“My lord…”
“It’s done, Sebek,” Malleus said firmly. “ So, leave it. ” With that, he turned and walked away.
~*~
The first thing Lilia did when he arrived in the Queendom was go to a town for gossip. It was an old way to gather information, but a reliable one. Sadly, the younger generation—who would theoretically have the most intel as they traveled more—weren’t interested in talking, preferring to be left to themselves as they used the bar’s wi-fi.
The older folk, who couldn’t get their phones to do more than answer calls, were more open to chat. Sadly, this didn’t help Lilia, as no one saw a teen with silver hair or aurora eyes.
‘At this point, I’d have better luck finding Waldo or Carmen,’ Lilia thought with a sigh. His stare dropped to his hands, which were grasped tightly around his drink. (Tomato juice, as he couldn’t convince the owner he was over 21.)
Lilia only started his search, but he felt fatigue draped over him already, making his body heavy. Of course, that could be due to his lack of sleep the past couple of days. He may not need as much sleep as humans, but he still needs sleep.
The problem was that whenever he slept, Lilia dreamed of Silver’s sorrow and Malleus’ anger, both of which tormented him like a vicious--
“I tell ye there's some sort of ghost roaming the land!” An old man insisted over the laughter, though his claims weren’t helped by the  swishing  of his beer.
Lilia watched the scene from the counter, having finished questioning the pub owner for information.
“Yeah, yeah! So you saw a specter?  And? ” One of the other patrons broke through Lilia’s thoughts with a scoff and a sneer. If Lilia recalled correctly, while ghosts weren’t common in these parts, specters weren’t unheard of either, as ghosts often appeared in the country.
“She weren’t like them other spooks!” the traveler huffed. After a swing from his mug, he continued.
“I saw ‘er two nights ago, as I was searching for me daughter’s cat. I made my way to the river in the old woods. That’s when I heard it—the most entrancing voice I ever did hear. It was so peaceful and comforting, like how me ol’ ma use ter sing. I could not help myself—I followed it.”
“You followed the voice of what you thought was a siren?”
“I told ye—I could not help myself! I had ter see it! And then I did.” The man paused for dramatic effect. “A shade you could not imagine; a ghost with hair as golden as the sun at the peak of dawn covered in thorns and roses red as blood fresh from the vein. Her beauty was only matched by the sorrow that surrounded her being to her very core.
“She sat at the edge of the river, humming her song. 'twas as if she were lulling her child to sleep. That’s when I noticed the shimmering blade of silver protruding from her chest. I looked closer and noticed she was holding a young man close to her. One with hair from the light of the silvery moon--”
Lilia nearly choked on his drink. In a heartbeat, he was before the man, shaking him.
“Where did you see them?!” he demanded, his face frantic. The old gent's eyes grew in startled surprise.
��What?! Who--”
“WHERE!” His pulse racing was so loud that Lilia nearly missed the answer.
“At the River of Tears, in the middle of Turgy Woods!" The stranger said it hastily. Lilia dropped him and tossed some cash at the bartender before making a mad dash out the door, leaving everyone else in the bar to stare after him.
~*~
Lilia traveled at night when his energy and abilities were at their best, and during the day, when they were at their weakest. He only stopped when his body gave him no choice in the manner.
On the rare occasions Lilia slept, he was haunted by the ghosts of his past.
The first was Malenore, who, like her son, accused him of betrayal. The other was of Malleus, who glowered at the bat-fae in disgust. And the third was the broken form of his child, wearing an expression the father hoped to never see.
Needless to say, all these figures resulted in restless nights.
He stayed along the river, his only clue to the whereabouts of his son. As he did so, Lilia noted that there was more bramble in these parts than there should have been. Not only that, but all the thorns were black as ink. This made the roses, red as blood, stand out.
Lilia carefully observed the red flowers and saw they weren’t roses but poppies. It was just that their petals had shaped themselves to look like roses. He also noted that if he inhaled their scent for too long, Lilia would become drowsy. 
Sensing magic from them, the fae assumed the flowers must have carried a sleep spell within them.
‘The ghost must have some strong magic.’ Lilia thought hard about the creature and what it could be, but in the end, all he had was guesses.
‘Not that she matters. I’m more curious about the silver-haired boy…’ Lilia pressed his lips. Did he jump the gun so soon? Lilia had been so anxious that as soon as he heard of a teen with silver locks, he shot off like a bullet. However, silver hair wasn’t rare, as at school, Azul and Jack had the same shade.
More than that, he didn’t have any clues about whether or not the boy in question was actually Silver.
‘I was impulsive.’ As his heart fell, a weak smile crossed his lips. Lilia began to rub his arms, trying to hold back tears.
He missed Silver so much. Every moment they were apart, hurt him and left a part of him empty. Lilia missed Silver’s disapproving scowl when he was too sloppy and the furrow of his brow when he was trying to figure out a problem. He missed seeing his eyes light up when he saw something curious, the soft smile he always had for Lilia, and more.
The little things, the big things... if Lilia failed in his quest, then...
A heavy sigh deflated him, making the bat appear small as his head and shoulders fell.
‘Silver…’ Lilia’s eyes shone as he stared at his traveling boots. He never imagined he would ever feel this way about anyone, much less a human. Particularly, the one who…
He tightened his fist over his heart.
Lilia wished he had done things differently. He wished he had done better. He wished he had found a way to tell the truth without destroying his family.
If only…
But that didn’t matter now, did it?
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