#great swim. freezing cold only 1 other person in the water. but still: great

[rowenabean]

Really should go beach more often when I'm feeling sad about where I live, it is the best part

[ermwhattehsigma]

Wow, Day 2 already! For this day, I chose to go with all three prompts: Thermometer, Delirium, and "They don't care about you." This one's a bit longer than Day 1 and definitely more feely. I don't think Leon's and Hop's mother is bad per say, both as a parent and as a person, but... C'mon. We've all seen their living room in game. There is a clear favorite child!

——————————————————————————————————

Above him, below him, beside him, all around; The room is spinning. Colors and shapes swim on the wall, like water types floating by the glass in an aquarium, mindless and untroubled. Hop is very troubled, though. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side, glancing at the door. It’s solid, thick mahogany, and it’s closed. He squints his eyes. He can’t tell for certain, but it feels like every time he looks away and looks back to the door, it’s gotten a bit farther away. Slowly, inch by inch, it’s escaping him.

He groans and turns his entire body, facing the wall. He’s laying in bed, still in his pajamas and with the blanket covering him, but he’s cold. His body trembles as he wraps his arms around himself. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the shapes swimming on the wall, but it doesn’t work. Flashes of light and small spots dance across the inside of his eyelids, making him feel nauseous. When he opens his eyes, the room is darker than it should be, then brighter, and then back to normal.

The doorknob turns with a click. He realizes, belated, that this means the door has opened, and that furthermore, someone has entered his room. He turns onto his back once more and watches as that “someone”, his mum, approaches. She’s holding something in her hands.

“Open your mouth.”

He does so without resistance. Something long, thin, and cold is pressed underneath his tongue. Oh, a thermometer. He closes his mouth. That’s right, he remembers now. She was in here earlier, feeling his forehead, and said she would return to take his temperature. And if she’s here taking his temperature with a thermometer, that can only mean one thing: He’s sick. Really sick.

“Opunagn.”

What? His eyes wander to his mum, standing over him. Surely those weren’t words she just said. He makes a small noise, confused.

“Open again.”

Oh, those are words. He opens his mouth and the thermometer is taken. It helped to make his mouth feel cooler, so he’s a bit mournful that it had to be removed, as well as baffled. Why is his mouth so hot when the rest of him is freezing?

He hears someone click their tongue. It wasn’t him who did it, which means there’s only one other person who could’ve.

“39.1… That’s much higher than it was yesterday.”

Yesterday? Yes, yesterday. He had been sick then too, although his fever wasn’t nearly as bad at the time. It had started out with a sore throat and feeling somewhat more lethargic than normal, only for him to be bedridden by the end of the day. But how can someone be bedridden at nighttime? Isn’t that when you’re supposed to go to bed anyways?

It’s not nighttime, though. It’s afternoon of the next day, and he feels awful. His eyes slip shut. The last time he was this sick, he was much younger than he is right now. Still just a baby, as he might address someone of that age today, or as Lee might say. Speaking of his brother, he remembers distinctly that he was there the last time Hop was sick. Even though he was 13 at the time, and he was 5, he had been the one to take care of him. It was great. Well, being sick wasn’t, but being able to spend so much time with Lee was. He’s 16 now, so he’s a lot busier, what with him being the Champion of Galar. He doesn’t have time to be home and take care of Hop when he’s sick.

He wishes he did, though. He misses the way he’d brush his bangs out of the way when they got messed up from his tossing and turning. He misses how he would read books at his bedside so that he didn’t get bored, or if he was worried about contamination and couldn’t be in the room, he’d leave with him a game to play. He misses his brother, but even more than that, he misses the way he would care for him like he’s the most important thing in the world. It might be selfish to think such a thing, but he isn’t sure he can even define that word right now, let alone apply it to himself. His head feels like it’s stuffed full of Wooloo wool.

“You got that?”

His eyes open. It takes him a moment to adjust to the light to realize his mum is still there, and that she’s been talking his whole time. He flounders for a bit before remembering how to speak.

“H-Huh?”

“I said, you should stay in your room for the time being. Otherwise, Grams and Gramps might catch whatever you have.”

He stares up at her blankly for a moment, then glances at the door. It’s farther than it was last time, he’s sure of it. How is he supposed to leave when the door keeps running away? Not only that, but Lee was always quick to remind him that sick kids need plenty of bedtime whenever they’re not feeling well, even when they get restless. He doesn’t want to go against his words.

Hop nods. The movement is sluggish, his head feeling heavy.

“Good. I left some water for you on your nightstand, alright?” She tells him, and much to his surprise, she’s right. There’s a full glass of water on the table next to him. When did that happen? Did she bring a glass with her when she entered the room? He doesn’t remember that.

“Yell for me if you need anything else,” Her voice is quieter now, he thinks, but he can’t really tell since everything she says sounds muffled. “I love you.”

Now she’s just being silly. Leaving the room is one thing, but he’s fairly certain he could not yell right now even if he wanted to. He can hardly bring his voice above a mumble, really, let alone form coherent sentences. As she turns to leave, though, he realizes it’s now or never. He pushes himself up slightly, arms already shaking from the strain as he tries to sit up.

“Wait,” He manages to say at a decent volume, causing her to pause and look at him. He has to swallow, feeling his throat protest at the action as he asks, “Can you read me a story?”

Her expression is unreadable, not because of the way she looks, but because his eyes are playing tricks on him. He sees that now. Or, rather, he can’t see anything that’s too far from his bed. His mum is blurry and out of focus.

“A story? I thought you didn’t want me to read you those anymore.”

Such a notion strikes him as preposterous at first, but after a moment, he realizes that she’s right. He remembers having said such a thing to her recently about being too old for bedtime stories. Why he said that, he has no idea, especially considering nobody has read him one in a while. The last person to do so was Lee.

… The last person to take care of him while he was sick was also Lee. When was the last time his brother visited home? Trying to remember dates and numbers has become a monumental task. All of them are jumbled up in his head, just like his words.

He flops back into bed, his weak arms giving out. The impact makes spots appear in his vision, though only briefly. Apparently his mum takes this as an answer to her comment, which is great because he isn’t sure he’d be able to give her a proper response.

“Just get some rest. You’ll feel better with some sleep.”

He just woke up, though, Hop wants to complain. He’s only been awake for… a while! How long exactly, he has no idea, but he’s sure it’s been at least a few minutes. No, perhaps an hour? It’s hard to tell.

The door shuts. His mum has left. He wishes he had asked where she was going, or perhaps insisted she stay, but he didn’t. Speaking takes too much energy, and he gets the feeling his mum didn’t want to stick around any longer than she needed to. She must not want to get infected, he figures, or perhaps she’s worried about spreading any germs to Grams and Gramps. That’s why he’s alone right now, staring up at the ceiling, watching it shift and bend.

They don’t care about you.

The thought is sudden and frightening. His fingers clutch at the sheets, hands tightening into ironclad fists. He doesn’t like thinking about scary things like that, especially not now. Not while he’s exhausted and ill.

So, he won’t think about it. He loosens his grip on the sheets before pulling them over his head. He turns onto his side, bunching the fabric around him until he’s practically cocooned himself in the soft material. His head hits the pillow and his eyes shut.

There, he waits for sleep to overtake him, breathing gently as the shivering returns.

[kingreywrites]

Tradition

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 2624

New Dream Appreciation Week Day One: The Day of Hearts

Summary: "Hey Blondie," Eugene said quietly. She looked down at him as he turned around a little to face her more comfortably. "What do you think about… You know, this whole tradition about signing Herz Der Sonne's diary to celebrate your love?"

Note: not my fav fic for this week, but I hope you’ll like it!!

Read on ao3

@gleamful-lanterns @autumn-ravenclaw

-1-

Sat cross-legged on Eugene's bed, Rapunzel was scribbling intensely on the list of activities she was making to convince Cass that a double date with her and Eugene was the best thing ever, adding little doodles everywhere to support her arguments. Eugene, for his part, was lying down lengthwise on his bed next to her, head and shoulders sticking out. He was tracing mindless patterns on the floorboards under him, looking thoroughly bored.

"Hey Eugene?" she asked suddenly, pencil in her mouth.

"Yes?"

"An activity of swimming together under the stars, yay or nay?"

"Nay," he grunted.

"Really? Why?"

"The water's cold, and Cassandra in it would make it freezing," he grumbled, looking up to see her frown. "Hey, the water really is cold. Plus, this Andrew guy and Cass only just met in person, maybe it's a little too soon to put on swimsuits in front of each other for them."

Rapunzel pondered on that for a second, before nodding. Swimming would have to wait for another double date. She hoped the fifty-six other activities she had planned would be enough to compensate. This was so exciting, she thought with a grin, already fantasising about how great it would be to do all of these things with Eugene, while Cassandra could do them with Andrew.

"Hey Blondie," Eugene said quietly. She looked down at him as he turned around a little to face her more comfortably. "What do you think about… You know, this whole tradition about signing Herz Der Sonne's diary to celebrate your love?"

She beamed at him, forgetting her list for a second as she thought back on the story Big Nose told them not so long ago. "It's so romantic! I love the idea that, for generations, couples signed this book, and that their love will forever live through it!"

"I do too," Eugene answered with a soft smile. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but she didn't notice because right at this instant, an idea struck her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, lightening up visibly.

"Oh?" he parroted.

"Do you think Cass and Andrew are gonna sign the diary together? That would be adorable!" she squeaked, bending down to add book signing on the list. Oh, she was so impatient for this date - she just needed to get Cassandra's permission, but with so many fun things to do together, how could she say no?

When she looked back towards Eugene, he seemed to have deflated, and was looking at the ground again.

"Are you okay?"

He hummed, before grumbling: "You know, the Herz Der Sonne's diary is for really serious couples. Like, those that think that they're gonna spend their lives together, that kind of deal."

"Ah… And you think Cass isn't ready for that?"

"I- urgh," he groaned, "forget it."

She hesitated, sensing there was something more here, something she wasn't understanding. Gently, she put her hand in Eugene's hair and brushed it away, and he raised his head again to give her an honest and loving smile. She smiled back hesitantly, but he didn't add anything. After a few seconds, she decided to keep making her list of activities.

Just for Eugene, she added a couple manucure, knowing how much he loved these things.

-2-

There were a lot of cool things to do on the road - and a lot of less cool things too, like being in charge of the laundry day. Rapunzel had to admit, though there were plenty of tasks she actually enjoyed doing, laundry was… not one of them. It got her hair wet, and it took a long time to dry, and when she arrived in the castle, she had absolutely no trouble giving up on that.

On the road, though, there weren't many options. Thankfully, Eugene offered his help, so now they were both sitting near the river early in the morning, scrubbing clothes together in peaceful silence.

"Sunshine?"

"Mmh?"

"Do you know what today is?" he asked, meeting her eyes quickly before focusing back on the pants in his hands.

"Monday?"

"No I mean- the day today is, it's special."

Rapunzel frowned, trying to remember what Eugene was talking about. She knew it wasn't anyone's birthday, because if there was one thing she learned religiously, it was birthdays. It wasn't any day significant for their relationship either, she knew those by heart too. If Eugene thought she knew it, it had to be from Corona, so…

"Oh! You're right, it's Corona's annual pie eating contest!"

"Ah… no I think that's next week actually."

"Hmm." She put her hand on her chin, trying to think. "Is it 'share with your neighbour' day?"

"Uh… I think that was last week?" he answered hesitantly.

"... are you talking about the day of the snakes? Pascal's really not a fan of this one."

"We have a-- Corona really does have too many celebrations, doesn't it?" he groaned, but he seemed amused anyway, so she laughed.

They did have a day for everything, it felt. She didn't take part in all of them, but she loved learning about these traditions, and she loved even more seeing people enjoy themselves and having fun. Her favourite celebrations were the ones that were beloved by all of Corona, like the Gopher Grab, or-

"The Day of Hearts!" she exclaimed triumphantly, beaming when Eugene nodded. "Today is the Day of Hearts! Aww, I can't believe we're missing it, I'm sure people are having so much fun today!"

"I'm sure they are," Eugene agreed easily, looking back down at the clothing he was still washing. "And, uh, I-"

"I hope my parents are having a good day," Rapunzel said, a little quieter. She knew how much they loved that day, and thinking about it made her miss them more than usual.

Eugene cleared his voice, bringing back her attention to him. "Blondie, I was thinking… Maybe we could organise our own Day of Hearts? Here? Of course it won't be the same but-"

"Eugene, you are a GENIUS!" she jumped to her feet, too full of excitement all of the sudden. "This is the best idea ever, this is gonna be so fun!"

"I have my moments," he grinned, looking proud of himself. "So, what do you wanna do for our Day of Hearts?"

"Apple bobbing," Rapunzel announced without an ounce of hesitation.

"Of c- wait, what? Apple bobbing?"

She nodded eagerly. "I didn’t get to do it last year, what with Andrew turning out to be… Well, you know. I really wanted to, though, and I swore to myself that I would do it next year, which is today!"

"But you played that game in Corona already."

"Not on the Day of Hearts! It wasn't the full experience. Ah, and I'm sure Lance and Hookfoot will find it fun too, plus you know how Max is with apples," she said with amusement.

"Ah." Eugene seemed a lot quieter. "You want everyone to participate."

"Of course!" she sat down again to finish the laundry, a new energy in her actions. The quicker they did that, the quicker they could start. "That's really an amazing idea Eugene, I can't wait!"

He smiled, but it looked a little weird to her. It wasn't the proud and happy smile he had only minutes earlier. "I'm glad you like it, Sunshine."

"I love it, really," she insisted.

Eugene's smile seemed a little more genuine after that. And he actually had fun too during the apple bobbing - Rapunzel wasn't sure what he had been disappointed about at first, but she hoped it was resolved.

-3-

Oh, Rapunzel thought one year later, I am an idiot.

She… She had never really considered the idea that Eugene might want to spend the Day of Hearts with her only. She knew it was a day for romance, and couples, but- but she had always seen it as a day for other couples, for some reason.

Even these last days, when Eugene had asked again and again about signing Herz Der Sonne's diary together, she had been more focused on her parents' relationship than anything else. She didn't mind the idea at all, she even wanted to do it, but she didn't feel like it was that important in the grand scheme of things.

Then, King Trevor destroyed the diary. And she had decided to make a new book, thinking that it would be enough, but even now as she was painting the cover, she understood it would never be the same. All these names, these signatures written by people who wanted their love committed to memory, sometimes hundreds of years before today… All of that was gone. And though she liked to think that their love was eternal, and wouldn't be affected by it, she couldn’t help but mourn these lost memories. Corona was what it was now because of these people, and the love they had shared. They didn't deserve to be forgotten.

