#anyways my grandpa half a world away and my last grandparent

[peacereturnedtothevalley]

really want to talk to someone but like . How do I talk about this

going to ramble in the tags but don’t read if you’re having a good day (I am not actively suffering in a material way that will require peoples concern and and active help) (I repeat keep scrolling if you’re just chillin)

[morning-might-arrive]

Here’s the continuation of my last post. Thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged! This is becoming a lot longer than I thought, so there will be another part soon. Feedback is appreciated!

A series of misunderstandings involving a limousine and Spectra’s blog lead Jackson to the realization that he has way more friends than he thought.

Wednesday

Jackson sighed as he silenced his blaring alarm clock. 7:00 am. As he walked to the bathroom to get ready, he was suddenly struck by a memory.

“It’s nothing personal, normie. You just look like such a freak.” Manny told him as he shoved him off of the lunch table. Jackson looked towards the other mansters, but they said nothing. So they all agreed. Even Clawd. 

He cringed. He’d had to eat lunch in a bathroom stall that day. He looked at his reflection, desperately wishing he could change it. He sighed and got dressed. He had to leave early since he now had no car and his parents weren't home. He plugged his headphones into his phone. Holt had gotten them into this situation, only fitting that he deal with it.

Holt Hyde cursed under his breath as he walked to school. Although the weather was warming, mornings in March were still frigid. He sighed in relief as he approached Monster High.

“Heya there, sweetpea,” Operetta drawled in greeting as Holt waltzed through the front doors of the school. 

“What’s good, Oppy?” Holt responded, his usual loud and energetic self even at the early hour.

“Just peachy keen like always, hun. Say, you seen the Ghostly Gossip lately?” She asked.

“Nah, we usually stay away from that garbage ever since that story about us and Frankie. Humiliated the poor ghoul and almost tanked our relationship. It really ain’t cool what they're doin’.” He replied nonchalantly. 

“Oh. Okay. Well sugar, you know you can tell me anythang you wanna, right?” She continued.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Oppy.” That was kinda weird for the rough and tumble ghoul to say, but honestly Holt was just glad their botched attempt at dating didn’t mess up their friendship. Oppy was a cool ghoul. 

“What’s the word, cool cats?” Came a new voice.

“Johnny!”

“Johnny.”

Johnny spirit sauntered casually down the main corridor of Monster High, and students jumped out of his way as if he had the plague. He put his arm around Operetta’s shoulder. “Hey, babe.”

Holt snorted. “I’ll never get why everyone lets you float around like you own the place.”

Johnny shrugged. “Guess they don’t have a choice. Besides, I never see you doing anything about it,” he replied with a bit of challenge in his tone. Holt rolled his eyes.

“You know you don’t scare us, Spirit. Anyway, it seems like Oppy’s got you on a leash without our help.”

Johnny bristled at that “Y’know Hyde, I’m gettin’ real sick of-”

“Why don’t we scamper on down to the catacombs and finish that new song we been workin on, sugarpie?” Operetta cut in. She really didn’t want to deal with a fistfight this early.

The couple walked away and Holt made toward the auditorium. He found the symphony on stage setting up and dashed up to join them, plugging his guitar into its amp. Jennifire was nearby greasing the corks on her clarinet. He huffed and sat down next to her.

“Another run in with the phantom pianist?” She asked, not even looking up.

“That guy is such a jerk!”

She chuckled and shook her head. “You boys are so easily provoked; I may never understand it. My brothers were just the same. He has done not to insight your anger.”

Holt really hated to admit it, but she was right. Johnny really didn't scare Holt, and he knew a little better than to try that tough guy act on Jackson. Plus, it was kinda funny seeing guys like Heath and Manny faint when he walked past them.

“Your emotions run like wildfire, I am very impressed you came to terms so easily with your end.” She continued.

Wait. What. “My what now?”

“Of course, it must be so hard for you to talk about. I am sorry.” A tear fell from her eye and promptly turned to smoke upon hitting her face.

“Jen, are you okay?” Holt asked, facing her.

She smiled. “Yes, I will be okay. So kind of you to think of me.”

“Okay, Okay, enough chit chat. Places people!” The director yelled as he approached the stage. Well. That was weird. Holt took his place in the stool beside the amp and looked up as the director began counting them off.

After an awkward hour of rehearsal, they were dismissed to second period. Holt emerged out into the crowd of students in the hall. Jennifire was nowhere to be found, so he made his way toward the art room. His Spotify playlist suddenly changed to a song by Pierce the Veil. He pulled out his phone to skip it and saw he had a message from Jackson. He scoffed. If D-low had told him what was wrong, would he be asking? JJ could be so oblivious. Maybe it was just a normie thing. 

He took his usual seat in front of his canvas and continued his painting for this week. 

“Psst, Holt.” he heard a whisper. He turned and met the shiny magenta eyes of retired popstar Catty Noir. “We’re turning up at Cleo’s place on Saturday, you in?”

“Yeah totally- oh, nevermind. We can’t make it, we kinda got a...thing that day.”

“Oh,” she said, looking kind of taken aback. “It’s that soon?” 

“What was that?”

“ I said I’ll see you soon!” she hastily corrected herself as she got up and turned in her painting, promptly leaving the art room. Man, everyone's acting off today. He touched up his work and quickly followed suit.

He basically had the rest of the period to himself, so he decided to riff on his guitar for a little bit. He couldn’t do it in the building anymore ever since that one time Headmistress Bloodgood caught him, so he moved to the front steps and set his bag beside him.

“Hey Holt!”

Holt turned towards the front of the school. “Frankie Fine-Stein! Where have you been hiding?” Her skin glowed a light mint green and her eyes sparked in the sun. Just as bootiful as ever. She sat on the step beside him.

“I was actually just in the library. I found this book about the original Jekyll and Hyde. It was way harsh; It said that Edward Hyde trampled a child in the streets of London, is that true?”

“Nuh-uh! Those stuffy normie’s didn’t like that grandpa’s were different so they dragged their reputation through the dirt!” Holt declared passionately. “Some of the people they charged him with killing didn’t even exist in the first place! Then they made Dr. Jekyll out to be a complete basket case and threw them both in jail! That is until they got bailed out by our great-great-grandma, Lucy.”

“Oh, man. I didn’t know any of that!” Frankie replied. She actually knew all about it, she had heard the exact same thing from Jackson before. They were both incredibly salty about the smear campaign launched against their great-great-grandparents that made their family flee to America in the first place, and you could hardly bring it up around them without a passionate rant. Frankie felt a little bad about bringing up something she knew was a sore subjet for them, but she had to make sure Spectra and the other ghouls didn’t get caught. It was for their own good, right?

Her phone buzzed in her lap and she glanced down. “Spectra got something, meet us back in the library.” Clawdeen. Frankie jumped up. “Sorry, Holt, I really gotta go.”

Holt watched her go in curiosity. He checked the time and quickly jumped up himself and dashed back inside the building. The only way to not be late now was to go through Section C, the so-called “vampires only” hallway. It really irked them when other monster’s used it, but he didn’t really care when it was either that or detention. As he made his way through he felt someone glaring at him, and met eyes with a large group of the former prep-school vampires. He braced himself, but instead of giving him grief like they usually did, they just let him pass. They were acting weird, but so was everyone else. Oh well, he didn’t really have time to think about it now.

Holt’s third period was Chemistry 2 with Mr. Hack. No thanks. Science was never his strong suit. Plus, there was seriously something off about this particular teacher. He just took a little too much pleasure in the cutting open of living things for Holt’s liking. He pulled out his phone.

“Keep an eye out. Today’s been weird, Bro.” He typed the message out and then disconnected his phone from his headphones. The world went dark.

Jackson blinked a few times. What was that ringing sound? “Oh, shOOT!” He bolted through the closest door- which just happened to be the right one- and took his seat as the bell finished ringing.

Mr. Hack passed out a hefty amount of worksheets to the class. “Okay class: no whispering, no talking, no looking around, no coughing or sneezing, no you can’t use the bathroom, and if I catch you on your cell phone the whole class gets detention. You have until the end of the class to complete the worksheets or it's a 0 for today.”

Everyone groaned. Good old Mr. Hack. Charming and likeable. Jackson tried to ignore the stares and whispers in his direction as he did his work. He knows he’s different, don’t they ever get tired of reminding him? Were they all paying more attention to him than usual, or was it just his imagination? He blazed through his work in about 20 minutes, it was just some simple thermodynamics equations. He looked up and noticed that Mr. Hack was asleep. Typical. Half the class were on their phones and the other half were talking amongst themselves. He pulled his phone out and saw Holt’s message.

Huh. Maybe it wasn’t just his imagination then, everyone was acting a little odd. Granted, every day at Monster High was pretty weird. Last week they had lost their school crest in a rollerblading contest and the school nearly toppled over, so maybe he could just ignore whatever this was.

The bell finally rang for lunch. He set his work on Mr. Hack’s desk as he jolted awake and practically ran from the room. He shot Clair a text

“Okay, transportation is set and decorations bought. Am I forgetting anything?”

“Measurements, goofy.” She responded almost instantly.

“Oh, right. I can get a tape measure from the woodshop teacher and get them during lunch.”

“Have you told the other monsters about Saturday?”

“No. I just don’t know how they’ll react, y’know?”

“Aren’t they always telling you about how you don’t belong? So why would they care?”

“Yeah you’re probably right. It’s just a difficult situation.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Let me know how it goes.”

Looking down at his phone, he didn’t notice Draculara until he bumped her as he passed.

“So sorry!” He exclaimed. 

“It’s alright.” She reassured him as she walked away. She made her way to the library where her friends were already gathered around in a circle. Spectra floated in the center.

“What’s this all about?” Draculara asked.

“While Frankie had Holt distracted, Spectra looked in his locker.”

“Well what did she find?” Cleo demanded.

“Just this. It appears to be a receipt for some kind of car rental.”

Clawd glanced at his phone. “Heath says Jackson is in the boys locker room right now taking measurements of himself and writing them down.” He told the group.

“Then what Spectra said is true.” Fraknie finally admitted. The room fell into extended silence.

“Well we can at least show Jackson he means something to us.” Draculara spoke up.

“Yeah,” Frankie agreed, “we can do something nice for him and Holt.”

“What are we going to do? Hijack the gym and throw a huge party during lunch?” Cleo asked sardonically.

“You’re on a roll Cleo! It’ll be closed tomorrow, but we can do it Friday!” Clawdeen agreed.

Cleo smiled. Very well then. Friday would be a day for the monster history books.

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chapter 7: Preparations

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 7: Preparation

Agad came in over breakfast.

“Agad, welcome to my home,” Seth said, taking a long drink of milk. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, “Have a seat. What have you got on Kendra?”

Agad looked more tired than Seth had ever seen him, and let Seth’s joke go flat. He sat down and the six-armed woman that worked in the kitchen put a plate of oatmeal out for him. “Thank you, Simrin,” Agad said. “I have some news, not much of it good. I was able to track the goblins that stole the barrel, they were hiding in Goblin town.”

“Sounds like a fun place,” Seth said.

“You would probably enjoy it,” Agad said, bowing his head, “Just make sure not to lose your eye, or your tooth. It’s in Nevada, not a proper preserve, no caretaker. But they keep to themselves and have general distractor spells, so everyone leaves it alone. I found Slaggo there.”

“Long trip for a goblin on the run.”

“The Sphinx probably helped him, and a wizard named Vernaz. I thought she was an ally and gave Mendigo’s materials to her to be reconstructed. She was good at laying enchantments, much better than me. Her other talent is teleportation, and could have easily helped Slaggo leave Fablehaven with the barrel. I’m positive the barrel made it to the Sphinx.”

Seth finished his last bite of oatmeal, “Then we’re sure that the Sphinx and Ronodin are working together. That sucks, one of them is bad enough.”

Agad massaged his forehead, “I fear it was a mistake to make the Sphinx an Eternal. It will certainly keep the new demon prison closed from him, but I underestimated how cunning he is, even with his Shadow Charmer powers diminished.”

“What did you do to him?” Seth asked.

Agad shrugged, “Not enough apparently. He can’t hear the undead anymore, but we couldn’t dampen much else without killing him. He can put out fires, undo locks, shadow walk. That’s apparently enough to strike against us.”

“The Sphinx had this huge rant about refusing to be a captive,” Seth said, “We should have paid more attention to it. There was no way he was ever going to live by someone else’s say so. Remember, you gave all of us the call, we’re all to blame.”

“Yes, the long life seemed the greatest weakness to the mortal locks,” Agad replied, “It made sense at the time to have at least one person who would not feel that burden, but you are right. He firmly believed in his own rhetoric, and not acknowledging that was a mistake. Both the Sphinx and Vernaz have slipped away. Vanessa is going to be insufferable, and I am going to deserve every minute.”

Seth gave a joyless laugh, “Plenty of mistakes to go around. If the Sphinx happens to die, will that open the new prison? Asking for a friend.”

“No, the prison will remain closed,” Agad said, finally a little amused, “I do not think you would be able to let him die, and that’s fine. But if he happens to die, there are enough already constructed locks in place that the demons of Zzyzx will remain sealed. If the Sphinx comes under your power, save him because you are good, or do not save him because he has harmed those you love and will continue to do so for his own benefit. Do not worry about Zzyzx.”

“Noted,” Seth said. Agad finished breakfast and Seth led him to the War Room.

“I also examined the barrel here,” Agad explained as they walked, “The other half appears to be deep underwater.”

“Why would they do that?” Seth asked. “Did anyone touch the letter we left?”

“Your letter remains in place. An interesting response, and I see only advantages in it. The letter remains physically here, my only recommendation is to make it waterproof so when they pull the barrel up and remove the letter, it doesn’t get ruined by surrounding water. Which answers your other question. They didn’t destroy the barrel, which means they likely intend to use it again.”

“Can you find it?” Seth hoped. “Even a general location would help narrow down the search.”

Agad was already shaking his head, “It’s too deep, and somewhere protected. I can’t get a read on it aside from the fact that it is deep enough that the pressure would kill a human.”

“Great,” Seth said, running a hand through his hair. They approached the War Room, and Seth sat down with Agad across from him. Grandma and Grandpa were already there, and rushed to greet Agad. They updated him on Tess running around the preserve with the Cloak of innocence. Agad gave them the same information about Kendra.

“Any other leads?” Seth asked when everyone was caught up.

“Not quite,” Agad said, “I was unable to gain contact with the Fairy Queen, so we are waiting to see if her connection to Kendra remains strong. No further leads on Bracken either. The only good news I have is that Warren and Vanessa managed to help the caretaker regain a foothold of the Crescent Lagoon sanctuary.”

“I have Bracken’s horn,” Seth said, blinking. He was glad that his friends had some success, but they were okay, Bracken was not. He pulled it out of his emergency kit, “Kendra gave it to me before she lost her memory, along with the medallion and a bunch of information she was keeping to herself.”

“Bracken did say that he had re-established full connection with his horn,” Agad said, “May I see it?”

Seth nodded and offered it to the wizard. Everyone was silent as Agad’s brow pinched in concentration.

“The connection is weak, it feels as though he is under water. No, underground and under water,” Agad said, snowy eyebrows rising, “I would not have been able to tell had I not recently examined the barrel, but working around the water, earth and darkness, I can sense that he is not currently in pain. He seems…bored. He can’t sense me on this side of the connection. But…I would venture to say, he’s at approximately the same depth as the barrel. Within a couple hundred feet of each other.”

“Good,” Grandma said, “Ronodin is handling everything from a master base. There is a good chance Kendra is near them as well. Can you tell Bracken anything about Kendra being near him?”

Agad concentrated, then shook his head, letting out a shaky breath and lowering the horn. “At most, I might be able to push his subconscious thoughts in a certain direction. But I’m positive thoughts about Kendra already haunt him. His last prison ended with her after all.”

Uggh, of all the times to be a lovesick dummy. “Ronodin wants the horn,” Seth said, “That’s what Kendra told me, and I think he tried to get her to give it to him at the Dragon feast.”

“I shudder to think of why he wants it,” Agad said, then offered it back to Seth. “If he wants it badly enough, he’ll find whoever has it. He will likely be more willing to deal with you, knowing how much you want Kendra back. He will also suspect that you have it if Kendra does not. If he contacts you, use your judgement, rely on your grandparents and allies, contact me, and do not endanger the world.”

Seth took it and nodded, placing it back in his adventure kit, silently thanking Agad for placing the lead back in his hands. He would have thanked him out loud, but didn’t want Agad to rethink the choice.

There was a knock on the door, and Knox opened it, letting Tess fall through. “Seth! Seth! I saw the nice dragon! It was so huge!”

Nice dragon? Oh, she left with Eve and they went to see Dromadus. That’s okay then.

“Tess made it back,” Knox said, following her. Patton Burgess’s stingbulb shut the door behind them.

“We took turns flying the winged mounts and walking along the road, over all a very short trip,” Patton said, taking a seat next to Seth. “We heard about Kendra losing her memory. I’m so sorry.”

Patton offered his arms for a hug, and Seth took it, squeezing tightly.

Patton smiled and patted Seth on the back, returning the hug. “Don’t get too attached, I only have a day left.”

Seth released him, “I know,” Seth said, “But I’m glad you’re here while you are. Kendra was kidnapped by Ronodin and the Sphinx working together, and we’ll take any help you can give.”

“Hey, I deserve a hug too,” Doren protested, and both he and Newel tackled Seth in hug, ruffling his hair, before settling back like nothing had happened.

They went through yet another round of catch-up, as Tess squeezed herself in between Knox and Seth, fairly bouncing while waiting to tell her story.

“Tess, this is serious,” Knox scolded, “Kendra’s in a lot of trouble.”

“I know,” Tess said, holding still, “But the fairies at Fablehaven told me all about Bracken and Kendra. Bracken is like, this super cool fairy prince who likes Kendra and totally saves her all the time. And Kendra has a bunch of wicked cool powers from the Fairy Queen, they’re going to be okay until you and Seth rescue them, if they don’t rescue themselves.”

Not how Seth would describe them, Kendra spent a lot more time saving Bracken than the other way around, far as he knew. He was surprised that the Fablehaven fairies were that nice about Kendra though. He wasn’t the only one.

“The fairies said that?” Grandpa asked.

“Well, they said Bracken pitied her, not that he liked her,” Tess admitted, “but that’s what girls always say when the cool boy likes someone else. And they said that the Fairy Queen gives Kendra powers to do stuff for her, and the Fairy Queen is the most powerful person ever. So everything is going to be okay. Really, we need to worry about us.”

Attention snapped to Tess like a guitar string.

“The Dragons are planning to attack us. Tonight! Dromadus doesn’t know how, but he heard them acting like they already won,” Tess explained. “I was supposed to tell Seth. Oh! And don’t tell anyone who told us about the dragons, that’s a secret.”

“Tess,” Knox said slowly, “That’s the kind of thing you say right away.”

“But it’s rude to interrupt people,” she said, confused.

Seth stood up, and he saw Grandpa raise his eyebrows in surprise. Why was he surprised? This was Seth’s job, after all, for a little while longer anyway.

“Okay Agad, welcome to the next round,” Seth said, “Did you check the magical defenses? How are they holding?”

Agad shared an amused look with Grandpa, who just nodded. “I did. The protections seem more secure than ever, even more than when I was caretaker here.”

“The Dragons are certain of victory, but will be unable to mount a frontal assault,” Grandma mused.

“Is Celebrant being hasty?” Patton asked, “From what I understand, dragons with losing streaks don’t stay king for long.”

“Perhaps Dromadus is toying with us,” Marat offered, “His help is rather unexpected.”

“I don’t think Dromadus would do that,” Seth said, “When Kendra and I met him, he seemed kind of like the Fair Folk. Didn’t want the sanctuary to fall, but not gonna do anything about it. And if he isn’t right, and the dragons don’t attack, there’s nothing to gain. If he lied, we wont trust him in the future.”

Marat tilted his head, acknowledging Seth’s statement.

“Anything is possible,” Agad said, “It could be that Dromadus is working with Celebrant, and they are hoping to find a weakness as we scramble to cover ourselves.”

“We have to treat it like a real threat,” Seth decided. “Whatever we show, it can’t be worse than them coming after us when we are unprepared. Possible weaknesses?”

“We should go over our magical defenses one more time,” Marat suggested, “Review the treaty and see if there is anything we missed. It is possible we have a traitor in our midst that will grant them access.”

Unfortunate, but true. He hoped they had been careful enough, though he hadn’t been around much to make a good guess himself.

“What about the barrel?” Knox asked. “We know where that is now, right? Could that be the weakness?”

Agad frowned, “It feels out of character for Celebrant to brag of a victory achieved by allies on the other side of the barrel, but we should not discount it. It is currently the greatest hole in our defense.”

Something about what Knox said bothered Seth. They know where it is now. They weren’t dealing with the Sphinx, but they kind of were. What had the Sphinx done in the past while they thought they were safe? And what was it about Knox’s statement that bothered him?

There wasn’t the textbook method: create a problem, send a friend to help, friend is a traitor. This was a different tactic. The Sphinx liked to stay one step ahead, control the board from both sides, and make threats to force you into action when you’d really just like to sit on your winning streak. Seth thought about the stories he had shared with Knox. Sometimes he planted a traitor, and sometimes the Sphinx sent invisible assassins after you because he already knew where you were going to be. Sometimes he let demon dragons out of their prisons when you weren’t looking.

“Guys,” Seth said, a sick feeling in his stomach, “Hey,” he stopped Marat and Agad in the middle of their discussion about magical defenses. “Bad thought. Someone was controlling Mendigo way before when the barrel was first stolen, right? Probably Ronodin, since he’s been hanging around the preserve and making deals with the Dragons. We thought the person left with the barrel, but it was in the basement the whole time.”

He waited for someone to deny what he was hinting at.

“Ah,” Grandpa Sorenson said, “I see. Between the time the barrel was lost and found, both sides of the barrel were out of our control, and Mendigo was available on our side to assist a sleeper agent.”

Grandma, Tanu, and Agad all looked like they were about to throw up.

“What are you saying?” Knox asked.

“Seth is suggesting the possibility that someone is already here, but remaining hidden,” Marat clarified, “An insightful observation and deduction.”

“Celebrant could claim credit for successfully distracting us,” Agad admitted, “Not as good as a frontal assault, but enough for him to claim the win. Especially if he can claim the kill. If the enemy is hiding near the Blackwell, it would be nearly impossible to sense them around the aura of the undead.”

“The question is,” Grandma said, “whether the source of the threat is already here, or will it come through the barrel yet. I am loathe to give up our only connection to Kendra.”

“Any way we can make sure we aren’t being listened to, Agad?” Grandpa asked.

“Not that I can create without knowing our spy and what he is using,” Agad said, shaking his head. “We will have to plan even though we may be spied upon.”

“There can’t be a bunch of them,” Seth decided, “I can see through most hiding spells, and I haven’t seen anyone. I can’t get around distractor spells, that was Kendra’s half…” he looked down at Tess, fairy struck, who was sitting still and paying attention like a good girl. Plans were starting to come together “Let’s not talk about everything here. I want everyone to split into groups. Agad, Marat, where’s the best place to examine the magical defenses?”

They shared a look, “The tower where the Roost used to be,” Agad said at last. “The protections still form a small dent there, where a dragon may come closer than other area.”

“Okay, head to Seth Tower, I’ll meet up with you after.” Seth said. It was energizing, being heard and listened to. And to actually be doing something! The brothers nodded.

“Tanu,” Seth said, “I want your potions ready by dinner, whatever happens, you’re going to need to be stocked and ready to go.” Several people caught his emphasis, but didn’t say anything, just like he wanted. Well Tess asked, but Knox shushed her.

“I would appreciate an assistant,” Tanu said.

“I’ll help,” Patton said, standing up, “Unless you have a job for me elsewhere.”

Seth shook his head, “Helping Tanu is perfect.”

He turned to Grandma and Grandpa, “I need you guys to work with the staff. Let them know we’ve been warned of a threat, organize extra lookouts and patrols, organize a watch over the barrel, that kind of stuff. We don’t know what direction the threat coming from, so we cover as many directions as possible.”

Now it was time for Grandma to look amused, and Grandpa to look proud.

“Understood Seth,” she said. “We will retreat to the Winter Study to plan. Henrick will be back soon, and his help will be invaluable with this. We should wait to inform the staff until after he joins us.”

“Great idea, go for it. Er, where’s the Winter Study?” Seth asked, trying to remember from their tour.

“Directly below Kendra’s bedroom,” Agad said. “On the first floor.”

Seth nodded, he’d knock on doors until he found the right one.

Seth turned to his remaining players, “And finally: Doren, Newel, Tess, and Knox. I have a very special job for you. Wait outside the door while I make sure of something with Agad.”

“That’s our cue to leave,” Grandma said, patting a hand on her husband’s leg.

“The abundance of caution while in command suits you,” Grandpa said, standing up. He put his hand on Seth’s shoulder as he passed, “I’m proud of how you’re handling this situation.”

Considering a little over a week ago, he’d gotten a stern lecture about endangering his cousin and the consequences to trying to trick magic, this was quite the change. Grandpa smiled, and walked past him. There was a small lump in his throat. This feeling was why Kendra always did her best to make people proud of her. It was rarely sent his way.

Tanu and Patton also left, then the satyrs and his cousins went just outside the door.

Seth walked close to Agad and lowered his voice, “Tess is Fairy struck, can she see through distractor spells?”

Agad nodded.

Seth smiled and nodded as well. He whispered. “Can you bring the treaty document to the tower?”

Agad shook his head, “It is locked in a box in the Winter Study. The medallion opens the box. I recommend against moving it.”

Seth looked at Marat.

“I agree, with my brother. We have the contents memorized, we should only consult them upon need.”

Seth nodded, then stepped back.

“See you at Seth Tower soon.”

The two of them left, and Seth took a moment to fling himself on the couch and groan. The energy had left when everyone else did. Leading was such hard work! For the millionth time, he wished Kendra had let him turn the key. Sure he’d be kidnapped and being trained into an evil Shadow Charmer right now, but Kendra was so much smarter than him, she would have figured out about the intruder way before.

Probably because she had better judgement than him and didn’t usually trust terrible people right off the bat. And like she said, people usually had enough confidence in her to just trust her with important stuff.

The door creaked open, “Uh, Seth, did you have a job for us?” Newel asked.

Seth got up and went to the door. Remembering from his first day, he used the medallion to unlock a desk drawer in the corner, and pulled out a key ring, slipping it into his adventure pouch.

“Yeah, follow me, I don’t know how much of the keep Tess and Knox got to see,” Seth said, “And it’s a good time to get an updated map of it, in case we come under siege. It’s possible the Dragons are just going to stare us down until we run out of food. Any of you got any talent at drawing maps?”

There was a pause as Seth led on.

“I’ve dealt with a fair amount of treasure maps in my day,” Doren admitted, “And I’m not a shabby hand with a pen. I can draw.”

“Awesome,” Seth said, “Start with the storerooms in the basement storerooms, where the barrel was before, then the dungeons, then the ground floor. If you can get through those floors by lunch, that’d be great, but make sure to do them all. I want you three to go with him, and look for anything that seems suspicious. Look through the dungeons, but if any of you touch the Blackwell, or the chain next to the Blackwell, I’m throwing all of you inside it,” Seth said.

Seth had led them into the library and started pulling out loose sheets of paper, “Doesn’t matter how small. If it seems out of place, make a note of it.”

“Are you sure this is the best use of our time Seth?” Newel asked dubiously.

Seth grinned, “It’s a very good use of your time.”

Seth started writing on various blank papers, while they all watched him. He turned to his younger cousin when he was finished.

“Right. Tess? I want you looking for pictures and weird things on the walls.”

On this sheet of paper, Seth had written:

Every single time you see a person or creature, point at them, say something nice about them, and ask if you can talk to them. Knox will either say that you’re busy, or that the person isn’t there. Nod and keep walking every single time. Don’t let anyone know what’s written here, keep it a secret. Put a clean sheet on top of this one.  

“Here’s a list of the things you should look for. This is an old castle, there might be secret passages that we need to find out about before someone sneaks in,” Seth said, handing her the paper. She immediately started reading.