That line of thought led her to Eugene's insistence that they sign the diary, and suddenly she understood it more - understood the desire for their love to be part of a shared history, a shared tradition. They didn’t need it, but the gesture held a certain significance she hadn’t realised before. With this fact in mind, his behaviour from the previous years made much more sense all of the sudden. The propositions he hadn’t been able to voice, his frustration that he was quick to hide when she mentioned spending the day with other people… Eugene obviously cared about this celebration, and about the meaning it held for their love, and he had wanted… He had wanted to spend time with her, and she hadn’t even noticed. Surveilling her work on the new Book of Hearts, Rapunzel felt a pinch of guilt, but squashed it quickly. She knew Eugene would not blame her for not reading his mind, and instead of wallowing, she could make sure that this time, their love would be her entire focus for the remaining time.

Starting with the Book.

Smiling, she turned the still blank pages, imagining all the new names that would soon fill it. As much as she wished the ancient diary hadn’t been destroyed, she knew that love in Corona still had a bright future, and that these pages would soon be entirely covered by the signatures of couples old and young.

But there was one page she wanted to keep. One page that was for Eugene and her only. There was no hesitation in her mind when she chose the page in the exact middle of the book, because their love was the center of her own universe. Eugene was neither her beginning or her end; he was her entire life, the one holding her pages together. She hoped it was how he saw her too.

Going by the beaming smile he gave her when she gave him a quill, and made them sign the new Book of Hearts together, she’d say she got it right. He held her tightly against himself when they embraced, glowing with a joy she wished she had given him earlier.

She got distracted, after that, by her parents starting to recover their memories. They stayed together all evening, all four of them, just chatting together like they used to do when she first came to the castle - Rapunzel loved it.

When night fell, and her parents retired for the evening, Rapunzel and Eugene went to hang out in her bedroom. His bedroom was full of eggs anyway and, she reasoned, and it was easier for him to sleep in her room than to find an empty one.

This was a logical decision, see, not simply her wanting to cuddle with him all night.

"Hey Eugene? Can I tell you something?" she asked, once she had gotten in her more comfortable nightgown, and he had foregone his jacket and his boots.

"Of course," he smiled, shifting so she could sit next to him. "What's up Blondie?"

"I… I wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't understand how much the Day of Hearts meant to you before, and I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me."

"What? Hey, there's absolutely nothing to be sorry about," he immediately answered, hand going to her cheek.

"Let me explain?" she asked gently, and after a short hesitation, he nodded. "I don't think I did something awful, but I think I didn't pay attention to your feelings on this subject, and I'm sorry for that. The Day of Hearts is…" she paused, trying to find her words. "I think it's an adorable celebration, and I love how much people love it, you know? But I never really- I never related it to our relationship. I care so much more about… the day we met! Or our birthdays, or the day you first gave me flowers, or the day you let me paint on you, or- i think you get it," she chuckled, grabbing a strand of her hair to play with. "I didn’t think you wanted to celebrate the Day of Hearts with me, and only me, and I should have… asked you, instead of assuming."

She grew silent, and Eugene took it at his cue to resume stroking her cheek, eyes soft and somewhat amused.

"Again, I don't feel like you have to say sorry. I never asked you either, and you can't read minds, even mine. I… To be honest, I felt a little bad for caring so much about a day like this one," he chuckled, looking embarrassed. "I didn’t want to admit I'm a sap, I guess."

"That's part of why I love you," Rapunzel grinned. Eugene looked cute when he blushed.

"But also, you're right," Eugene added, an intense honesty to his words. "These moments we shared, they're all so much more important to me than this day will ever be. It's okay, if you prefer to spend the day uh… apple bobbing."

Rapunzel snorted at that, surprised. It wasn't long before they were both laughing, remembering the mess that their "homemade" Day of Hearts had been. Hey, at least it had been a fun day. Maximus had fallen into the river because he had been so excited to grab an apple.

"You know what?" she exclaimed. "Last time, I was the one to choose the activity, so now it's your turn! What do you want to do Eugene?"

"It's nearly midnight," he laughed.

"And? There's still a lot of things we can do at midnight! Oh, we could finally go swimming under the stars-"

"The water will be freezing!"

"You have a point." She put her hands on his knees, bringing her face close to his. "Come on Eugene, there has to be something you want to do!"

"I…" He took a second to think, seriously think, before he said hesitantly: "I wanna dance with you?"

"Oh!" Warmth spread in her chest, and she couldn't contain her excitement at this. "Eugene, I'd love to dance with you!"

She grabbed his hands and made them both stand up next to the bed quickly, linking her fingers with his as they stood close enough for her to hear his soft breathing.

"There's no music, though," he whispered.

As if summoned, Pascal popped his head out of his bed, and played with the little guitar he had on him all day. Just like that, they were laughing, and taking stumbling steps together as they swirled around the room. They were both barefoot, only illuminated by some candles and the moonlight, but they didn't need anything else.

Rapunzel went on her tiptoes to kiss Eugene, and he eagerly returned it, holding onto her waist as they slowly swayed together.

[luzarya]

Find You

Siren Au where Yuu is a siren.

summary: Yuu was sweeping, when they realized that something good had came, for once, in their life.

Their beloved had came.

ao3 link: here

warning: none

word count: 3,076

songs: this and this

part: 2/3

-> 1 (previous)

-> 3 (not out til next friday)

----

Yuu hummed a quiet melody as they swept the floor of Mostro Lounge. The lounge was empty, past its closing time.

Yuu began working not too long ago, their current contract having them work at the lounge ,and in exchange, Azul would do his best removing traces of Yuu’s presence at the beach. The local government had begun to search for the owner of the hypnotic voice before it took any lives, and had it not been for Azul’s interference, Yuu would probably have been in the government’s grasp.

And to be fair, Yuu didn’t want to be held by the government, not again.

The events that lead up to their current predicament, was truly, rather interesting.

Yuu’s voice switched from a hum to a quiet singing, as they recalled how they had to reveal their mer form to Jack, Deuce, Ace, and Grim. They all had been shocked, no doubt, but it soon quickly faded once they all realized it would play in their favor. Yet, the Leech twins had known, planning around it.

In the end, Yuu needed help from the Savanaclaw dorm, ultimately playing into their favor.

...then it landed them in another contract, not even a day after.

Yuu continued to sing, this time their voice now heard. No one was in the lounge itself, perhaps someone in the kitchen, Yuu figured, with the amount of noise they heard from that area. But they sang, and sang they did, of the song that their beloved once sang.

Yuu had promised an eternity with their beloved, yet they couldn’t fulfill their debt. Sometimes, they wished that their beloved would just magically appear, but they knew that it wouldn’t happen.

But one could hope.

They continued to mindlessly sing and sweep, thinking about their beloved, until a voice called out to them.

“Eh, Shachi-chan, why are ya always singin’ that song?” Floyd came out from the kitchen, a dish in hand. He had an almost dazed look- Yuu singing affected all, but to fellow mer, it was to a lesser degree. Nor did it take hold for too longer, either. The dazed look was already gone.

“What’s it to ya?” Yuu growled, unhappy that their singing was interrupted, although they eyed the dish. “What’s that?”

“Oh this? Just some shrimp alfredo.~”

“And you made it because…?”

“Just felt like it!~”

“I see…”

Yuu returned to sweeping, their song now a hum, as Floyd began eating his dish. It hadn’t been a minute, a freaking minute, until Floyd spoke again. At this point, Yuu was ready to strangle the mer. They just wanted to sing and hum their melody, was that too much to ask?

“Wanna taste, Shachi-chan?~”

Yuu eyed the dish, glaring at the eel mer, “What’s the catch, Leech?”

“Fufufu, answer my question, Shachi-chan.~”

Yuu let out a sigh, and placed their broomstick against the wall. They walked over and took the adjacent seat, looking at the plate. They didn’t look at Floyd, but they uttered their response.

“It’s a song from someone important.”

Floyd then wordlessly handed them their fork, not caring if they had used it earlier. Floyd only grinned as he waited for Yuu to take a bite.

Yuu grabbed a napkin, cleaning the fork before stabbing the shrimp, taking a bit. They took another, savoring the taste.

“Huh, this is pretty good, Floyd.”

“Fufu, I am pretty great, aren’t I?~”

“When you’re in the mood, that is.”

Floyd bellowed loudly, somehow finding Yuu’s statement to be funny.

Yuu looked quizzically at the eel mer, “Eh? What’s so funny, Leech?”

“Eheh, you’re pretty interesting, aren’t ya?~”

--

The selkie swam through the familiar shores, searching. It had been months since they last saw their beloved.

Too long, in fact.

However, they clung onto the hope that their beloved Yuu was alive- after all, they were alive when they left.

Even if Yuu hadn’t known.

Engel could still remember the carriage, how they tried to call out to Yuu, how something restricted their throat, unable to call for them. It was utter agony, unable to voice out their words of caution. They had saw Yuu go inside the carriage, and Engel was able to see their frightened expression as they entered. Engel wanted to help, yet the restraints didn’t allow them.

Even so, they sang their song. Their voice may not have the same power nor strength as that of Yuu’s, the ability to entrance mortals and to have their voice carry, but it didn’t matter.

They sang. Even if their words came out as a seal’s barks, honks, and growls. Even if no one understood them, they sang.

They sang for Yuu.

After all, they sang of an eternity together in this damned world, hadn’t they?

----

“Hey, Floyd?” Yuu asked, messing with the blood-filled glass bead of their seashell bracelet. Its warmth brought a sense of calm over.

“Hmm?”

“Do ya think Azul will help me bring someone on over? From my world, that is?”

Floyd titled his head, his eyes rolling upwards in ponderment, letting out a small “hmmmm”.

“Well, I’m sure you would have to ask Azul yourself, Yuu,” a familiar voice rang out.

The two mer turned their heads towards the direction of the voice. Jade simply gave a smile as he came closer, as he too, took a seat next to Yuu.

“I see…” Yuu muttered, lowering their head. They had a small hope, a small hope that they could bring their beloved to this world. They only knew that Engel was alive due to the warmth the bracelet emitted.

It was their only comfort in this foreign world.

“Fufu, do not fret, Yuu. Azul is surely bound to find an answer of some sorts, if you ask.”

“To the point of invention, Jade? After all, it was the carriage that brought me over. Can Azul even recreate such a thing?” Yuu retorted. What are the chances that they could bring over their beloved?

“Who knows,” Jade shrugged, “Speaking of which, the mirror was wrong, were they not?”

“Oh yea,” Floyd agreed, “Shachi-chan does have magic, so why’d the mirror say they’ve got none?” Floyd looked at Yuu expectedly, giving a toothy grin.

“Heck if I know,” Yuu replied, “Maybe ‘cause my magic is limited? I can only really use it for my voice and becoming mer, so-“

“Ehhhhh, you don’t use a potion?” Floyd looked shocked, his eyes wide and mouth agape. His brother shared a similar look of disbelief, although it was much more subtle. After all, they had used potions to retain their human form.

“I don’t? I’m half mer, after all,” Yuu replied. Did magic function differently here? If it did, it would explain as to why their magic went unnoticed. It would be simply that the magic mirror is only able to detect the magic native to this world, and as everyone knows, Yuu is no native.

“What’s the other half?” Jade titled his head to the side, much more curious about Yuu’s origins than before.

“Human.”

“Ehhhhh? I was convinced Shachi-chan was a full mer, fufu, now this is interesting, no?~”

----

The water above Engel became murky, radiating an odd warmth. The water was near freezing, and Engel’s body was becoming overheated. Yet, as much as Engel could, they couldn’t swim to colder waters. Something was pulling them in.

It was like magic.

Pain shot through all their body. It was nearly unbearable, that Engel almost had wished to die instead of dealing with the immense pain. It endured for the next five minutes, and soon, they found their body being forced out of the water, landing on the sand with a loud smack. Their body was sore, Engel letting out a loud painful whine.

They took a moment to adjust to their surroundings, noticing that they were on a beach, vacant and devoid of any life. However, they could faintly pick up a certain scent, one that distracted them from all their pain and inner turmoil.

And that was Yuu’s scent.

It was faint, oh so very faint, but Engel could still pick it up. The scent had sent them to overdrive, their blood pulsing faster than before.

Shifting out of their pelt, they hugged it close to ward off the cold night, as they began to track Yuu’s scent, venturing into the forest that bordered the beach.

Too many times were they nearly caught, too many times were they nearly hunted. No doubt, something knew that Engel was there, but that didn’t deter them. They’ll lose the hunter, sooner or later. It was just a matter of when.

Soon enough, they found themselves near what looked like an academy of some sorts, a gate blocking their way. Yuu’s scent here was strong however, an anxiety started to pool up in their stomach. What if they couldn’t get to Yuu? All those months of searching would go down the drain, and they would have no one to return to.

Letting out a pitiful sigh, they turned to leave, until they heard a voice call out to them.

“Who are you?”

Engel looked towards the direction of the voice, their black eyes locking with amber ones.

Engel didn’t say a word, yet the person came closer. It wasn’t until when they were directly across from them on the other side of the gate did Engel notice their features, as the moon provided little light. The person had white hair and wolf ears, and a somewhat dark complexion., They had a strong build that intimidated Engel, but judging by their relaxed pose, they knew they posed no threat. Despite that, even if they did indeed pose a threat, Engel felt confident enough of their own strength to take them down.

“I’m Engel,” the selkie finally stated, albeit reluctantly, “And you are?” Something about the beastman felt familiar, although Engel couldn’t figure out as to why.

“Jack. Tell me, why do you smell of blood?” Jack asked, his eyes now glaring at the selkie.

There was no visible trail of blood on Engel, but they did have some.

Their bracelet.

Engel raised their hand to show off their bracelet, of which had seashells and small, blood-filled glass beads. Mer often gave one another bracelets, with their scales, to their beloved. Yet, as Engel and Yuu were not the typical mer, they made do.

It was their only connection, and the only way they knew if the other lived. Engel could still feel the warmth of the bracelet, although it was beginning to grow warmer the more they came close to Yuu’s location. No doubt, Yuu was in this academy.

“The blood of my beloved. They have a similar one, although with my blood,” Engel stated, proudly.

Jack didn’t say a word, but he glanced around. “I know a way to get you inside, but you’ll have to trust me, alright?”

“You’ll do that?” Engel gasped, clutching onto their pelt with their free hand.