“Knox, you’re looking up higher, pay attention to cold or warm drafts and the items in the rooms, make note of which ones have weapons, look for places where the intruder could be staying,” Seth said, handing him a piece of paper that read:

Tess is going to ask to speak to everyone she sees. She has magic eyes like Kendra. If you see who she’s pointing to, tell her that you’re too busy to bother them. If you don’t see who she is pointing to, tell her that there’s no one there and you don’t have time for games. Make notes, but don’t engage.

He turned to Newel, “Your job is to make sure no one runs into walls while writing stuff down, and make sure to explore everything. Bring the cool stuff back to me, so that our item troll doesn’t try to keep it for the shelves.” Seth said, spouting nonsense. “Write down where you find it though, in case Agad says we need to return it or unleash another apocalypse.”

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission,” Newel nodded with a salute. Seth handed him a paper that read:

If someone was listening to our meeting, they are going to be following you. Watch for them. Tess and Knox are going to be acting weird, just ignore them. You’re on protector duty.

And Seth handed fully blank sheets to Doren, “And, of course, you’re on the map. Here’s paper, pens, clipboard, and scotch tape. Everyone know their job?”

The four of them looked excited as they nodded. “Good,” Seth said, “Meet back in the War Room after lunch.”

Doren and Newel slung another salute. Tess tried to copy them and slapped herself in the face. Knox just rolled his eyes.

They left, and Seth debated between going to check up on Grandma and Grandpa, or heading straight to Seth Tower.

His grandparents couldn’t set anything in stone without Hendrick, so he’d head to the Tower. He’d be able to see Henrick coming back, and take him to Grandma and Grandpa when the Alcetaur arrived.

Up at the tower room, Marat and Agad were waiting for him.

“So, magic defenses in place?” Seth asked.

Agad nodded, “Perfect, just like I said twenty minutes ago. Mind explaining more of your plan?”

“Sure,” Seth said, “Grandma and Grandpa are doing exactly what I said they were. Running the past week from Blackwell made them the best people for that, until Hendrick gets back to help. Tanu is also doing exactly what I told him too.

“I sent Tess, Knox, and the satyrs looking for people hiding themselves with distractor spells, but they look like they’re creating a fresh map of the lower floors. Tess is pointing out everyone she sees to Knox, Knox is telling her that they’re too busy to talk to anyone and taking note of the people that Tess sees that he doesn’t. Because they’re the group doing the most suspicious work, I’m hoping any spies here are following them, letting the rest of us get things done. Newel is on the look out for someone following them, and thinks that’s what he thinks they’re doing. Doren is actually creating a map.”

Seth was rather proud of that plan, and feeling pretty ingenious for coming up with it in only ten minutes.

“Once again, not bad,” Agad said.

Seth gave a dry smile, “I learned from the best teacher. The Sphinx betraying me and my friends over and over. After this, I’m going to do my own sweep, trying to see through the shadows while shadow walking.”

“Might I recommend also holding your unsheathed sword at the same time?” Marat said. “That is the sword of Tregain, yes?”

Seth glanced down, “Oh that’s right! This sword helps make people look away from me, especially bigger creatures. I’ll definitely do that.”

“A very pro-active plan,” Agad said, “I will admit to not even considering the idea of someone hiding in the Blackwell. The barrel messes with the traditional rule of only allowing visitors a single night of stay, as that magic is activated upon crossing the boundary.”

“I do not believe that is all to our caretaker’s plan,” Marat said, amused, “I believe he feels he will do more for our mission elsewhere, and intends to return the mantle of caretaker to me.”

Agad gaped, then turned, “Is this true, Seth?”

Seth nodded, “Celebrant is no longer co-caretaker. The issue we came here to solve, the weakening barrier, is fixed. There’s no problem with Marat being caretaker, according to Dromadus, so long as he stays in human form. I’d be a lot more useful helping track down Kendra and Bracken.”

“Before you go any farther,” Agad said, holding up a hand, “There are things I wish to disclose to the caretaker of a dragon sanctuary. The remaining lines of defense after the sanctuaries fall. We can continue to discuss your possible resignation afterwards.”

Seth hopped onto a wide window ledge, “Okay, hit me. What else we got before the next apocalypse?”

“These secrets should not be repeated,” Agad warned, “Except to your most trusted ally at the time of greatest need.”

Seth glanced at Marat, who nodded, “I am already aware of the provisions my brother speaks of. Do not worry.”

“The first is why Dragons from fallen sanctuaries have yet to invade the mortal world,” Agad explained, “There is a magic item, perhaps the most magic item in existence —”

“More then the Wizenstone?” Seth asked, eyebrows raised. He was starting to suspect that there wasn’t an actual standard for how ‘magic’ an item is.

Agad paused, and Marat chuckled. Agad continued, “No, I suppose, not greater than the Wizenstone. Possibly it’s equal. I would not like to test either object against the other. The skull of the first dragon that ever lived, Abraxtus, is more heavily ensorcelled, than any other object I have ever come in contact with. It is called The Sovereign Skull. It takes all the disbelief in magic that all mortals generate, and creates a repulsive barrier against dragons. This is our absolute last line of defense, and must be protected at all costs. Only a few wizards know the location, and that information will never be divulged for its own protection.”

Seth nodded, “Can I have the name of a wizard that does know? Just in case.”

Agad looked him straight in the eye. “No.”

Seth nodded, “That’s fair. Sounds like we’re hoping it doesn’t get that far.” As though they had ever had any luck in that department.

“Another line of defense: the Dragon Slayers,” Agad said.

Seth grinned, “The Somber Knight was so cool. A bit of a downer, but a real life-saver. He’s still a bit…messy, after rescuing Kendra from being dinner. You’re talking about the ones at the other six sanctuaries, right?”

Agad nodded, “In addition to the other six at sanctuaries, there are five others that have been living in the world, waiting to be called upon again. It will take a while to wake them up, but Celebrant declaring war was the key.”

Seth nodded, “You did the same thing with the dragon preserves that you did with the demon prisons. How are these guys at handling immortality? We sure they didn’t try to off themselves?”

Agad said, “They all already had experiences with extended lifespans, so hopefully we are rousing them from a pleasurable retirement. And then there is a line of defense you are slightly more familiar with: the three treasures in the secret dragon temples.”

“Right, gauntlets that control dragons. Every dragon in a hundred miles comes by to kill you if you look at them funny,” Seth recited, remembering Thronis’s warning.

Agad nodded, “There are two other items, and two other sacred temples guarding these items at dragon sanctuaries. The harp that can send any dragon to sleep, and the shield that can defend against any dragon’s attack. These items were necessary to winning the war against the dragons the first time, and now that we’re facing war again, we need them back.”

Seth tilted his head, “Did they already get new guardians for the temple here at Wyrmroost? Cause we killed them, and its not like those were your ordinary, everyday dragons, and no one besides Gavin and Thronis knew we went there for the obsidian waste key.”

“It would be foolish to assume they aren’t guarded,” Agad said, considering carefully, “Though it is also strange that Celebrant has never ranted against your party for that affront. The answer is that I do not know.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone thought about the predicament.

“Well,” Seth said, “How buried is the translocator? Me and Kendra have been in the temple treasure room, we, er, I, for the moment, could grab the gloves and come back in a snap.”

Marat spoke up, “Bringing the translocator back into play at this time would be a dangerous move. That item is really too powerful. Dragons in human form could use it to escape the sanctuaries without a fight.”

Agad nodded, “All the artifacts are currently inaccessible. We used the Chronometer to hide the translocator, the sands of sanctity, and the occulous six more years in the future, waiting for us to finish designing the vaults. The Font needed to remain in the present, to support our first immortal, but that is the only artifact accessible. At least, until the Sphinx made off with it during his escape. Good thinking, but unfortunately untenable.”

A horn sounded from the parapet over the gate.

“That means a dragon is coming, right?” Seth asked, turning around in the window. “Raxtus maybe?”

“It means official visitors,” Marat clarified, “It certainly has been seeing its use this week. It also announced the arrival of the carriage from Stormguard.”

“Got it,” Seth said, standing up, “Anything else you need to tell the current caretaker of wyrmroost about the grand scheme of defenses?”

“No, those are our three lines: talismans, dragon slayers, and The Sovereign Skull,” Agad counted.

“Okay, I’ll keep those in mind, and never tell anyone, unless I absolutely have to,” Seth said, drawing a cross over his heart for good measure. “My plan is simple. Celebrant is a great big ego, right? He hates Kendra for insulting him, and it’s embarrassing that he keeps losing to a couple of kids. He’s getting help, he’s getting desperate, no matter what his plan is, right?”

Agad nodded.

“So, I’m going to offer him one last insult as caretaker,” Seth said with a grin, “His little rebellion isn’t even worth my time. After we deal with our guests at the gate, I’m going to do my sweep of everywhere while walking through shadows. Then I’m going to give being caretaker over to Marat, and we’re going to leave, with the barrel. That’s Blackwell’s biggest weakness, and it doesn’t need to be here for us to use it. I’ll leave Marat with a parting note to read to Celebrant, letting him know that we have better things to do.”

Agad started chuckling, moving his hand to cover his mouth when it didn’t stop.

“Boom,” Seth said with relish, “Biggest weakness removed, whoever is in the castle has to figure out how to kill Marat, who’s going to be a lot harder to kill than me, I get to go after Kendra, and we throw one last insult over our shoulder.”

Agad continued to laugh, but the most Marat gave was an amused look.

“And how exactly do you intend to leave?” Marat asked, “The walkway between the typical entrance and the Keep will not be guarded for this trip.”

“We have some pretty cool rides,” Seth said, “Not sure you saw them when Patton came in, but Kendra met up with a fairy godmother and boom, the luvians we were riding all have wings. We’ll need to make it so they can leave the sanctuary with us, but if they can make it through the sky on a festival night, they can probably get us past the barrier. We’ll have to ask them of course, but I think we’ll be in pretty good shape. They strike me as adventurous.”

“I would like to make one suggestion,” Agad said, wiping a tear from his eye, “Leave in peace, no one attacks at all, and leave before night falls. I’m sure they intend to strike in the dark. You leave two hours before sunset, and Celebrant likely wont have time to demand to know what you’re doing. Use Tess’s cloak of innocence to see you safely past the barrier.”

“Oh, that is wicked,” Marat chuckled. “But we have dawdled enough. The horn summons the caretaker to official business.”

Seth took one last look out the window and down the road, and paused. He pulled out his eyeglass from his adventure pouch. “Is that…Henrick leading a bunch dryads?”

[malikmata]

Notes from a Brown Boy - Kansas Diaries

*Author’s Note: Some people’s names have been changed to protect their identities

The rain was the first thing to greet me when I landed in Wichita. Overhead the gray clouds loomed, shadowing the farmland that yawned in the distance. Distance. At first glance, the city seemed like one long stretch of prairies and cracked parking lots, occasionally punctuated by billboards of grinning injury lawyers and lit up restaurant road signs.

If you spend enough time here amid the crumbling old buildings, watching the weeds sway in the vacant lots, you’ll feel the slow, inevitable creep of dread or something like it.

It’s easy to feel lonely here.

But, if you’re receptive enough, you’ll run into many friendly folks. Sometimes too friendly.

For example: During my first week, I went to Freddy’s, a local fast food chain, and ordered a crispy chicken sandwich with fries. The cashier, a young woman with glasses and short blonde hair, suddenly started confessing her fear that her 8-year old chihuahua wouldn’t live a long life.

“I still think of him as a teenager,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s a chihuahua. They live long lives.”

Out here, in the most middle-of-the-road cities, you sometimes get a chance to show an act of passing kindness. While waiting in line at one of the hip, new cafes downtown, a place called Milkfloat, a tall elderly gentleman recommended which coffee and pastry to get.

“My wife says this place has the best cold brew in town.” Afterwards, grabbing his pastry and coffee, he wished me a good day. Most folks here always do and you better hope it comes true. Because here, like elsewhere, a day is filled with ordinary heartbreaks.

I will simply call her “Tita.” She works as a tailor at a department store, the only tailor working there, hemming and tapering racks full of suit pants under fluorescent lights. The nature of the job requires exact measurements and a keen eye for detail. She works hard, often skips lunch, and comes home dead tired. Her husband is recovering from 4 broken ribs after a car repair job went awry. Nothing can be done but wait until he gets better.

They live in a languid suburb on Wichita’s east side, a street with few sidewalks but plenty of lawn.

And noise. Plenty of noise. The neighborhood sits next to a car dealership. The skies overhead rumble continuously with airplanes and thunderstorms. Dogs bark at anyone who gets too close. A pickup truck blasts a corny country song as the cicadas and frogs belt out their lonely mating calls. Occasionally, a child’s laughter rises above it all.

Gossip is one of the great pastimes in towns like these. Even if you shut yourself up in your home, stories trickle in.

The neighbor across the street shot himself in the head.

The elderly couple that used to live next door got committed to a nursing home.

A fellow around the corner is on his third attempt to grow weed.

A college student starves himself morning to night so that he can save money for college.

Down the street, a kid lifts weights and punches the heavy bag hanging on his front porch.

Here, dumb luck seems, more so than in the big cities, the providence of God.

A man told me he got a job installing new carpets at a friend’s house. He was in desperate need of money, having sent most of it to his mother back home, who proceeded to gamble it away. When he ripped out the old carpet, he found a bundle of $10,000 dollars just lying there. His co-worker said, “We should split it.”

“No, no, we can’t take it.” the man said. He gave the money to his friend.

Sometime later, he went to the casino and couldn’t stop winning jackpot after jackpot. He brought home close to $16,000 in one night.

“So, if you do something good,” he told me, “God will remember that.”

Many people have come to live and die here, all of them wrapped up in the melancholic churning of faded ambitions and familial obligations.

Some people here have found something that returns them to the placidity they once felt in their youth. Sometimes that’s enough to keep them going.

For example:

I met Phil Uhlik, the namesake of the music store on E Douglas. He heard me playing an old Martin acoustic in one of the rooms. He shuffled in slightly hunched over, wearing a blue paisley shirt and brown shorts. He looked at the sunburst guitar in my hands and said, “It’s got a little beauty mark there.” He pointed to a small nick just above the sound hole. “All girls have beauty marks.” He pointed to his cheeks and smiled.

Uhlik started this music store 51 years ago and enjoys every moment of it.

“When you go to work for Boeing, that’s work,” he said. “But this, it doesn’t feel like work.” He motioned to the instruments all around him.

“How’d you get started?” I asked.

“I started off playing one of these,” he said, taking one of the accordions off a nearby shelf. As he strapped it on, all the years seemed to disappear. With a big crooked-teeth grin, he breathed life into the old accordion, his hands dancing up and down the keys. The smile never left his face as we bid farewell to each other.

I wish everyone in this world were as lucky as Phil.

I’m always seeking indie bookstores when I travel. Eighth Day Books provides much needed shelter from the summer heat. The shop was built 33 years ago and used to be located about half a mile east, in Clifton Square Village. About 17 years ago they moved to their current location, a 1920 Dutch-style colonial house on the corner of E Douglas and N Erie. Its blue trimmed windows peek through the foliage of neighboring trees.

When you walk in, you’ll see shelves of books on Christianity and Theological studies, most notably in the Eastern Orthodox tradition. I’ve never seen a bookshop with a section dedicated to Iconography.

Wichita, despite its size, feels like a small place. And with that cramped spaciousness, you’re likely to run into someone you may remember or who may remember you. Here I ran into my girlfriend’s 8th grade English teacher. A bald, bespectacled man with a gentle demeanor. After a bit of catching up, he said to us with a smile, “I hope all your dreams come true.”

The short story writer, Raymond Carver, once wrote: “Dreams… are what you wake up from.”

Wichita is a land that hypnotizes you; it makes you dream, dream of something beyond the miles of strip malls and airplane factories, beyond the shocks of wheat and windswept plains, beyond the doldrums and ennui. But it also shakes you awake, reminds you that you’re in it, that you better stop dreaming.

I’m not the religious sort anymore, having survived the regime laid down by my Catholic parents. But there is something enthralling, maybe even inspirational, when I look at the rows of beautifully painted portraits of saints and martyrs. Such solemn faces surrounded by golden halos. According to the Eastern Orthodox tradition, such paintings transcend art; they’re supposed to be windows through which you can glimpse the divine. They remind me of my grandparents with their judging eyes and moral seriousness.

My book haul for the day:

Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata

The Diary of Anne Frank

Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries by Marina Tsvetaeva

Near to the Wild Heart by Clarice Lispector

In that last book, I found this lovely little passage:

…”in the Revolution, as always, the weight of everyday life falls on women: previously--in sheaves, now in sacks. Everyday life is a sack with holes. And you carry it anyway.”

From Earthly Signs, P. 40

According to the 2019 United States census bureau, 15.9% of Wichita's population lives below the poverty line. That’s higher than the state average, which hovers around 11.4%. That’s not the lowest nor is it the highest in the country. As befitting its location, Kansas is right in the middle.

The minimum wage in Kansas is still $7.25 despite efforts to increase it to $15. When Covid-19 hit, city and service workers bore the brunt of the impact. You can keep all your empty slogans like  “We Love Our Frontline Workers.” Congratulate me all you want for my hard work but where’s my pay?

When you see that business here has returned to normal--people freely walking around without masks, no longer socially distancing--it still feels all too strange; we spent an entire year under lockdown. There’s still a pandemic by the way.

Loved ones fell ill, died alone, hooked up to ventilators in closed off hospital rooms. I believe every interaction now carries the weight of all those deaths. My family, like so many others, didn’t escape unscathed from the pandemic. My grandpa, Amang, caught Covid. Since he was an elderly citizen (and suffering from emphysema to boot), he was among those considered most at risk. We all feared the worst. Somehow he survived. The doctors called him a “trailblazer.”

Now, with businesses back to 100% capacity, I’m afraid that, just like the 1918 Flu epidemic, the past will fade like a nightmare upon waking. But it was so much more than that; it was an avoidable tragedy.

If you want to know what this pandemic has done to people and their livelihoods, is still doing to them, take a ride through downtown.

Things were already going bad before Covid hit. Back in 2004, the writer Thomas Frank wrote,

“There were so many closed shops in Wichita… that you could drive for blocks without ever leaving their empty parking lots, running parallel to the city streets past the shut-down sporting goods stores and toy stores and farm implement stores.”

What’s the Matter with Kansas: How Conservatives Won the Heart of America, P. 75

What led to all this blight? Frank attributes the decline to:

“the conservatives’ beloved free market capitalism, a system that, at its most unrestrained, has little use for smalltown merchants or the agricultural system that supported the small towns in the first place.”

-P. 79

The same story happens in a lot of places. A megacorporation keeps eating everything around it and leaves nothing else at the table.

The people are left hurting, a pit in their stomachs, and some asshole somewhere profits off of it.

While at the DMV, I overheard this:

“You have a good day now,” the security guard said.

“I’ll try my best,” a woman said.

My girlfriend heard them too and laughed.

“You really do have to try your best in order to have a good day here.”

At some point, we hit the town with a couple friends: Monica, and her boyfriend Will. Both are musicians trying to carve out their niche in a place that, on the surface, seems apathetic to creative pursuits.

It’s impossible to not be captured by their energy. As soon as we walk into their house, Monica, with her dark blonde hair draped over her shoulders, reached in for a hug. Will, a tall and bearded fellow with a bear-like presence, also went in for the hug.

“Ready to experience some Wichita nightlife?” Monica asked.

What is the nightlife here like? A group of high school punks wanted to fight us over a couple movie theater seats. Bored kids play rounds of “Chinese Fire Drill” at stop lights. I heard a nazi biker gang rolled into town at some point during my stay. Regular things like that.

At a low-key bar downtown called Luckys, I met a guy named Cory. He told me how he met a 15 year old kid loitering here, looking lost and forlorn.

“I don’t know what kind of advice I can give you but I’ll do the best I can,” Cory said.

This is the spirit I’ve often come across during my stay: A sort of slightly intrusive compassion. For a cynical Californian like me, the behavior seems a little strange, maybe even a little annoying. But I’ve come to appreciate the candor of it.

“Guaranteed we’ll know half the people here,” Will said.

Right away, he shook hands with the bartender—a high school friend of his—and asked him how his band was doing. Afterwards, we sat down and talked. Talking, after a year of pandemic lockdown, has become a lost art to me. But a little alcohol loosened the lips and suddenly I talked as though I’d known these people my whole life.

Will sipped his whisky on the rocks and told me:

“If everything in this world is meant to break down eventually, then any act of creation becomes an act of defiance.”

It may sound naive but to me, it’s true. I think about the words of the writer, John Berger:

Compassion defies the laws of necessity. To forget yourself and identify with a stranger has a power that defies the supposed natural order of things.

--The Shape of a Pocket, P. 179

Making art has to be, in some way, a compassion act, because it involves letting the environment and the people you meet speak for themselves, allowing a collaboration.

“When a painting is lifeless it is the result of the painter not having the nerve to get close enough for a collaboration to start… Every authentic painting demonstrates a collaboration.”

--The Shape of a Pocket, P. 16

You need to open yourself up, feel what someone is saying behind their words, and hopefully, feel what they feel.

Art, like Compassion, is defiant.

Among the 4 or so Asian markets here, you can find all the ingredients you need to cook up something good. During my first week, I stopped at a place called Grace Market. Like a lot of small Asian markets, it’s family run. A father from Taiwan. A mother from Korea. The son usually helps out when he can. Today (June 23), On this warm Wednesday morning, the son is manning the cash register.

“You’re from California? I’m from there too,” he said.

“Where at?” I asked.

“Sacramento. How about you? So Cal?”

“Nah, Bay Area.”

“Funny. That’s where my parents met.”

“Small world.”

On a different day, we met the father, a jovial man who never fails to say hi when you walk in. He came here over a couple decades ago from California, doing work for the US Army in Garden City. Once his service was over, he decided to stay in Kansas.

“I think you know why,” he said.

More and more young folks these days are leaving California. The high cost of living is presumably what’s driving this exodus. I told him I was also thinking of leaving the Golden State, as much as I love the place.

“Well, a town like this has a lot of potential if you want to save money,” he said. “If I tried to start this business in California, I don’t think I could’ve done it.”

The summer heat can, with the suddenness of a lightning flash, give way to thunderous storms. Speaking as someone from California, whose home has gone through excruciating periods of drought and wildfire, these nightly downpours are a startling yet relaxing sight.

The distant boom of thunder in the distance reminds you of how much of our lives depend on the weather, how small we are in comparison, how we are never separate from the goings-on of nature. The rain doesn’t come down lightly here. At night, it smacks and drums against the window pane with all the force of an animal trying to get inside.

But I don’t find myself frightened by it so much as awed by the combined power of wind and rain colliding against our rickety old house.

Kansas lies in the Great Plains, where layers of cool and warm air often combine into a low-level jet stream. Unimpeded by any natural obstacles on the wide flat plains, the wind roars across the expanse. Thunder growls over the prairie. And lightning flashes on the horizon in a fearsome red tinge.

The storm rages throughout the night, the only source of light in an ocean-sized plain.

“In general, the gods of the Wichita are spoken of as "dreams," and they are divided into four groups: Dreams-that-are-Above (Itskasanakatadiwaha), or, as the Skidi would say, the heavenly gods; and (2) Dreams-down-Here (Howwitsnetskasade), which, according to the Skidi terminology, are the earthly gods. The latter "dreams" in turn are divided into two groups: Dreams-living-in-Water (Itska-sanidwaha), and the Dreams-closest-to-Man (Tedetskasade)”

From The Mythology of the Wichita, P. 33

If you go downtown, you’ll see a sculpture called “The Keeper of the Plains.”

It’s almost 9 o’ clock when I get there, so large crowds have gathered to watch the ring of fire lit around its perimeter.

The statue was designed by indigenous artist and craftsman, Blackbear Bosin. Born in Cyril, Oklahoma, but living much of his adult life in Wichita, Kansas, Bosin was of Comanche and Kiowa descent and almost entirely self-taught as an artist.

When you come upon the Keeper of the Plains, standing tall on the fork of the Arkansas and Little Arkansas Rivers, you can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and sadness. It’s a striking statue, especially when set against the beautiful orange and lavender hues of the setting sun. But monuments like these end up reminding you of the Wichita peoples who were killed, displaced, driven from their land, and left to die in reservations, forgotten. The tribes that once lived here along the southern plains still show traces of their culture but now, you’ll see it mostly as a memory in a museum or as art hanging on the walls of a library.

I learned from a video by the Wichita Eagle that the last speaker of the Wichita language, Doris Jean Lamar, died back in 2016. It must be indescribably lonely to be the last speaker of a language. There is no one to have a conversation with, no one to whom you can confess your hopes or your regrets. But in the video, Lamar, even knowing that she is the last speaker, expresses hope that future generations will know what the language sounded like.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ScPkN_xGRI

Is forgiveness even possible when injustices are still committed today against native peoples everywhere?

Not enough can be said about the skies here, which seem at times so brilliantly marbled with peach and lavender colors that you begin to walk with your head perpetually craned upwards.

It’s this aspect, the overwhelming sense of the sublime, that will probably stay with me long after I’ve left Kansas.

I think again about the nature of dreams. It isn’t such a sin to dream about things, about things that haven’t happened yet, and about things that have happened. To quit dreaming seems too cynical, like admitting from the outset that everything is screwed, that you should stop trying.

During my stay here, I’ve met many people who aren’t so irony poisoned yet, people who are achingly sincere and kind. They haven’t stopped trying. There isn’t much room for cynicism here. I appreciate that a lot.

Farewell to you, Kansas, you and your clumps of cumulus and vast fields of cows and grass. I’ll see you again.

Check out Will’s music! It’s gloomy, melancholy, and LOUD!: https://teamtremolo.bandcamp.com/album/intruder

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Meant To Be: Part 2

Pairings: Machine Gun Kelly x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drug use, descriptions of an overdose

Word Count: 2,384

A/N: Y’all can thank @wings-of-a-raven for this one….

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Your step mother, Anne cooed in her deep Southern accent as you walked into your family run road side stand to see if your dad could use an extra hand behind the register. “Wait until your father hears the good news! And look at this handsome little bean!”

“Is he here?” You asked as you pushed your Chanel sunglasses on top of your head and dropped the strap of your diaper bag on the handle of the stroller. 

“He’s out back, sugar.” She said as she gestured behind herself, vaguely while making faces at Gage. “Hello! Hello!” Your poor son, who had never met his grandparents before, started to cry, which made the damaged half of you giggle the slightest bit since Anne was the reason your parents got divorced in the first place.

“Oh, let’s go find grandpa, bubba.” You cooed as you stepped to the side of the stroller so Gage could see you as you pushed the stroller toward the back. “Oh, my goodness I know! The mean scary lady got right in your face…”

“Oh!” Anne gasped at your back. “Well bless your heart!”

“My heart don’t need blessin’!” You called out over your shoulder with a smile. 

“The hell did you say to her this time?” Your dad, Ross called out from under his 1972 Ford pick up.

“I didn’t say anything.” You said with a shrug as you let Gage chew on your finger to calm himself down. “I need work.”

“What, did that bright California sun finally burn all your nonsense hopes and dreams away?”

“Nope, the piece of shit baby daddy did that in three minutes and twenty two seconds.” Ross sighed and dropped his wrench in the dirt he was laying on and slid out from under the car to look at you.

“I never liked that punk anyways.” He sighed as he looked you up and down. “You look good, kid.”

“Thanks, pop.” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your freshly dyed red hair and put your sunglasses back on. “Now if only the modeling agencies would overlook the c-section scar like they did the thick thighs… and you know, the whole heroin addiction shit.”

“Yea, fuck those dumb shits.” He grumbled as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Wouldn’t know a good thing if it punched ‘em in the dick.”

“You need a hand behind the register?” You asked as you took an offered smoke and stood up.

“I’m guessin’ this little slugger’s taggin’ along?” He asked as you turned your stroller around so Gage could still see you when you smoked.

“Someone’s gotta count the register.” Your dad nodded his head slowly as he looked at his grandson and took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Fuck kinda name is Gage, anyway?”

“One that I fucking picked, asshole.” You laughed as you looked over at him. “Jesus, old man.”

“Gage.” He repeated with a shake of his head. “Sounds like a damn car part.”

“You’re an idiot.” You laughed as he pat your cheek and crouched down to go back to work.

“You leave your step-mama alone if you’re sitting at that register all day!” He called out as he picked up his wrench. “And don’t you be eatin’ all the damn honey sticks like your sister, neither or I’m dockin’ your pay, too!”

“Never liked the honey sticks anyways!” You called back before taking one last drag of your cigarette and heading inside. “I’ll take it from here.” You said as sweetly as you could to Anne as you pushed the stroller up beside the hand made counter your older brother had made when you were just a kid.

“Unbelievable.” She sighed as she grabbed her water bottle and got up from her little chair to go and complain to your dad. With a victorious smile, you picked your son up out of his car seat and smiled broadly at him as you waited for the couple customers in the store to pick out what they wanted.

——

“So the misfit daughter came back home.” Your older brother, Junior, said as he came into the farm stand the next morning with a giant teasing smile on his face. “Shit, when did he get so big?”

“I ask myself that every morning.” You sighed as you turned down the music playing on your phone, stood up, and headed around the counter to say hi to your brother. “How’s the fields?”

“Field-y.” He chuckled as he gave you a dirt covered one armed hug. “Still taking your clothes off for money?”

“You’re a fucking idiot. No, don’t touch my baby!” You snapped as you whacked at your brother’s hands. “I’m mad at you!”

“Oh, boo hoo.” He teased as he leaned over the side of the pack and play and reached in to brush his knuckle across Gage’s cheek. “Seriously, though. He’s adorable.” You thanked him softly and pulled your chair over to sit for a little bit while you monitored the morning delivery of the fresh produce. “You want me to kill him?”

“You don’t have to kill him.” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair. “I just… shit, I don’t even know anymore.”

“What don’t we know?” Your sister, Tabby asked as she came in the front with eggs from her chickens.

“What I’m gunna do with myself anymore.” You breathed as you rested your elbow on the counter and propped your head up on your palm. “I just keep asking myself where the fuck I went wrong in my life?”

“When you became a stripper.” Tabby said as she put the eggs in the old Coke fridge.

“I was never…”

“When you started dating that dickhead.” Junior interrupted as he pointed at your baby sister.

“When you though doing coke at dad’s wedding was a good idea.”

“When you dropped out of high school.”

“That time you drank a whole bottle of tequila at my graduation.”

“When you moved to California in the middle of the night without a word.”

“That time…”

“OK, enough you two.” You barked as you whacked Junior’s arm because he was the closest. “I get it, alright? I’m the black sheep of the family.”

“You two leave your sister alone and get back to work.” Ross said as he carried in a large box of cucumbers. “Shit ain’t gunna carry itself in.” You let out an exhausted sigh and gave your father a grateful smile as he paused just long enough to pat the counter. “You too, (Y/N). Those jelly jars won’t make it out on the shelves by themselves.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“And you better turn that assholes music off!” He yelled as he headed back out to finish unloading the truck. You scowled at his back and grabbed your cell phone to turn off YouTube and the amateur videos you had been watching from MGK’s show in Salt Lake City the night before to get to work.

——

“Dre!” You shouted from your kitchen counter top, where you had been flirting with another model from the agency you worked for that had just done a Harley Davidson shoot with you earlier that day. “Baby!”

“Lookin’ dime!” Your friend shouted over the loud music as he came over to give you a hug hello. “Brought my boy I was tellin’ you about.” You sat up with a giant smile and looked at the tall, super skinny white boy that was standing in your crowded living room.

“Well fuck me runnin’ naked in a corn field.” You groaned with a giant smile on your face as you jumped down off the counter and pulled your very short black dress down over your thick thighs a little more. “(Y/N).”

“Call me Kels.” He said as he shook your head and looked you up and down. “Damn. Dre said you were fuckin’ fine but I’m pretty sure that don’t even fucking begin to cover it.”

“Oh, a charmer.” You teased as you laced your arm with his and turned toward your friend. “Can I keep him, pretty please? He seems like so much fun.”

“You’re in for a wild ride with that one.” Dre joked as he handed Kels a mixed drink from the alcohol you had lined up on your bar.

“Wait, you don’t want that shit!” You said quickly as you yanked the cup out of Kels hand before he could even take a sip. “Handsome guy like you deserves my personal fave. Help me.” With a glance back at Dre, he held on to your hips and gave you a small push so you could climb up on the counter. You teetered a bit in your heels as you grabbed a half empty bottle of Johnnie Walker blue label from on top of the cabinets, and turned back toward him. “I have to hide it from the Goddamn heathens.”

“You’re gunna break your fuckin’ neck, girl.” Kels laughed as he grabbed your hips again and pulled you off the counter. You squeaked when you accidentally landed on his toes and fell forward into his tattooed chest.

“Jesus, when the fuck did my Southern ass stop being able to hold my fucking liquor.” You giggled as you placed your hand on his chest to catch your balance. He shrugged as you looked up into the most blue eyes you had ever seen. “Damn. I really wanna keep you…”

“I think that can be arranged.” He said through a smirk as he gave your hip a small squeeze. A slight blush crept up your cheeks and you cleared your throat as you held up the liquor bottle.

“Drink to it?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Colson laid in his bunk after yet another show, slowly flipping through photos from the cloud on his new phone from the first night you met. He remembered that night so well, the way your laugh made everything in his world feel right. The sweet noises he pulled out of you as he fucked you relentlessly in your bed while the party raged on the other side of the wall. And he especially remembered the small whine you made when he tried to leave.

“Stay with me.” You whispered as you reached up to try and rub your reddish pink lipstick off his throat. “Looks like you have to, because I marked you.”

He smiled at the memory as he got to the last photo from that small bunch; the one he had taken the next morning before you had to rush out the door for work, 20 minutes late because he couldn’t help himself but to take you once more. You were laying in bed in the shirt he had worn to the party, your hair was a mess, and you had a small smudge of mascara under your eyes that hadn’t come off the night before when you washed your face. To this day, he thought it was one of the most beautiful photos of you he had ever seen.

“Damn, baby.” He sighed as he brushed his thumb across the screen. “What the fuck happened to us, girl?” With a huff, he grabbed his cigarettes and got out of bed, even though it was nearly six in the morning and he had just finished a concert in Oklahoma. He plodded past the other bunks and flopped down on one of the couches as he looked at the same photo. He laid the phone down gently and reached for a joint, before grabbing a receipt off the table and a pen. He sat back in his spot and started jotting down ideas for a new song for you.

——

“It’s not fucking right.” Kels said for the hundredth time as he listened to the playback of your song. His band groaned as he stood back up and headed back toward the small studio in his tour bus. “Let’s do it again…”

“Kels.” JP sighed as he stuck his arm out in front of the door. “Man… you gotta stop.”

“Don’t gotta go shit.” 

“Bro!” The younger man shouted as he stood up and got into his ‘brother’s’ face. “The reason it doesn’t sound perfect is because (Y/N) isn’t the one hearing it. Shit is gunna sound rough as fuck to you until she hears it and we all fucking know it. You’ve been a royal dick for weeks…”

“Man, fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off!” JP roared as he shoved the singer back. “Go fucking find her already! Even if you don’t want her and you just want your fucking kid, go do something about it! Because you’re a fucking dick that none of us wanna be around right now!” Kels looked around at the rest of his crew, who were all either slowly nodding their head in agreement or looking away to avoid the wrath Kels had been dishing out the last few weeks, before he sighed loudly and took a step back to sit down on the closest chair. His eyes drifted outside to the scenery racing past and he caught a glimpse of a road sign that had a city he knew was near your hometown on it.

“Yo, pull over.” He said as he got up and headed toward the front of the bus. “Pull over!”

“We’re on the interstate…” The driver tried as he gestured to the road while Kels quickly pulled on his sneakers and grabbed his phone.

“Pull the fuck over!”

“Just take this exit.” Slim said, calmly as he pulled Kels back away from the door. “We’re going, OK?”

“What about Atlanta?!” His manager, Ashleigh, shouted as she finally looked up from the email she had been reading.

“Cancel it.” Kels said simply as he pushed down the seat above the stairs and sat down to wait impatiently. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly googled the first and frankly, the only place he’d know where to find you. “Take 85 east. That way.” With a slightly hesitant nod of his head, the driver followed the artists direction as the guys and girls in the back of the bus simply sat down and shut up for the first time in a long time.

Part 3

[underoossss]

Dancing Under the Rain - H.O

CHAPTER 1 [prologue]

pairing: detective!Harrison x female reader

warning: some angst but the fluff makes up for it, mentions of death

AN: this takes place a little bit after the prologue, I hope you guys like it. I would love some feedback

--- 

The cool, salty breeze surrounds you and takes all of your worries to the sea. They float over the water and go beyond the horizon until you can’t see them anymore. That’s what your grandma used to say, anyways. She used to live in Maine and you visited her every summer with your brother. She took both of you to the beach every morning to watch your grandpa’s boat in the distance as he returned from fishing lobsters. Grandma is gone now, so is grandpa. Your mom had said it was the heartbreak because of your brother’s death; she had moved to Maine shortly after that. She left you alone in Cambridge to finish university and then move on to grad school, because that’s what parents with money do. They think money solves everything and anything. That’s why you loved your grandma, she thought the sea and the breeze solved things. They don’t. They haven’t yet, so jury’s still out.

You squint your eyes at the sun and take a deep breath, then a gentle squeeze on your hand brings you back to the present. “This reminds me of my grandparents.” You smile at the sea before looking to your right and meeting Harrison’s gaze.

The detective looks so different than how he did eight month before. His shoulders don’t look so tense, his face is relaxed and there’s an easy smile on his lips. He looks content just by standing there staring at the ocean with a cream colored sweater and jeans; a stark contrast to his usual button downs and suit jackets. You like seeing him like this, projecting his soft character out to the world, something he’d only done some mornings when talking to you at the bookshop.

---

The bell on top of the main door rings as someone steps into the bookshop. It isn’t normal for you to close the door, but it was a chilly October morning and there’s nothing worse than your coffee growing cold right after it’s served. You look up from the book you had been reading behind the counter and smile when you noticed Harrison was sitting down by the window.  The smile only lasts for a few seconds though and soon changes into a frown when you notice his demeanor. You can practically see the stress coming from him and that is enough for you to move towards the expresso machine and start making his usual coffee. A latte with no sugar but some cinnamon on top, unlike the rest of the officers who routinely ordered americanos. ‘Too bitter,’ Harrison had said when you pointed it out once.

The coffee is ready a few minutes later and you make your way to his table also carrying a plate with a ham and cheese flatbread you had toasted for him. He’s resting his elbows on the table when you reach him, his hands are in his hair and his eyes are closed. “Good morning.” You say, placing the plate and mug in front of him.

You take a sit across from him, there weren’t many customers in the shop and everyone already had their order. Besides, Harrison looked like he needed to talk to someone.

“You look stressed.” You tilt your head to your right, frowning slightly at the dark circles under his eyes. “And like you haven’t eaten in two days.” Your eyes move down to the flatbread in front of him, a silent way of saying ‘eat.’

“You shouldn’t have bothered.” Harrison finally speaks up, getting rid of his initial shock of you probably reading his mind and getting his order for him without asking first.

“I won’t hear any of it. Go on, the best detective in town needs food to think.”

Harrison opens and closes his mouth, pausing for a second to debate what he’s going to say next but settles with shaking his head. “Is it really that bad?”

“You want me to be honest?” You lean your chin on the palm of your hand and smile when Harrison nods. He picks up the sandwich and takes a bite, it gives a satisfying crunch and the detective sighs at the taste.

“You look like you could use a whole week of sleep and a month of yoga for how stressed you look, detective.” A chuckle leaves your lips when he rolls his eyes.

“Please, YN, call me Harrison.” Harrison shakes his head, covering his mouth with his hand as he chews. After a few seconds he swallows and wipes his mouth with the napkin next to his plate. He leans forward and lowers his voice to speak again. “We haven’t gotten any new leads in a while, and the evidence so far is only circumstantial. It’s taken a toll on all of us.”

You nod your head in understanding before voicing your worries to him. “It’s good that you’re taking a break then. You can’t let the case drain you Harrison, it won’t do you or anyone any good.”

“I just need to solve this case, Y/N, that family is depending on us, on me to get answers. I can’t imagine their despair, and how much worse it would be if whoever did it gets away with it.” He shakes his head, putting the sandwich down again and picking up his coffee.

Your breath catches in your throat for a second. The worst case scenario he is trying to prevent is something you had already lived. Seeing it now from an outside perspective, having first-hand experience of that unbearable pain, you understand Harrison’s urgency to bring this family some peace of mind. You constantly wish you knew who did that to your brother and you don’t wish that pain upon anyone. Well, anyone except for the person who did it. That bastard’s the only one who deserves it.

Harrison sighs at the delicious coffee smell, his shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit and his features softening. He takes another sip of the coffee before speaking again, “This is really good. As always.” He smiles slightly, though his eyes still look a bit lost when they meet yours. His smile is enough to push the bitter thought to the back of your mind.

“I wish more people in the world could be like you.” You smile, shaking your head a bit. Your heart bursts with fondness towards the detective in front of you. You’re in awe of his selflessness when it comes to helping others, his determination and his strength. A lot of people might have given up at this point so it is reassuring to know how resilient Harrison is when it comes to this case. To know there are people who care enough to pull all nighters so they can try to help others. If only they had assigned your brother’s case a detective like that.

Harrisons eyebrows furrow at your words so you decide to elaborate. “Someone who genuinely cares about others’ wellbeing. I can tell how much this case means to you.”

He nods his head and for a brief moment, his face sheds the mask he wears all day long as a detective. It softens and his smile is more genuine than it had ever been, though it looks a bit broken like there’s something else stressing him out than just this case. “Thank you, for everything Y/N. Although, you’re giving me too much credit. You care about others’ wellbeing too. This is being an example.” He gestures towards his now empty plate and half drank coffee cup.

‘Are you feeling better?” You ask, resting your chin on your palm. Your ears feel like they’re on fire at his compliment. I care about you.

The detective nods his head. “Much better, and not only because of the food.”

You laugh softly, looking down. Gosh you really like him. “I’m glad.”

----

“It does?” He tilts his head to the right, a subtle invitation to elaborate if you wished to do so.

“Mhm, they lived in Maine. My grandfather had a lobster fishing business and my grandma did all the selling for him.” You move your gaze back to the ocean. “My brother and I used to wait with my grandma at the beach for him to come back every morning.”

“Was this in the summer?” Harrison asks, his voice is soft. It’s as if he doesn’t want to disturb the memory you’re replaying in your mind. You nod your head and he squeezes your hand again. “It must have been nice.”

“It was.” You nod your head again and smile at him. It’s one of the memories that brings you joy, which is unusual considering all memories you brother in it make your heart ache. “This is a good look on you, you know.”

Harrison chuckles, looking down at his clothes. “Don’t miss my suit and tie?”

“I don’t mean the clothes specifically.” You shake your head at him. “It’s not very often I see you this relaxed. I like it.”

The detective takes a deep breath and basks in the sun for a few seconds before meeting your gaze once more. “There’s no case urging me to solve it at the moment, that’s probably why.”

“Even if you had a case to solve right now, you deserve little breaks you know.” You tug at his hand and continue walking along the shore. Your shoes are on your right hand and your feet are cold as they leave their prints on the sand, it’s lovely.

“Not working… it leaves you alone with your thoughts.” Harrison’s voice is quiet again, like he doesn’t want you to hear it. But you do and you understand what he means. “I don’t like that.”

“I get that.” You say looking down at the sand. “I used to be afraid of having any free time because that meant I had time to think about things I’d rather pretend didn’t happen.”

Neither of you speak for a minute or so before you take a deep breath and look at Harrison. He was already looking at you which brings you face to face with worried blue eyes. “That time you asked me questions for the case and I told you there was a death in my family and that’s why I moved here… It was my brother. Bryan.”

Harrison opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head. You trust him and for some reason you think he’s the only person in this whole town that you can talk to. Really talk to. If this thing between the two of you is going somewhere, he needs to know, so he can choose if he wants to back out while he can. “Someone killed him, they found him at the soccer field after practice. They, umm, they never caught the person who did it and closed the case. My family was known among a lot of people so everyone found out. I fled and came here the moment I finished grad school. Fresh start.” You feel Harrison’s hand slip out of yours and before your heart can despair he puts his arm around your shoulders and brings you closer to his side. “So, I know what it’s like to be alone with your thoughts. I used to be afraid of falling back into grieving my brother but things like this bring you joy and eventually make all sad thoughts go away.”

The breeze.

It might not solve things like your grandma said but it helps.

You hear Harrison take a deep breath and you look up at him again to see worry in his eyes. “I’m alright though, I think I’m getting better at handling it. But not knowing… it doesn’t help with the pain. I think that’s why my mom left Cambridge too, to avoid the uncertainty coming from everywhere she looked.” You shrug your shoulders and let out a long breath, feeling a heavy weight lift from your chest. Not all of the pent up pain, but still enough to let you breathe more easily than before. It is only then when you realize how much you needed to talk to someone about it, needed someone to know. Someone finally knows I’m not all smiles as the town believes.

You realize Harrison’s been quiet for a while, so you look up at him again to try to reassure him. There’s a tightness around in his eyes and his jaw is clenched while he looks at the ground. “Hey, don’t be so worried I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s have a seat over here.” He says quietly, and clearing his throat. He avoids your eyes and looks at the sea instead, his hair is being pushed back by the wind and his eyes still squinted at the sun. It almost looks like he’s in pain. You nod, feeling anxious at his change of demeanor all of a sudden but settle down on the sand anyways, tugging on his hand so he can sit too.

Harrison sighs, letting go of your hand as he starts fiddling with his fingers instead. He opens his mouth as if to say something but he stops himself before he can speak. This happens three times before you get so worried you have to say something. “Harrison please say something, it’s me you’re worrying now.”

He nods, still not looking at you and clearing his throat again. “About 3 years ago I was an assistant DI for a case, a woman had been murdered and it was one mess of a case. Our leads were dead ends and after a year the detective in charge of the case closed it. He didn’t keep trying to solve it and left this family with unimaginable grief in their hearts. I felt so disappointed in our team, my worst fear had come true, I wasn’t enough and let people down. We failed them and a killer stayed on the loose. I begged our superiors to let me finish working the case but it didn’t work.”

He swallows loudly, like it it’s hard to do so. The way it is when you’ve got a knot in your throat that hurts whenever you speak.  “The look on their face still haunts me. They were so disappointed, they cried and asked us over and over again to open the case. I work so hard on cases now because I want to be a better detective than I was three years ago. I want to prove myself that I’m not the poor excuse of a detective I think I am… and yet it took me eight months to solve this case.”

“But you solved it.” You speak up, not wanting to hear him talk himself down like this anymore. You’re shaking your head, you know firsthand how much having a case closed and not getting the answers you need can hurt. But it wasn’t Harrison that closed it, he tried to get it open again, and solve it for that family. The fact that he tried shows the kind of person he is, what an honorable detective he’s always been even before you knew him.

“I almost didn’t… I’m what has caused you so much pain, Y/N. A pathetic detective that get cases solved by sheer luck. One that didn’t solve that murder case and couldn’t give that family any answers.”

“It’s not luck! I’ve seen you work, I’ve even been interrogated by you and your team so I know firsthand your thought process and your quick way of thinking, your perseverance and your kindness. All of that combined makes you better than any other detective in all of England. You haven’t caused me any pain, you know who did? The person that killed my brother and broke my family. It wasn’t you!”

You both stay silent for a minute, your eyebrows furrowed in anger and pain. It hurt you to know that this is how Harrison thinks of himself, when he is nothing other than wonderful. We all have insecurities, but the proof of his abilities is right in front of his eyes yet he fails to see how many people he helps. Then there’s the fact that he thinks you’d change your opinion of him because he couldn’t solve a case years ago because his superiors closed it and somehow blames himself for your pain ever since your brother died.

“Is this your way of saying that this won’t happen?” You gesture between you two, your hand cold now that Harrison isn’t holding it. “Because I want it to happen, I want to give us a shot. I’ve denied myself from being happy for so long and when I’m with you I feel all the happiness I thought I’d never feel again.” Your eyes stay staring at the horizon, your heart is hurting and you’re willing the pain to leave with the breeze. Go to the ocean, leave me alone.

“I want it to happen too.” Harrison speaks up, you see him shake his head from the corner of your eye. “I fell for you months ago and I’ve wanted to hold your hand ever since. I just… You can do so much better.”

You turn your body to face him, your eyebrows still furrowed and all your emotions probably showing in your eyes. “Don’t put me in a pedestal, Harrison.” Your hands reach for his face, letting his eyes linger on yours. “I’m far from perfect and so are you but we can’t let the past keep haunting us. I know problems don’t just fly away, but I think we’re both done with facing them alone.”

Harrison closes his eyes, his face falling as your words sink in. He’s so lonely, he’s terrified of not being alone anymore. If only he knew I’m just as scared. You feel tears come to your eyes, why are the kindest and most selfless people the ones who get hurt the most? You press your forehead against his and take a deep breath to keep yourself from crying. It’s quiet again, except for the crashing of the waves and the eventual cries of some seagulls. The sun shines brightly above the two of you, you can feel the heat on your skin and the salty breezy surrounds the two of you again. It’s trying to take all this sadness away and leave us with the happiness and love I feel for you instead, you think to yourself.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Harrison speaks up, his voice is quiet between the two of you. His hand comes up to you cheek as he moves away to look into your eyes. “I want to be with you, I really want this.”

You give him a watery smile, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “Me too.”

“You have no idea how happy I am when I am with you.” His thumb caresses your cheek as he returns your smile. “One smile and I’m a goner.”

You chuckle at his words, your cheeks are burning but you can’t look away from his eyes. “I can say the same thing about your eyes. I also really like it when you come to the bookshop.”

“Well, I always want to see you.” Harrison says softly, his forehead comes back to rest against yours. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“Like another date?” You ask and then smile when he nods his head. “I’d love to.”

“Well then.” He says standing up, holding his hand out to you and helping you get up. “How does Mrs. Pacelli’s sound?”

You twine your fingers and swing your hands back and forth as you walk west, back to town. Your stomach grumbles in agreement and you smile at the thought of Mrs. Pacelli’s homemade lasagna right away. “It sounds amazing, her place is actually my favorite restaurant in town.”

Harrison chuckles and nods, “It is really great but my favorite place is further down the street.” He brings your hand to his lips for brief second before smiling down at you. “It’s a lovely bookshop with the best coffee.”

“Not a restaurant, though.” You smile back, heart beating wildly in your chest. The blue of Harrison’s eyes is even lovelier now that some of his worry was left behind at that spot in the sand; you can’t help but stare.

“You’re right, it’s not. But it is my favorite place, almost as beautiful as the owner.” Harrison shrugs as if he didn’t just flirt with you for the first time since you’ve known each other.

You push some hair behind your ear and lean your head on his shoulder, not used to what you’re feeling. Not after so long at least. Neither of you are perfect and you never will be, you’ve been shaped by your past and it’s left a scar in both of your hearts. Not letting it control your future though, that’s what makes all the difference. You had given up on love and happiness for years, but as your stomach buzzes with excitement and you feel those emotions again you can’t help but be glad that you took the chance. Uncertainty is usually scary, and you know more than anyone how much helplessness it can bring. This time however, something tells you that things will start to look up and even if you don’t know where this will lead, you’re not scared anymore.

Maybe the breeze does solve some things after all grandma

--- 

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[ft-dads-au]

I’m Gonna Stand By You

I Take Pride In What I Am 2020 Prompt: Brave Pairing(s): Silver & Gray, Rogue & Gray, Silver x Mika

A Collaboration by @mdelpin​​ and @oryu404​​ AO3 | FF.Net

Summary: Gray didn't plan on coming out at his grandfather's 59th birthday dinner, but he couldn't take even one more of his grandfather's hateful opinions. Worried at how his family will react he hides away only to learn that he is not alone.

Gray age 15, Rogue age 12

June 1, 2006

The atmosphere had always been different whenever Gray’s grandparents were around. Tense and uncomfortable, and Gray knew that it had everything to do with his grandfather. It was a shame, really. His grandmother was actually quite nice, but he hadn’t looked forward to seeing her in a long time, and it was safe to say that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Argent Fullbuster was an intimidating man. He was strict and harsh in his opinions, which he never kept to himself. On the contrary, he’d belt them out to anyone who would and wouldn’t listen, never being subtle when he voiced his criticism.

And he criticized a lot.

Few things seemed to be up to his standards. Even when he’d give his praise, he’d always find a flaw, and he never hesitated to point it out.

He’d commented on one of Gray’s passes when he’d come to watch one of his hockey games, even though they’d played an amazing game and won. He’d told Rogue he could’ve gotten a higher grade for his essay if he’d tried harder, even though he’d scored the highest grade in his class. Their parents were never spared either.

No one ever spoke too much about it, but now that Gray was a little older, he was more aware of how his parents’ behavior would change, starting well before a visit.

His mother would fret about cleaning the house, what to prepare for dinner, or making sure Gray and Rogue looked presentable. His father would become distant or get moody, burning through his cigarettes in no time.

Gildarts made sure not to be around, and Gray guessed that was a good thing. He couldn’t imagine the man keeping his mouth shut the way his parents did when Argent would go off about whatever displeased him. Cana had downright said she didn’t like him and would stay with her own grandparents whenever she got the chance.

Gray could see the extra effort his mother would always put in to please Argent, but it never seemed to make any difference. He and Rogue would too, they’d speak more politely and mind their manners. But Gray was getting sick of conforming to his grandfather’s impossible standards.

He was 15 years old. He didn’t want to be told what to do, what to say, or how to act anymore. And he certainly didn’t want to waste his energy on someone who would never accept him as he was anyway.

Gray had suspected that he wasn’t straight for a while now. He received plenty of attention from girls, something he didn’t always enjoy but certainly wouldn’t complain about either. Still, he couldn’t deny he was attracted to guys too. It took him some time to figure it out. At first, he’d mistaken it for admiration or maybe even jealousy, until he realized that he didn’t want to be that guy.

He wanted to be with that guy.

Grandpa Fullbuster, of course, had a very outspoken opinion about faggots, as he called them.

He’d use the slur whenever he saw fit. Watching a sports game and the ref made a call he didn’t agree with? Faggot. Someone cut him off on the road? Faggot. A man acting or presenting in any way that didn’t match his definition of manly? Definitely a Faggot.

Gray had so hoped that the subject wouldn’t come up today when his parents had invited his grandparents for dinner to celebrate Argent’s 59th birthday. He was already having trouble dealing with the usual scrutiny his grandfather was delivering, struggling to keep his expression neutral and his mouth shut. But then, right after dinner, when they were sitting in front of the tv, there was an item about the annual pride event on the news.

“Pah! What’s there to celebrate? All these faggots do is make themselves look like fools!” Argent boomed. He took a sip of his scotch, then raised his glass at the tv as if he was addressing the people on the screen directly, “You’re all going to hell, you can be proud of that!”

The awkwardness that followed was smothering, and Gray looked at his family members curiously to see their responses. His grandmother fiddled with the purse on her lap. His mom was putting the dishes in the dishwasher, not giving the matter any attention whatsoever. Rogue was reading a book, only glancing away from the pages for a second before ignoring the situation again. His dad was just staring at the tv with a blank expression like he’d do so many times when Argent went off about something.

No one said or did anything. And although it was nothing new, today it was the last straw for Gray. He got off the couch abruptly and stormed out of the room before he could say something stupid.

“Where are you going?” Rogue asked, following his movements.

“To hell, I guess.”

Like that.

Gray could hear a plate shattering on the floor and a commotion rising, but he didn’t stop to listen. He slammed the door of his bedroom shut and flopped down on his bed, putting in a pair of earphones and raising the volume of his mp3 player as high as it could go in a bid to drown out the sound of his grandfather’s yelling.