Jack looked at them again, and shook his head, “I’ll get you some clothes too.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Jack glanced behind Engel, and said, “We should hurry, I don’t think we have much time.”

----

“It’s time for me to leave, so I suppose I’ll be on my way,” Yuu began, as they got up from their seat.

“Leaving so soon, Shachi-chan?~” Floyd grabbed Yuu’s wrist, as the siren looked at them with great disdain. This was often why they avoided Floyd, the eel mer was too much for them to handle.

“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t, Leech?” Yuu turned to look at the other Leech brother, who was only giving them a close-eyed smile. Very helpful.

“It’s not that late, is it, Jade?~”

“It’s literally almost curfew, Sir Strangles-People.”

“Stay the night! You’re mer, you’ll fit right in.~”

“Pray tell, Leech, where would I sleep?”

At this question, Floyd let go of Yuu’s hand as they massaged the area. He seemed to actually be in thought, something of which Yuu rarely saw.

“Hm, would they sleep with us, Jade?” Floyd wondered out loud, his grin becoming bigger, showcasing all of his sharp teeth. Yuu wondered

“I’m leaving,” Yuu quickly said, already striding away from the brothers. The warmth from their bracelet grew, borderline burning them. Yuu furrowed their brows, the pain stinging yet not unbearable. Yuu didn’t stop walking, even when one of the brothers called out to them. As soon as they were out of sight, Yuu broke out in a run.

-----

Engel sighed happily as they fondled with the beads of their bracelet, its warmth growing stronger. It only ever did that after long periods of absence of the other bracelet, as the bracelets were made to function in such a way. Yuu’s mother had personally made the bracelets, carefully telling them what each sign had meant.

Warmth meant the other was alive and well. Absence of warmth meant death.

And burning, after being separated for a long time, meant the other was near.

And boy, was Engel just vibrating with a certain happiness. Months and months of searching, and finally their search bore fruit.

“Hot chocolate?”

Engel snapped out of their daydream, looking at the owner of the voice. It was Jack, whose hand was in front of her, with a mug of hot chocolate within its grasp.

“Ah, many thanks, Jack,” Engel grabbed ahold of the mug, pulling it close to their person. They adorned some ill-fitting clothing, although it was all that Jack could offer. At least, Engel mused, they had something on. Better to wear baggy clothing than to be out and about naked.

“How do you know Yuu?” Jack asked. It was still rather early to the night, for it was not for another two hours did Jack need to go to bed. It was by sheer luck that Jack had encountered Engel on his nightly jog. He could smell something, or someone, hunting the mer. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was obvious to him that the mer was in danger.

It took some explaining to the other dorm members as to why he brought a mer, of all people, inside to Savanaclaw. Even more, it was rather obvious that Engel didn’t attend the college, as everyone, to an extent, possessed a certain aura that only one could find at Night Raven College, after staying for a while.

Although, it didn’t take long for everyone to accept Engel, either. As strength was favoured amongst the beastmen, Engel had plenty. And tenacity, to boot. No doubt, had Engel been a native of this world, they would surely have been sorted into Savanaclaw.

“Hmm,” Engel pondered out loud, “As you said earlier, I’m not from this world and neither is Yuu.”

Jack nodded, not saying a word, intently listening.

“I’ll explain a few things of which are important before I begin. Our world,” a sip from the mug, “is harsh upon its inhabitants. Non-humans are rare and few, our numbers hunted to its current state. People are encouraged to kill or kidnap us, and use us for their dirty deeds.” Engel let out a hoarse laugh, but they continued.

“Thus, we thrive in secret, away from humans. We’re isolated, and we flee at any instance of human interference. Only a few humans are taken within our communities, Yuu’s mother being one of them. Truly, the Kishimoto family have been rather unfortunate.”

Jack raised a brow at the name, never having heard Yuu’s family name before.

“We met at sea, when Yuu was exploring their mer side. They were lucky enough to meet with their father’s side of the family, as orcas are matrilineal. Although whatever attachment they had with them was soon broken, by humans.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, taking in all the information.

“Humans started to fish in their territory, so they left, and left me in charge of telling Yuu. Thankfully, no one was harmed, however, it was found that Miss Kishimoto was a mer’s wife, that of a siren no less.”

Engel took a sip of their hot chocolate, the beverage slowly, but surely, becoming cold.

“Miss Kishimoto fashioned us these bracelets, and a few other trinkets before she was taken. I believe we were about… I say, 13 summers old by then? Yuu was taken in by my community, so we’ve been close since then. Only about a year ago did we… ah, become one another’s beloveds.”

“I see…”

“Did that answer your question?” Engel watched Jack’s expression, as he processed the new information. It was a lot, after all, Engel basically telling all of Yuu’s life in a very condensed summary.

“I suppose it does.”

-----

Yuu ran out from the mirror, their bracelet practically glowing and humming with life. They stood, searching for Engel. Yuu could smell Engel’s scent in the area, but they didn’t know where they were in.

It wasn’t until they felt their phone buzz in their back pocket did they find out.

Savanaclaw.

As quick as one can be, Yuu hurried and teleported through the mirror once more.

----

“I’ve told Yuu that you’re here, Engel, “Jack stated, as he picked up the mugs of hot chocolate, “I’ll be right back.”

Engel didn’t say a word, still clutching onto their pelt firmly. There was never a moment when they were without their pelt, the only other person ever granted permission to even remotely touch it, was Yuu.

Engel was unsure of how they would tell Yuu of the news from their world, nor was Engel even sure that they could return. Stories of transporting to other worlds always ended the same- no return to their home.

Yet Engel had a feeling that they wouldn’t mind that.

Anything better than that damned world.

----

Yuu ran, ignoring all the curious glances and glares that were thrown their way. They tracked Engel’s scent, and at last…

They saw Engel, pleasantly conversing with Jack, their pelt in their lap, and a content face. Yuu could feel their bracelet cool down, as did Engel. The selkie turned to look at their beloved arrival, tears pricking their eyes, and a smile making its way onto their face.

“It’s been too long, Yuu.”

Yuu ran to them, surprising Jack in the process, and hugged Engel.

“Too long, my love. Too long.”

….as Jack watched, unsure of what to do. He decided it would be best to leave the lovers alone, so he quietly left. Yuu knew the way.

[malgal7777]

Hiking with Tracy 2021:  Put it on the board...YES!

I did it!!!!   Woo-Hoo!  I walked 100 miles - almost in the whole month of April.  Since the last weekend of April was a bit of a snow bust, I had to finish my 100 miles this past weekend 5/1-5/2!  And what a way to finish...

I was feeling defeated last week when I wasn’t able to complete the 100 miles up in Tahoe.  I ended up being 17 miles short!  Can you believe that?  17 miles!! And I have a friend, let’s just call him “Barry” who was going to give me the whole $1000 if I was able to do it.  So I really felt down knowing I had blown it.  Blown all that training and blown it for the Ride4Reason fundraiser.  But “Barry” said hey, finish it up this weekend and you’re still in the running.  So I went back to the drawing board to find another route that would push me over the finish line.  But it was Bob who suggested I hike San Francisco.  AND, if I hiked SF, he would be encouraged to join me.  Bob’s a city slicker.  If he goes too far from being able to purchase a newspaper out of a metal box, he gets hives.  So, we mapped out a 10-12 mile route (I had to go easy on the guy) starting from the Ferry Building and walking the circumference of the SF peninsula to Ocean Beach.  It was FAN-TAS-TIC!  WOW.  Just WOW. 

We started at Justin Herman Plaza and since it was May Day we were hoping to find a rally or march happening.  And in perfect SF fashion, we were not disappointed!  Sure enough a large rally was gearing up to head down Market.  I’m going to assume the march was for workers rights, but it was actually unclear to us what their message was.  Not a good sign for a march/rally!

This first stretch of The Embarcadero was a bit sad.  Covid and the lockdowns have definitely taken their toll.  I know it was early and a weekend, but a lot of these businesses are still shuttered and closed.  And there’s a couple of homeless encampments taking over the street car kiosks.  The homeless.  Sooner or later I have to go there.  I can spout my love for California all I want, but it’s California’s biggest shame.  It’s no longer a skeleton in the closet, it’s all out in the open for all to see.  And I have no answer for it.  It’s always been here, since I’ve been here.  And it definitely has gotten A LOT worse within the past 10 years.  And it’s not just one issue, it’s the perfect storm of multiple issues coming together:  not enough affordable housing;  not enough livable wages; mental instability; drug addiction; nomad living lifestyle - yes that’s a thing.  I don’t think California is doing nothing.  There’s just too many people.  And you can’t just throw them in jail or put them onto a bus to make someone else’s problem - like other regional areas have done, there has to be some compassion and humanity.  But these encampments are not humane.  They are breeding grounds for disease and despair.  What does that say about you as you walk on by?  Trying to ignore the garbage and filth these people are living amongst.  But I have no answer.  I don’t even know where to begin to help these people.  So for the time being, I’m going to continue to stick my head in the sand and hope that California will rise to the challenge and find some solution, sooner rather than later. 

The Embarcadero curves around and leads you to the touristy part of the city...Fisherman’s Wharf.  I personally hate this part of town.  It’s just too much:  too many people; too many lame chain restaurants;  too many cheesy chotchkie stores.  My parents on the other hand love it.  When they come to town all they want to do is come to Pier 39 and Alcatraz.  My dad would live on Alcatraz if he could.  One of these days I just may lock him in one of the cells.  Today though, things were different.  I loved seeing that Alcatraz tours are once again up & running.  AND not a lot of people yet...wink wink wink...for those of you who've tried to go but weren’t able to get a reservation.  It was early, so the area was just coming alive. The street vendors setting up their wares or street performers getting into character. Then there’s the abundance of colors of all the flashy stores and restaurants.  The sounds of the sea lions barking at the tourists watching them.  The marina with the famous “Rocket Boat!”  I was digging it.  Fisherman’s Wharf also has some great views of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge.  It wasn’t so horrible.  Bob showed me Scoma’s restaurant, a tiny seafood restaurant that’s been here for years and is supposed to be pretty darn good.  There’s even a chapel for the local fishermen.  Then of course there’s Musee Mecanique.  A museum of antique slot machines, animations, coin operated pianos and the like.  It’s pretty cool and I believe most of the games are still functioning, so you can play.  Unfortunately it is also closed because of the pandemic.  You can donate to help keep it open though.  Just go to https://museemecanique.com.  

Then we hit Aquatic Park. An interesting cove at the West end of Fisherman’s Wharf.  This is where crazy people swim in the freezing waters of the bay, most without wet suits.  On this cold, windy morning we found a group of children being taught how to acclimate their bodies to the water so they can grow up to be crazy people.  Horrible way to spend a Saturday if you ask me!  

We continued to go around Aquatic Park and up and around to Fort Mason. There’s a great trail that we’ve never taken that gives you an even better view of the GG bridge and Fort Mason below.  And once you get on the other side, you’re in local land of OZ!  Where the curtain is pulled back and the locals are enjoying the real SF.  Now for those tourists who spend their whole time at Fisherman’s Wharf and The Embarcadero, more power to you.  Just don’t say you’ve been to San Francisco.  Because you haven’t.  Once you get over the hump, one of my favorite scenes of SF...the buildings.  Squat, square homes of multiple pastel colors rolling like waves along the hills of San Francisco.  In other areas of the city, the hills are rolling with colorful victorians.  The colors are what I love best about San Francisco.  

It was here that I realized I was hiking with Cher.  We had to make yet another stop so Bob could make a wardrobe change.  It’s also kind of a production with him narrating what he’s doing.  I got to hear all about the ins and outs of why he rolls his flannel rather than fold.  Why he’ll wait to take off the thermal leggings.   Where to put his first UO sticker. Yada, Yada, Yada.  Good thing he’s pretty cute.  As he was changing, we noticed a statue of an older man in a suit but no plaque telling visitors who he is.  I thought he looked like Rodney Dangerfield.  But why would anyone put up a statue of Rodney Dangerfield in SF?  That would be the ultimate “no respect” though, a statue but no plaque.  Ends up it’s a guy named Phil Burton.  He was a US Congressman from California who is responsible for 87,000 acres of the SF Bay Area being designated as a National Park. I was basically ending my hike in a National Park thanks to this man.  He deserves a plaque god damnit!

So once you pass Fort Mason, you are now in the Marina district.  It’s where Cal Berkeley students go after they graduate. They mutate here on the hollowed grounds of Crissy Field.  Like yuppy gremlins. Working out or drinking Philz Coffee.  The homes along Crissy Field are gorgeous. Huge picture windows with a front row seat to the Golden Gate Bridge.  Each one is architecturally different and once again, the colors!  Beautiful. The only downside was the wind.  It was pretty darn windy along this stretch.  But Bob had his windbreaker and I had my knit cap.  I can endure the wind if I have my ears covered. 

It’s a long stretch from Crissy Field to the Presidio.  The old barracks of the Presidio on one side and the entrance of the Bay on the other.  The GG Bridge is the main attraction here.  It’s majestic. Great time to get over there.  Parking was plenty and not a bad way to have a picnic. There’s a climbing gym, a trampoline park and under the bridge is Fort Point.  I have been here before, took my parents.  I was able to slyly divert their attention from the bells and whistles of Fisherman’s Wharf with the chance to view history!  They are suckers for historical buildings.  And Fort Point is a National Historical Site.  It was built during the Civil War in 1861.  It’s been awhile so I don’t remember too many of the details, but definitely worth a visit.  

Now we began our assent to the Jewel of this hike...The Golden Gate Bridge.  It’s a National Icon and San Francisco’s mascot.  As you climb the hill and get closer to the bridge there are a bunch of tunnels and “hide outs” along the way.  Remnants of the military presence that once dominated San Francisco.  But the absolutely coolest thing about this hike was I had NO IDEA you can actually walk underneath the bridge itself...like right below the huge steel red frame!!  It’s literally a wind tunnel, so hold onto your hat!  But super duper cool!!  If you have any engineers or construction people in your circle, this would be a great spot to bring them.  

As you continue around the bend, you come to Baker’s Beach.  Not sure if it’s still a nude beach, but it used to be.  The unfortunate thing about nude beaches is the people who SHOULDN’T be nude are the first ones to get into their birthday suit. But that’s my problem, not theirs!  Some nice trails along this stretch, but nothing too exciting to report.