Whatever he had to say, Gray didn’t want to hear it anymore.

When his dad came into the room a few songs later, he was still laying in pretty much the same position, music blasting into his ear as he tried to calm his angry thoughts. Gray paused the song, ready to face a scolding for disrupting the peace, or a demand for an apology which he was unwilling to give.

Gray certainly didn’t expect his dad to sit down next to him on the bed and burst out laughing. That’s it, he thought, all the research he was continually doing for his work must have gone to his old man’s head. Either that, or he was going senile at a very young age.

“What’s so funny?” Gray huffed.

“I just can’t believe that out of the very few people I have ever seen brave enough to defy my father like that, one of them is my teenage son!” his dad chuckled, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Man, I haven’t seen him that pissed since the time I told him I was dating a guy…”

“What?” Gray’s eyes widened in surprise, and he sat up, “What do you mean?”

His dad regained his composure and turned more serious, but the smile never faltered. “I’m sorry, kid. If I’d realized, I would have told you this sooner,” he apologized, “Maybe then you would’ve had someone to talk to and known you’re not alone.”

“I’m bisexual,” Silver admitted, and suddenly his behavior around Argent made even more sense to Gray than it already had.

“Wow, that sucks,” Gray blurted out, still stunned by his father’s revelation. “Not the bisexual part, I’m pretty sure I am too, but…you’ve had to deal with that asshole’s bullshit for all those years?”

“Yep,” Silver laughed, but Gray wasn’t fooled. He could sense something painful his dad was trying hard not to let show, and Gray hated to think about what it would’ve been like for him, growing up with a father like Argent.

“It does suck, but I’m used to it. At this point, I just try to ignore it. You know how he is, he won’t change his mind, and nothing we do is ever good enough for him anyway.”

“Right,” Gray rolled his eyes,” Is he gone already?”

“Yeah, he tried to yell at me for my less than adequate parenting skills, but I told him I had something more important to do.”

“But wouldn’t that mean that his parenting skills were also inadequate?” Gray pointed out.

”Good luck getting him to admit to anything like that,” Silver shrugged in resignation, “Anyway, your grandmother was able to convince him to take her home before he lost it.”

Gray had to admit he was surprised to hear his father had stood up for him against his grandfather, he’d never expected it given how his father seemed to be off in his own world whenever Argent was around.

“He was furious, though, won’t that make trouble for you guys?”

“Let me and your mother worry about that,” Silver said reassuringly as he pulled Gray into a tight hug. “Honestly, at this point in my life, I could care less about his opinion.”

“You’re my son, and I’m proud of you for being brave enough to stand up for what you believe in.” He kissed the top of Gray’s head, patting his shoulder before letting go.” I know it’s not easy to do.”

Gray still couldn’t get over how everything had gone down. Just a few weeks ago, he’d been trying to figure out whether to tell his parents at all, not sure how they would react to his news. He’d never expected it to go this smoothly, and he certainly never expected to learn his father was the same.

“When did you know you were, you know?” Gray wasn’t sure if he was overstepping boundaries, but he’d never met anyone else who felt the same way he did, and he had so many questions.

“Bisexual,” Silver enunciated as Gray gawked at him with wide eyes, “It’s okay to say it, it’s not a dirty word, and it’s not something I ever want you to feel bad about, okay? I was never able to be proud of who I was when I was growing up, I always felt like I had to hide it. The last thing I want is for you to experience that.”

He scratched his head, “As for your question, I think I always knew, I just wasn’t really at liberty to say or do much about it. Things are a little better now,” he smiled in encouragement.

“What about you?”

Gray gave a half shrug, suddenly feeling shy after all his earlier bravado.

“It’s okay,” Silver ruffled his hair, “I know you’re not much of a talker, you don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to. There are some things I won’t be able to share with you either.”

“What’s it like to date a guy?” Gray asked eagerly.

His father peered at him, the corner of his eyes crinkling, before giving him his answer, “Well, the first time can be kind of nerve-wracking, like most firsts usually are, but ultimately it all depends on how you feel about each other. If you find someone you really love, the rest just becomes less relevant. It’s the same for dating women.”

For a moment it seemed like his father had once gone again off to whatever world he escaped to whenever his grandfather was around, but just when Gray was about to say something, his father turned to him with a teasing grin.

“So what about you? Have you dated anyone? I remember what it was like to be on a sports team, I doubt things have changed that much.”

“Not exactly,” Gray muttered, not really wanting to get into the few hookups he’d had when he was trying to figure stuff out.

“Is Mom not coming in?” he looked to the door, wanting to change the subject but also finding her absence decidedly strange.

When Gray glanced back at his father he thought he caught the barest traces of sadness on his face, but it was quickly replaced by a blank expression, making him wonder if he’d just been imagining it.

“I wouldn’t read too much into it. Your brother got a little spooked with the yelling,” Silver explained, “She’s making sure he’s okay.”

Gray nodded his understanding, but remembering the clatter of the plate breaking as he stormed out of the room, he couldn’t help but worry that maybe there might be more to it than that.

“Hey,” Silver was quick to reassure him, “unlike my father, your mother will always love you no matter what. Remember that.”

“Okay.”

“I know you probably have a lot more questions, but there are some things I want to talk about first.”

Gray slipped him a curious glance, unsure of what his father wanted to talk about, but he settled down to listen.

“I want you to be careful. Things have gotten better over time, people are more accepting, but unfortunately, there are still plenty of them who aren’t. Don’t engage them, you never know what they’re capable of.”

“And speaking of being careful, that applies to sex as well. Always use protection, whether you’re with a man or a woman, because-”

“Yes, dad, I get it!” Gray interrupted. He’d had the talk with his dad already and had no intention of repeating the experience.

“Alright, alright,” he glanced at Gray with a mischievous grin, “Wanna really piss off your grandfather?”

“What did you have in mind?” Gray couldn’t help but smile at seeing the excitement on his father’s face.

“Well, the Pride parade in Crocus is on Saturday, wanna go?” Silver twisted his wedding ring as he waited for an answer. “I always wanted to go to one.”

“Sure,” Gray replied, feeling closer to his dad than he had in a long time and wanting to experience his first parade with him, “I’d love to go.”

“Maybe we can all go!” Silver exclaimed eagerly, “Come on, let’s go find your mom.” He hurried out of the room, and Gray chased after him, caught up in his excitement.

When they reached the living room, they were greeted by the sight of Mika talking to Rogue quietly. There was something about it that made Gray feel uneasy, but his dad didn’t seem to notice.

“We’re all going to attend the pride parade in Crocus this Saturday,” Silver announced with a smile.

“Crocus? That’s quite a ways away,” Mika reasoned, “Don’t you think we should discuss it first?”

“What’s there to discuss?” Silver asked, stiffening at the apparent lack of enthusiasm coming from his wife.

“Silver, I get that this is exciting for you, but this is about Gray, not you.”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not having this discussion here,” Mika countered, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Fine!”

Silver yanked the sliding door that led out to their deck open, storming outside. Mika turned to look at Gray and Rogue, flashing them a half-smile, “Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

She followed her husband outside, gently closing the door behind her.

Gray’s eyes were fixed on his parents, and although he couldn’t hear their words, his father was obviously upset. He watched as his mother tried to put a hand on his father’s shoulder only to have him shrug it away and step back. He didn’t really understand what the fight was about, but it seemed much too hostile to just be about whether they were going to attend an event or not. And he couldn’t help but feel that it was his fault that they were fighting.

“Do you want to play a video game?” Rogue asked, getting up and turning away from the sliding door, drawing him away from the guilt that was gnawing away at him.

“Yeah, sure, it’s not like we’re doing much good up here,” Gray agreed, giving one last look at the arguing couple before following his brother downstairs to the entertainment room that their dad and Gildarts had set up in the basement.

“Which one do you want to play?” he asked as he turned on the tv and the game console, searching through the games they owned.

“Co-op fighter?” Rogue suggested with a small smile, “We can pretend to kick grandpa’s ass.”

“If only,” Gray snorted and inserted the game, grabbing a controller for each of them. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from his brother but was glad to find that he didn’t seem to be making a big deal out of the situation.

“I’m sorry for causing a scene, heard the old bastard freaked you out a little,” he apologized as he picked his fighter, waiting for Rogue to choose his.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Rogue shrugged, “He was the one who made the scene. It’s so stupid, we always have to behave around him, but he’s the one who can’t act like a decent human being. You should’ve seen him, he went rabid.”

“I seriously don’t understand how Dad came from that man,” Gray grumbled, “they are so different.”

“Yeah, I feel bad for him sometimes, I guess that’s why he always acts like he’s off somewhere else while they’re here,” Rogue noted, “And poor mom is stuck serving Grandpa while he sits there saying shit about dad.”

Hearing his brother mention their mom reminded Gray that he still had no idea how she had reacted to his announcement.

“Hey uh, what did mom say after I left?” he asked hesitantly. His worries regarding her opinion still bugged him. The response she’d given when his dad mentioned the plan for Saturday, and the fact that his parents were having a fight over it had only worsened them.

“Not much, just that it was going to be okay and that I should come to you and dad with my questions.”

“Oh,” Gray looked down at his controller, trying not to feel disheartened by that. He guessed it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t what he was hoping to hear either.

“She isn’t disappointed in you or anything,” Rogue added quickly, “I think she was just overwhelmed. There was a lot of yelling.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Gray forced himself to smile at his little brother, not wanting to stress him out any further. He gestured toward the screen, “You ready to go?”

“So are you gay?” Rogue asked, still scrolling through the different character options to pick his fighter.

“Ish? I like both, so that makes me bisexual,” Gray spoke the word confidently like his dad had told him to, remembering their conversation.

It was the first time he’d used it to refer to himself, and though he’d thought it would make him nervous - like there was no turning back from it anymore- he just felt right. It wasn’t any different than saying he played hockey. It was only another part of who he was, and his dad was right, he should be proud of it. No matter what others might have to say.

“That’s cool,” Rogue replied much in the same way he said anything, finally settling on a character. “All set.”

Gray snorted at his response, wondering what else he could have possibly expected from his brother. “Let’s do this.”

They played for a while, waiting for their parents to call them back upstairs, but when it didn’t happen, Gray forced himself to focus on the game. Trying to beat the waves of enemies helped him distance himself from what was going on.

“Hey, Gray?” Rogue spoke up in the middle of a boss fight, “Do you think they have video games in hell?”

Gray peered at him curiously, wondering where that had come from. “No idea, why?”

“Just wanna know because you suck so much I’m afraid we might not finish this game before we get there.”

Gray gawked at him for a moment before collapsing into a fit of giggles, “Man, I sure hope mom and dad weren’t counting on too many grandchildren.”

“What are you doing?! You got us both killed!” Rogue protested with such outrage that it only made Gray laugh even harder.

Gray’s expression softened as he studied his brother. “Guess we’ll just have to finish it in hell then.”

“I’d rather finish it now, just in case the rumors of blazing infernos are true, thank you,” Rogue rolled his eyes, setting up the game for another try. “And just so you know, you’re on grandkid duty. You like both, so you still have a chance of making it happen.”

“No promises,” Gray smirked, he did like girls, but he seemed to be more interested in boys at the moment.

“True,” Rogue said matter-of-factly, “Who’d want to date you?”

“You’re alright, kid,” Gray declared with a lingering chuckle, ruffling Rogue’s hair in the way his brother absolutely hated.

“And you’re annoying,” Rogue pouted, “but you’re also pretty badass for giving gramps the big fuck you.”

“That did feel good,” Gray confessed, getting up to grab a soda from the mini-fridge and tossing one to his brother.

Gray felt relief knowing that his father and brother both supported him. As for his mother, he decided to trust that she would love him no matter what, just as his father had said. There wasn’t much else he could do until he had a chance to talk to her.

He wondered what the outcome of their parents’ fight would be, hoping that they would still be allowed to go to the parade. It seemed important to his dad, even if he had framed it as a way to piss off Argent, and Gray wanted to offer him the same support he’d been given. It was easy to see there was a story there, and he hoped that someday his father would trust him with it.

As for the game, they never did end up finishing it, too wound up by everything that had happened to stay focused, but Gray felt closer to Rogue than ever. He made himself a promise that he would always have his back, and if anyone ever had the balls to give his little brother a hard time for who he was, Gray would give them hell.

[zerolympiustrife]

Jaune Arc Future Family AU, but with the children bonding with their grandparents/aunts/uncles (such as Taiyang, Winter, Kali, Ghira, Raven, Jaune’s sisters, etc.)

Hoo boy, this is gonna be a long one!

A very, very, VERY, long one.

————————————————————

Anonymous asks: Jaune Arc’s Future Family AU Spin-off series: Extended Family Edition!

Also, for this particular AU, I’m gonna bring Summer Rose and Roman Torchwick back from the dead. Why? Because I brought Pyrrha back from the dead in my previous miniseries for the sake of giving her an Arkos Future Family AU.

————————————————————

~~~>Lancaster

Summer (holding Lily): Does Lily love granny?

Lily (smiling): I love granny!

Summer (hugging her): And granny loves you~!

*Lily giggles*

Tai: Does Lily love grandpa?

Lily (turns to him): I love grandpa!

Tai (hugging her): And I love you too, Lily.

Qrow: Does Lily love grandpa’s half bro?

Lily (running up to him): I love mommy’s uncle Qrow! *Hugs his leg*

*Qrow chuckles, pats Lily on the head, and Jaune, Yang, and Ruby are watching this scene from a distance*

Yang: Y’know, vomit boy, I’ve had my doubts about you at first, but I’ve never been more happier to be proven wrong. Welcome to the family! *Grabs Jaune and ruffles his hair*

Jaune (struggling): Agh! Yang! Don’t call me that!

Yang (lets go of him): You’re right. I’m sorry, vomit man. *Snickers*

*Jaune glares at her, but Ruby grabs his arm, pulls him towards her and peck him on the cheek*

Ruby (blushing): I love you, my knight.

Jaune (blushing): And I love you, my rose.

Summer: Is there anything else you love, Lily?

Lily (loud and proud): I love cookies and milk! I love red roses and fancy weapons! I love mommy and daddy and my awesome auntie Yang!

*Yang, hearing this, smiles and blushes*

Lily (smiling): I love grandma and grandpa and my mommy’s uncle Qrow! I love my whole family!

Tai (chuckling): What about grandma Raven?

Lily (still smiling): Nope!

*Ruby’s eyes widened, Jaune spits out his drink, and Yang covers her mouth to muffle her laughter*

Summer (shocked): W-What do you not like about grandma Raven?

Lily (pouting): She never shows up for any family events! Last week, she promised me that she’d be here, but she never came! I hate her!

*Tai and Qrow’s eyes widened*

Ruby (walking over to her): Hey, hey, hey! Maybe the reason why she isn’t here is because she’s super busy right now. But I’ll tell you what: Next time I see her, I’ll make her keep her promise to hang out with you one day. I’ll even go as far to have me and daddy drag her over here. And I won’t take no for an answer.

Lily (hugging her): You will? Thank you, mommy! Can I have a cookie?

Ruby (carrying her): You’re welcome and of course you can! Actually…I think it’d be better if you tried granny’s cookies. They’re out of this world!

Lily (gasping): G-Granny?

Summer (giggling): Of course, sweetie.

Lily (smiling): Yay! I love you, granny!

*Everyone laughs, but little does everybody know, Raven is hiding behind a door, contemplating on her granddaughter hating her*

Raven (frowning): …Hearing that hurts me more than anything. N-Not that I care or anything… *Starts to shed a tear*

————————————————————

~~~>White Knight

Frost (yelling): Uncle Whitley! Aunt Winter! Butler Klein!

*The two Schnee siblings and Klein stand at attention*

Whitley/Winter/Klein: Yes, my niece/lady Frost?

*Frost walks over to Whitley*

Frost: Uncle Whitley, I’ve heard you were attempting to pull a hurtful prank upon mother. Is that true?

Whitley: N-No.

Frost (angrily): Oh, is that so? Because I heard from my servants that you placed a cold, hard, steel bucket over an open door that would’ve given mother a concussion!

Whitley (internally): …Oops.

Frost (glaring at him): Is this how you repay her after she and father saved your life from a group of bandits the other day?!?

*Winter and Klein’s eyes widened, gasp, and turn to Whitley with a glare*

Klein (eyes turn red): Whitley! Is this true?!?

Whitley (muttering): Yes, it’s true.

Frost (angrily): Speak up!

Whitley: Yes, it’s true!

Frost (points to the ground): On your knees, uncle!

*Whitley groans and obliges, as Frost takes a glove and slaps him across the face with it*

Frost: We do not repay kindness to our loved ones by pulling hurtful pranks! Do I make myself clear, uncle?!?

Whitley (rubbing his cheek): Y-Yes, my niece.

Frost (crossing her arms): Good! You are dismissed.

*Whitley walks away, and Frost walks in front of Winter*

Frost (calming down): Aunt Winter! It appears you have, what my father calls, a “secret admirer”!

*Winter’s eyes widened, and her face turns slightly red*

Winter (blushing): W-What makes you say that, my niece?

*Frost snaps her fingers, and a couple of servants brings her a bottle of alcohol with a heart-shaped card*

Winter (internally): Goddamnit…this isn’t a good time, Qrow…!

Frost (reading the card): “Roses are my niece, violets are your sis, one night with me, and you’ll get more than just a kiss”?

Klein (eyes turn pink): Oh my~! *Starts fanning himself*

Winter (holding her face in embarrassment): Oooohhhh noooooo! *Falls down to her knees*

Frost (surprised): Hm! I wasn’t even going to demand you to get on your knees. Is everything alright, aunt Winter? Should I get mother and father to solve this issue?

Winter (puts her hands down): Th-Thanks for the concern, Frost, but…this is more of a personal matter. I appreciate the offer, but I can handle this.

Frost (crossing her arms): Hm, very well. You are dismissed.

*Winter leaves, and Frost walks in front of Klein*

Klein (eyes turn yellow): What can I do for you, lady Frost?

Frost: Butler Klein, kneel. *Points to the ground*

*Klein obliges, then Frost starts patting him on the head*

Klein (surprised): W-What is this for, lady Frost?

Frost (smiling): For being the most wonderful butler my mother’s ever had. For that, I wish to repay you in kindness by doing what my father would do to me. *Continues to pat his head* I thank you dearly.

Klein (eyes turn pink): Oh, i-it’s nothing, my lady! All in a day’s work, as they say!

Frost (stops patting): You are dismissed.

Klein (eyes turn yellow): Thank you, lady Frost! *Leaves*

*Weiss and Jaune watch this from a distance*

Jaune (chuckling): Heh. That Frost… 

Weiss (blushing): I can’t help but feel a little embarrassed by our daughter acting like a queen.

Jaune (pecks her on the cheek): Shouldn’t that be you?

Weiss (blushing more): D-Don’t do that all of a sudden!

*Jaune giggles, then feels something hit his leg*

Frost (hugging his leg): Father! Do I make a good ruler?

Jaune (picking her up): You make a wonderful queen. Moreso than your mother.

Weiss (offended): H-Hey!

Frost (confused): Mother? Is this true?

*Weiss starts making angry tsundere noises, while Jaune giggles and Frost still looks confused*

————————————————————

~~~>Knightshade

Kali (squealing): Kyah~! She’s so cute! *Eskimo kisses Melanie*

Melanie (giggling): Granny! Your nose tickles!

Kali (kisses her nose): Mwah!

*Melanie purrs, this freaks Kali out (in a good way)*

Kali (blushing madly): Aaaaahhhhh~! Blake! Sweetie!

*Blake and Jaune enter the room*

Blake: Yeah, mom?

Kali (cuddling with Melanie): She’s so precious! She’s too cute! I feel like I’m going to be slain by “cuteness overload”, as the humans say! You’ve made me so happy, Blake!

Blake (chuckling): You’re welcome, mom.

Kali (hands Melanie over to Ghira): Honey, isn’t she adorable?

Ghira (smiling): She is! Ah! *Melanie tugs on his shirt and starts climbing all over him*

Melanie (climbing him): Grandpa! Play with me!

Ghira (laughing): Ahahaha! Ok! Ok! I’ll play with you! *Melanie sits on his right shoulder*

*The three laugh, and Jaune and Blake huddle together watching this*

Jaune: Well, looks like you’ve made your family very happy.

Blake: Correction: WE’VE made our family very happy. I can’t take all the credit.

Jaune: Heh, good point. I was scared of your father for quite some time ever since you told me you were pregnant.

Blake: Worry not, my love. My parents couldn’t be more happier to have a grandkitty to play with.

Kali: Jaunie~!

Jaune (walks over to her): Yes, Ms. Belladonna?

Kali: Oh please, call me mom. Anyways…come closer.

*Jaune leans in closer to Kali and she whispers into his ear, then his face turns red*

Jaune (blushing): I- Wha- Um- Huh?!?

Melanie (confused): Huh? What is it, daddy?

Ghira (confused): Something wrong, son?

Blake (raising an eyebrow): What is it, honey?

Jaune (blushing): …Kali wants another grandkitty.

*Ghira laughs, Melanie still looks confused, and Blake’s face turns red*

Blake (blushing): MOM!!!

Kali: I’m just saying, it’d be nice if Melanie had someone else to play with in this household. And someone else for me to spoil.

*Blake groans loudly*

Jaune (changing the subject): Aaaaaaaaanyways…anyone up for some chicken or fish?

*Ghira and Melanie stand up, all excited*

Ghira/Melanie: Yes, yes, yes!

Kali (leaning in closer to Jaune’s ear): Remember. Second child. I want more grandkitties.

*Jaune’s face goes red again and Blake facepalms hearing this*

————————————————————

~~~>Dragonslayer

*Raven, who’s hands are on her hips, and Yin, who’s crossing her arms, are glaring at each other in a DBZ-like fashion*

Raven: You’ve been glaring at me for quite some time now.

Yin: …

Raven: You’re gonna put wrinkles on your face the more you do that.

Yin: Look who’s talking.

Raven: What’s your problem?

Yin: Apologize to mom.

Raven: What?

Yin (getting angry): Apologize to mom!

Raven: And if I don’t?

Yin: I’ll punch you.

Raven (raising an eyebrow): You’d punch your own grandma?

Yin: You left my mom when she was a baby!

Raven: I had a tribe to look after!

Yin: Who cares about your stupid tribe?!?

*Both continue to glare at each other, and Yang, Jaune, Ruby, and the rest of the family are watching this from the sidelines*

Ruby: Sheesh, Yin seems more angrier than usual.

Summer: Hm…

Yang: Honestly, it’s my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her the stories of her grandmother.

Tai: Hey, it’s alright. We all make mistakes.

Qrow: But at least you’re not like your mother, Yang.

Jaune (wrapping his arm around Yang): Hey, hey. It’s alright, honey. I’m sure your mother has a good reason for being here.

Yang (sighing): I have hopes in- huh?!

*Yang sees Yin punch Raven in the stomach, and she holds her stomach in pain*

Yang (runs over to the scene): Yin! Why’d you do that?!

Yin: Because she asked for it.

Yang: What do you mean “because she asked for it”?!

Raven (coughing): Yang…calm down.

Yang: Huh?

Raven: It’s true…ahahaha…I told her to punch me as hard as she can. I wanted to test out how strong she is…

Yin: And did I disappoint you like mom did?

Yang: Yin!

Raven (chuckling): Quite the opposite, actually…that was quite a punch. *Slowly gets up* I like you.

Yin: Flattery will get you nowhere, grandma.

Yang: YIN!!!

Yin: What?! She left you, mom! I-I was only trying to defend you…

Yang (sighing): …I appreciate you defending me, sweetie, but…

Raven: Yang!

Yang: Huh?

*Raven holds out her hand, Yang grabs it, then Raven pulls her in for a hug*

Yang (surprised): Whoa! Mom?

Raven: Ssshhhhh…I’m proud of you, Yang. You and that boy have come a long way, and given birth to a strong, little dragon.

*Yang doesn’t say anything but frowns a little*

Raven: I’m not expecting you to forgive me when I say this, but…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry for leaving you and your father for the sake of my tribe. I’m sorry leaving you two because I’m such a selfish, stubborn, cynical, hypocritical, cowardly individual!!! *Starts to tear up*

Yang (tears up as well): O-Oh…mom…

*Both women start crying, and Yin looks conflicted upon seeing this*

Yin (softly): …Mom…? G-Grandma…?

*Jaune and Ruby walk over to Yin*

Yin: Dad? Aunt Ruby? I…I don’t know what to feel about this…

Ruby (patting her back): I think we should give ‘em a moment to reconcile.

Jaune (ruffles her hair): Yeah, what say we go inside and prepare a more warm welcome to grandma?

Yin (looking down): Um…I…I don’t know…

Jaune: Alright, how about we stay here and wait for them to stop sobbing?

Yin (contemplating): Hm…hm…alright, dad.

*Jaune and Yin stay in place, Yang and Raven stop crying, and Raven properly introduces herself to her son-in-law and granddaughter in a more friendlier manner*

————————————————————

~~~>Arkos

*Jaune’s sisters - who are now aunts - are currently playing with their little brother’s sons and daughters*

Perseus (groaning): Dad! Tell my aunts to stop pinching my cheeks!

Athena (groaning): If I gotta suffer, so do yo- Ow! Not so rough!

Arc Sister 1: He’s so cute!

Arc Sister 2: I wanna dress him up!

Arc Sister 3: I wanna braid her hair!

Pallas (giggling): Dada!

Apollo (giggling): Ababa!

Arc Sister 4: Ah~! She’s so adorable!

Arc Sister 5: Thanks for letting us play with them, Jaune!

Arc Sister 6: I’m happy for my little bro right now. Married a hottie and she pops out a cutie!

Athena (running away): Stop! Please!

Perseus (running away): Run, sis!

*The Arc sisters give chase and catch them, all the while giggling*

Athena: Nooooo! Somebody save us!

Perseus: Mom! Dad! HELP!!

*Apollo and Pallas giggle some more as the Arc sisters dress them up*

*Meanwhile, downstairs, Jaune and Pyrrha are bonding with Jaune’s mother, father, his sister Saphron, her wife Terra, and their son Adrian, who’s now older. Also in the room are Jaune and Pyrrha’s third daughter and son, Jeanie and Jamison, who are infants*

Mama Arc (cradling Jamison): I couldn’t be a more happier grandmother, son.

Jaune (embarrassed): Mom…

Papa Arc (cradling Jeanie): What can we say? Our son knows how to pick a woman!

Jaune (hiding his face): Oy…

Saphron (giggling): Seems you went a little overboard, baby bro.

*Jaune glares at her*

Terra: Saphron, please. I think we’ve teased him long enough.

Jaune (rubbing his eyes): Yes…thank you, Terra.

Adrian: Grandpa? Can…can I carry Jeanie?

Papa Arc: Only if your uncle Jaune and aunt Pyrrha are okay with it.

*Adrian looks to the duo, and both nod*

Papa Arc (hands her over): Alright, here ya go.

*Adrian cradles Jeanie, he smiles, and Pyrrha sighs while clinging onto Jaune*

Jaune (smirking): …Happy?

Pyrrha (nuzzling her face into him): More than that.

Jaune (smiling): Well, if you’re happy, then so am I.

*Mama Arc kisses Jamison on his forehead, and he coos happily*

Mama Arc (fawning): Eee~! I love you, my little angel!

*Jeanie giggles, causing Adrian’s grin to grow bigger*

Papa Arc (grinning): Is there anything that could make this day more better than it already is?

Pyrrha (very fast): JauneI’mpregnantagain.

Jaune (head piques up): …What?

————————————————————

~~~>Blackguard

Whitley: You’re so cute, Frost!

Winter: Yes, she’s adorable!

*The Schnee siblings are playing with Frost, who’s giggling happily, while Jaune and a 6-month pregnant Bleiss are watching from the sidelines*

Bleiss (pouting): Hrgh…

Jaune: What’s wrong?

Bleiss: I don’t like the fact that my siblings are stealing my little girl away, darling.

Jaune: They’re not stealing her away. They’re just playing with her, is all!