We soon came upon the neighborhood Sea Cliff.  Now this is where the really rich people live.  Like Robin Williams had a home here;  Nancy Pelosi I think lives here.  Mansions with a view of the Pacific.  Bob & I had to walk through right?  I am happy to report the other half live very well.  I stopped to smell the roses (literally) but I noticed that all the gardens actually smelled horrible.  The fertilizer was strong here.  Bob & I laughed that that was how they kept the riff-raff away, by surrounding their homes with a shit moat.  Worked for us!  We high tailed it out of there.  

Now we came to our last stretch...Land’s End.  A labyrinth of trails along the coastal edge.  We needed to stop for another wardrobe change.  This time his leggings were going back on.  Which meant he needed to get down to his underwear.  Let’s just say a whole group of people got a little more than they were expecting that day!

Finally we made it to Sutro Baths and the Cliff House!  Fantastic!  Unfortunately the Cliff House closed due to the pandemic and is not reopening.  I cannot imagine this space will be closed for long.  Fingers crossed.  We decided to head down to Ocean Beach and end our hike by having lunch at the Park Chalet.  We were both famished and Bob was getting cranky.  Needed to feed him STAT.  I have more to report here but Bob might get mad at me, so if you see him again, just ask him about our new friend Franklin!  

BTW, Sunday I did my final 4-5 miles back at my MacArthur Trail.  I brought Stella this time and she loved it.  It was as fabulous as ever!

I’m still going to hike y’all and write about it.  So check in to see where I go next.  I enjoyed writing my thoughts and feelings down.  Even if nobody reads it, it’s my journal to this wonderful life I’ve been blessed with.  Why not tell the world!

Thank You to all who have donated to the Ride4Reason fundraiser and have endured reading these ramblings.  But, That’s All Folks!  (for now).  xoxox

[losille2000]

Hoot and Howl, Chapter 1

TITLE: Hoot and Howl CHAPTER NUMBER: 1/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 CHARACTERS: Actor!Chris Evans/OFC GENRE: Paranormal Romance (more on the magical realism side?) FIC SUMMARY: Chris goes on a camping trip to calm the noisy anxiety in his head, but it ends up leading him into his own messed up version of a Disney movie. When he said he wanted to be a Disney prince as a boy, this was absolutely not what he meant. Especially considering that the princess is also, well... about that... RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS:  Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: This is the second story in the Seasons of Magic series, so the same “world” as Home is set in. I will continue Home, but this needed to get out. Also, it has obviously been a very long time since I’ve updated and/or written anything of great substance, so please be kind. That said, I do appreciate any concrit if you have it. You do NOT need to read Home to understand this story.

Also a quick message to my readers who are coming back: welcome back! I appreciate you all so much. I know it's been a long, long time since I've updated. A lot has happened in 2 years (for one, I am now teaching full time, and teaching eats all of your extra time). A lot is still happening. But this unprecedented time at home has given me an opportunity to try to write again. Enjoy!

Previous Chapter - Also available on Archive of Our Own!

Chapter 1

The speeding truck, rusted out and sputtering, navigated over a narrow gravel driveway and through dense pine forest for a quarter mile off the main highway until the path opened into a clearing. Inside the clearing was a simple country farmhouse with hunter green shutters and aged white siding, sedate and quiet, but for faint white smoke curling out of a tall stone chimney. A vibrant forest behind the house was aflame in brilliant autumnal colors, cloaking the mountain in shades of kingly red and gold as it reached into a stormy sky.

 Chris only wished he could truly appreciate nature’s beauty, rhapsodize on it, photograph it, consider how, even when it seemed like the world was going to shit, there was still… this. But he couldn’t; rather, he kept his eyes keenly affixed on the narrow drive to assure that he and his passenger reached their destination in relative safety.

 Relative, being the operative word.

As though to test him, the truck bounced over a particularly uneven patch of gravel. The rear swerved and his heart jumped to his throat, but he was able to right the vehicle with a steady shift of the steering wheel and a determined clamp of teeth on his lower lip. Only belatedly did he remind himself to breathe, to calm the heart once again beating a heavy tattoo in his chest.

 Chris inhaled deeply, twice, and instantly regretted it. The cabin reeked of wet dog and man, mud, and the metallic tang of blood. His stomach clenched. Giving in, he took his eyes off the road for just a moment to glance at his companion, who had curled up on the truck’s bench seat beside him. The red and blue plaid flannel he used to wrap Dodger’s mangled paw had soaked through and now just looked dark brown.

 “Just a few more seconds, buddy,” he murmured, more to hear himself speak, to reassure himself, to connect again with the world instead of spiraling into another panic attack. He’d been doing so well avoiding them recently, too. “We’re almost there.”

 Chris hadn’t seen it happen, really, the incident that led them to this enchanting farmhouse with the green shutters. They’d been out on the river, he and Dodger, two days into a two-week solo camping sabbatical.  Dodger skipped between stones and barked at random creatures scurrying around the banks of the river while Chris adjusted the nylon fishing line on his pole, attempting to catch dinner. Then he heard a yelp and a splash; when his eyes darted in the direction of the sound, Dodger was already struggling to swim in the swift river current.

 Chris jumped into the icy river immediately, without considering the toll it could take on his unprepared body—the river was just a few feet deep, but it was certainly deep enough and cold enough to freeze every vital organ for a split second and prolong the rescue of his precious friend.

 Fortunately, he’d plucked the pup out of the rushing water by the collar just before Dodger was out of reach, and then trudged slowly back to the embankment through thick muddy riverbed, thinking all was fine now and Dodger simply needed to dry off. Other than struggling in the current, it wasn’t a rare occurrence that Dodger’s natural mischief led him to fall in a body of water—be it natural or manmade, like the swimming pool back in LA. Dodger would fall in, get out, Chris would dry him off and then the dog would go lay down, the natural consequence having fully chastised him for being silly.

 But this wasn’t like that at all. Only when they made it back to dry land did Chris notice the blood dripping freely from the canine’s front paw, made all the worse from the water saturating his fur. Somehow, Chris had kept it together long enough to rip a piece of his flannel shirt off and tightly tourniquet Dodger’s leg; never mind that he had a stack of towels and blankets in a duffel bag a few feet away, which might have been useful—also—to warm a shivering, scared animal.

 Then the anxiety hit him, literally knocked him on his own ass, as he scrambled through his fishing tackle box for the emergency burner phone. The one that could dial out for emergency services and receive calls from his mom, because his mom was the only one with the number.

 The phone still had a charge and the old crappy mobile internet had come through for him when he searched for the closest veterinarian, even all the way out in the middle of the Massachusetts wilderness. He’d practically thrown Dodger into the truck and sped away from the campsite, with the fishing line still dangling in the river. 

 Now that he thought about it, or at least, now that the adrenaline had subsided a bit, he realized the mistake he made. If he even made it back to camp tonight, that pole would probably be long gone. And so was any chance of eating because it would be too dark to do any fishing with the other poles he brought with him. The energy bars and backup rations he packed would only go so far to fill his man-sized stomach—and they were supposed to be provisions to last two weeks. He didn’t want to go back into civilization for at least that long.

 Chris grumbled. This was why he didn’t have kids—he could barely handle his dog’s injuries, let alone anything worse. How would he ever react with an actual human child? Leave another fishing pole in the river? Or, if they were at home, leave the stove on and burn an entire house down?

 The thought was absurd!

 Him having children of his own was a ridiculous idea. He absolutely was not qualified. The fact that his girlfriend was pressuring him to commit to that—to finally settle down—only made matters worse. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than to settle down to have a family, but the other person in the relationship had to understand the difference between wanting something and knowing one’s personal limitations. His level of anxiety, despite all the work he had done learning to manage it over the years, was not at the point where he could contemplate children.

 This trauma was a perfect example. Fuck. He probably wasn’t even qualified to have a fur child, now that he thought about. He certainly didn’t feel like he was worthy of the companionship of this perfect spirit lying beside him and whimpering in pain because he hadn’t been paying attention.

 He glanced at Dodger again, but the dog didn’t even pick his head up this time, so he reached out to place a reassuring hand on his back. They’d get to the vet, and everything would be fine. It had to be. He couldn’t lose him.

 A few seconds later, Chris pulled into a parking spot alongside a tiny Toyota Prius, which he found completely incongruous to the rustic storybook farmhouse sitting before it. These places were made for old beaters like his, or something with a little more substance—even if he did appreciate the owner’s care for the environment.

 His old truck creaked to a stop, the noisy clunking machine rattling until it finally fell silent a few seconds later. Dodger whined again and tried to stand on his bad paw, only to slide back down the vinyl seat with the wet shirt rag. He scooped the dog into his arms and pressed his lips to the dog’s head—a completely illogical thing to do at a time like this because it clearly wasn’t going to make Dodger’s paw heal instantly, but it made Chris feel better—and bound up the three front steps toward the second door on the other end of the large porch with the small plaque that read “Dr. Bird, DVM.”

 Grateful the door had been left partially ajar, he nudged his shoulder against it and stepped into a room that looked like any other doctor’s waiting room—human or animal—except for the fact that he was the only person staring at a space he wished were filled with a reception desk with a receptionist. Someone… anyone… who could help Dodger. Immediately. All he found were worn vinyl-cushioned benches, magazines piled on an end table, and lamps glowing soft yellow light into the four corners of wood-paneled walls.

 There was also another door, this one presumably leading further into the house, but it remained firmly shut.

 His anxiety clawed back up his throat and began to strangle him—should he have instead gone to the other vet in the other direction, though another half hour away? Had Dodger lost too much blood? The dog seemed limp in his arms. Was it… was it too late? Should he just barge in through the other door to look for help?

 Chris opened his mouth to yell, but his entreaty died on his lips when the closed door creaked open. A massive cat with a fluffy white coat loped into the room, clearly unphased with the seriousness of the situation. He frowned at the odd creature as it stopped just in front of him, looked up and slowly blinked large jade-green eyes. The proximity of the feline made him uneasy; not only was Dodger uncaring of an animal that he would have otherwise had a real problem with staring up at them, but Chris felt the cat was assessing them frankly, and not in any typical cat-like way.

 The cat made a soft chittering sound, as though trying to communicate with him. Chris’ frown deepened. This was getting them nowhere, fast. And this cat gave off some really fucking weird vibes. And if he weren’t mistaken, it felt like the animal was rolling its eyes in disgust that he, a human, had not been able to understand Cat.

 Was this a dream? Was he hallucinating this? More importantly, what kind of medical professional allowed a cat to be the welcome committee to a place of business, never mind that it was a veterinarian’s office?

 The cat “receptionist” blinked again and sat down heavily, flicking its long tail before emitting a rumbling and, if Chris were being honest, perturbed meow. It echoed in the barren room, but the sound was finally enough to pique Dodger’s interest. The dog turned his head quizzically with perked ears.

 Dodger yipped twice at the animal but didn’t struggle like he wanted to get down and chase the cat. In response, as though they—the dog and the cat—had somehow communicated the problem to each other, the cat stood back up and trotted back to the door and disappeared.

 Chris tried to speak again; a blur of feathers stopped him this time as a large grey bird soared into the room and landed on a perch affixed to the opposite wall. He’d not noticed the protrusion there, as it was made of the same wood as the paneling and blended in with the walls.

 The grey parrot with crimson tail feathers turned to look at him, clucking a few times then saying in a strange parrot voice, “Just a minute! Just a minute!”

 Chris considered turning around and leaving. This was too strange, and his canine companion was too precious to be dealing with a doctor who didn’t have a proper staff and left the care up to a weird fluffball cat and a parrot. When he turned toward the door, the bird suddenly sounded like a Star Wars droid, booping and beeping and trilling like R2D2, then changed to words. “Don’t go! Don’t g—”

 “I’m so sorry!” A new voice—a feminine one, smooth and alto—broke into his periphery. “I was in the middle of something that couldn’t be put down.”

 He whipped around to come face-to-face with a blessedly human figure standing before him, all wind-tousled jet hair and large obsidian eyes. Concern etched an otherwise blemish-free face of smooth tawny skin. She was probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever beheld, but that notion, too, was immediately forgotten like the beauty of the landscape outside, in favor of the creature in his arms.

 “My dog, he—” Chris began, snapping out of his momentary trance.

 She swooped into action, flicking her eyes down to Dodger. She hummed and reached for him. “Let me take him back and have a look.”

 “Can’t I go back?” he asked, reluctantly handing Dodger over.

 She cradled the dog to her chest; Dodger didn’t struggle as she spoke softly. “It’ll be okay, Dodger.”

 “You look as white as a ghost,” she said then, her voice now firm. “You need to sit down and calm down. You’re not going to be any help to your dog or to me if you’re freaking us both out during an exam. Let me look at the injury and stop any active bleeding. Then we’ll talk.”

 And with that, she was gone so quickly he could have sworn she had kicked up a cloud of dust in her wake. However, he did what she’d instructed and collapsed onto one of the old benches, then covered his face with his hands and prayed. He didn’t do a lot of it these days, preferring other forms of soul searching, but he did say a few silent words. Dodger needed to be okay. He couldn’t lose this one constant in his hectic, always changing life. At least not until the dog had lived a long, fulfilled life at his side.

 If only his anxiety would let him think positively.

[rpgexperience]

My servant Devil - Session 1

Abigail Maglocke, daughter of one of the most important English earls, Lord Maglocke, is travelling by a ship to America, together with her parents for her father’s business. She’s woken up in the middle of the night by a commotion outside of her room. Shouting, screaming, sounds like a fight. 

She leaves her room to see what’s happening and check up on her parents. Just as she opens the door, she is greeted first by thick black smoke, then soon after her mother. She drags Abigail back into her room, ushering her to stay there, go to sleep, not leave her room. She takes an amulet, which she has always worn around her neck, and hands it to Abby. “Whatever you do Abby, you need to keep this. Understood? Keep it with you. Always.“ With these words, she tugs Abigail in bed and exits the room, leaving Abigail standing there alone. 

Abigail hears more explosions going off outside, she cannot stay here in her bed when there’s obviously something going on outside, no matter if her mother says that it’s just a dream and everything is fine. She’s 17. She’s big now and she’s tired of her loving parents keeping things from her like she’d be a little girl.

She thinks for a moment but soon throws a gown over herself and leaves the room, making her way to the deck. The smoke is still there, causing her to cough, so she crawls on her knees. Before reaching the staircase, she bumps into a tall figure with dirty shoes blocking her way. As she looks up, she sees a very dirty man with stinking breath and red nose, many of his teeth are missing. He picks her up, throws her over his shoulder like she’s a doll and carries her up on deck. 

On the deck, she’s throw on the floor, the cold wind blowing in her face. Her hands are held behind her back. She sees her parents at the front of the ship, surrounded by a group of tall hooded strangers.

“Let her go! She has nothing to do with this!“ Says Abigail’s father when he notices her there. One of the hooded men opposes in deep and calm voice: “Nothing to do with this? Maybe she will change your mind. Agree to our conditions and we will spare your daughter.“ Her father looks creamy distressed now as her mother is pleading him. 

“No. I will never agree,“ her father decides in the end. 

“Such a shame,“ states the man, sounding like he’s actually sorry about it. Then he raises a hand and  together with other two hooded men, pierce a blade through his chest in nearly inhuman speed. Abigail gasps and freezes as she has to watch her dad be murdered, while her mother screams in agony. “Don’t worry, you’re next,“ the man says, still calm and wraps his strong hand around her neck. She’s struggling against his tight grip until eventually she stops moving, strangled to death.

“What about this one?“ Asks the man holding Abigail. 

The leader replies: “Chuck her into the water. There can't be any of them left, we need to clear out the bloodline.” With that, the man who was holding Abigail’s hands until now, grabs her, throws her over his shoulder again, carries her over to the railing and chucks her into the cold water, unbothered.

The water is freezing and she’s trying to swim but soon you loose feeling in your limbs, the ice cold water is everywhere. Soon she looses feeling in her limbs, her clothes dragging her down, water finding its way into her nose, mouth, lungs. She struggles to fight on, but death seems inevitable. There is nothing here. Absolutely nothing. She is trapped in never ending darkness.

“Well, well, well,” suddenly she can hear voice… where is it coming from? “What a shame. So much potential. So much... beauty. It's been a long time I have seen such a bright little soul. And so much anger too.” Abigail notices that the water and the cold is gone. It’s just darkness now. “Oh yes, I can feel your anger. Bursting through your veins like black poison. Sadness and anger and the desire for revenge. Died long before your time. Ripped from the ones you love so dearly, what a shame indeed.”

“Who are you? Where am I?” Abigail asks, looking all around, trying to locate the source of the voice. 

“Who I am? Well, you are the one who called me here. I can be whoever you want me to be. Oh yes. Your desperate struggles to cling onto life. Such a loud call I could not possibly ignore.” Abigail is confused. She…called him here? Whom? 

Suddenly two red glowing eyes appear in the darkness in front of her.  

"What do you want from me?”

“Me? I told you, you are the one who called me here. So tell me, Abigail, what do you want from me?”

She thinks for a moment. She’s still weirded out and confused by the whole situation. Who is he?! Well, she’s not going to let such generous offer just go: “Can you bring me back my parents? Can you rewind back time? Get rid of those pirates?”

The voice chuckles darkly. “I can do anything, the question is, what are you willing to pay?” Abigail thinks and after a moment offers her family’s riches, their mansion, anything. But the voice doesn’t seem to be satisfied: “I don't need material things. And I'm afraid I can not afford to wind back time, not even your pretty little soul would be worth the trouble. But I can propose you a deal. I can feel your desire for revenge... oh so much hatred indeed. So let me help you. Let me help you find the man who so cruelly took the lives of your parents before their time. And in return… you will give me your soul.” 

After a moment of contemplation, Abigail decided to take on the offer. She wants her revenge. Those bastards will pay. And she’s not quite ready to die just yet. She agrees. Suddenly, strong pain shoots through her hand. As she looks down, she notices a glowing symbol carved into the back of her hand. “This symbol marks our pact. You are not allowed to show it to anybody.” The voice states as a matter of fact. “With this symbol I vow to be your servant to fullfill any of your wishes and help you to take your revenge. Our pact is broken by the day you will take your revenge and I will get to devour your soul.”

Then, the darkness starts to disperse and Abigail feels like she’s falling. Falling from great height. Suddenly, she’s standing on her feet. She hears birds singing, she opens her eyes and sees the sky. It’s a bright sunny day. She’s standing in front of a mansion. It feels familiar but when she tries to remember more about it, her head starts to hurt and spin. 

“W-where am I?” she asks herself, trying to figure it out, not expecting a reply. 

“At Maglocke mansion,” a deep velvet voice replies. It’s the same voice as she heard in the darkness. Only now she notices that there’s a second person standing next to her. It’s a very tall man, she has to tilt her head back to look up to see his face, however that is absolutely worth it as his face is the most beautiful face she has ever seen. It looks like it was drawn by an ancient master, perfectly symmetrical and exactly the way she would have liked to paint it in her dreams. He has black perfectly styled hair, is clear shave, has very dark black looking eyes, soft smile is playing on his lips.

"I must say, I have had worse. You have a good taste,” he says as he’s watching his hands. Abigail is confused: “Worse what?” He replies simply: “Bodies.” 

“Should I be afraid of you?” Abigail asks him, slightly scared. “Maybe. But as long as our pact lasts I vow to be your humble servant,“ he says with a slight bow.

They enter the house together. It appears to be empty inside. There is a thin layer of dust on the ground, it looks like nobody has been inside for a couple of months at least. All the furniture is wrapped up or covered by blankets, it's very dark. The whole house seems foreign to Abigail but at the same time she feels like she should know it. 

Abigail walks through the mansion, trying to find her room, remember something. Her legs seem to know the way but her head is hurting the more the more she tries to remember. Her new servant eyes her worried: “Are you alright, my lady?” placing a gloved hand on her shoulder, his touch is soft like a feather. She shakes her head. “Oh well it's not every day you come back from the dead. It probably took its toll on you. Maybe you should lie down.” he advices.

Her legs lead the way, eventually they end up  in a spacious kitchen. “Is this your room?” He asks rather confused. Abigail shakes her head, now noticing her rumbling stomach but there’s no food. Her servant suggests her to go to bed and he will bring her food there.

Her legs leads her to her room, large bed is standing in the middle, covered in dark blankets. He uncovers it in inhuman speed, preparing it for her. He lights a fire to warm up the room and helps her out off her dresses and shoes, preparing her to sleep. Then he rushes off. 

Abigail is nearly asleep when he returns, bringing multiple plates of food, serving them on a tablet over her legs. Where did he get all the food? How did he manage to cook it all so quickly? She’ll never know. She begins to eat, all meals tasting incredibly delicious and there’s far more than she could possibly eat. He watches her eat, then cleans up, tucks her into bed, wishes her goodnight and leaves her to rest.

Abigail is woken up by soft ray of sunlight and smell of fresh croissants. Before she can even open her eyes, she is wished Good morning by her new servant, offering her breakfast in bed, holding a tray of freshly baked croissants. She has another delicious meal. 

“I am not allowed to harm any human. You should be aware of that.” he says quite out of nowhere, surprising Abigail. 

“But you said you'd help me with my revenge…” to which he nods in agreement. “Without harming them? Can you assist in harming people? Can you harm animals?” Abigail asks, full of curiosity. 

“Animals are not humans. He only cares about you lot,” he answers, rolling his eyes while he’s cleaning up the breakfast. 

“He? Who’s he?” Abigail asks, watching her very fast servant. 

“Oh, our creator, of course. My father.” He grins devilish, helping Abigail get dressed, being her only maid now, in the same dress she wore yesterday. 

“Your father? As in the God? Who are you?” 

“I am your servant, that's all you need to know. I am bound to fulfil my contract with you. Whatever you think that may imply will count.“ 

“Are you the Devil or something?” Abigail watches him with a hint of fear but mostly curiosity. Did she make a pact with the devil? Who else would want her soul anyways, right?

“I had some people call me that,” he admits: “But I prefer you wouldn't, it causes ruckus on the streets. You may call me Lucian.”

They leave the room, Abigail exploring the mansion, trying to remember more about her life before she…died. Noticing that she has no other clothes - she’ll have to go shopping soon. 

Suddenly there’s knock on the door. Abigail jumps up, scared. Who is it? She sends Lucian to answer the door: “and don't tell them I’m here.”

From outside she can hear a male voice, higher than Lucian’s: “Uhm... Is Miss Maglocke here?”

“The lady is not here I am afraid. Who are you and what can I help you with?”

“I saw the light and thought maybe the Maglockes were back? Are you the new tenants?”

“Who wants to know?”

“Oh uhm right, my name is Whitlock, Oliver Whitlock, Sir. Are the Maglockes back? If so could you tell them I visited?”

"Very well, I will do so.” Lucian says in the end and closes the door, Oliver leaves.

[miss-pearlescent]

Grim Reaper’s Duties (1/2)

(1/2), (2/2)

Kai swung his scythe onto his back, making it disappear until he needed it again. Now was not the time for reaping souls.

He morphed into regular human clothes, a plain black t-shirt and jeans. They weren’t uncomfortable, but they left him feeling naked. He was used to a heavy cloak that shielded eyes from the plethora of lethal weapons strapped to his body. Now they were all simple tattoos lining his skin that waited until their master called on them.

He flexed his empty hands and strode inside the office.

Sitting at the desk facing the window was just the person he was looking for. She was buried in her work, the bun on top of her head bobbing away as she recited some text.

Kai cleared his throat.

The girl dropped her pen with a little gasp and spun around in her seat, her eyes wide. For a moment, he knew that look. It was a look of recognition but was quickly concealed by hesitant confusion. The girl stood up, her toned legs crossing over to the door in quick strides.

“Sorry, you scared me.” Her chest heaved with her intake of breath and he caught a glimpse of her tight black bathing suit underneath a baggy red tank with the word LIFEGUARD on the front. Clearly wanting him out of her office, she met him right at the threshold, keeping a hand on the door. “How can I help you?”

Kai was mildly amused at the way she was trying to be polite and shoo him off at the same time. He must have caught her at a bad time. If only she knew who he was. “I’m here to inspect the pool.”

Her eyes narrowed for a second. “Inspect the pool?”

Out of thin air, Kai produced a badge from his back pocket and handed it over.

“Kim Jongin,” the girl read out loud. He could almost see the gears whirring in her brain. “Oh! For the company meeting this weekend?”

Kai nodded, though he had no idea what this meeting was and why it was held in a pool, let alone who this Kim Jongin person was. “Call me Kai.”

The girl flashed a smile and held her hand out for him to shake. “I’m Lily.”

And Kai...

Kai almost staggered back.

He stared down at this girl and suddenly had the urge to protect her. It was wrong. All wrong.

Stiffly, he shook her hand, his brain racing. The Grim Reaper didn’t protect anything but his job.

“Come, follow me this way.”

Kai blindly took step after step behind Lily, barely noting the thick textbook and pile of notes on her desk. His nose made the slightest of twinges when they walked through another set of doors and the smell of chlorine hit him like a wall.

“This is our pool,” Lily said, walking ahead of him.

He didn’t hear much of what she said after that as she showed him all the amenities that came with the hotel pool. He was too busy noticing the way her legs disappeared under a pair of shorts that really highlighted her butt, which moved in such a hypnotic way when she walked.

Kai gave himself a mental slap in the face and pretended to look around.

No, he was not thinking about Lily’s butt. He was busy trying to piece together everything he knew about her.

Six months ago, he had flashed to one of the biggest accidents in the country on a busy highway. Multiple vehicles were involved, including a coach bus and an oil tanker. Kai was drawn to the scene by the call of imminent death. Many of them.

And when he arrived, he saw the fire and breathed in the smell of charred flesh. There were many deaths indeed.

Almost everyone involved had died, and Kai dutifully sent their souls off away from the human realm. He was almost done with the job when suddenly he felt a hand on his arm.

It was warm, yet it stung his flesh.

Nobody had touched him in thousands of years. He had no idea what skin to skin contact even meant anymore.

He remembered whipping his head around, ready to lob the hand off with a swing of his scythe, but he was stopped when he saw the sooty mess hanging onto him.

“Hi, mom?” The girl coughed the words into her phone as she clung to his arm for balance. “I’m okay.”

Kai froze, wondering if he was in some simulation. He heard the voice on the other end desperately ask “How?” and Kai wondered the same thing. This crash took out almost a hundred humans and stretched on for miles. Bodies were being extracted with zero resemblance to their owners, so burnt and mangled they were.

Yet this girl got out with just a dusting of ash.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I was using the bathroom in the back of the bus when it happened.”

Nobody else had survived the coach bus.

Kai squinted at the girl as she told her mother about how perhaps the disgusting toilet water that had splashed onto her had actually saved her. He peered at her aura for an angelic blessing but could find nothing.

Why was she spared?

She rubbed her eyes and Kai realized she still did not notice she was clinging onto him hard. Quickly, he sliced the bottom of his sleeve and handed the makeshift handkerchief to the girl.

She took it with a shaky word of thanks and rubbed her eyes clean.

When she opened them again, Kai had left the scene.

He spent the rest of the week checking his abilities, making sure that he was still invisible to humans when he reaped souls. That girl shouldn’t have been able to see him. But when nothing out of the ordinary happened after that single event, he marked it off as a fluke.

Until he found he was being drawn to the girl nearly every other week. Week after week, he found himself in her vicinity, yet nobody was dying. He ignored it at first, concentrating on the call of death that always drew him out of the Underworld.

But after six months, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He had spent enough time in the human realm without a true purpose. He needed answers.

And Lily with her hypnotic behind was going to give it to him.

-

Lily needed to get laid.

Pronto.

Because while she was leading her client around the pool, showing him how the jacuzzi would be perfect for the non-swimmers at his company, all she wanted to do was strip naked and jump into the freezing cold deep end of the pool.

Yeah, her choices were either get laid or take a cold shower.

The moment Kai had walked into her office fifteen minutes ago, her brain and lady parts screamed “That’s my type!” but she tamped their voices down and took on her professional role. The hotel was counting on her to book this man’s reservation because it meant extra overnight bookings for any company members who would be too drunk to drive home after their party.

And if she was lucky, she’d be able to earn some tips from this party. Hey, a girl had to pay her student loans somehow.

“How long can we book the pool?” Kai asked, casually leaning in to inspect the jacuzzi.

For as long as you want, Lily wanted to say. “Free swim time for hotel goers ends at 6:00pm. You’re free to book the entire pool with the saunas anytime after that.”

“And there will be a lifeguard on duty all night?” He looked up at her, his gaze sending a wash of warm tingles down her spine.

She didn’t speak lest her voice cracked from being—oh, she couldn’t deny it anymore—horny, so she simply nodded.

She must have been blushing or looking like a lovesick puppy, because his lips curved into an all-knowing smile. “Good.”

Lily had to look away before she melted under the intensity of his gaze. “After midnight, the fees will be a bit higher due to the night premiums for workers.” She gave a nervous laugh. “You know, labour laws and all that.”