Bleiss: Looks more like stealing to me. Now, get me a custard tart, darling. The baby inside me demands it!

Jaune (throwing his arms): Ok, ok! Sheesh. *Goes into the kitchen*

Bleiss (glaring at her siblings): Hmmm…

Whitley: Frost, who do you love more, mommy or daddy?

Frost: I don’t have a favorite! I love both mommy and daddy!

Bleiss (fawning): Aahhhh~…that’s my girl…

Winter: Whitley, ever noticed that Bleiss has gotten slightly happier ever since Frost was born?

Whitley: I don’t know, Winter…I feel she’s currently in the middle of her mood swings because she’s pregnant again.

*Whitley looks over to Bleiss, who’s giving him a VERY hateful glare. Whitley shudders in fear upon seeing this*

Whitley (shaking): Sheesh…if looks could kill…I’d be dead right now…or be turned into an ice statue. *Looks away*

Frost (confused): Huh? *Looks over to Bleiss, who gives her a warm smile* Eee~! I love you, mommy!

Bleiss (blushing): Mommy loves you too, sweetie!

————————————————————

~~~>Silent Knight

*Inside a small room*

Roman: Alright, Neo! What’s our next target?!

*Neo holds up a picture of a fat, ugly middle-aged man*

Roman (confused): Really? This is our target? He doesn’t look like someone who’s keeping all the Dust.

*Neo nods*

Roman (baffled): Um…alright! Let’s plan this heist with caution! There could be more cops around his presence…and…and…I’m sorry, WHY are we going after this man again?!

*Neo makes a bunch of gestures*

Roman (raising an eyebrow): “It’s confidential”? C’mon, Neo! You can tell me anything! So what’s the real reason why-

*Vanilla, covered in food, barges in and runs up to her mom*

Vanilla (hugging her): Mommy, I’m home! Oh, hi, uncle Roman!

Roman: Oh, uh…hello, Vanilla.

*Neo makes a bunch of gestures to her daughter*

Vanilla: What am I doing here? We got home early!

Jaune (walking in): It’s true- Oh, hey Roman.

Roman: Hi, Jaune. So…you got home early, huh?

Jaune: Yeah. From what I was told, there was a large food fight going on at the cafeteria, and it escalated so badly that the teachers had to call all the parents to pick everybody up.

Roman: Hm…that explains why your daughter’s covered in food.

Vanilla: By the way, mommy…did you find that guy who was mean to me the other day?

*Roman looks confused, while Neo looks nervous*

Jaune (grabbing Vanilla): Vanilla, sweetie, I think we should let mommy do her business while you take bath to wash all this off.

Vanilla (pouting): Hm…Ok…bye, Mommy! Bye, uncle Roman!

*Jaune and Vanilla exit the room, Roman looks at Neo with a suspicion squint*

Roman: So…what’s the REAL reason why we’re going after this man?

*Neo sighs in defeat, then makes a long series of gestures while Roman nods his head in response*

Roman (pondering): Hm…alright. So let me get this straight: This guy threw your daughter’s ice cream to the ground, yelled at both you and her to stop eating sweets, made insulting offensive comments about how women shouldn’t be in charge to look after children, let alone those who can’t speak, then walked away?

*Neo nods in response while looking angry*

Roman (sighing): …We won’t get Dust for doing this, but…alright, I’ll help you kill this son of a bitch. Just for you and your family. *Smirks*

*Neo smiles and claps happily*

[staticscreenwriting]

Love was just a word - Billy Hargrove

Synopsis: Billy wants to start fresh after Highschool. But that means facing the past and that’s scary. Also abandoned pools are romantic.

A/N: This is my entry for @hotstuffhargrove‘s Summer Writing Challenge.  I had the prompts "want a ride" and "is that your idea of flirting". This is over 8k words so, it’s long be warned. Also I’m gonna read through and edit this tomorrow morning I’m so close to falling asleep (forgive me small mistakes please). Feedback, as always, is appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

I thought that love was just a word They sang about in songs I heard It took your kisses to reveal That I was wrong, and love is real

The california sun burns down on his skin with familiar warmth as Billy leans against the outside wall of a tall brick building. There’s vines covering the front and a big white sign proudly displaying the name of the institution, “ Daisy Fields nursing home”.

His hands feel clammy as he takes yet another drag of what’s probably his 3rd cigarette in the matter of half an hour.  Every time he feels like taking a step forward and entering the building, his heart speeds up and it feels like his legs are made of solid concrete. If Neil could see him now, it would just confirm all the taunts he’s been throwing at Billy for years.

There’s people walking in and out of the big red doors. Most of them are smiling. He wishes so deeply that this is what things are like for him. That walking inside will end up in him smiling the way those people do. That facing the life he’s left behind means being welcomed home with open arms and friendly words. He’s afraid that is not how things are gonna be.

“ Hey,“ a voice speaks up from besides him as he blows the cigarette smoke into the open air. “ Can I help you ? “

There’s a girl who seems to be around his age. Her hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and her eyes look exhausted but there’s a certain softness to the way she looks at him that makes Billy feel conflicted. People don’t look at him with soft eyes. They haven’t for a long time. It’s either rage or admiration or lust. There’s no inbetween. Those are the emotions he’s familiar with. The emotions he knows how to deal with.

“ Hello ? “ it’s when she speaks up again and raises an eyebrow in question, that he realizes she’s still waiting for an answer. But really, what can he say. Can she help? Not really.

“ No I uh — no. “

“ You sure ? Are you here to visit someone ? I can see if they’re ready to welcome a visitor. I work he—”

“ I said no!”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out like this. Mean and snippy and loud. It’s just too much right now. Coming back to California and facing the life he has left behind. All of it is crashing down on him all at the same time and it’s — it’s a lot.

“ Oh, okay. Well in case you change your mind... “ she trails off. Billy wonders if she doesn’t know how to end the sentence or if he’s supposed to guess how it ends.

“ If you change your mind and decide not to be such a fucking pussy and finally face the consequences of all the stupid decisions you’ve ever made, just come inside”.

Yeah that sounds about right.

He finishes the cigarette before getting into the car and speeding off. Back to Chase’s flat. The one that’s too small for even one person, let alone two. Billy sleeps on a two-seater couch he suspects is from sometime between the early stone age and 1950. It squeaks every time he as much as takes a deep breath. There’s springs painfully pressing into his back and he has to sleep in a fetus position so his legs don’t hang off of the couch from the knee down.

But really, beggars can’t be choosers now can they ? Chase doesn’t have to let him stay at his place and yet he does anyway. Sure they’ve been best friends since as long as Billy can remember, but that was never the friendship they had and it still isn’t the friendship they have. Things with Chase are easy. It’s all the fun and loyalty that the best friendships come with only there’s no expectations. No pressure to be someone you’re not. Neither Chase nor Billy had expected the other to get in contact during Billy’s stint in Indiana and yet they both knew that if things go real bad they could count on the other to be there. Chase is a good friend, Billy thinks, maybe the best. But he’s a god awful roommate and those are the fact.

Billy Hargrove is a lot of things but he’s not messy. Never was. Even as a child, being clean and tidy was something that had been drilled into his head like a fucking commandment. Neil hates messes. Physical ones and emotional ones. In the Hargrove household you learn to either put your stuff away or never see it again because Neil has gotten rid of it. In the Hargrove household you really learn to cherish the things that are exclusively yours and you learn to take the utmost care of them.

When Billy arrives back at the flat, he finds it empty. What else has he expected really ? Chase works full time at the gas station. It’s an exhausting shop and he has to work a lot of night shifts but it pays well enough and he has first hand access to all kids of booze. He’s also mentioned that a lot of chicks hit up the station on their way to the bar, to pregame or some shit like that. Billy has yet to test that statement on its actual truth.

As his eyes move around the room, glancing at what is his life right now, Billy starts to wonder if this is really living. Maybe it’s just existing. All his belongings are stuffed into two grey duffle bags. He’s lodging on his friends couch eating his friend’s food and acting as a silent side character in his friend’s life.

He’s got no job, no perspective and not idea where to go from here. This is not the life he wants to live. But changing means facing all the shit that’s gone wrong and Billy isn’t sure if he’s quite ready to do that.

- OOO - 

It’s 3 days later that he finds himself in the same position, leaning against the same building, smoking a cigarette and wiping his clammy hands on his jeans.

He watches as an older lady talks to a family. Her family, probably. They are smiling and laughing and the little girl that is with them, cuddles close to the older woman. Love is radiating from every corner as he looks at them. They all look so all consumingly happy. He thinks that maybe things here aren’t so bad. Maybe they’re good. Maybe they’re happy. That should ease his conscience a little, right ? Right ? Only it doesn’t. Not even a little bit.

“ Billy ? “

It the same girl from the other day, only this time her hair is down and she’s carrying a guitar case.

“ What ? “

“ That’s your name, right ? “ she asks, eyebrows raised.

“ Yeah. How to hell do you know that. “

She smiles at him and when usually is would make him angry, Billy can’t help but let her smile sooth him a little. It’s so soft and full of something Billy can’t put a finger too. It’s like she’s smiling because she means it not because she feels like it’s expected of her.

“ William Collins is one of our residents. He has a picture of you in his room. I thought you looked familiar the other day and I finally remembered. I mean sure, you’re like 8 in that picture and you’ve grown quite a bit since then — “ Billy almost can’t suppress the smirk trying to spread on his lips as she says that and glances towards his arms “ — but your eyes. Those are still the same. “

Billy loves his eyes. They’re the one thing about him that most resembles his mother. The only other thing he really ever loved in his life.

“ Is that your idea of flirting ? Cause it’s not working, sorry “

She laughs at that and Billy reconsiders his last words there for a moment. Maybe it is working. Her laugh is phenomenal, he thinks.

“ No. No I — that would be a tad unprofessional. So, am I correct ? “

She is. He knows what picture she’s talking about. It’s one that had been sitting on his grandparents’ mantelpiece when he was younger. It’s of him and their dog Charlie. He’s smiling at the camera. Smiling at his mother who’s behind the camera. That day, was one of the good ones. A day when things had gotten too bad at home and mom had packed him into the car and had driven them to his grandparents’ house. He was happy there because mom was happy there and because there were people there who loved him. Who wanted him around. Sometimes he wishes his mom had been smart enough to leave Neil behind. That she would’ve ignored her soft heart that still held even an ounce of love for her husband. That she and Billy had just stayed with Grandma and Grandpa. Maybe then things would’ve been different. Maybe things would be different now. Alas they aren’t. They’re as shit as they are.

“ Why do you even care “

It’s a knee-jerk reaction. One he displays every time someone asks too much, wants to know too much. It’s just easier this way. In the end, no one really cares anyway. People are just nosy assholes.

“ Well clearly you care too. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here, huh ? I just thought maybe you’d like to come in, see William. He’s doing well so — “

“ Look, you don’t know anything, okay ? So how about you don’t try to mendle in my family life, yeah ? Fucking ridiculous. “

Hearing that his Granddad is doing well, make him feel a little better about everything. Doesn’t mean it gets easier though. The weight still feels heavy on his shoulders. Like he’s Atlas and the guilt of his past is the world on his back.

“ I was just trying to be nice. I think he’d like to see you, that’s all I wanted to say. Have a nice day, Billy ! “

Her words are laced with an underlying fury and a very obvious disdain for the way he’s been talking to her. Billy thinks he liked the soft looks better. The smiles too. Then again, it’s his own fault really. People have their breaking points and they have every right to be pissed off at his attitude towards them. God he wishes he wasn’t such a fuck-up.

He can just hear Neil’s cruel laugh in the back of his mind. The constant scoffs at Billy. He wishes there was a way to make them shut up. To quiet his mind. Ways that don’t turn him into a horrible person. Like the alcohol did to Neil.

His eyes follow the girl as she hurries inside the building. One of these days he’s gonna muster up to courage to do the same. To face it all. Not today though. Not on a day that make him so painfully aware of all that is going wrong in his life.

Billy thought that once he was free of his father’s radical tyranny, life would be easier. He truly believed that as soon as he was back in California, back home, things would just work themselves out. Spoiler alert : They don’t. And maybe that’s the typical teenage angst talking but he feels so desperately lost. And maybe all teens do but most of them have someone to turn to. All Billy has is a father that detests him and a Grandfather he can’t bear to look in the eyes.

- OOO -

There’s moans coming from the bedroom when Billy enters the apartment. Apparently Chase had a point when he said his job at the gas station was great for picking up girls.

Billy tries to ignore it for a while but really the place is the size of a matchbox and it’s hard to focus on anything else. A look inside the fridge tells him that in favor of entertaining the girl in his bedroom, Chase has ditched on doing a grocery run.

That settles it for Billy. He grabs his keyes and jacket and rushes back through the door and out into the night, looking for a place to eat. A place of peace and quiet.

- OOO -

Billy walks out of the 7/11 and onto the parking lot. The ground is still wet from the rain that has swept over the town earlier today. The neon lights reflecting in the puddles create a ocean of reds and pinks and bright greens. And if it wasn’t such a mundane thing, Billy would almost thing it looks pretty.

Just as he is about to fumble his car keys from the pocket of his denim jacket, a voice from beside him speaks up.

“ Hey stranger. “

Billy lifts his head and glances towards the car parked two spots from his. There on the hood sits the girl from the nursing home. The one with the soft eyes. The one that talks to much. He hair isn’t pulled into a ponytail this time and she’s wearing a big grey sweater of some sports team. It’s quite that change from what Billy assumes is her usual uniform.

There’s a few boxes of food placed on her lap and it would be a lie to say that the thought of greasy fast food doesn’t make Billy’s mouth water. All he could manage to buy with the few dollars he has saved is a box of graham crackers and a bag of off brand nacho chips.

“ You know at this point I start wondering if you’re maybe stalking me “ Billy exclaims and walks towards her car. It’s a black Mercury Comet. It’s gorgeous.

“ You come to my workplace. So really who’s doing the stalking “ she laughs and takes a sip from the plastic cup clutched in her hand.

Billy only scoffs “ nice car “.

“ Thanks. She’s a gift from my dad. Ya know, it makes up for the emotional abandonment he put me through. “

Billy almost chokes on his spit at those words.

“ Your car ain’t bad either. Sooo, is that your dinner ? “ she asks and glances towards the bag of chips in Billy’s hand.

“ What about it ? “

“ That’s not very nutritious “

“ And onion rings are ? “ there’s a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips. It’s involuntarily but it’s there.

“ No but they’re really delicious “ the girl replies before holding the box out towards Billy “ and I got a little too much food so it’s your lucky night I guess. Care to join my feast ? “

For a moment he wants to say no, but what’s the alternative ? Eat chips and crackers alone in his car or go home and listen to Chase bang some random girl ?

Maybe sharing fast food on the hood of a car with some girl he just met isn’t the worst way to spend his friday night.

“ What’s your name ? “ he asks as he scoots onto the hood next to her and grabs a few fries from the box.

“ (Y/N) “

“ I’m — “

“ Billy, I know. “

“ Yeah you do. I forgot “

“ So what brings you to a 7/11 parking lot in the middle of the night on a friday ? Didn’t expect to have company tonight “

“ You do this regularly ? “ Billy laughs and munches away on another onion ring.

“ Oh whatever. “

“ I’m staying with a friend and he’s got a girl over so — “

“ Yikes, awkward “

“ Yeah. What about you ? “

(Y/N) takes another loud sip from the plastic cup “ My roommate and her boyfriend are having some epic meltdown. They have those about twice a week. Then they usually end up either crying or fucking and I’m not particularly thrilled on being around when either of that happens. “

“ Yikes. “

“ Uh-huh. “

For a moment silence settles upon them, the only thing to be heard is the buzzing sound of the neon lights. Then (Y/N) speaks up again.

“ Can I ask about the hair ? “

“ Absolutely not ! We’re not doing that. “ Bill grumbles in return.

“ Doing what ? “

“ Backstory. I don’t do that kinda stuff. “

“ Oh I’m sorry, “ (Y/N) scoffs and raises her hands in mock defence “ didn’t know you were playing the whole silent and mysterious kinda role. “

“ I don’t. Just isn’t any of your business. “

“ That’s fair “ she agrees and shakes the plastic cup only to discover it empty. Her lips are pulled into a slight pout. It’s hardly there before it’s gone but Billy just about catches a glimpse of it.

“ Guess that’s my cue to get my ass home, huh ? “ (Y/N) jokes and rattles the empty cup once again.

“ You think your friends are done ? “ Billy asks, raising a brow in question.

“ God I hope so. What about yours ? “

“ Knowing Chase, yeah. “

And it’s when they both chuckle at his words, that Bill feels something unfamiliar settling in his chest. It feels warm and comfortable and even though it’s only faint, it’s there. Joy.

They wish each other a good night and it’s not just empty words like when he says it to Neil and Susan after dinner, it’s a true statement. He hopes she has a good night, if simply for the fact that she made him feel less alone in the last few hours she’s sure deserving of it.

When he’s just about to get into his car, (Y/N)’s voice calls out to Billy once more.

“ You know, I think he would really like to see you. Maybe — maybe come inside next time and say hello. “

He doesn’t answer. Just nods. Maybe. Yeah maybe next time he will.

- OOO -

He doesn’t. But in his defence, there’s a pretty valid reason for it. At least he likes to tell himself that. He’s got a job now, one he absolutely hates but one that makes it possible for him to eat actual proper food for dinner and rent a tiny apartment at the edge of town. Is it nice there ? No. But is it better than sleeping on a couch that is too small for him ? Absolutely.

After leaving Hawkins, Billy never thought he’d ever be a lifeguard again but here he is, doing exactly the thing he said he wouldn’t at the public swimming pool. And it’s not even an outdoors pool as he had hoped. It’s inside and it’s mostly visited by old people and groups of mothers trying to teach their toddlers how to swim. Billy hates it but it seems to be the only job people are willing to give him. The only one people are willing to trust him with. He can’t blame them either. It’s not like he’s got this great resume of talents and job experience to wow them with. And really, and job is better than being dependant on Chase for everything.

It’s 3 weeks later now and he’s still feeling the invisible force holding his legs down and keeping him from entering the building. It’s ridiculous really, deep inside he knows that none of what happened was his fault, that he was just a kid. And yet it does nothing to ease his conscience.

“ You’re back again. Thought I scared you off with my bad jokes and fast food obsession “

There’s a smile on (Y/N)’s face as she exits the building and comes to a stop next to Billy. She looks tired, he wonders if it’s the job or the late night trips to 7/11.

“ Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not scared of anything “

What a load of bullshit. Billy is scared of pretty a lot of things he’s just become very good at pretending that nothing ever bothers him. He knows it’s bullshit though and by the looks of it and the little smirk playing on her lips (Y/N) knows too.

“ You gonna come inside today ? “ she asks, voice laced with hope and excitement. He hates disappointing her but he just can’t do it. There’s so many voices in his head telling him to just get it over with. But there’s one that’s louder than all the others and it’s pulling at his arms, holding down his feet. Not allowing him to step any closer to the door. That one is pure and unfiltered fear and he hates it more than anything.

Billy Hargrove is afraid of a lot of things and mostly fear itself.

“ Nah. Brought you something though “

“ Me ? “ (Y/N) exclaims, pointing at herself in disbelieve.

Billy scoff around his cigarette and holds a paper bag out to her “ It’s not much, don’t make a big deal out of it. “

“ Oh it’s a big deal. “

“ It’s not. Just — fucking take it. “

Grabbing the bag from his hand, (Y/N) walks towards the little picnic bench and pulls out two grilled cheese sandwiches and a can of coke.

“ You brought me food ? Aw, that’s so nice. This is a big deal, no boy has ever brought me food before. “

“ I said it’s not — “

“ Yeah yeah whatever you say. “

As she’s sitting down and munching away on one of the sandwiches, Billy can feel his cheeks warm up. It’s not in the same way they do when girls whisper dirty things into his ear. It’s a different feeling. One that he is not entire sure about. People don’t usually think he’s nice. No one ever called him that before. Hot ? Yeah. Charming ? Sure. But nice ? Nah.

And Billy always thought nice wasn’t as much of a compliment as it was a soft letdown. “You’re nice, but- “ .

There seems to be no “but” following (Y/N)’s words. “Nice” sounds so genuine coming from her. “Nice” sounds like the best thing anyone could be, when she says it.

“ What, you just gonna stand there and watch me eat ? Sit down, dude “

Her words are accompanied by her sliding the other sandwich over to him and nodding towards the bench across from hers. “ You brought two sandwiches for a reason. Sit down. Eat with me. Please “

Her eyes hold something that Billy hasn’t seen in so long. It’s a certain warmth. A care that runs deeply. He doesn’t know why she cares about him nor what he did to deserve it but when life grants you a good thing, you don’t fucking ask any questions. You take it.

And so he takes the seat she offered and starts chewing away on the sandwich.

“ You from here ? “ he murmures between bites.

“ Huh ? “

“ I said are you from here ? “

“ Oh I thought we weren’t doing this. Backstory an all. What made you change your mind “.

He can see she’s challenging him. The softness of her eyes is overshadowed by a glint of mischief and her lips are pulled into a teasing smirk. If this was pre-Hawkins Billy, he would’ve taken none of it. Girl like that mean work. Girls who challenge you are exhausting. Girls like that didn’t interest him in a way that he wasn’t willing to put in any effort for a small dose of bliss that comes with a blowjob or a quicky in the back of his car.

But this was a new life right ? One where he got a job not to impress people but to secure a future. To make money and to get stuff done. To maybe, one day, have a life that he can be proud of. And maybe a future that’s fit for a girl like (Y/N). That challenges him and keeps him on his toes. One worth putting in effort.

“ Guess I changed my mind “

“ Oh we’re playing like that now. Alright, okay. Yeah I’m from California. Not here but further north. Came down south for a boy. Regret the boy but not the move. Now I work as a receptionist at a nursing home. I wanted to be a nurse but couldn’t afford nursing school. So this is the next best thing. I get to hang out with the people who live here and sometimes I play guitar for them. It’s all good. “

With the warmth in her voice and the softness in her eyes, Billy can imagine she’d make a wonderful nurse. Hell she’s only met him like four times and already shows more care towards him than his father and Susan ever did. It’s quite sad to think about it that way.

“ What about you ? “

“ California born and raised. Then my dad and his wife thought it was a good idea to move to the literal buthole of america. Fucking Hawkins Indiana. “

“ Seems like you loved it there “ (Y/N) jokes before opening the can of coke and taking a sip.

“ Oh it was great. Everything you ever want in life ? It’s there. Horny housewives. Loud teenagers. People who get in your business constantly. Everything! Oh it was — incredible! “

(Y/N) nods and for a moment it almost feels like she understand. He knows she doesn’t. No one ever really can understand what the move meant to him but she’s listening and that’s a hell of a lot more than anyone’s done before.

“ Sounds delightful. Soooo, can I ask about the hair ?” she says and looks up at him through her eyelashes, seeming almost shy.

Billy feels weirdly self conscious. He’s heard his fair share of comments about the mullet. And if he’s being completely honest, he knows it looks kinda ridiculous sometimes when the perm is fresh and the curls still bouncy. But it’s the complete opposite of what his dad deems a respectable haircut. It’s so far off from the straight buzzcut Neil wants him to wear. And pissing Neil off is reason enough for Billy to cherish the mullet. But through the years he’s grown to love his hair and how it makes him — kinda special. It’s his thing just like the Camaro is and the necklace and the leather jacket. It’s part of what make him well — him.

And the girls go crazy for it too so that’s an added bonus.

“ What is it about my hair ? “

“ I don’t know, I just think it’s cool. Really contrasts your sad eyes. “

Sad eyes ? Billy doesn’t have sad eyes, does he ? Surely not because Billy isn’t sad. He’s angry and grumpy and perpetually pissed off. But he’s not sad. Sad people are vulnerable and that’s the last thing Billy would ever allow himself to be.

“ I’m not sad ! “

“ You sure ? Cause you look mighty sad. “

“ I said I’m not sad. Drop it. “

“ Alright. Alright. Sorry. Just — your hair looks really cool. I like it. “

And once again, his cheeks feel slightly warmer at that.

“ Hey I got a job “ he doesn’t know for sure why he says it. It’s not like he’s proud of the job he’s doing. All he does is make sure no one’s running on the wet floor and the old folks don’t drown on his watch. That’s about it. And he’s only earning minimum wage, barely enough to afford the apartment and food. So he surely can’t impress her with money either. Maybe he just wants someone to be proud of him for once. Even if it’s this random girls he’s been infatuated with since he first saw her. Maybe especially when it’s this girl.

“ Yeah ? That’s great. What are you doing ? “

It’s then, that he regrets ever mentioning it.

“ I uh— I’m a lifeguard at the indoor swimming pool “ he’s sure his voice tells her exactly how much he enjoys that job, not at all.

But to his surprise, she doesn’t laugh at him. Doesn’t ridicule him for his choice of work. She just smiles and that means the world to Billy.

“ That’s cool. Saving people from drowning huh ? “

“ I mostly tell kids not to run. “

“ Well you’re keeping them from getting hurt. Good for you. Didn’t even know we have a public swimming pool. I should check it out sometime. “

And by the way she smiles he can tell she means it.

- OOO -

In the following months their little lunch dates become somewhat of a habit. Billy shows up at her work at least twice a week with sandwiches or burgers and sometimes he even brings milkshakes. And though neither of them will admit it, it’s secretly the highlight to both their weeks.

Billy still doesn’t come inside. Still doesn’t visit his grandpa. Guilt still feels too heavy on his shoulders to even consider that. But seeing (Y/N) for their lunch dates, makes that weight feel almost light for the short amount of time they’re spending together. She’s always genuinely glad to see him. She’s all smiles and soft eyes and Billy doesn’t remember a time when someone actually wanted him around in that way. That someone was happy to spend time with him. It feels good and it makes the guilt disappear for a while.

Fall turns into winter when Billy decides to shake up their little routine. The air is colder and Christmas is fast approaching. Though it’s still California and cold, Billy thinks, is relative. The California winters have nothing on Indiana. That place almost made his balls freeze off.

Billy doesn’t come around for lunch that day. Instead, (Y/N) is surprised to discover him leaning against her car as she gets out of work. It’s a late shift and she’s exhausted but seeing Billy waiting for her feels weirdly domestic. It’s a nice feeling. One she hasn’t felt in a while.

“ Want a ride ? “ he asks, signature Billy grin pulling at the corner of his lips.

“ Nooo, you’re leaning against my ride. “

“ Ah come on, play along. “

“ Alright sure. Where to ? “

“ It’s a surprise “

“ A surprise ? “ (Y/N) responds, her forehead wrinkling as she pulls a face of confusion. “ Are you taking me on a date ? “

Is he ? He wonders that himself. He likes this girl, there’s no denying that. Thing is, he’s been on many dates and none of them came from a friendship. None of them were with girls that made his heart feels warm and fuzzy and light. So what is this exactly ? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that it feels good. That it feels right.

“ Just stop asking questions and let me surprise you, alright ? “

When she smiles, Billy can’t keep himself from hoping this is a date. Because her smile, as he said before, is phenomenal.

- OOO -

“ Nooo way! Are we even allowed to be here ? “ (Y/N)’s eyes are wide with disbelieve as she enters the big hall of the public swimming pool. The place is glowing in a blue hue as the pool lies still before them. A perpetual smell of chlorine seeps through her clothes as she walks closer towards the water.

“ I work here I am contractually obligated to be here even. “

“ But not at night when it’s supposed to be closed, you’re not. “

“ Ah come on now, take a walk on the wild side. Thought you girls are into that kinda stuff ? “

“ Breaking and entering ? “

“ Bad boys. Also I have a key so technically — “

He trails off as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“ What are you doing ? “

“ Well I’m not gonna swim in my jeans and shirt. And you shouldn’t either. You didn’t bring a change of clothes “.

The way her eyes wander up and down his body as he slips out of his clothes leaving him only in his boxers, doesn’t get lost on Billy. Billy is familiar with that reaction. He knows he’s good looking and he’s surely got the ego to match. But seeing that he has this effect on (Y/N) makes him feel like a million bucks.

“ I’d love to let you ogle me some more but I’m here to swim “ Billy exclaims.

“ I’m not ogling —” but before (Y/N) can finish her sentence, Billy cannonballs into the pool, creating a huge splash.

When he comes up again, his curls cling to his face and (Y/N) thinks he looks a little like a wet cocker spaniel. She also thinks he looks absolutely adorable.

“ Come on in ! You scared or what ? “ Billy hollers out towards her.

“ Scared ? Please. “

Billy knows she likes this. The challenge. The teasing. It comes so easy with her. Billy wonders if this is what was missing from his life for so long. Someone that feels easy to be around. Where he doesn’t have to walk on eggshells. Where he doesn’t have to uphold a certain image. Where he can be — well himself. The version of himself he wants to be.

“ Turn around “ (Y/N) calls out to him, slipping off her jacket in the process.

“ What ? “

“ I don’t come prepared so please spare me the embarrassment of having to show you my ugly non-matching underwear “