She began rounding the jacuzzi, back toward the office, when suddenly, she felt a sizzle on her arm. Lily yelped at the pain and jumped away, rubbing her shoulder. Her flip-flop caught on the grate and she fought to regain her balance.

“Lily!”

She felt a hand graze her flailing arms as she fell into the jacuzzi. Great, what a perfect show of how competent she was as a lifeguard. And it had to be in front of a hot client too.

Pushing aside her thoughts, she twisted her face toward the surface of the water. After a couple of futile attempts, something yanked at her scalp, causing her to nearly scream in pain.

Her feet touched the bottom and if she just stood up, she could punch through the surface, but something was keeping her down. Her hands reached up and found that her hair had come undone from its bun. She followed the strands down and realized they were being sucked into one of the filters.

No, no, no.

She wanted to cry for help but she knew she needed to stay calm in order to reserve her oxygen. Out of fear and shock, her fingers fumbled as they tried to unknot the tangles of her hair from the filter. Thank goodness the water was warm and not freezing cold like the pool.

Then someone jumped into the jacuzzi beside her, their huge shadow blocking out the fluorescent light on the ceiling. She couldn’t tell what was happening anymore until a strong arm wrapped around her torso and for some reason, she suddenly felt safer.

It was the same feeling she’d often had every few weeks when she was scared or anxious. It had started six months ago after that huge crash on the highway, and she was thankful that her brain could give her a sense of calm whenever she needed it. She attributed the calmness to the meditation exercises her therapist had taught after the crash.

Without the break from flashbacks of the crash, her mind might’ve gone awol.

Now, she watched as a great hand held onto both her hair and the filter, yanking the plastic out of its hole in the concrete with one great pull.

Then Lily was thrust into the air, where she clung onto her saviour and gasped for oxygen.

“Th-thank you,” she coughed and sputtered, her hands moving wildly over Kai’s shoulders to make sure he was real and she wasn’t already dead and moving onto the afterlife. “You saved me.”

A reassuring hand stroked down her back as she continued to hack up the last bit of water. “Someone tried to kill you,” he growled.

“What?” She couldn’t have heard that right. Swiping the wet hair out of her eyes, she pulled back and looked Kai in the eye. “No, I slipped.”

He shook his head, his gaze so angry, she thought she could see flames in his pupils. “Someone came into this realm and pushed you into the water.” Lily’s eyes widened because he wasn’t making sense, but also because Kai’s hand was suddenly on her butt and she wasn’t sure if he even realized it. “Someone wanted you dead.”

“Hold on, you need to explain—” Her words cut off with a little scream as a crack of thunder ran out indoors.

Why was there lightning and thunder inside the pool?

Lily realized she had wrapped her legs tightly to Kai’s as the water began to whirl around them. Her arms were basically superglued around his neck. Nobody could pry her away from him at this moment.

She was freaked out and he seemed to be the only one with answers.

She heard a snick in the air and suddenly Kai had a scythe in his hand. She stared in awe. The man was wielding a freaking scythe. All while his other hand gripped her by the ass.

She didn’t know if she felt like a woman or like an infant.

Either way, she felt adequately protected, and that was all that mattered.

Come on, the man had a scythe.

“What’s happening?” she asked, raising her voice over the storm that was brewing around them.

Kai shook his head, an indication that he wasn’t sure. “I think we’re about to get some answers.”

---

Hello again! I have been on a big writing slump because all of my favourite authors had back-to-back amazing releases during the summer and then there was NOTHING for months :’( But yesterday I finished reading Larissa Ione’s Reaper and I cried so much because it’s the end to one of my favourite series! SO I HAD TO WRITE until midnight even though I had to be up at 5am for work the next day. If you have read the book, you will know that I took a lot from her world. Namely, the main character’s name (her main character is Lilliana and I just really love the Grim Reaper and Lilliana T_T) and the idea of someone being stalked for certain reasons that shall be revealed in the next half of the short story :) I really love reading paranormal fantasy especially when it’s so SMART. Like you can do so much with a world and just the fact that one author can create all that along with intricate plot that leads to crazy consensual sex?!?! Where stalking isn’t creepy and there is always a SMART reason for forced proximity aka one of my favourite tropes ever?!? Sign me up!!!!

Anyway, I’ve been rambling. Thank you guys for reading and have a great week :)

PS: KAI LOOKED SO GOOD WHILE PROMOTING IN LA! I JOP EVERYDAY FOR HIM!

PPS: Do you guys like the gif in the beginning of the story?? Hate it??? It feels bulky to me but it also sets a ~mood~ so let me know :3

[limwen]

Merman x female human (Chapter 3)

Here comes chapter 3! As always leave a heart if you like it and if you have time, leave a comment! Any positive and negative feedback is always welcome ^^