Billy tries hard to keep the images at bay that those words stir up in his mind. He’s sure she looks perfect whatever underwear she’s wearing, matching or not. But he can’t let himself think about that now because he’s only in his boxers and there’s no way to properly hide a boner and now THAT would be fucking embarrassing.

“ Alright, look. I’m turning around. Just hurry up! “

There’s a rustling of clothes as Billy stands with his back towards (Y/N) and before he can react a splash of water washes over him.

(Y/N) shakes her wet hair as she comes back up to the surface and Billy thinks she’s never looked better. Her hair is a wet mess clinging tightly to her skin and she’s got mascara running down her cheeks but god, that smile. That smile could light up an entire town, he’s sure.

“ You look like a poodle. Your curls are so cute “ she says and softly tugs on on a strand of Billy’s hair.

“ A poodle huh ? That’s just what every guys wants to hear when on a date. “

“ So this is a date ? “ (Y/N) asks again, a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

“ Do you want it to be ? “ he says it in a way that sounds so casual. Like it doesn’t make his heart beat faster. Like it’s no big deal. It is a big deal though. It’s a huge deal.

“ I do, “ he swears his heart beat out of his chest at those words. “ I just wish there was music. “

“ You want music ? “ Billy chimes up.

“ Can you do that ? “

He only answers her by throwing her a wink before hopping out of the pool and walking towards the little lifeguard office. It’s mostly used to store the first aid kit and the lost and found box but it also holds the intercom system and the radio that has horrible reception and really only works for one or two stations. Billy only hopes that the gods or whatever higher powers people chose to believe in are on his side tonight and that the radio is gonna play some good stuff.

A static sound fills the room as Billy presses the button of the intercom. He sets it so the it stays on without having to press the button the entire time and clears his throat once before speaking into the little microphone. “ Ladies and Gentlemen, as requested by our special guest miss (Y/N), please enjoy tonight’s musical entertainment, provided to you by— “ he pauses and turns the radio towards the microphone, “ Billy Idol. Eh, could be worse “.

Billy Idol’s “Eyes without a face” echoes through the halls of the pool. (Y/N) can’t help but feel like she’s stuck in a scene from her very own romance movie. Sure, maybe splashing around in a closed public swimming pool isn’t everyone’s dream date but to her it seems perfect.

It’s her and Billy and things don’t have to be perfect. They don’t have to be everyone else’s perception of romantic. She thinks it’s very charming. It feels a little magical even. And in the end that’s all that really matters, isn’t it ?

Her thoughts are interrupted as Billy jumps back into the pool, creating yet another huge splash.

And before either of them can really process what’s happening, they’re caught in the bliss of the moment, splashing and jumping and pushing each other into the water. It’s like for a moment nothing else matters. It’s light and easy and fun. They’re allowed to be the teenagers they are. For a night they get to forget about work and money and all the other shit weighing so heavy on their hearts and just — be. Just be silly teenagers playing around in a pool. Unbothered. Free.

Billy tries to remember the last time he got to feel like this. It’s been a while.

He wants to stay in this moment forever. Capture it in a freeze frame and never leave. Because the walls of this pool hold only laughter right now, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. All he ever wants to feel.

Billy’s chest is heaving from exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by fun. By laughter. As he leans against the side of the pool, (Y/N) surfaces right before him. There’s a shine in her eyes and he wonders if he’s the one who put it there. He hopes he is.

She’s so close now, nose almost touching his and it sends a flutter right to his stomach. Really, it’s silly. He shouldn’t be this nervous. He’s been with a lot of girls, has done a lot of things. Why does this feel so different ? Maybe because this isn’t a mean to shut up the voices. To take his mind off of all the shit going on around him. This one feels different because it is. Because it means more. Because it means so much more.

“ Hi “ she whispers, water droplets pearling down her face. She reminds him of a mermaid then, like she jumped right out of that movie Splash. Not that he’s seen much of it or can remember the plot very well, but he does remember Daryl Hannah alright. He thinks (Y/N) looks even more beautiful.

“ Hey. “

From then on, it’s heavy breathing and speeding hearts and hesitant soft touches. And then his hands find the way into her wet hair and onto her cheek and her lips brush against his. It’s merely a whisper of a touch but it’s sending little electric shocks straight through his heart and all throughout Billy’s body.

And then he pulls her as close as he can manage and kisses her just like he’s been wanting to kiss her since they hung out at the parking lot and he realized just how wonderful she really was, all bright eyes and big smiles and all.

And then — then she pulls away. The shine in her eyes is gone and is replaced by a look of utter uncertainty and hesitance.

“ You alright ? “ he asks, hands still cradling her face.

“ I like you “

Those words send another shock to his heart. He can feel the smile tugging at the corner of his lips but something about the way she says it makes him hold back.

“ I like you too. “

“ No, you don’t understand. I like you. I — I love spending time with you. You make me smile and laugh and my heart feels all gooey when you’re around but — “

There’s always a but isn’t there.

“ But ? “

“ But I feel like I don’t know you at all. I understand that you have a hard time talking about certain things and I am trying to be patient but how can I let myself fall for you when I don’t know who you are. Like — who you really are. There’s clearly things in your past that make you sad and that weigh down on you. Those things shape you in a way, they make out part of who you are and I feel like you’re purposely keeping those things from me. But how can I know you if I never get the full picture ? I want this so badly, Billy. I’m just afraid that you’ll always be a riddle to me in one way or another. “

No one’s ever asked that of him, really. There’s been girls that had this weird idea of being some kind of savior. They wanted to fix whatever they deemed broken about him and thought that their adoration could in any way lessen his greive. Though they never outright asked him about any of it. They got their gossip from whatever nosy bitch dug deep enough to figure it all out and spread it through the high school hallways. But no one’s ever asked. Until (Y/N).

And it makes all the difference.

“ My mom is dead and my dad is an abusive asshole. That’s the beginning and the end of my personality. And it turns me into a mean person. An angry one and I — I don’t want to be that person. I come with a lot of baggage and I am sorry if that’s too much but I want to be with you too. You’re the first person in a long time to actually give a shit and I am fucking ecstatic that you do. Because you’re hot and beautiful and a little weird and I’m so into that. Look I want to tell you everything but I don’t even understand half the things myself. I’ll try though. I’ll fucking try my best. If that’s good enough “.

“ That’s all I’m asking. “

He’s never been good enough. It’s a strange feeling to be told that this time he is. A good feeling. And really, he’s unsure of how to handle this. How to react.

So he reacts in a way he knows very well.

With a kiss. And another. And another.

And when he pulls away to take a breath, foreheads still touching, she takes his face in between her hands. They’re soft and gentle and it’s a complete contrast to the harsh slaps against his face that he is so painfully used to.

“ Sad boy, you’re making me fall so deeply in love with you.”

If only he could put into words how much that means to him.

If only he could articulate how much she means to him.

- OOO -

The world shift a little after that night. Billy still comes around for lunch dates but he also brings her around his flat and they spend a lot of time just lounging on his tiny couch, sharing kisses and watching Cheers.

Billy soaks it up like a sponge. The love and affection she showers him with is so foreign to him but it feels too good to deny himself to relish in it.

It’s a few weeks later, Christmas lights cover the little bushes in front of the retirement home, as Billy sits on the bench as usual, taking long drag from his cigarette.

(Y/N) mentioned once, how much she enjoys the christmas time and kept gushing about the twinkling lights that Billy’s neighbours have strung up in their front yard. Billy thinks he might have to drop by a store and get some for his place. She’s  over there a lot and he’s sure it will make her smile. Her smile is worth all the hassle.

He watches an older couple sit by the little gazebo in front of the building. The man is softly holding onto the lady’s hand, keeping them warm in the chilly winter air. Up until this point, Billy hasn’t really given any thought to what his life might by like in the future. When he’s old and gray. It never really mattered. Now that he watches the couple, he hopes that his future resembles this someday. And he hopes it’s (Y/N) hands he gets to hold, wrinkles and all.

(Y/N) rests a soft hand on Billy’s shoulder. She’s always gentle with him, something he’s infinitely grateful for.

“ Hey Babe, I — “ his words get stuck in his throat as he turns around to face his girlfriend. Her eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a unsure smile on her face but that’s not what makes him stop. It’s the old man standing beside her. The one he hasn’t seen in so long. He looks exactly like Billy remembers him. The same gentle smile. The same wrinkles around his eyes. The same grey hair.

The same eyes. His eyes. His mom’s eyes.

“ Billy “

There’s no resentment in his grandpa’s voice. Nothing but kindness. Billy can’t take this. He doesn’t deserve this. This is not how he wanted this to go either. To be pushed into this situation. He was supposed to live life on his terms.

His hands are shaking as familiar rage curses through his body. (Y/N) knew he wasn’t ready. She had no right. It’s in the way he looks at her when he gets up. The way all the warmth has escaped from his eyes and is replaced by an icy glare. It’s in the way he walks past her not sparing her a single look back over his shoulder. Pure and utter disappointment.

He stalks past the gazebo and across the parking lot before coming to a halt next to his car. Maybe he was too quick to trust. It all was too good to be true anyway. Right ? Because good things don’t happen to Billy Hargrove. They never do. They never did.

Awkwardly he fumbles for another cigarette, pulling on out and dropping the rest of the box in the process.

“ Fuck.” a curse leaves his lips as hot tears are threatening to fall. He’s used to people letting him down but this one hurts more. He honest to god believed her words, believed that she would let him go at his own pace. Even if that means never entering the building.

The lighter won’t fucking work and it all comes together in an emotional meltdown washing over him like tidal wave.

(Y/N)’s feet create a crunching noise as she hurries across the gravel and toward Billy’s car. For a second he thinks about leaving. Just driving off and forgetting this ever happened. She ever happened. But he knows that is bullshit. She means too much to him. He fucking loves her and that is both his redemption and what seems like his ruin.

“ Billy I’m — “

“ You had no right ! ”

(Y/N), for the first time, sees the version of him she’s only ever heard about before. The one that is entirely made of anger and rage. It scares her a little and Billy almost feels bad. Almost.

“ I’m sorry ! I just thought — “

“ Well you thought wrong ! I told you. I told you (Y/N) “ he has to bite his lower lip to keep the tears from falling. “Boys don’t cry, Billy ! “ Neil’s voice ghosts through his head. You can’t show vulnerability. It makes you weak.

(Y/N) however, doesn’t care about any of that. He tears are freely rolling down her cheeks and Billy really wants to reach out and wipe them away. Though he can’t bring himself to do it. There’s a storm of emotions raging inside him and he has no idea where he stands in that moment.

“ I didn’t meant to betray your trust, Billy. I promise you that. I just thought that maybe you needed a little push. He talks so much about you. Billy he loves you so much. I love you so much ”.

There’s a confession there of great gravity. He hears it loud and clear though in that moment it gets overshadowed by everything else that’s going on.

“ I don’t want him to see the person I am right now, (Y/N). Mean and bitter and sad. It’s bad enough I never came around to visit after grandma died and he was sent here. I am a horrible person and I don’t want that to be the image he has of me. I — “ he takes a big breath. “ I can’t go there and look at him and see my mother’s eyes and see how disappointed he’ll be when he realizes what I turned into. He’s the only one who loved her as much as I did and I can’t live knowing I disappointed him. That I disappointed my mom”.

That’s when his self restraint breaks. The floodgates open and big tears pearl down his cheek. Sobs escape him and he’s only glad Neil can’t see him like this. Weak and vulnerable and —

(Y/N) wraps her arms so tightly around his middle that it knocks the wind out of him for a second. She’s warm and soft and (Y/N). She smells like fresh cotton and spearmint chewing gum. Like home.

Weak and vulnerable and in love.

“ Billy. You might think you’re that person. You might feel like it, but trust me when I say that you are so much more. You are not just anger and sadness. You are incredibly sweet to me. You are attentive and gentle and funny. My god you are so funny. You are smart, even if you don’t like to admit it. He’s not gonna be disappointed in you. He understands, Billy. You lost your mom when you were so young. He understands, trust me. And he loves you. So much. I love you. So much. Let yourself be loved. You deserve it !”

When he kisses her then, it feels like no kiss has ever felt before. She loves him. She loves him. No expectations and no conditions. Holy shit, she loves him.

“ I love you (Y/N) “. He really really does.

- OOO -

Billy is so nervous he could throw up on the spot. Though that would indeed make a horrible impression so he tries not to let it get to him too badly.

His grandfather gets up from the bench when he sees Billy approaching again. Before Billy can say anything, he’s wrapped in a warm hug. It’s so familiar. It feels like home.

My god, he missed this so bad.

“ Look at you kid, all grown up. No wonder miss (Y/N) has taken a liking to you. Except for that strange haircut maybe. “

Billy looks over his shoulder and catches (Y/N)’s glance before throwing her a wink,

“ Well she’s pretty spectacular too. “

“ She is yeah. So tell me what I missed, kid. It’s been a while.“

And so he does. Everything. The good, the bad, all of it. It’s hard and it’s emotional but once it’s out there, it feels like the guilt is finally take from him. The weight on his chest feels like it’s only half as heavy as before.

Then his grandpa smiles and pulls him into another hug and whispers the words that Billy wanted to hear for so long “ Your mom would be so proud of you. “

He hopes it’s true. That his grandpa knows what he’s talking about. That maybe his mom is smiling down at him from wherever she is.

But there’s another woman in his life now. One that comes with warm smiles and soft touches and laughter and eyes so bright they could light up an entire town.

And that girl is not his past. She’s no baggage. No sob story. No shadow of perpetual grief hovering above him.

She’s his present. He hopes she’ll be his future.

Because she’s everything. And he’s enough.

[not-all-the-prayers]

Alright y’all here we go with the family drama/skeletons. I have categorized them and they will be in short story form lol

mom’s side of the family:

growing up I was always told that my grandpa had two sisters. I knew that his dad had died when he was young but never heard much about him. when I was about 13 or 14 I was at my grandparents’ house and when I was coming back to the living room from leaving the restroom I heard my grandpa and my mom discussing someone named Jim. I had never heard the name before but from their tones I got the feeling I shouldn’t ask in front of my grandpa. I asked my mom later and she told me Jim was my grandpa’s brother. apparently when their dad died Jim, as the oldest, was expected to become the man of the family. but instead he ran away in the middle of the night without telling his brother, sisters, or mother where he was going. through the years the family only had the vaguest ideas where he was at any given moment. it was almost an unspoken agreement among the entire family not to discuss Jim and it became like he never existed. tbh he’s a fascinating enigma for me. (sorry that one was so long)

I have one cousin who’s 27 years older than me (my mom’s sister is a lot older than her and she had him young) but several years ago, during one of our fallings-out with her sister, my mom admitted to me that when her sister was 17 she got pregnant. for context this would’ve been around 1965. my grandparents disagreed on how to handle the situation. my grandma wanted to send her away (to one of those “camps” I guess??) but my grandpa refused. this caused a TON of tension in the house to the point where my mom (who was 4 at the time) has almost completely repressed all of it. in the end my aunt stayed at home for the duration of her pregnancy. there are no pictures around this time and my aunt wasn’t allowed to walk at her high school graduation. the baby (a boy) was adopted out immediately after he was born. it affected the relationship between my aunt and my grandma right up until my grandma died and was NEVER talked about. my cousin has no clue he has a half-brother somewhere in the world. (shit that one was long too my bad guys)

my mom’s great aunt was in a polyamorous relationship for years. she lived with a man and a woman (who were married to each other) but always just described them as her “roommates”. both the woman and the great aunt had a child by the man. keep in mind this would be interesting now (though obviously we’re leaning towards being more accepting of this type situation) but this would have started in the mid 1920s

dad’s side of the family:

really only one story here but it’s a biggie and will be super long so be warned. so my dad had been told since he was a young child that he was adopted. things were a little weird because the story was never consistent but he really didn’t spend much time thinking about it. when he was 39 he got a call from a man claiming to be his half-brother. my dad was skeptical but he knew enough details about my dad and his family that my dad was curious and agreed to meet him at his workplace. it was immediately obvious that it was true (they looked a lot alike, same exact eyes). turns out he also had a half sister (that’ll be relevant shortly). anyway, my dad’s newfound half-brother tells him that they have the same dad and shows him pictures. the man looked exactly like my dad. my dad is fascinated at this point and wants to know more so they get the half-sister involved cause she knows more details. then things get really fucking wild. turns out my dad’s biological father is his adopted father’s cousin. they had the same grandmother. my dad knew the grandmother only he called her “aunt ollie”. when he was really little he spent a lot of time at her house playing with two kids younger than him. the two kids? his half-brother and half-sister. none of the kids were ever told how they were related. but there’s still the question of the biological mom right? well my dad’s half-siblings didn’t know who she was and their father and anyone else who might know had passed away. so my dad still wondered in the back of his mind but focused on getting to know his newfound family members. flash-forward a little bit to my teenage years. everyone around me was noticing what I wouldn’t notice till after my dad and grandma had died. I bore a shocking (and I mean shocking) resemblance to my grandma. comparing pictures from her teenage years and mine we could be twins. it’s really incredible. so then my mom decided to tell me a “theory” she’d had for years that had already started forming in my head as well. most likely, around 1960 my grandma had an affair with her husband’s brother and it was all covered up in a really fucked up way. unfortunately there’s no one alive to ask that would tell me the truth so I’ll never for sure but the proof is pretty convincing on its own.

parents (this one will be shorter I swear):

when my dad enlisted in the army my mom met another man and called my dad at basic training to break up with him and promptly married the other guy who turned out to be a fucking lunatic so that didn’t last and my parents ended up back together a few years later and had me (before getting divorced but oh well)

god this got way longer than I was expecting sorry guys

[isidar-mithrim]

Letter for beyond

It’s time to go to bed at the Potters’ house. This evening, though, instead of picking a bedtime story Lily wants to read to her father a letter for another Lily, one she’s never even met. 

[Read it on Ao3]

___________________________________

Letter for beyond

“C’mon, kids, it’s half past nine, time to pick up the Gobstones and go to bed” said Harry, clapping his hands.

Al and James looked at him with wounded expressions – as always, nothing could make the two of them agree as fast as teaming up against him.

“Please, dad, five more minutes!”

“Yeah, I’ve almost beat Al!”

“You haven’t beaten me in the least!”

“I’m going to beat you, I’m going to beat you” chanted James with a smug grin.

“Cut it, boys” said Harry. “You know the rules.”

Unsurprisingly, the kids huffed and rolled their eyes, but they stop pleading. They were about to pick up the Gobstones from the floor, when Lily startled them all.

“I won!”

James and Al suddenly forgot their annoyance and looked astonished at their little sister: Lily was beaming with a toothy smile and her two missing teeth, the winning Gobstone held in one hand.

“Good for you” said Harry, amused. “I reckon you deserve a double bedtime story, then! But only if you’ll put your pyjamas on very fast” he added with a wink.

Lily stood up in an instant with a radiant smile, kissed Harry’s cheek and rushed upstairs.

Harry gazed for a long moment in the direction she’d disappeared, his heart swelling with affection, and then he turned towards the boys. They were putting the Gobstones away with pouting expressions, letting the marbles drop loudly into their box.

“I’ll give you the time of two fairy tales for the rematch, but when I’m back I want you on your feet right away, ready to go to bed. Understood?”

“Yes! Promised! Pinky swear!”

“You’re the best!”

“Don’t make me regret this” he said, pointing his finger at them while looking right into their eyes with a warning gaze. “Mum wouldn’t be happy to hear you didn’t behave while she’s away.”

They nodded eagerly, and for the umpteenth time Harry was amazed by how effective Ginny’s parenting could be, even from afar.

Harry opened Lily’s door to find her diligently under her cover, laying on her side to face the door, with only her bedside lamp light up.

“Here you are” he smiled. “I knew you’d be ready to sleep.”

“Ready to sleep?” asked Lily with wide eyes, jumping into a sitting position. “But you said you were going to tell me two stories!”

“Of course, of course. That’s way I’m here for” he explained with patience, while Lily relaxed. “I just meant that I’m very happy you were already under your blanket, exactly as I asked.”

She nodded pleased and laid again, her red hair spreading on the white pillow. It was a slightly darker shade than Ginny’s, but at least as beautiful.

Harry pushed the armchair in the corner of the room closer to the bed and leant in, kissing her temple.

“So, what fairy tales would you like?”

He laid his gaze on the piles of books piled up on the bedside table, wondering if she was going to choose <i>The Little Mermaid</i> for the third times in a week, and above them he spotted a little roll of parchment with messy inky fingerprints marks.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, that’s a letter for grandma. I’ve been practising with my writing!”

“Well, that’s great! But what do you have to tell grandma that can’t wait tomorrow?” he asked with amusement.

“It’s not for grandma Molly!”

Harry stared at her, his smile fading, and Lily frowned perplexed.

“It’s for grandma Lily” she spelled out, as it was the most obvious thing in the world and he was just being particularly thick about it – which was probably true, on hindsight. “I haven’t got one hundred grandma, have I?”

Harry shook his head, forcing himself to smile. “No, I guess you don’t.”

Suddenly, Lily’s expression brightened. “Would you like to read it? I can give up on one of the story if you do, so it won’t get too late, and it’s short anyway, ‘cause I haven’t that much to tell her because I don’t know her, and –”

“Lily.”

She looked at him with concern. “Yes?”

“I’d really, really love to read it.”

“For real?” she asked, her eyes wide in excitement.

“Of course. But, you know what? I reckon you should be the one doing the reading” he added with a soft smile.

“Oh, yes, that’s a good idea, I have to practise with that too!” she said delighted, sitting up again and adjusting her bedside lamp to point it to her lap. She then grabbed the parchment and unrolled it, clearing her throat.

“Dear grandma Lily, do you know that we have the same name?! Dad said it’s because of the hair, because it’s very long and red! He showed me a picture of you and you’re very very beautiful, and you have hair like mine but darker, and also a bit like my mum, even if you’re dad’s mum, not mum’s mum.

But I don’t have green eyes like you and dad and Al, and even if dad says he loves mum’s eyes and mine I think your eyes are beatifuler. Oh and if you don’t know that already Al is my middle brother and he looks a lot like dad, and my mum’s name is Ginny, and she’s a Quidditch journalist but she was a Chaser before James and she’s a Weasley even if now she’s a Potter like you and me, and then I have a bigger brother called James as dad’s dad (your husband). And then there’s Teddy who isn’t really my brother but it’s like he is, even if he doesn’t lives here but with his grandma Andy. And I also have a lot of cousins and aunts and uncles because mum has a lot of brothers, and also grandparents Molly and Arthur where we stay all together at the Burrow.

Now I don’t know what else to write because I don’t know you very well and I don’t really know what you do and where you are but dad says you’re beyond the veil with uncle Fred and Teddy’s parents and grandpa James, and mum told me Peanut can find anybody anywhere so I hope he can find you too, but I don’t know if you have ink and parchment so don’t worry if you can’t answer. You think we will meet each other one day? Dad says we all will one day and I’d really like to because I don’t know you and I’d like to know you, but I love you anyway because dad showed me your photos on his album and he loves you too, I can tell. Bye bye! Lily (as you!). Piss: I’ll say hi to Al and James from you if you want!”

Lily let the parchment roll on itself with a delighted smile, clearly pleased by her effort, then she looked at Harry, and her smile faded. “You didn’t like it?” she asked, her voice low and uncertain – wounded, even.

Harry swallowed, overwhelmed, and forced himself to put on a convincing smile. “On the contrary, honey. I loved it very much” he said, sincere. “You know, I think it’s one of the most beautiful letter I’ve ever read” he added, thinking of the letter he’d found years before in Sirius’ old room.

“Really?” asked Lily, a spark of excitement back.

“Really.”

“Then why do you look so sad?”

Harry sighed. “Not all the good things are cheerful, love.”

Lily squeezed his hand, looking at him with the same sweet, compassionate smile she had done to Ron when he’d said the fairy godmother had been the one to lose the crystal shoe.

*

Harry was reading a wizarding novel on the couch, but his mind kept going back to the letter Lily had wrote, and to his promise to send it on her behalf, a promise he was already regretting. He’d slipped it between the last page and the back cover of his book, and it was hard to resist the urge to read it over and over. He knew he was meant to share it with Ginny, and he hoped the match she was attending wasn’t going to last even longer that it’d already done.

He startled awake when the mantlepiece light up with green flames and Ginny appeared in their living room.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty” she said, grinning, and Harry felt an immediate wave of affection and relief.

“Hey” he smiled, moving the book from his lap. He stood up to greet her with a kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist, and Ginny kissed him back, her fingers tracing the hair on the back of his neck.

“So, what happened to our agreement not to wait up after midnight?” she asked conversationally.

“I’m sorry, was it me or you first words to your lovely, lonely husband were to mock him because he was indeed asleep?”

“You forgot funny” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “And anyway, it’s the location that counts, not the actual sleeping. Bed beats couch, I’m afraid.”

“I reckon the outfit should count as well, though. The only reason I agreed was the prospective to find you in already your nightgown after a long day at work.”

“Well, I’ll concede you look sexy in this pyjamas too” said Ginny with a shrug, tracing a flashing lighting bolt with a finger.

“George will be very pleased to know that.”

“I’ll make sure to let him know” she said with a wink. “The kids?”

“Safe and sound, I send them to bed after a heated Gobstones match. I reckon James’ pride is a bit shaken, he was beaten by Lily and Al.”

“Ouch.”

“He’ll live” smiled Harry. “How was the match?”

“The Harpies trashed the Wasp” she said smugly. “Too bad that I have to pretend to be impartial.”

“Oh, that must be hunting.”

“Yeah, I bet I won’t be able to sleep for the whole night” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Harry felt his heart pumping faster, even if he knew perfectly well that that had to wait.

His hesitation must have shown on his face, because Ginny smile faded, and she eyed him carefully. “Is everything ok?”

Harry swallowed. “It is. But…” he trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Ginny disentangled herself from the hug, intertwining their fingers to pull him gently towards the couch. Harry picked up the book and let himself drop near the armrest, resting his forehead on his fist.

Ginny sat facing his side, her legs crossed on the sofa, but she didn’t push him, and he couldn’t help but be amazed yet again by her ability to get him.

He sighed, letting go of her hand to take the letter from the book and offering it to Ginny. “It’s from Lily.”

Ginny glanced at him, half wary, half curious, and began reading with narrowed eyes – they were wide and shining when she’d reached the end.

She put the letter down, laying a hand on his thigh and squeezing lightly.

He shrugged. “I’m ok.”

When Ginny caressed his face he closed his eyes, relishing her gentle touch for a long moment before taking her hand in his, grateful that she hadn’t call him out for his obvious lie.

“It’s just… Do you think… do you think she should get an answer?”  

She sighed, throwing a glance at the letter laid on her lap.

“I’m not sure she really expects an answer. And if she do expect it… Well, I think that if she’d get one now, when she’ll be old enough to understand she won’t be happy that we made it up.”

Harry hadn’t considered it in that prospective, but Ginny definitely had a point. “Yeah” he nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Unsurprisingly” she teased, but smiling softly.

Harry let out a low chuckle, but now that he’d start sharing, he needed more reassurances. “I thought… I mean, I was sure she’d understood that… that they’re all gone…”

Ginny considered it, her gaze wandering around the living room, and Harry circled his thumb on the back of her hand, wondering if she was thinking about Fred.

“I think she understands, in her own way” said Ginny eventually. “She just… imagines them all together somewhere else, somewhere where we can’t go.”

“It does’t seem like she thinks she can’t reach them, though, does it?” he asked, gesturing at the letter.

Ginny took a deep breath. “I think she just believes they can listen to her, somehow. And… she isn’t wrong, is she?”