Link to other chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Enjoy!

~~~

The following days, Alice found herself immersed in her work, her only solace being the chirping of the birds and the red fruit scented tea she would prepare every once in a while to keep herself hydrated. She was unaware that a very unlikely creature, one completely different from the birds, the fishes or any other animal the forest gave home to, was quietly and curiously watching her form, leaning over the computer: this strange creature, who was not human yet shared with humans many characteristics, among which a greater intelligence, was actually wondering what that girl was doing all the time clicking and looking at a strange surface that seemed to change in appearance. Days passed by and Alice was growing frustrated with how John Hutton was actually starting to gain consensus among people in the village. She suspected it had to do with the way they had been so willing to pay for her own consensus only two weeks before. She started to think that something had to be done, but she hardly thought she would be capable of standing her ground alone. While mulling over these thoughts Alice found herself, once again, standing on the rocks surrounding the lake. She took off her shoes and sat onto a rock dipping her legs in the water. At first the freezing temperature made goosebumps appear on her skin, but she quickly adjusted to the temperature, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of the summer sun. A few minutes passed by and again Alice heard the otherwise calm water near her slosh around. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the same pair of eyes that had haunted her dreams ever since she first saw them: this time, however, that same golden blue was staring back at her and didn't vanish the moment she blinked her eyes. This time, under the bright sunlight, Alice clearly saw they belonged to a person, a man, hiding behind some rocks. She could only see his eyes and his messy black hair: she noticed his hair was wet and some strands were falling down on his forehead... What the hell was that man doing?! Why was he swimming in her lake and hiding behind some rocks?! Alice suddenly snapped out of her trance and, not knowing what to do, after all he hardly seemed hostile, even though he seemed very strange, asked him: "Soo... What are you doing there?" At the sound of her voice his eye opened wide in fright and he ducked beneath the surface of the water trying not to make any sound. Alice found herself at a loss for what to do. So she stood on her feet gaining a clear view of the man hiding in the lake. She took a cautious step forward him and was about to say how it was useless hiding like that when she clearly had already seen him, when she was suddenly met with a vision that almost convinced her that she was actually dreaming. Before her very eyes, clumsily hiding in the lake, was a — how could she even say that word without doubting her own sanity — a... merman: instead of his legs, a beautiful tail was slowly swishing around in the water. Alice stopped dead in her track, her mouth hanging open as her eyes tried to take in what was the most incredible thing she had ever seen. What brought her out of her stupor was the... merman... starting to emerge from the water, leaning on the rocks to get a better view of her, and saying something. She blinked and slowly realized he had been talking to her. "I'm s-sorry... What did you say?" She asked, keeping her voice as low as possible, afraid this might be only a dream and any disturbance could make it end. "What's your name?" His accent was strange. Alice was, again, taken aback and answered still in shock: "Alice..." Some more time passed in silence, both staring at each other and neither knowing what to say. Until Alice thought that asking his name, before asking 'what' he was in the first place, might be nicer. "What's your name?" She asked trying to remember to breathe amidst her stupor. The merman made then a very strange sound which slightly reminded her of the clicking sounds dolphins make. Then he explained: "My name doesn't exist in human language". Alice was again at a loss for words. So she asked the only thing that she could think of: "Soo, you're not human?" Damn it, why do I always sound so stupid — she thought to herself lowering her gaze and blushing — it's obvious he's not human, stupid Alice. She looked up again at the sound of his laugh. His mouth was tilted in a slight smile and in his eyes she could see a glint of playfulness that put her on guard. "I'm a merman. This lake is my home". Alice knew then that that time, when she thought she had only dreamed it, it actually was him she had seen. "So it was you I saw, that time, a month ago". "Yes, it was me". "How do you know English?" "Before you came living here, an old man was living in the house. He helped me when I was little and inexperienced. I actually come from the lake above this one but when I was little, I got lost and found myself here. During that travel I had injured myself and the old man treated me". Alice listened to his story sometimes giving her thigh a little squeeze just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. "What happened then? Were you able to go back?" "My parents came searching for me after some days and I was able to return. Yet I never really liked that lake because a village of men was near it and we had to hide constantly. The moment I reached adult age, I decided I'd be living here where the only person who could see me was not a threat". "... I'm sorry, I feel like I've intruded in your place and didn't even ask permission..." She replied lowering her gaze. Another laugh came from the merman before he answered: "You don't need my permission to live in the house, if I didn't like you, I would have moved to another place already. We merfolk are used to moving..." Here he made a slight pause, a shadow of sadness visible on his face, before he looked at Alice again with a bashful smile: "But thank you, for your concern. It seems this house can only be inhabited by nice humans". Alice felt a smile tug at her lips, relieved he didn't think of her as a threat. "Can I ask you... how exactly can you trust me so easily?" The playfulness returned full in the merman's eyes and with a smirk he answered Alice, making her turn bright red: "I don't think I would ever feel threatened by such a cute girl". Now Alice was positive she could explode. Wh-what did he mean with 'cute'? Oh my god, why was it so embarrassing!? The merman seemed to read her mind: "I happened to hear, those times you thought no one could hear, when you read out loud the novel you're translating. If I remember correctly, you were insulting the samurai's mentor because of his, as I recall you said..." Alice was slowly dissolving in a puddle of embarrassment turning impossibly red "... 'asinine' views about marriage, didn't you? Also, do I have to remind you that time, when you were trying to fix the windowsill but you ended up..." "Stop it, okay I get it! God, you don't need to remind me any of it. I get it, I'm clumsy! Now can we please talk about the fact that you were spying on me?" Alice tried to save her situation by reversing the roles but she wouldn't be able to do just so, if his smug smirk had anything to tell. "How can anyone refrain from such cute scenes?" Alice felt like she could facepalm at that moment. Great, she had just discovered a merman living in her lake and obviously he had to ruin everything by being such a tease. She actually started laughing, maybe because the situation was so unlikely and strange, maybe because she couldn't believe any of it, but she noticed the merman laughing with her.

After she calmed down he started speaking again: "Don't worry I didn't spy on you on purpose. I usually stay clear of this part of the lake. As much as we are different from you humans, we actually also have the concept of privacy. It happened only those two times that I mentioned before... And the actual reason today I decided to speak with you was because I also heard what you said to that man the other day". "You heard?" "Yes, I appreciate what you did. It was very brave. This why I thought I could trust you only now, even though you've been here for a long time, but we merfolks have to be extremely careful of humans". Sensing the sadness in him she said: "I can't even imagine what it's like... hiding away in one's own home because of the cold-heartedness of others. We humans certainly don't give nature the right amount of respect". "You clearly do". He interrupted her, smiling gently. She noticed his eyes closed when he smiled and had to remind herself to answer before losing herself in his beauty. "I don't know... I think I try my best..." Her eyes suddenly darted toward his tail. She stared at it, mesmerized by its sinuous movements through the water. Noticing her stare he said: "Come closer, I won't hurt you".

She stepped closer, finally sitting on the rocks near him. Meanwhile, he hoisted himself up onto the rocks (Alice was very distracted by his arm muscles bulging under his pale skin and another blush covered her cheeks) and seated himself so that his the ending part of his tail remained in the water but the rest of it was illuminated clearly by the sunlight. He then turned towards her and smiling at her waited patiently while she admired the colors of his tail. Alice didn't think words could describe it: being a translator, she thought she was experienced when it came to choosing the right words to describe just about anything... in this case she could only admire the colors dancing and reflecting under the sunlight and she tried to remember them as if she was a painter. The skin on his torso was very pale, but going down towards where the scales began, it started to take on a bluish tint. Then started the first scales: these were a light blue and reflected a darker blue whenever he moved, the same color the scales seemed to acquire lower in his tail. They turned darker and darker until they started reflecting a dark green light. The fin at the end of his tale was not covered in scales, it seemed to move like silk in the water and the greens and the blues mixed in it seamlessly. He also had other three fins, smaller but similar in texture to the other one, two at his sides and another on his backside, each starting just under where his skin gave way to the scales. Alice was currently staring at the fin on his left side, facing her, which laid delicately on the rocks. "You can touch it if you want, just be delicate". Transfixed, Alice slowly reached her right hand forward until she felt the texture of the fin under her fingertips. It was so soft… she didn't think it would be like that. It seemed to be kept somewhat fanned out by what seemed like a bone structure. This left fin held a more violet hue compared to the rest of the tail. She was so concentrated tracing her fingers slowly up and down the fin that, at first, she didn't notice the grin the merman was sporting watching her. Only when she looked up and saw his expression, she remembered how teasing the words he had just said sounded. That was the moment she thought he would be the death of her. Being 22 years old one would expect for Alice not to become a stuttering mess every time she talked to a man, but that's exactly how she was. Having never had brothers and having never experienced a relationship (and for that matter even a first kiss) in her entire life, the shy Alice found herself completely ignorant to the world of men and how to approach them. Yet, always the romantic type, she continued on in blissful ignorance with her life, hoping in her heart someone would just come and sweep her off feet. Certainly, her mind subconsciously already saw this man... well merman... as a potential 'knight in shining armor'... Alice would say a very-attractive-and-very-naked-without-his-armor 'knight in shining armor'. Anyway, not only she wasn't able in general to interact with male specimens, and this one was a very intense male specimen (not even a human specimen if we want to be precise), but her poor heart absolutely didn't know how to handle someone who seemed to be flirting with her. It was this thought that sobered up Alice, that bitterly realized that one reason for why she never even had a relationship in the first place was that she was not considered attractive and not even one man ever approached her. While her blush finally started disappearing she turned and this time, looking at him, noticed his shoulder long black hair, and noticed he had three earrings, small golden rings, on his left ear. "Do the earrings mean anything?" "Not really, many merfolks have earrings. We have a similar fashion in jewelry to the one you humans have. I think we were inspired by your art, even though many merfolk like to deny it". He concluded smiling. Suddenly the phone Alice kept on the table in front of the house rang. This scared the merman who readily jumped into the water and disappeared from sight. Alice hurried to answer the phone and even after the call ended the merman didn't resurface again for the rest of the day, leaving Alice wondering if she would ever see him again.

[mypassionfortrash]

Do More of What Scares You: Parts 1 & 2 of 11

Roger is determined to help you overcome your anxiety in any way he can. Although he means well, all he seems to do is make everything worse. Can you make it work?

Pairing: Roger x f!reader Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, lots of talk about anxiety. Notes: I’m rewriting all my old fics from ‘BoRhapRogerina’ ahead of finishing them for NaNoWriMo this year. Feedback is always appreciated!

[1/11]

It was your second date with Roger. A picnic in the countryside where no one could bother either of you. No prying eyes, no crowded spaces. The polar opposite of Roger’s natural habitat, but somewhere you felt right at home. What could possibly go wrong? Especially after your first date didn't exactly go swimmingly.

He had insisted on picking you up.

You insisted you could drive yourself.

He was having none of it.

Why was he so endearing?

Peering through the slats in the blinds, the street below had a dull thrum to it. Crawling with a quiet life of its own. The sun was out, and so was every soul you knew.

Dry mouth, heart thumping. Beads of sweat trickled down your brow; a scorching summer’s day didn’t pair well with the tunnel vision inducing rollercoaster in your brain that sped away with all your excitement.

After the first date, you were convinced he didn't want to see you again.

But sure enough, he called the following morning. He was keen. You prayed he would lose interest. No embarrassing yourself. No stumbling over your words. Or rehearsing answers to every question he could possibly ask you. No more fucking up.

Roger was charming, full of life. He never let anything hold him back. Perhaps that was part of the problem to begin with?

And you? You were aloof, serious. You had so much holding you back that you could never quite catch a breath.

Especially around him.

Still, you dared to hope he would draw out the best part of you. Unleashing something that had packed up and left a long time ago.

When did you get so careful? When was the last time you did anything that scared you? Not counting your first date with him.

You thought of all the recent goings-on in your safe, boring life, struggling to find something that actually enthralled you like he did. 

The sandwiches. The ones you slaved away over that morning. That scared you.

What if he didn’t even like cheese and Branston Pickle?

Better make some jam ones.

Just in case.

You got yourself in such a tizz that getting ready for your date took a backseat until it was almost too late. Even now, your clammy palms tried to smooth your dress down over your thighs. It just didn’t feel right, but it would have to do. There wasn’t any time left to worry about it. You could suffer that, at least.

The trees across the street didn’t sway the way they usually did. The air was thick and heavy, rising up from the street in pale, grey wisps that your neighbours happily wandered through in their shorts and sandals, lazily lapping away at their ice creams or chugging cold beers.

You ached to enjoy it without the great weight on your chest and pinpricks in your vision. And the ringing. Oh god the ringing in your ears was infernal.

That wasn’t the devil on your shoulder, hooting away.

It was Roger. Top down, shades on, in a beast of a car. He was looking up. You could tell he was squinting, gauging whether he had got the right flat.

You threw open the window, batting your eyes left and right. Checking to see if anyone but him was watching. “I’ll be down in a minute,” you chirped, before slamming the window closed. You could just about hear a faint, “what was that?”

But your little jelly legs whisked you down the stairs, a hamper of sandwiches and fruit tucked under your arm.

You blustered into the car next to Roger.

He leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. He knew nothing about personal space.

You were all business. “Hi. Have you been waiting long?”

Roger shook his head and shrugged. “You look lovely.”

Your hands smoothed the fabric of your new red dress against your thighs again, grasping at the hemline. “Thanks.”

Being around Roger was easy (as easy as your brain would allow, anyway). He liked to talk. A lot. And you were much more of a listener.

But then sometimes, he would talk too much. Or admire you for too long. You counted the amount of times he had swerved into oncoming traffic as he was ranting and raving, slapping his hand on your thigh.

Six. Six times. And you hadn’t left town yet.

And then you got out on to the open road. The houses gave way to fields and trees for miles around. Thick, lush green in every direction. And Roger’s foot? It seemed to be made of lead.

The force of the car pushed you back into your seat. Your fingernails dug into your thighs as the engine screamed through the stillness around you.

“You’re very quiet today. What’s the matter?” Roger asked. “Got the jitters?”

You managed to feign a smile, and a small shake of the head. “No, I’m alright.”

Everything surrounding the car blurred into one. Unable to pick out anything in the landscape before it got whipped from view, your stomach began to churn. 

Roger’s voice turned into a muffled drone, as he gazed over at you.

It happened in a flash.

Another driver with the same idea.

The two cars missed each other by a whisker.

Roger laughed it off.

You couldn’t.

You were pale with horror.

“Oh come on, we didn’t crash!” Roger assured you. “I’m a perfectly safe driver, darling.”

You eyed Roger. Jaw clenched. Not saying a word.

Roger flipped from being jovial to being serious, caring. Even his grip on your leg loosened. His voice wasn't as piercing - in fact he was uncharacteristically calm. “Do you want me to slow down?”

You nodded.

The revs dropped to a faint purr. The world became clearer again.

“Thanks.”

“I just get a bit carried away. Sorry. Suppose I’m just trying to impress you.”

“It’s okay. I hate driving. I’m nervous enough as a passenger.” You laughed at how stupid you sounded.

“Why’s that?”

“I guess it’s about not being in control. Either way, you’re always at the mercy of other people.”

Roger seemed to understand what you were telling him. His eyes scanned the road ahead as he tried to work out how to respond. “Do you want to drive home? Afterwards. Get your confidence up?”

You gave a haughty laugh. “Me? After what I just told you?” Your eyes were wide as you jabbed your finger to your chest.

“Yes, you. I’ll be right beside you. Nothing to worry about.”

You thought for a moment, getting lost inside your head. He was so disarming. So comforting.

“What do you say?” He asked, turning the car into a deserted lay-by.

“You’d really trust me to-“

“You seem a lot more careful than I am,” he laughed, slipping off his sunglasses and placing them on your nose. “And I’m willing to bet you’re not as blind as I am.”

Your surroundings were out of focus but enlarged as you took in the world from behind Roger’s rose tinted lenses. You reached out into the void, your palm finding its way to his face. Drawing your fingertips over his nose. His lips. His jawline.

“You’re so blind,” you observed.

A look of utter joy had draped itself over your features for the first time in years. It felt freeing to wear it again. Even for a short while.

“You know, I bet you look really pretty,” Roger said quietly. “If I could see you.”

You giggled, delicately perching his glasses back on his face. “Still think I’m pretty?” You bumbled. 

To him, you looked like a painting as you surveyed your surroundings, your hair flickering ever so slightly in the breeze. A work of art.

“Perfect.” He smiled. “I still think you need to live a little, though.”

You narrowed your eyes, looking at him again. “Live a little?”

Roger pursed his lips together, nodding. He was certain you knew exactly what that meant.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Well, that’s going to be a bit harder than just looking pretty for you.”

“I have an idea,” Roger said, wagging a finger in the air to stop you cutting him off. “Hear me out.”

You folded your arms, cocking your head to the side. “I’m listening.” You were in no mood for being receptive, however.

“Why don’t we - every time we see each other - do something that scares you a bit? Start off small. I’ll give it to the end of the year and you’ll be as bold as I am, I guarantee you.”

The suggestion had you giggling nervously again. That familiar pit in your stomach began to grow once more. “Who says we’re going to make it to the end of the year? You’ll be the bloody death of me, Roger!”

“Right,” Roger began, turning in his seat and taking both your shaky little hands. “There’s a reservoir about five minutes through those trees behind you. Let’s go for a swim!”

“Oh fuck,” you said, throwing your head back. “No.” Your cheeks burned at the thought. "No." Your heart emigrated to the depths of your stomach. “No, I can’t.”

He rubbed your shoulders. “Or you could just dip your toes in and see how you get on. And then,” he paused, pointing towards the hamper at your feet. “You can eat all those lovely sandwiches while I freeze to death for your amusement.”

He was so endearing you couldn’t say no to that.

“Okay,” you resolved with a familiar rattle in your throat. “Let’s go swimming.”

[2/11]

The air surrounding the water was crisp in comparison to the city. Back home it wrapped itself around your neck in wispy yellow lassos as if it was trying to choke the life out of you. 

But here, it was different. Your lungs filled with ease.

You and Roger were the only souls there. The dense tree line surrounding the lake was still and quiet. The water was a slate of smooth steel. Too perfect to touch.

“This isn’t a reservoir, Roger,” you stated.

“Of course it is. You can swim in it.”

“You can’t swim in a reservoir. This is a lake.”

“They’re the same thing.”

Wrong.

A line of moored up boats on moulding ropes bobbed on either side of the rickety wooden aisle, like spectators at a wedding. Roger eyed them.

“Don’t get any ideas,” you warned him, staying one step ahead. Finally, at the very end of the wooden walkway, you sat down and took off your shoes.

Roger was a few paces behind, throwing off his clothes and leaving a trail.

Before your toes touched the water’s surface, Roger bypassed you. He leapt into the water, sending icy shards firing at your face.

You were quite content with dunking your feet in for the time being.