Harry thought of the whispers behind the Veil, of the misty figures appearing from Voldemort’s wand, of the ghosts, of King’s Cross, of the Resurrection Stone.

“No… she’s not. But I… sort of promised her to send it?”

“Oh, Harry…”

“Yeah, I know, I know, I already regret it, but… she was so excited about it… I just…”

“Wanted to make her happy?”

Harry sighed. “Yeah.”

Ginny stay silent for a long moment and Harry waited, hoping she could help him figure out what to do.

“I don’t think she will be upset, if you’ll tell her the truth” she said eventually.

Harry looked at her, bewildered. “I should tell her that I made her a promise I knew I couldn’t keep?”

“You should tell her that we can’t reach them with paper and owls, but that doesn’t mean they can’t listen to us.” Ginny took a deep breath. “When you told me about the Stone, I was… it was difficult to know that something like that existed. And I know it doesn’t brings people back to life, not really, but the mere idea that I could talk to Fred again… that I could make George talk to him again, or that Teddy could meet his parents… There were times it hurt so much that I almost went in the Forbidden Forest to look for it, even if I knew I’d never find it…”

Ginny trailed off, but Harry knew she was gathering the strength to add something else, and he stayed quite, holding her hand tight.

“Sometimes… sometimes I even wished you’d never told me…”

He froze, feeling like she’d just squeezed his heart in her hand.

“… but then… after a while… I was glad you did, and not only because it meant a lot that you where sharing so much with me, but also because I realised that… it means they still exist, somehow, and they… I don’t know, keep an eye on us, or something…”

In that moment, Harry saw a clear imagine of his mother reading Lily’s letter, a radiant smile in her face, her green eyes shining. He felt his own eyes glistening and blinked hastily. He removed his glasses and pressed a hand on his face, but Ginny straddled his lap and moved his hand away with gentle firmness. She kissed his eyes, then his cheeks, then his lips, and Harry let her cherish him until everything became blissful oblivion, soothing tenderness and aching love.

***

“Good morning!” said Lily cheerful, her little feet stumping fast on the floor.

Harry had barely stirred when he felt the mattress wobbling under her daughter’s weight.

“Morning” he mumbled, taking his arm off Ginny’s waist so Lily could crawl between them. He kissed her temple, making her some room.

“Hello, honey” said Ginny, rolling over to face them.

“Hi, mummy!” exclaimed Lily, hugging her tight. “Do you know that I beat Al and James at Gobstones yesterday?”

Ginny chuckled. “So I’ve heard.”

“And I wrote a letter to grandma Lily, and dad was happy but also sad and he said he’d send it!”

Harry sighed. He didn’t expect this moment to arrive so soon, but he was glad Ginny was there too. They shared a glance, and she nodded encouraging.

“Yeah, about that…”

“You already sent it?!” asked Lily, sitting up, her eyes widened in delight. “How much will it take to get there?”

Harry sat up as well, laying an arm on her shoulder and pulling her to his chest. “Actually… well, er, I thought a lot about it, love, and I remembered that… that I’ve tried something like this before, when I wanted to talk to my godfather Sirius, but it… it didn’t work, and… I’m very sorry, but the truth is, I don’t think Peanut knows where to find your grandma.”

Lily lift her head to look at him, and his stomach clenched when he took in her trembling lips and teary eyes. “But… but I thought…”

“I know, love. I thought that too, but… I was wrong. I’m very sorry.”

Lily hide her face against his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, and he hugged her tighter. “I just wanted her to know me” said Lily, her voice muffled.

Harry swallowed, a loss for word.

“She does know you, love” cut in Ginny with confidence. “And she may not be able to receive any letter, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know that you write to her, or what you wrote.”

Lily sniffed, but let Harry go to turn toward her mother. “How do you know?”

“Well, I know she loved daddy very much, and daddy loves both of you very much, and that’s enough to me. You see, the ones we love never really leave us.”

Lily moved her gaze between her parents, her eyes narrowed as she had to make sure she understood it well. “So… I can write her more letters?”

Harry swallowed. “If you want.”

“And she’ll know I did?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“And what should I do with the letters if I can’t send them?”

Harry was taken aback by the question, but as always, Ginny came in to help.

“You know… I think I may have an idea.”

**

“I want to buy lilies!”

“Merlin, I wonder how you could come up with something so original, Lils. Color me impressed.”

“Don’t be mean to your sister” scolded Ginny.

James rolled his eyes in annoyance, but mumbled an apology, and Harry suspected Ginny had instructed the boys to be particularly well behaved and accommodating.

“Can we buy lilies, then?” asked Lily, tugging at his sleeve.

Harry looked down at her. “Of course we can, honey. Why don’t you ask the florist to show you what they have?”

While Lily did so, Harry threw a glance at Al, who was staring at some beautiful red roses in a corner, rapt. Harry reached him, crouching down to level their faces.

“You can pick something too, if you want.”

“For real?”

“Of course.”

Predictably, when James realised Al was choosing something as well he wanted to do the same, and then Lily insisted that their grandparents would have been upset if only the kids would brought flowers. As such, the Potters eventually got out of the shop with five different bunch of flowers.

The cheerful bickering atmosphere changed as soon as they got into the cemetery. The kids got quite, sensing they had to keep their loudness in check. Lily and Al searched for Harry’s hands while they were stepping inside, but James put on a stoic attitude, offering to take Harry’s flowers which such unexpected thoughtfulness – ‘So you can hold their hands, dad’ – that Harry felt the urge to hug him tight.

They walked in silence, and Harry let the memories flow in. He recalled the first time he’d been there, on Christmas Eve, and the first time Ginny had gone with him and he ended up telling her about the Peverell and the Deathly Hollow, and then the time he brought Teddy. He wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea of bringing his kids here, but he also hoped they’d appreciate his will to share something like that, as Teddy usually did. But Teddy situation was different, because he had an awareness of death that his kids didn’t possess, and if on one hand Harry didn’t mean to sugarcoat their life, on the other hand he felt a fierceness urge to protect them from anything that could hurt them, mentally even more than physically. It had pained him to crush Lily’s naive concept of life and death, but at the same time he wanted her to understand, to be prepared.

“Harry?”

Ginny’s gentle voice brought him back to reality, and only then he realised he’d stopped in front of his parents grave.

Lily tugged his hand, and Harry crouched beside her. “Can we put the flower down, now?” she whispered.

“Of course. Go on” said Harry, encouraging her with a gentle push on her back.

She stepped forward and kneeled on the ground, carefully laying the bunch of lilies with her magically sealed letter tied to it, then she studied the grave.

“Lily Potter” she read out loud, moving her index finger under the name. “Born thirty January, one hundred… one nine hundred…”

“Nineteen-sixty, Lils” said Al, his voice low. “It’s her year of birth.”

“Oh… She must be even older than you, dad!”

Harry was momentarily abashed by her statement, but when James chuckled he ended up smiling as well.

“Well, that’s really odd” he said, winking at James. Harry could swear Ginny was biting back a grin as well.

“I think that’s explain why you have grey hair” teased James, and this time Ginny barely stifled her laugh.

“What are you laughing for?” asked Lily, a bit annoyed.

Harry felt like he’d been caught doing something terribly inappropriate and cleared his throat, regaining his composure.

“I’m sorry, Lily. My mum and dad were both born in Nineteen Sixty, that means they were twenty years old when I was born. So, yes, they’d be twenty years older than me, if they were still alive.”

“Oh… that’s nice.”

“But they were younger than you are now, right? When they…” James trailed off, shrugging.

“When they passed away?” helped Ginny.

James nodded, his gaze on the ground.

“Yes, they were twenty-one” said Harry. “I reckon they didn’t have any grey hair yet” he added, playfully poking James, who smiled back, sheepish.

“Would they be as old as grandma Molly and grandpa Arthur, then?” asked Al.

“No, they would a bit younger” said Ginny. “Mum and dad already had all seven of us when it happened.”

“What does it mean, the last enemy that shall be desor… dersoyed” – “Destroyed.” – “destroyed is death?” asked Lily, her finger pressed firmly on the marble.

“I believe it means that when a person dies, the people that loves them keep loving them nonetheless, and for all their life.”

“Do you still love them, then?” asked Al, turning his head toward Harry.

He was taken aback by the question, and sensed Ginny’s worried gaze upon him. He took a deep breath. “I do.”

“Even if you don’t remember them?”

Harry nodded to James, fearing his voice would crack if he’d try to speak.

“You should put your flowers near mine, dad” said Lily with a gentle smile, standing up to take them from James an handing them to Harry before hugging him.

And so, all the Potters laid their colorful bunches on the ground, one by one. It was nice, thought Harry, exchanging a glance with Ginny, who reached his hand and squeezed it with affection.

“I think they will be very happy” said Lily cheerful. “I hope they’ll get the flowers very soon.”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

“Get them? How could they –”

“James” cut him off Ginny with a firm but kind tone, lowering to look Lily in the eyes. “Honey… we can’t really give the flowers or the letter to them, but… it’s like they’ve already got them. We can’t send them anything, and we can’t see them nor hear their voices, but they… they can feel us, and coming here we’re saying to them that we still love them very much, and that we’re still thinking about them, even after all this years.”

“But… but then they must be really sad that we didn’t come sooner… What if… what if they thought we didn’t love them?”

“Of course they didn’t thought that” said James, putting an arm on Lily’s shoulder. “Mum and dad came, and Teddy too, and I bet they told them everything about us, and about how much we wish to have known them.”

“Exactly” smiled Harry, pleasantly surprised by James explanation.

“Can we back, sometimes?” asked Al.

“Oh, yes, please, I’d love to!” said Lily with renewed enthusiasm. “Can we, dad?”

“Of course we can” said Harry, moved. “Now, who want to see where my grandparents are?” he asked with a grin.

“You had grandparents too?!” exclaimed Lily. “We should have bought more flowers!”

Harry couldn’t help but laughing, thinking how lucky he was to have two Lily Potter in his life.

[the-sanders-sides]

inidan american (desi) logan

a sequel to this post because people asked for more and i decided that they shall receive (and also i love writing these)

fair warning, logans a bitter kid, and this isnt as positive and happy as romans post. ive experienced two different ways of being desi, one where i lived in fully asian and indian community and didnt even think id ever feel alone, and another where i moved to a place where i havent met another desi in like 7 years of living here in a 3 hour driving radius. in romans post i played into my first experience and how at home i felt. in the second experience, the one im in right now, i am much more bitter about who i am and not really knowing anyone who gets it anymore. so i play into that A LOT in this. so keep that in mind. (and he will get happier in a future part. m planning on making this into a series)

ok so first off. his name is logan sanders. people (mostly other indians) dont believe him when he tells them. he tells them they dont know indian history. they say they do. he tells them that the british fucked around (quite literally) in india for four centuries so of course english names would stick with that precise wording

sometimes when he’s annoyed enough and doesnt want to explain this for the millionth he defends himself with this russel peters skit (watch it, it’s hilarious) because it describes his family. to a T. 

he grew up in a community with not very many asians, and knew no indians outside his family so he felt a sort of disconnect to his culture

while his grandparents and parents would teach him about indian culture, he felt so distant from it since he knew no one outside his family who was indian, and since he didnt have any siblings or any nearby cousins to hang around with

he had visited india once but he was too young to remember it properly or too remember his cousins

the closest mandir was an hour away so that also limited the amount of indian kids/people he knew

he barely knew hindi because everyone in his family spoke english, especially in public

he felt guilty over the disconnect he felt and would always try to bridge it but would never accomplish this because it he kept losing passion since he rarely saw other people like him in the real world and in the media and he didnt see the point of trying

this all changed in eight grade when he moved next door to the Kumar family in a north indian street of some south asian blocks in an asian community

when his family first moved, the Kumar family invited the Sanders over to welcome them

it turns out the Kumar’s had a son who was the same age as logan

“hi logan! im rohan kumar! but i like going by roman instead of rohan!” 

this introduction pissed logan off 

he was seething because why would this kid who got to have an indian first AND last name change his name to an english one! why didnt he see the value of his name!

he knew right away that such a difference meant they could never be friends 

“im logan sanders, but thats all youll get to know about me because i see no use associating myself with someone as... well, ignorant, as you”

roman decides to whip out one of the swears his cousins taught him and whisper shouts “who are you calling ignorant, bhenchod?” 

 it became clear to him that this was new turf, and people on this new turf must be speaking hindi. and that he was the ignorant one if he couldnt talk in hindi. he made a vow to learn it as fast as he could to make sure this roman kid wasnt better than him

but, logan grits his teeth and says “you, and i know it must be true because you were too dumb to understand me the first time”

this evidently struck a sore spot in roman because he didnt fight back but just stalked away. logan smiled slightly, happy to have won that argument

logan asks his grandpa to teach him hindi and his grandpa gets super excited

they start lessons immediately and despite barely hearing it growing up, it’s as if his brain was made for this because he picks the language up amazingly fast and in a months time, while not able to speak back yet, he can understand most casual conversation

his first diwali in basically little india is the most magical thing ever

diwali at his old home was very quiet because there wasnt anyone around to celebrate with

everyone is so happy in this new home however. everyone is dressed up and all the houses are lit up and there are diyas everywhere and he doesnt want to admit it but the kumar’s have the best rangoli on the street and it’s because of roman and he knows roman did it because sometimes he’d stare out of his bedroom window while doing homework and have a perfect view of roman delicately working on it for two weeks

(the kumar’s front porch had been covered with tarp waiting for diwali to make sure romans precious rangoli wasnt stepped on or ruined. when it’s finally let up, everywhere where there could be art, there is. it’s insane how good at colors roman is, logan thinks)

diwali morning: 

he fights his parents because he doesnt want to miss school for diwali because americans dont have a day off for it. his parents set the clocks in the house ahead to make him think he overslept so he would skip school. (logan didnt know that his parents had submitted an excused absence form for religious reasons and that the school was very understanding. he thought it would be like his old school where he wouldnteven bother trying since he wasnt christain and the school was lkinda discriminatory)

they spend the morning in mandir and it’s nice. for once he doesnt feel different from his peers because he goes to mandir and not church or synagogue. he feels at home.

diwali afternoon:

the afternoon is spent with frantic cleaning and cooking and digging around for the diya’s that were still in boxes, packed away from when they moved

logan offered to find them all to continue with a diya science experiment he started two years prior. his theory was that the diya’s were multiplying and there were more each year despite no one buying anymore

this held true, because even though he could only find half of their diya collection, it was somehow more than the entire diya collection of two years prior. 

diwali evening:

theres a big potluck and everyone in the neighborhood is out talking to each other, looking at the decorations at everyones houses, eating samosas, and playing with sparklers. 

logan feels content

he makes a new resolve to learn more about hinduism. if this is what ti was supposed to be, then he never wanted to be away from hinduism. 

he looked at the metaphors and symbolism in everything and finally understood what his dad meant he told logan that hinduism is just science written in poetry and that string theory is written in the ancient texts

middle school in this new town is so much better than middle school in his old home. why?

a. doesnt get bullied for being a nerd

b. doesnt get called gay slurs 

c. the classes are harder 

d. much less racism

e. all of the above

soon enough, logans asking his grandpa to teach him how to cook Indian food

Logan spends the day burning dosas and making lopsided rotis

(eventually he gets the hang of it, and a he'll be cooking food for an infuriating Indian boy ;) ;) psst it's roman)

Speaking of boys

Coming out isn't an option for logan

He knows that his parents arent really religious enough to really look into hinduism and see that no, gays are not bad

But they are traditional and conservative enough to be homophobic

not homophobic as in spewing hate with the westboro baptist church at a pride parade

But homophobic as in "the gays are fine as long as they don't do it in front of me" kinda thing

So Logan stays quiet

the closet kinda sucks but i mean what can he do

it’s safer inside, and he as illogical as wishing is, he wishes that people would use their brains and realize there’s nothing wrong with gay

anyway

in school logan makes his first desi friend, who was dubbed as anxiety years ago and cant seem to get rid of the nickname and now has a whole complex about his name so logan doesnt know his name

logan and anxiety meet in the school library: logan studying and anxiety hiding

people dont like anxiety

especially non-indian kids

surprise surprise it’s an old buddy called racism, but anxiety’s story is for another time

(but even though no one really likes anxiety, whenever racist shit goes down, it has to go through roman)

so logan and anxiety become fast friends

and they make fun of roman (a+ bonding)

logan claims that roman is a hypocrite for changing his name to an english one while being so immersed in indian culture

anxiety doesnt dispute this, but says he has a past with roman

a past that involved getting stuck with the name anxiety

again, another story for another time

one day, when logan and anxiety are eating lunch they see roman destroy some homophobes who throw around the word f*g and keep calling caitlyn jenner, bruce jenner

logans chest surges

he’s all like “what?? emotions?? pride at roman?? is he better than me for being so open and standing up for what he believes in??”

gay panic basically

but logan masked it well and pushed it away

the next day roman comes to school with a pride patch on his jean jacket

logan feels like he cant breathe

logan is supremely jealous of roman.

he can be gay in peace

he can pretend not to be indian in a way that benefits him

and he’s not affected by stereotypes in the same way?? like what does this kid not have

and by stereotypes i mean

roman is the complete opposite of all indian and desi stereotypes: loud, flamboyant, theatrical

logan’s personality is exactly how the stereotypes are. he’s nerdy and likes science and math and it seems like he cant escape the stereotypes. they follow him. and he feels guilty that he likes science and math and is nerdy. 

as illogical as it is, he wishes he was different from how he is

but logan later learns that there are more than just his perspective on being desi and that every desi kid growing up faces challenges about it that are different than his, causing them to experience being desi differently

and logan will accept that, in another story at another time

for now, he’s just bitter. and as illogical as it is, he wishes the world was better

and now, i shall tag some people who asked to be tagged and some other desi’s who loved this because i feel like you guys might appreciate this too. also i love u. desi famders squad up.

@sssixeyedrunt @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @caterpiller-tea @xxxbladeangelxxx @snufflesthegrim227 @cloudchaser7 @thelowlysatsuma 

[thecagedsong]

Chapter 12: Home 

Hello Friends,

It looks like you’re cleverer than the Sphinx said you were. Good for you. You’ve set back my timeline, and not many can claim that particular feat, congratulations. Now it’s time to focus on Kendra, how to make the best use of her? So many ideas, none of them involve negotiating with light-lovers.

Until we clash again.

The lemonade had been yummy with just the right amount of sour. It was a shame their ball had knocked the pitcher to the ground. Seth had fumbled Tess’s pass, thinking about Ronodin’s note in the barrel. It had been in the barrel when they finally set down after leaving Wyrmroost. Now Seth was letting it distract him from distracting his cousins. The distraction wasn’t even worth it, as he still hadn’t found anything in the note that he could use that they hadn’t already thought of before now.

“Should we clean that up?” Seth asked. Knox hopped out of the pool to grab the ball, set the pitcher right, and jumped back in.

“Nahh, I just dripped a bunch of water on it, and what else are we going to do?” he replied. “Come on, another round.”

Dale had been able to construct a small basketball hoop while they were gone, but it was too short for anyone but Tess on dry land. Seth had suggested putting it over the pool, and it was much more challenging. It was Tess and Seth v Knox, and Knox was winning 6-3.

“Last point,” Seth said, “Then I want to grab something to eat.”

Tess grinned at Seth as Knox checked him the ball. He sent it back.

“Super secret surprise attack!” Tess yelled, jumping on her brother’s shoulders. With a whole lot of squirming, Seth managed to steal the ball from Knox, who kept crying “foul!” and made the final point.

“You cheaters,” he said, holding Tess up by the arm. She grinned.

Seth dunked himself in the pool one last time to cool off, then got out. “You won the game, that last point didn’t matter anyway.”

They got out and dried off, Knox collecting his basketball. Just as they were about to leave the pool area, Knox turned around and made a longshot.

“Nothing but net,” he said, pumping a fist. It was pretty cool, but Seth wasn’t going to let Knox know that.

“You have to get it now,” he pointed out.

“Worth it.”

Grandma Larsen made sandwiches for lunch. With the secret out, they decided to just live together in the main house. There was enough rooms, especially with Tess and Knox sharing the attic. This was the first time Seth was at Fablehaven and not staying there, but three was kind of a crowd, and he was a little proud that his Grandparents knew he didn’t need the protections of the attic anymore.

Or maybe they just thought he’d ruin the protections with his spotty record. Anyway, he was fine with the arrangement.

Tess went immediately to the Journal of Secrets after drying off and brought it to the lunch table. Grandma Larsen whisked it off the table as she set lunch down, citing that Kendra wouldn’t want sticky fingers over her journal.

“Any news from Agad?” Seth asked as the Sorensons came down for lunch.

Grandma Sorenson shook her head, “Your possible teachers are very limited. The Sphinx would have been ideal if, surprise, he hadn’t turned on us once again. This is the hard part, but we’ve been here before.”

“What about rumors of a Nova Song?” Seth asked, “Maddox know anything?”

“Just that he’d give an arm and a leg for one,” Grandpa Sorenson said, shaking his head. “He’s looking too, Seth.”

“Dale, Hugo, Hank and I made a lot of progress on the stables for flying mounts. Tomorrow I was planning on going into town for some more literature and games to populate them with and keep our Luvian friends entertained,” Grandma Larsen offered. “Anyone interested in coming with me?”

“Will there be ice cream?” Tess asked.

Grandma Larsen pretended to think about it, “I suppose. It’s going to be a lot of stuff to carry, my helpers should be rewarded.”

“Can I invite one of my fairy friends?” Tess asked, getting excited.

Grandma Larsen shook her head, “I’m sorry sweetie, but the magical creatures can’t leave the preserve.” Tess opened her mouth to argue, “Even if they promise to come right back. It’s an important part of the treaty. We can also pick up some new seeds though, for your friends that like flowers.”

“Okay!” Tess said, “I’m going to go tell them right now!” Tess ran into the garden, passing Tanu as he entered.

“Sorry!” Tess called, racing past.

“Welcome Tanu, were you and Hugo able to find what you were looking for?” Grandma Sorenson asked.

“I found a good tract of land for an Oak grove,” Tanu said, “It’s a little hard to tell exactly what breed of oak tree the seeds are, or the requirements for living wood, but the more humid climate near the marsh should accommodate most varieties. With the help of some fairies, the grove will be set up in a couple of years. We have ten seeds, and to plant them all, we’ll need a bit wider space than currently available. I was hoping to take Seth this afternoon to negotiate with the Hag.”

“Sure,” Seth said. “Anything. Lowly Vatka was pretty cool. You’ll need to ask Tess about the fairies though.”

“Better take Hank with you,” Grandma Larsen said, “The caretaker has the right to visit once a year, and on demand. He’ll be back in half an hour or so.”

“I can come,” Knox said casually. “Help plant the trees.”

The grandparents exchanged a look, and Seth knew exactly what was coming. Weird that it wasn’t directed at him for once.

“Knox,” Gloria said, “The hag is most certainly one of the more dangerous creatures on the preserve. Her favorite pastime is lay false trails that send people drowning. And she’s old, she won’t take kindly to visitors, or our request to grow a forest on the edge of her land.”

“Anything Seth can do, so can I,” Knox said, puffing out his chest. “I was fine at Wyrmroost.” He turned to Seth, “Especially with Grandpa Larsen along, we’ll be fine. Tell them.”

Seth shifted uncomfortably. Grandpa Sorenson raised an eyebrow. “Well, its not up to me,” Seth said, looking down at his plate. “Grandpa and Grandma Larsen are caretakers here.”

He was hedging, and everyone knew it.

“I don’t believe this. Am I grounded or something?” Knox asked.

“Well, you did sneak into the dungeons and land yourself in one of the seven most dangerous preserves in the world on a whim.” Grandpa Stan said, “We aren’t going to reward that behavior, if that’s what you’re wondering. And then, if I recall correctly, you convinced two satyrs to take yourself and your 9-year-old sister across said preserve, using an untested magic item, again, without permission from either the caretakers or us, after the dragons had declared war on all mortal kind and your cousins especially.”

“But Seth did stuff like that when he was just starting out!” Knox protested.

The stares turned back to Seth, who groaned, “Yeah, and I was grounded to the yard tons of times for that. I left out those parts, but your actions have consequences. No, we don’t blame you for Kendra’s kidnapping, but they can totally blame you for breaking their trust and sneaking into the barrel.”

Knox looked around, and saw that no one was going to budge. Grandma Larsen looked a little like she wanted to offer to have him go shopping with her and Tess tomorrow, but decided against it.

“Fine,” Knox said, standing up, “I’ll be in my room then. No one will have to worry about me going anywhere. Let’s make the grounding real.”

He stomped up the stairs.

“That was rude,” Seth accused. “Why did you guys let him make me the bad guy?”

“Just a check to see how much you’ve grown, and as I saw it, Knox would only have listened to you,” Tanu said with a chuckle. “Make sure you have a pair of galoshes before we go.”

The fieldtrip in Hugo’s cart went much smoother than Seth had expected it to. Probably because it felt like years since Seth went off to do a single task that didn’t derail itself halfway through. He knew it was all Kendra’s fault when that happened. Seth led them through the marsh, not tricked by the false trails. They negotiated the boundaries with Gintra through Seth speaking her language, promising her two goats and a kid and a new cloak in exchange for the necessary land.

Seth nearly choked when Grandpa Larsen offered to give her a kid, but Tanu whispered that all parties involved knew that meant a baby goat, and they went forward.

Hugo stopped a ways away from the house.

“Hugo?” Seth asked, leaning over his shoulder, “What’s up buddy?”

“New people coming,” Hugo rumbled. “Dragon.”

Seth shared a startled look with the others.

“I have my dragon fear potions right here,” Tanu said, patting his bag.

“A dragon is too big a threat to the treaty to ignore,” Grandpa Hank said, “Fablehaven’s boundaries aren’t meant to deal with the magic of dragons. Hugo, take us to the dragon.”

Hugo turned and started in a new direction. Grandpa and Tanu downed their potions grimly.

“Could it be a wild dragon?” Seth asked, “I mean, Wyrmroost is the nearest dragon sanctuary, and Agad said it was fine this morning. I know there were some dragons who agreed to live in peace outside the preserves.”

“It’s certainly possible,” Grandpa Larsen said, rubbing the stubble on his face. “Unlikely. While the dragons are able to communicate with each other between sanctuaries, they are supposed to be completely cut off from their free kin, that was a stipulation. But it’s supposed to be impossible that there’s a dragon here at all.”

Seth remembered Celebrant’s victorious, swiping claw. He’d been hoping for a little break from dragons. To go back to dealing with demons and the undead for a bit, before coming face to face with another dragon, but he could handle it.

Hugo was cutting cross country in the way only he could. They didn’t talk anymore.

“Huh?” Grandpa Larsen asked, “The Naiad pond?”

Seth focused, and realized they were, in fact, approaching the pond around the hedge. Was it a shortcut or…

“Raxtus!” Seth said, climbing up to look over Hugo’s shoulder.

“Who’s there?” called the dragon.

“It’s Fablehaven! Who do you think it is?” Seth called. Tanu pulled him down when the archway nearly took his head, but he just grinned and popped up again. Sure enough, Raxtus was standing on the lawn. A silvery white dragon, he was about the size of Charlemagne, but much longer in the tail and neck.

“Hey Seth,” the dragon said, “I brought something for you guys. Oh, um, hi,” Raxtus said, bowing his head when he noticed Grandpa and Tanu get off Hugo as well.

“Raxtus, this is my Grandpa Larsen, and I can’t remember if you’ve met Tanu,” Seth introduced, “Guys, meet Raxtus, son of Celebrant and literally the best dragon ever.”

“An interesting recommendation,” Grandpa Larsen said, bowing, “Please call me Hank. I’ve heard much about you from my grandchildren.”

Raxtus turned to Seth, his eyes sad, “Mizelle filled me in on what happened to Kendra. Kidnapped by Ronodin and lost her memory? I’m really worried for her.”

“We’re working on it,” Seth said, “I promise.”

“May I ask why you brought us a canoe?” Tanu asked. Seth finally noticed the wooden canoe behind Raxtus. It was long and had swirly painted red designs decorated the sides.

“Is it a clever boat?” Seth asked, getting excited.

Raxtus tilted his head, “What’s a clever boat? No this is —” suddenly Warren appeared in the boat, lying down. Seth scrambled forward and touched him.

“Seth?” Warren asked. He blinked and looked around, “Right, Fablehaven. Good pick Raxtus.”

Warren climbed out and stretched. A few moments later Vanessa appeared and Warren helped her up.

“Home sweet home,” Vanessa said, doing the same stretching as Warren.

“I bet you’re honestly surprised by how much you mean that,” Warren teased, nudging her shoulder.

She lightly punched him back, “You’ll be waiting a long time Burgess, if you’re waiting for me to go soft.”

“It is good to see you two safe and well,” Tanu said. Vanessa and Tanu gripped forearms, while Warren went for the hug.

“We managed to get a small foothold back in the Cresent Lagoon,” Warren said, “We’re here to make our official report and recruit what help we can.”

“Better wait until we’re in Stan’s office then,” Grandpa Larsen said. “We can head back, and Hugo can carry the canoe. Raxtus, will you accompany us?”

The dragon shook his head, “I’m kind of running between sanctuaries and trying to keep tabs of everyone and my ears open for Kendra. I’m going to say hi to my adoptive mom and then head back out.”

The headed back, and Warren pulled Seth towards the back of the group.

“Kendra’s kidnapped again,” Warren said.

“At least we didn’t have to have a funeral this time,” Seth said. “And I have it on pretty good authority that Ronodin wants Kendra alive.”

“How good?”

“Bracken’s sister.”

“Pretty good.”

They walked in silence a few minutes.

“I hate not being able to help her,” Warren admitted, clenching a fist. “I had to be where I was, but I can’t help but feel like if I was there, I could have changed something. It always feels like this when it comes to Kendra, I’ve gotten sickeningly used to it. Honestly, are you doing okay?”

Seth really thought about the answer. Warren let him.

“I broke down pretty bad when she was taken,” Seth admitted, stopping so the others went on ahead. “And now, I don’t know, it feels more like when she was off artifact hunting and I was stuck trying to figure out how to crash her adventure. I don’t know if it’s because I know she’s being kept near Bracken, or everything is just too much for me to think of it like anything else.

“I’m kinda scared it’s all going to hit me again, and I’m going to fall apart. But if I keep busy enough, maybe I’ll be able to find her first.”

Warren put a hand on his shoulder, “Thank you for being honest. You’re tough Seth, possibly the toughest kid out there, but tough kids and tough adults need breaks, time to just feel. If you think you’re going to break, or you need to break, let me know and I’ll make space and handle things until you’re ready again.”

Seth’s throat was too thick to speak, so he just nodded. As they approached the yard his voice came back.

“And if there’s anyone tougher than me, it’s Kendra,” Seth said. “We fought over who would turn the Key of Forgetting, but she wouldn’t let me. She wanted everyone to know that she loved them, you and Vanessa especially. Thought I should share the message.”

It was Warren’s turn to nod.

They reached the yard and Tess ran up, “Look Seth! The fairies taught me how to make a flower crown! They did special stuff so there are no loose ends! Put it on!”

Warren stepped up beside him, looking amused, and Tess went silent.

“Oh, who’s this?” Warren asked, crouching. “You make a great flower crown.”

Tess looked at the crown in her hands, then at Warren. She squealed and thrust the crown at him, then ran away.

“That’s Tess, little cousin on Mom’s side,” Seth said. “She’s fairy struck, and probably just developed a crush on you.”

“Well, that’s a backstory I’m dying to hear,” Warren put on the flower crown, and posed for Seth, “Does the red make my eyes pop?” he asked fluttering his lashes.

Seth laughed, and Warren wore the crown into the house.

They were in Grandpa’s study, and Warren and Vanessa hadn’t been missing out on adventure. Rampaging Triclops, magic pearls, and dragons to spare, all dependent on island spirits to keep them in line. Island spirits shaped like those big nosed stone heads.

“But most important,” Warren said, “We have reason to believe Ronodin corrupted a pool there.”

“Why would he do that?” Seth asked.

“We don’t know,” Vanessa said with a smile, “And while it is possible there is some significance to the pool that the caretaker is unaware of, it is also likely that his work is not done.”

“Which means he might be back,” Seth said, getting excited, “Or we might find one of the caves to the Underking’s domain nearby.”

There was a sudden ringing sound, and Grandpa Sorenson fished out a cell phone. “Agad, yes, Warren and Vanessa just caught us up. We were about to start brainstorming solutions on our end. Tanu is ready to head out again, and we were trying to figure out who else to send.”

Grandpa froze, then nodded. “Why am I entirely unsurprised? Anything on Kendra?”

It was frustrating to sit there, and not be able to hear everything. He wasn’t the only one. Vanessa and Warren were gripping hands, his grandmothers both looked tense, and Grandpa Larsen was swirling his glass.

“Okay Agad, I’ll let them know.”

Grandpa Sorenson sighed, “I won’t hold you in suspense. Talizar’s den is at the Crescent Lagoon. Seth, you mentioned that this demon approached you in a dream scape. Do you think you could negotiate with him into learning more about your abilities without making things worse?”

He thought back to Talizar. Both himself and Kendra’s demon friend vouched that he hated dragons more than enough to want Seth to win the war against the dragons. He seemed fairly neutral on Seth’s demise, and hurting people in general. It would stink that Talizar was right, and Seth would seek him out in the real world, but that wasn’t enough of a reason not to do it.

He would need to be fully trained to use Lady Luck, or sneak into the Underking’s domain. Talizar had made some pretty big promises. With a plan and some help, and now that he wasn’t in a vulnerable place like the dreamscape, he might be able to walk away from this experience. He had four months by Mizelle’s deadline.

“I don’t want to make a mistake like I did with Granulas,” Seth said. “Talizar didn’t seem so bad, but neither did Granulas. I think I could work something out, but I’m also going to be missing something, or I’ll trust him and I’ll get someone else killed.”

“If it is a matter of trusting your judgement,” Vanessa said, “That needs to be dealt with now. I have seen second guessing kill too many allies. You need to learn that trust can be pieced apart. That is necessary in interacting with demons. You may trust that you have a similar goal. You do not trust them as you would another human. You do not trust them with things you care about. If you can’t piece apart the trust needed to learn from everything else, then you should not be attempting to negotiate with a demon at all, and we will find another way.”

Could he do it? Life had taught him the answer to that question.

“I can do anything if it means helping Kendra,” Seth said, resolved. “With some help to make sure I’m not leaving any loopholes, I can handle Talizar.”

“I believe that I will be an asset, in that case,” Grandma Larsen said, “Like Vanessa, I spent years working with the Society of the Evening Star, I second what she has said about coming out of a deal with a demon, and have much to add besides. While tracking Ronodin and attempting to retake the preserve, my goal will be to keep Seth safe. Is that satisfactory?”

Grandpa Sorenson eyed her suspiciously, “Why do I feel like this is how you claim full ownership of the Sombrosa Swords?”

Grandma Larsen shook her head, “Stan, we both know darn well I should have been their owner back in 83’. If it takes a mission protecting our grandson for your pride to finally hand them over, well, that’s on your conscious.”

“I had you pinned,” Grandpa Sorenson retorted, “the ref would have finished counting if the umbrakas hadn’t gotten loose!”

Grandma Sorenson put a hand to her head, “Stan, just give her the swords. They haven’t been much use hanging in our bedroom. We’ll be the nice, diplomatic grandparents.”

“With crossbows,” Warren added.

Grandma Sorenson smiled as his help, “Yes, with crossbows and broadswords and leadership positions. They can be the secret agent grandparents with butterfly dao, rapiers, and masks.”

“So…Seth, Vanessa, Tanu, Gloria, and I should be getting back to Crescent Lagoon?” Warren checked.

“Dress for warm weather,” Vanessa advised.

A/N: Shorter chapter for Seth, finally. I love the boy, but he has been hogging the action so far. Mostly set up, some comeuppance, some favs, lots of character. Chapter thirteen is the chapter I’ve been dying to post though, easily one of my favorites. Look for that one, cause Kendra gets to see someone besides Ronodin!

[carlisle980]

My grandfather’s calling hours were today

It was much more difficult than I expected. Just two weeks ago I hugged him and kissed his cheek and he was warm. Not today, and he didn’t smell like him anymore.

My dad called me yesterday just as I had landed here, and he got about two words out before he got choked up. He loves my grandparents. Always will. They’re not attached to what my mom did. I have seen my dad cry twice before that in my whole life; once when my grandpa died and then when Mom left. I’m his girl and it hurts me when his heart hurts.

I am pleased that when the family were putting together the slideshow for today, they used the songs I suggested. I didn’t expect that, but they were ones I know meant a great deal to my grandfather: “Blue Skies” and “Funny How Time Slips Away” by Willie Nelson. I can’t get through that slideshow without crying though, even now that I’ve seen it a hundred times anyway.

My sister and brother are here now and it’s a relief to me. I don’t do friends easily, but they are my friends, and I’m so glad we can all be together with Nanny. My cousins are filtering in and I love it when we can get together now that we’re all grown up.

I don’t fit anywhere in this world. I fit with these people. I fit where all I have to do is show up and my Nan couldn’t be more thrilled.

The funeral is at 10 tomorrow morning and I should be sleeping. I will, maybe. A little, I hope. I just can’t get past being sad because he felt so awful since my uncle died last year that this is what he wanted. I mean, he died because his heart gave up. Cardiomyopathy. But it’s what he’s been wanting for a year and a half. I’m happy that he’ll see “nothing but blue skies from now on.” I just wish he hadn’t had to feel so bad.

I don’t know what I’m saying. I’ve got three glasses of wine in me and I’m just exhausted and nobody’s saying much that makes sense right now so I guess I don’t have to, either.

[darknessprinceofasuretha-blog]

The Seamless Boy Born In Blood

Notes: my soul intent is to horrify everyone who reads this but if it’s not scary to you? Oh well I tried my best to scare people. I hope you are disturbed too. This is what happens when I’m allowed to write whatever I want and I’ve been reading too many stories of horror and murder and this happens.

⚠️ Trigger Warning: this contains four semi detailed death scenes, mentions of suicide, Murder, insanity, profanity ! Tread carefully, if you have a weak stomach I do not suggest reading ! ⚠️

The boy sat in his parents blood, his cheeks tear stained and his hands bloodstained he had been sitting in his parents blood for hours days even and no one has yet to find him, how fitting for him, don’t you think? His eyes are blue his hair light pink, his mother's hair red and his father’s white. He was the direct result of his mother and father trying desperately for a baby and mother was so happy when she figured out he was coming and he was healthy unlike his miscarried siblings who lived for a max of thirty minutes or less after birth.

The boy had a perfect life now it meant close to nothing because of the fact that both of his parents were taken away from him so brutally and he hopes that he will be able to recover from this tragedy but who knows it basically depends on who took him in. it was seeming to get darker and darker and darker, as footsteps and worried voices grew louder, louder, louder. Though he had not the energy to care he had been with his parents rotting corpses for five days now, the smell was rancid.

The boy you will know as Reimlas Dorlana, five days ago witnessed his parents being brutally murdered in front of him. His mother sawed in half and then chopped into little pieces to be fed to fish though they beheaded her and kept her head, his father torn apart limb from limb and also cut up into tiny pieces that they were going to try and make the boy eat, they took his father's head too, even went as far as cutting out his tongue and digging out his eyes. Though why did they leave him alive? To suffer the burden of knowing the murderers of his parents? They were close friends they were jealous of his mother, so they killed her, though the behavior leading up to them killing his parents didn’t surprise him.

The boy was so weak he wouldn’t make it if paramedics didn’t show up soon. The door slammed open to reveal the face of the young man who lived next door but he couldn’t do anything at that point he then blacked out and he couldn’t remember what happened after that he woke up in a hospital bed. The next thing he knew he was being towered over by an extremely kind nurse who tended to his wounds, he too got wounds for trying to protect his mother which resulted in him getting hurt.

She could not yet fathom the psychological horrors that he just went through, she never will until she watches her parents torn limb from limb, tongue cut off and eyes dug out, just to be squished under a shoe. Oh, evidence the clothing would be burnt by now. That alone will put him through years of therapy, though even that will not ease the pain of seeing his parents murdered in front of him.

Every time it seems he has something good he seems to just lose it. Just like his sanity he’s begun to question it, he has lost all feelings, maybe it’s for the best, if he did feel things maybe he would act a bit more normal? Reimlas didn’t know nor did he care, he can’t seem to care about anything anymore other than his cat.

Yet the thought still is chilling when his mother died she smiled as if she knew it was coming, yet she didn’t care? Maybe but the motive for her and her husbands murder is unknown to the police but Reimlas knew everything he would not be mocked by the details so he simply just left he did not care for what the police found for they would mock him. But he was not of age to leave on his own, having both of his wings broken he was given to his grandparents and they were murdered too. The same way his mother and father were they were beheaded though this time grandma was just torn to shreds intestines everywhere blood was dripping from the ceiling, the intestines hung up as if a child was going to swing in them. Grandma had her eyes in her mouth and tongue cut down the middle and put in her eye sockets, that alone made Reimlas throw up. Though you didn’t see what happened to grandpa they broke his neck hung him and disemboweled him, he was in one piece other than grandma.

It was sickening he knew who did it but he couldn’t do a single damn thing, or they’d kill his cat, If they killed his cat the last thing tying him to his sanity will be gone and he will go f*cking insane, also he didn’t want his cat to be dead too so he kept quiet on the sidelines and it just never gets better. He’s slowly going insane, he can no longer take the mistreatments he’s done with it all. At this point to Reimlas he thinks that these people think it’s a game, who will become insane first?

Apparently it would be himself. Because if he told a single soul he would become labeled insane that’s how this world works if you say something someone else doesn’t believe they will fight you over it. But if you say something that is right, people have enough money then you will be the insane one. But that’s what the world has come down to, if you have money you will survive if you don’t then you’re irrelevant. It’s almost like saying only the fittest survive and the weak die, but that wouldn’t be the case at all.

Reinmlas was so done with the world what could he do? Slit his throat and die? No he isn’t going to go insane that’s what he thinks anyways and the thought just never seems to be getting better, it just seems to get more distorted. Reimlas woke up and seen his cat was dead, hard in his arms and he went out to bury mittens and said goodbye. Something seemed to break inside of him and he gently grabbed some of his pink locks and pulled starting to laugh maniacally, tears of sorrow, joy, and laughter he was breaking, he was finally going insane.

You know that moment when you’ve held something secret for so long, it’s starting to break you? That’s what Reimlas was experiencing at the moment he was going insane because he kept the truth from everyone now the only things that he remotely cared about are dead, but now it’s time to reap what had been sown Mr. and Mrs. Johnsonis.

Mind you Reimlas has went through multiple courses of study throughout the years so it wasn’t just that, he’s now a young man, he is a forensic scientist and he has a lot of degrees in the specific fields, his teachers even said they wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled off the perfect murder one day and that’s saying something sadly. Reimlas hasn’t been the same after that day, his emotions are all faked because he just doesn’t feel anything, gratification for his work does nothing either.

Reimlas was going to murder the Johnsonis, but he had an even better idea. Though at this point he wasn’t even human anymore, he murmured to himself as he twirled a scalpel on his gloved finger. “I am a monster..born in blood but something oddly reminds me of home, the place my parents were murdered, though something doesn’t feel right, I don’t think I’m even human anymore, though life doesn’t have to be fun, I suppose it only has to be lived and that’s the end of it.” Reimlas said throwing his scalpel and it shatters a pot. “The guilt of what they have made me will be enough to eat them alive.” He’s right if someone feels guilty enough for what they have done they will try and repent for said sin. “Though this game is over now... I win.”

Reimlas had a horrific smile come across his face as he started to laugh manically again. He broke completely, not even looking at the deep cuts on his wrists could get him to stop and even when looking at them he laughed harder. “Weakness is a sin, it’s top to stop being weak HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.” Reimlas started twitching as he laughed, he reached into his pocket to grab his freshly sharpened scalpel and drove it into his leg, it cut into him like butter like he anticipated, he didn’t scream or cry he simply just stopped laughing.

Reimlas let the blood on his fingers fall to the ground as he held the wound he created it wasn’t that deadly. He lifted his hands to look at them and he immediately got flashbacks of that small room he was crammed in with his parents dead and rancid smelling bodies, he was crying, traumatized.

Reimlas got up and wrapped up his wound and headed towards the door with his keys in his hand and gloves on, a smirk on his face. It’s time to pay the Johnsonis’ daughter a visit. Reimlas got in his car loosened his pink locks opened the mirror and then did his make up and grabbed his guitar, the Johnsonis Family think that Reimlas has forgotten the crime they have committed against him but no he hasn’t in fact he thinks it’s fitting to say, an eye for an eye.

Reimlas closed the mirror and the thing it was on before starting his car and backing out of the driveway. Reimlas still lives in his grandparents neighborhood so he didn’t exactly go anywhere the house his parents got murdered in still belonged to him, people were fighting him over the house and losing terribly. Reimlas sighed he needed to put on an emotional mask real quick which he achieved by smiling to the old lady that’s just a hag and then he waved to the newly married couple who were watering plants together up each other’s ass.

To be clear the neighborhood that Reimlas lived in is for the rich people to live no poor people or middle class allowed here. Giant houses and mansions anything you could think of is probably here. Reimlas dodged a cat with his car that he almost hit and killed, he would have tried to be upset if that happened because that’s a normal response to killing something. Reimlas pulled into the driveway of the Johnsonis house and got out grabbing his guitar he made his way to the front door.

He rang the bell three times to have the door answered by the youngest daughter, Lola, Reimlas leant in and kissed her lips, her parents were home but were passed out. This is what he has to endure for five more seconds before she takes him up to her room. It’s very girly and pink, neon fucking pink. And he hates her room so much but he never says a word.

‘Think like a forensic scientist on a crime scene what am I looking for?’ Reimlas thought before he covered Lola’s beautiful blue eyes and pushed her down on her bed, he had blind folded her, made her move into a comfortable position and told her an extremely sad story, his backstory and made her cry.

He still had gloves on as he seized the scalpel he had earlier sharpened but he didn’t use this one to stab himself, he made her take the scalpel she didn’t realize what it was and he told her it would check her heartbeat it had to be jabbed onto the place where her heart was.

She was stupid to believe it, killed herself instantly because she made her own heart burst. ‘That will be ruled a suicide.’ Reimlas said in his head and then he got up making sure no evidence was left behind and then he grabbed his guitar and casually left the room.

The brother how did he take care of him? He gave him a drug that makes you claw your own eyes out and itch until you bleed, the dude just shot himself in the head. He found the easy way out of the suffering and Reimlas smirked. ‘Two suicides that must be linked to something don’t you think?’ Reimlas thought grabbing his belongings and leaving. ‘Nothing extraordinary needed to happen just revenge and it feels good, I hope you guys like being childless. Like I liked having no mother and father.’ Reimlas thought as he walked out and laughed running a hand through his pink locks and then he left before the neighbors seen him.

[jarienn972]

Curse of Undoings - part three

This third installment isn't as heavy on the whump, although we do still have Killian in chains. There's a huge clue given here about the Black Fairy's plans and we learn that Killian isn't the only one who still has his real memories. Might he have an ally out there?

Tagging @killian-whump @hookaroo @castielamigos for the update

From the beginning: Part 1  Part 2  Also on AO3 and FF.net

With no way to know if it was day or night, Killian had no inclination of how much time had passed. He was aware that he'd blacked out from the pain at least once, but for how long? He knew he couldn't actually sleep as it was impossible to find any comfortable position, which was likely part of the planned torture. Laying on his back wasn't feasible with his skin ripped open and still seeping blood - and probably pus by now. His ribs ached if he tried to lay on his side and laying on his stomach was nearly as agonizing as being on his back when the heavy chain dragged across the raw flesh. Oh yes, this all had to have been the intent, furthering his agony. His throat was dry and scratchy as though he'd swallowed an entire desert but there was no relief in sight. He'd finally resigned himself to sitting upright, knees drawn up and tucked under his chin to give his aching head a place to rest.

He nearly jumped at the sound of the steel door being unlocked, squinting as it was pulled open, not even bothering to disguise his fear of what would await him next. A feminine form appeared in the doorway, but this was not Emma. This time, his unwelcome visitor was Fiona, the Black Fairy herself, attired in a sharp, tailored black pantsuit that in all appearances, was likely purloined from Regina's closet. Her hair was coiffed into a tight, businesslike bun and had Killian been able to speak, he would have asked her if she were here to gloat. She seemed to sense the question anyway, responding with a mocking grin.

"Well, aren't you just a pathetic sight, Captain?" she chuckled as she took a step inside the cell, careful not to get to close to any chains that might scuff her patent leather heels as she held her hands clasped demurely behind her back. "I see Emma did quite a number on you already and I'm sure there will be so much more to come. Such vitriol there…" She paused to have a laugh at the early results of her ministrations. "Oh, I know you'd love to tell me that your True Love will win out, but I wouldn't be so confident of that if I were you. I may have outdone myself with the amount of loathing I instilled in your lovely bride…"

Killian shifted positions, straining against his multiple restraints while growling angrily at the mastermind of this curse.

"Oh, don't bother wasting your energy, Jones," Fiona quipped as she wrapped the manicured fingers of her right hand around the chain tethering his collar and yanked down on it, forcing his head back so he'd have to look directly up at her. "This is so much fun! And as soon as Emma kills you and severs your bond of True Love, I win." She drew her left hand from behind her back and revealed the object she'd been hiding from view – a snow globe containing a tiny castle amidst a forest scene. "You see, all of your fairytale friends are imprisoned here and as soon as Emma acts on all of that hatred towards you, they all vanish. Everything gets undone and then, it becomes my story to re-write as I see fit. All it takes is for Emma to put an end to her True Love and everything is mine...

"Considering the beating she's already given you and your present predicament, it would seem that the memories I implanted in her of you killing her family are proving quite effective. She sees you only as a cold-blooded killer and it will only be a matter of time until she acts on all of her festering anger and hatred. Do try to make yourself comfortable until then, Captain, but I seriously doubt you'll be here much longer."

Fiona released her grip on the chain, allowing it to strike the open sores on his back intentionally as she cackled, exited the cell and locked the door behind her, the echo of the heavy door slamming resonating through his entire body. It did get him thinking about what she'd said though – she needed to destroy True Love to seal her victory. It explained why he'd been kept here in Storybrooke to be the fodder of his suddenly homicidal wife who viewed him only as a murderer. Emma believed her family to have been slaughtered by him yet in truth, they were trapped inside an enchanted snow globe, not unlike the way Jasmine's kingdom of Agrabah had been placed in stasis for centuries when she'd run off to the Land of Untold Stories.

Would there be any way he could get through to Emma? Convince her that he was really her loving husband, not the criminal she believed him to be? Certainly, parts of the fallacy were based in truth, but he'd put that man behind him to make himself worthy of her. His Emma was still in there somewhere, concealed behind all of the Black Fairy's lies. He just had to find a way to reach her before she unwittingly destroyed everything she loved.

Having taken out some of her frustrations on her prisoner, Emma decided to return to the Sheriff station to relax a bit before round two, entering the squad room with a satisfied smile turning up the corners of her lips. While Hook hadn't provided her anything in the way of actual information regarding her parents' murders, she'd enjoyed taking out ten years of aggravations on him. She'd return later to interrogate her prisoner further but at the moment, she had a few other things to attend to, the first of which was locating a clean shirt. She dug into the stash of emergency clothing she kept in her bottom desk drawer after discovering that a splattering of Hook's blood was staining her shirt. Eh, it was a small price to pay to look into a killer's eyes and punish him for his crimes. She didn't think much more of it as she unbuttoned the baby blue blouse and slipped it off, momentarily crouching in her office clad only in a camisole until she found a deep wine hued sweater that she pulled over her head, kicking the drawer closed with her toe as she stood back up.

Had her real memories been intact, she would have realized that the garment she'd just donned was one Killian had given her. He'd enlisted Henry's assistance to acquire it for her after he'd seen her admiring it in a magazine advertisement. The fabric still bore traces of both her perfume and a hint of his cologne from one of their last rendezvous in her office, but now, her cursed self barely recognized the scent. It was just another sweater to her, but it certainly held some familiarity to another person who'd retained his memories, not that anyone was believing him.

"Henry? What are you doing here?" Emma asked as she turned to spot her teenage son lurking in a corner of the squad room.

"I was looking all over for you, Mom," Henry replied. "You didn't come home last night…"

"Sorry, but you know yesterday was a hard day for me… I slept at the old loft…"

"Your wedding day was a hard day?" Henry asked, confused by her odd response. He'd known people were missing from the town, but until now, he wasn't sure what else the curse may have done.

"Wedding? Henry, did you forget to take your meds again? You know quite well that yesterday was the tenth anniversary of your grandparents being murdered…"

"Mom, Grandma and Grandpa aren't dead, I'm sure of it. They're just missing from the curse, you know, like half the town?"

"Okay, kid, now I know for sure that you didn't take your pills this morning. You're having delusions of curses and fairytales again, aren't you?"

"They're not delusions, Mom. You know it's all real…" Henry argued, worried that now that he'd located one of his mothers that he might have even bigger concerns. "It's all here in the book, for now, at least."

"Ugh, Henry, I swear I'm going to take that book away if you keep getting so caught up in fairytales! They're fiction. Happy endings don't exist in the real world, although at least now that I've found Jones, I can finally put one awful chapter behind me - as soon as he's sufficiently punished for what he did."

"You found Killian?" Henry asked both excitedly and a bit timidly.

"Killian? We're calling murderers by their first names now?"

"Murderer? Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Seriously, Henry, you know damned well what I'm talking about! Killian Jones – the vile bastard who massacred your grandparents a decade ago – we finally captured him and he's locked away where he can't hurt anyone ever again."

"Mom, no… That's not true. That's just what the Black Fairy wants you to believe. This is her curse. She wants you to forget the real Killian – to forget that you love him…"

"I think it's time I made you another psychiatric appointment. These fantasies of yours are getting a lot worse. Love him? You must be growing more insane… Look, right now, I want you do go home and take your meds, mister. That's an order. If I find out you didn't, I'll have to force you to take them and you know I don't like to do that…"

"Okay, mom," he conceded defeat. Whatever the Black Fairy had implanted into his mother's head was a lot stronger than he'd imagined. She believed that her True Love had murdered her parents and he could hear the bloodlust for revenge in her voice. "I'll see you at home later," he said as he backed out of the station, his mind swirling with thoughts of where she might have Killian locked away. If he could locate his stepfather, maybe the two of them together could break the curse and foil Fiona's plan, whatever it might be.

Henry scampered out of the Sheriff station, but he didn't exactly go straight home as he'd promised. He headed first to the town park, climbing to the top of the play castle where he'd always liked to come when he needed to think. He tossed his backpack onto the floor as he leaned his back into the slatted wood wall, getting a little more comfortable before opening the pack to retrieve his precious storybook – his family's legacy. Placing the book on the floor of the play castle, he opened it to the center, disturbed to see that even more of the image was deteriorating, portions of it missing. He flipped through several more pages that were also gradually fading away.

Was that what this curse was all about? Undoing all of the stories? Erasing all of the lessons learned? He knew that his grandparents and his other mother were missing, but he didn't think for a moment that they were dead. Half of Storybrooke had gone missing overnight, probably swept away to another realm, but he needed to know why. What was Fiona up to? Why did she need Emma to harbor such hatred toward Killian? No way he could head home just yet. He needed too many answers.