“I’ll tell you, this is just the thing!” Roger laughed, his head breaking above the waves, mats of hair clinging to his face.

Reaching into the hamper for a sandwich, the nerves flooded back.

He was going to convince you to join him.

Better nip that in the bud, right away.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You could hear him chuckling as he swam around at your feet, then he went under. Completely undetectable. Until he grabbed your ankles, making you shriek so loud that birds exploded out of the trees. He was giddy, looking up at you with a broad smile. “Put on my glasses.”

“What?” You said through a mouthful of bread and jam and butter.

“Put ‘em on, so you don’t get too fired up by this,” he said, flapping his arms. “No one can resist me.”

That was true.

You put on his glasses. In the blink of an eye, your view appeared pink and impaired. You saw the trails Roger made in the water as he swam away from you, but not much else.

It was comforting. The trees looked even more green, blending into a sludgy haze in the distance. And the sky. ‘Apocalyptic’ came to mind. Even though it was a brilliant day, the sun had decided to go into hiding over your secluded sanctuary. It abandoned you under cloudy canopies. This was summer in Britain, after all. The sky was an expanse of dusky pink with not one single break of light. Everything was a beautiful, muted calm from behind those lenses. You saw everything as Roger did.

“Have you finished your sandwich yet?” Roger called from the centre of the lake. He was a faint yellow dot in the distance, like the moon against the far off night. He threw his arm in the air, waving. “Can you come out and play?”

“I don’t know, Roger,” you laughed, curling in on yourself. “I’ll catch my death.”

“Ask your mum!”

You grinned, shaking your head.

You were actually considering it.

More than considering.

You wanted to do it.

“Well?” Roger asked, paddling towards you. “What did she say?”

“Maybe,” you announced, standing up, your legs quivering underneath you. “But don’t look.”

“I couldn’t even if I bloody well wanted to!”

You needed more assurance. “Right, cover your eyes.”

“Is that really necess-“

“Just do it!” You warned.

“Oh, alright then, since it’s you,” he said, pressing his palms over his eyes. “You do know I’m blind, right? I did tell you this, didn’t I?”

When you were certain Roger wasn’t looking, you turned your back on him. It made things easier if he were to see you naked. You wouldn’t have to see his face. With shaking hands, you pulled your poppy red sundress over your head and threw it next to Roger’s jeans. The chill in the air lapped away at your skin as you shed the rest of your clothing. “Still not looking?” You called, crossing your arms over your body.

“I might have had a little peek,” Roger admitted. He was quick to back peddle. “But remember I can’t actually see anything. You were a blur. A lovely… blur…. By the way.”

Turning around to face the lake, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of apprehension threatening to drown you. Never had you imagined you would be doing this. Let alone with a stranger.

He was waiting for you. Hands still covering his eyes. Keeping his word.

Your stomach churned with every dainty step towards the water. It felt like you were walking on hot coals but lacked the capacity to move any quicker. Arms still wrapped around your body, trying to cover up. There wasn’t an inch of skin on you that wasn’t peppered with goosebumps.

He insisted he couldn’t see you. But you weren’t buying it. Not for a second.

Finally, you were at the edge of the jetty, staring down at the churning grey abyss.

Deep breath.

You stepped out, allowing yourself to be overcome for a moment. It was everywhere. Pitch black, clawing at your skin, right through to your bones. In your eyes. Up your nose. In your ears. It stung. But you had never been more awake.

And then you broke through the surface.

Heart racing. Exhilarating. Clarity.

Roger was there. He looked proud.

Those little wheels in your mind slowed down, taking it in.

“You can see me now?”

“I can see you perfectly.”

“Oh god.”

His hands were warm on your hips, underneath the barbed blanket that clung to your lower half. “You did it,” he whispered.

You laughed, turning in the water to get a better view of everything around you. Your heart was so full.

There was no fussing about which way your hair fell, or the mascara running down your cheeks. Or even the fact that you were here, naked in the middle of nowhere, with the most gorgeous stranger you had ever met.

Instead, you were present and living. It felt so new. And all took was one small step. “I did, didn’t I?”

Behind you, Roger had wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I saw the whole thing,” he said quietly, kissing your neck. “And it was bloody marvellous. I’m so proud of you.”

You narrowed your eyes, turning to look at him. “I thought you couldn’t see?”

His mouth popped open. “I’m not completely blind. I’m just very short sighted.”

“Right.”

None of that mattered.

You and Roger stayed by the lake for the rest of the day. Huddled up at the end of the landing, eating sandwiches and watching the water sway below.

You talked about everything as you tried to dry off. And long after. How draining it was trying to keep up his mischievous public persona. He just wanted to drink tea and play scrabble. But he had appearances to maintain. And how, deep down, he felt like it was time for him to grow up. Be an adult. Work on his temper. Stop fucking about. Maybe buy a more sensible car and not crash it. All much to your dismay.

The sun reappeared towards the end of the day, cracking out over the tops of the trees on the opposite side of the lake. It was getting late.

“For what it’s worth,” you began, pulling up your underwear, “I don’t see why you should have to grow up.”

Roger was slipping on his shirt, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He raised his eyebrows.

“I’m probably the world’s leading authority on letting everything hold me back. And worrying too much,” you said, brushing his hands out of the way to fasten the buttons. “You’re fine the way you are.” You gave him a pat on the chest once you had finished.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he said, looking at his feet. Then back at you. “It couldn’t hurt to be a bit more like you, though. A bit more careful.”

You shook your head, shuffling into your dress. “Why would you want that? Being this careful… It’s like being in prison. I was hoping you’d help bust me out of it, if that’s ok with you?”

“Still fancy driving back?” He asked.

You grimaced, picking up the empty hamper and taking Roger’s arm. “I’ve had enough excitement for one day. You can see in the dark when you’re driving though, can’t you?”

Roger pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I think so. I’ll try not to kill us, if that makes you feel better.”

“You’re so good at keeping me calm, Roger. I don’t know how you do it.”

[nananaptime]

Cookies, Laughter and Kisses

My love for Dongyeol is strong in this one

Written for the June prompt on Up10tion Honey10 Amino

Masterlist

Rules

Genre: So fluffy you’ll get cavities

Word count: 1 757

Summary: Is breaking the rules allowed when you’re in love?

~

The door creaked as I gave it a soft push, causing me to freeze, listening after potential footsteps, fearing the risk of getting caught. Once ensuring the cold emptiness of the hallway, I quickly opened the door to its full potential to avoid any more creaking of the door. I then closed it with the utmost care and tiptoed down the hallway, avoiding the plants at every corner and considering any light, tiptoeing faster whenever the risk of getting caught increased. At the entrance, I threw a glance over my shoulder before softly turning the lock and opening the door, stepping out into the fresh summer air. In the moonlight, the resort looked like it had been dipped into a pot of silvery honey. The big fields of grass representing the golf courts stretched far into the east, the buildings making up the arcade and the sauna stood proudly on the west side of the resort and the smell and sound of the sea made its way into the perimeter with ease. The moonlight causing everything too look like from another world. A smile covered my face as I took in this peaceful paradise.

On my shoulder hung a bag filled with necessities for the evening's activities. In it resided a beach towel, some chocolate chip cookies which I had prepared just an hour before and my polaroid camera, brought along for necessary memory making. I had made sure that the cookies had contained extra chocolate chips considering whom I was about to meet. That boy would complain my ears off if there weren't enough of them in there.

The resort didn't keep too many guards in the area, this because most of them were located on the outer rims, stopping anyone unauthorized from entering. The few guards positioned inside was merely there in case someone slunk through the first set of security. This made my trip easier than I had hoped. Not one guard was seen as I made my way towards the pools which, considering the late hour, was off-limits. How I had allowed him to convince me of this risky activity, I had no idea, but I knew one thing for sure. At this point, I would do anything for him. Even though I had only known him for a bit over a month.

The fence which surrounded the pools were too high to be climbed, but we had discovered an opening on the left side, one big enough for a person to squeeze through. This was the way which I used, tossing my bag in first. Then I followed, glancing around the area, looking for the smiley boy who had won my heart so easily. Once I couldn't locate him, I grew confused. Taking a few steps closer to the water, I put my bag down and sat down by the pool, putting my feet in and marvelling at the cool feeling which it provided. The moon was visible straight above the pool, causing the water to reflect it in great ripples as the breeze grazed it while it made its way from fence to fence. Thinking the man meant to provide me with company was late, I settled for relishing in the summer night. In the midst of my relaxing, I heard what sounded like a board getting bent and then let go to bounce into place. As the sound reached my ears, I looked up just in time to see somebody falling straight into the water, successfully drenching me. Screeches and laughs left my lips as Dongyeol made his way to the surface, pushing his hair out of his face and giving me a wide smile.

"You moron," I simply said and splashed him with water the best I could. He only laughed at me, grabbing one of my ankles all the while protecting his face from my attack, pulling himself to me using my ankle as leverage.

"Had I known you would take so long, I wouldn't have been here early." He wrapped his arms around my calves and rested his chin on my knees, giving me the most adoring look I've ever received. I reached my hand into his hair, detangling the knots which had appeared due to the water. He closed his eyes, letting out a satisfied sigh and repositioned his head so his cheek was pressed to my knees. I let out a soft giggle.

"I couldn't be careful enough. Had my parents realised what I was up to they would've stayed awake until I'd fallen asleep and attacked you with questions tomorrow morning." He chuckled from his position in the water and turned his head to look at me.

"Naah, your parents love me." His confidence caused more giggles to spill from my lips and he smiled at me before tugging slightly at the hem of my beach dress. "Take this off and come for a swim with me..." Then, with a cheeky smile, he added: "... I want to make tonight romantic." I just let out a "pfft" but stood and took my dress off, either way, revealing a black bathing suit underneath. Then I backed away to run for the water, jumping in as I reached the edge.

The water drowned everything out and I kept my eyes shut, not wanting to irritate them with the chlorine-filled water. Before I had the chance to swim towards the surface, I felt hands gently cup my face and, only seconds after, soft lips press against mine. It only lasted for a second before Dongyeol pulled away and swam for the air, with me at his heels. Once in breathable conditions, I met his smug smile with a teasing one. He only laughed at me and closed the space between our bodies, wrapping his arms around my waist while trying to stay afloat.

"See? Romantic." I couldn't help the laughter spilling from my lips and I let my head fall against his shoulder, relishing in the closeness.

We spent the next twenty minutes fooling around, splashing each other and sharing more than just a few kisses. According to Dongyeol, kisses was the key for a romantic evening. The more kisses you shared the better and boy, did he use it. Usually, he was more reserved with his lips, much due to the fact that both his and my parents were always present during the days as they had grown quite fond of each other. However, alone, Dongyeol had no reason to hold back, it was like he was making up for lost kisses.

Eventually, I found myself with my back against the edge of the pool with Dongyeol in front of me, pressing peck after peck against my lips, barely giving me time to breathe between them. The smile was still ever so present on my lips as I raised my hand and let his lips meet the palm of it. He pulled away with a small pout, making him resemble an adorable puppy.

"It's getting late, and I would like to dry before returning to my room." I looked at him, teasing him with my eyes regarding the never-ending kissing. He let out a small, playful huff and climbed up onto the floor, giving me a hand once he was stable enough to do so. When both of us had our feet on the floor, causing the dripping water to form a puddle on the floor, he pulled me in for yet another kiss causing me to giggle yet again. I reached up and squeezed his face once we pulled away, making him look like a blowfish. "I have something for you." His eyes lit up like a child on Christmas and he glanced at my bag, located by the fence. I laughed at his excitement and pressed a peck to his puckered lips before releasing his face and making my way to my bag.

Dongyeol sat down beside me as I retrieved the box of cookies. A gasp was released as he noticed the sugary goods I was handing him and he grabbed one without so much as a second to spare. When it came to chocolate, he couldn't be stopped. I grabbed my own and started munching away as I observed the way Dongyeol's expression changed with every bite. I just smiled at his ways, considering myself the luckiest person on the planet.

Making sure he didn't notice my actions, I reached into my bag and took out my baby pink polaroid camera, sneakily turning it on and aiming it at him. He only noticed what I was doing when the flash went off and the picture was already taken. He looked at me, shocked and amused, then he just shook his head and continued eating. I looked at the picture once it had developed and noted with amusement his euphoric expression as he munched away at the baked goods.

"Sometimes I wonder if you like your cookies more than you like me."

"Pfft, maybe I do." I gasped at his response and shoved a finger into his side, causing him to pull away from me like his life depended on it.

"You take that back." He met my smile with one of his own and shook his head, not being able to speak due to the cookie he was chewing. I quickly stood from my position and started approaching him, causing him to rise as well and make a run for it.

Now, I know you're not supposed to run by the pool due to the risk of slipping and hurting yourself, but we were high on sugar and love and were also running very awkwardly to avoid any accidents, hence not making it too hard for me to catch him. He ended up with his back to the fence and me tickling him until he couldn't breathe, only then did I let him take a break from my nipping fingers. We were both breathing hard from all the laughter and I could've stayed in that moment forever, in love with him and our relationship blessed by the moon. He once again wrapped his arms around me, causing me to lean against him, my chin against his chest and my eyes gazing into his.

"You know, I doubled the amount of chocolate chips just for you." He nodded.

"I know, but they would've been amazing either way, just because they came from you." I smiled at him and he kissed me again, this time longer than he had the entire evening.

[twinkletoes-rp]

Naruto AU “Surface Breaker” Ch. 1 - Awakening

Fandom: Naruto Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, (Found) Family Rating: T (to be safe) Relationships: Naruto Uzumaki & Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki & Sakura Haruno, Naruto Uzumaki & Konoha 11, Naruto Uzumaki & Everyone, Naruto Uzumaki & Sasuke Uchiha (mentioned) Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, Sakura Haruno, Konoha 11, Sasuke Uchiha (mentioned) Words: 4,456

Summary: AU/Canon Divergence post-Shippuden 215. When Naruto nearly dies at Sasuke’s hands for a second time, he makes the heartrending decision to finally heed his dead master’s advice and let the Uchiha go. Healing and moving on are never easy, but luckily, Naruto has a whole village (and even those outside it) to aid and love him along the way.

Canon Divergence start: Different from the actual episode, Naruto and Sasuke's fight goes on a lot longer and is way deadlier. It ends up a fight to the death. The only reason they both survive is because Tobi swoops in to steal Sasuke away, and Naruto passes out a second later. That's where the fic opens.

(Can also be read on FFN | AO3 | Next )

--

“Naruto!”

He remembers coughing up blood, a lot of it, and then…his eyelids were so heavy…

“I can’t… We have to…the village…”

He remembers hands on him. Warm and slick and…shaking…

“Stay awake, Naruto…”

He remembers intense pain shooting through him, coughing up more blood…

“Hold on!”

He remembers rushing paws, so many and so loud it became a roar…

“Just a little farther! You can…”

He remembers being set on something soft and cold, tasting more blood…

“Come on, Naruto… You’re…be Hokage…”

He remembers pounding feet and familiar voices barking orders…

“Don’t you dare… Stay with me, you stubborn…”

He remembers machines screeching and a well of grudgingly-protective rage surging through him…

Don’t give up, brat!

And then…nothing.

---

When Naruto wakes, it’s to sights, sounds, and sensations that are becoming more and more familiar over the years.

Machines beep into an otherwise silent, still room. Sterile floors and walls in dull colors that are supposed to relax and provide a sense of calm. Chemicals most might not be able to smell, the pinch of an IV, a few actually, in his arm. Slightly itchy white sheets and a starchy blue hospital gown that’s too big for his small frame. Bandages cover almost every part of him, and he thinks one of his arms might be in a sling – or at least, bound to his side temporarily. Some seriously strong pain meds must be in his system because, at least for the moment, he doesn’t feel even a fraction of the pain he’s sure he should be in. Sakura or Granny Tsunade, maybe both, must have ordered that for him. He’s grateful.

Giving his body a few minutes to adjust to being awake after…who knows how long, he turns his head slowly to look around. He almost regrets it when his vision swims, but something else he notices almost immediately takes precedence.

Body heat at his elbow. There’s…someone else here…?

For a split second, his heart rate spikes, but it calms just as quickly. His vision might not be clear yet, but he can tell from the steady heartbeat and gentle breathing that whoever it is isn’t here to hurt him. Besides, if the splotches of color he can make out are right, he thinks he knows who it is anyway, and in that case, he’s definitely not worried.

When he can finally see, Naruto can’t help but smile, what little he can manage anyway. He was right. It’s Shikamaru, fast asleep at his side with his face in his arms. Naruto breathes a laugh. It’s the same way he used to sleep in class at the Academy when they were kids. If he’s asleep, though, Naruto wonders how long he’s been here. He hopes not all night. Besides getting him in trouble with the nurses or, worse, Sakura and Granny Tsunade, leaning over on the mattress like that must be really uncomfortable.

All the same, he can’t help but soften. He never thought he’d wake up to find Shikamaru Nara, of all people, at his bedside, but he’s certainly not complaining. On the contrary…he’s happy and touched. Shikamaru’s a great friend, one he’s lucky to have, and he knows better than most that the genius doesn’t put his energy into anything he doesn’t believe in. So for him to be here…

Lifting his good arm experimentally, he finds it doesn’t hurt too much to use. Satisfied, he reaches over to rest a bandaged hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder and shake him gently. “Hey, Shikamaru,” he whispers, not wanting to scare his friend. “Wake up.”

Shikamaru instantly shifts and opens bleary eyes. Blinking a few times, he pushes himself back some and stretches, yawning so long that it leaves tears at the corners of his eyes. Wiping at them with his sleeves, he looks his way and freezes, blinking a few more times and even rubbing his eyes for good measure. “N-Naruto?” When he sees his friend really is up, he perks up instantly, face breaking into a wide smile, maybe his brightest Naruto’s ever seen. “Hey, you’re finally awake!”

His smile is contagious. Naruto’s isn’t nearly as big and bright as it normally is, but Shikamaru wasn’t expecting it to be. Not yet, anyway. “Y-yeah, I guess I—I am!” Naruto cringes and coughs at how raw and croaky his voice sounds from disuse, his throat dry as the Demon Desert. Shikamaru helps him sit up enough to drink some water, and Naruto sighs happily once he’s done. There’s more life to the smile he gives this time. “Thanks, Shikamaru! It’s good to see you, too!”

Shikamaru’s exhale is helplessly fond, the other’s voice and smile the last pieces he needed to know he really is okay – or, you know, going to be. He hangs his head with a heavy sigh, all the tension bleeding from his shoulders as his relief takes all his energy at once. “Thank goodness…”

Naruto, meanwhile, is silent, studying Shikamaru’s face. Now that it’s not hidden in his arms, his friend looks paler and definitely more tired than usual. There are some pretty dark shadows under his eyes, too. The blond’s brow furrows in concern.

“Shikamaru…are you okay? You don’t look so good…”

Shikamaru looks up, startled, and then he laughs, the action helping to further relax him. He can’t help it. He swears Naruto is the most selfless person he’s ever met in his life. “You’re one to talk. You’re practically a walking bandage roll.” Naruto doesn’t let up on his worried stare, though, not swayed by the joke and possible deflection, and Shikamaru sighs a bit, smile sobering along with him. “I’m fine. Just a little tired, is all.” He scrubs his hand down his face and then gives Naruto a semi-scolding look, smirking lightly. “You scared the shit out of us, you knucklehead.”

Naruto has the grace to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his head before he remembers that hurts. “S-sorry… But, uh…what exactly am I apologizing for…? How’d I get here again…?”

Shikamaru huffs a laugh. Honestly, this guy… “With how hard you hit your head, I’m not surprised you need a refresher.” He gets more comfortable in his chair and then fixes Naruto with a serious stare. “Depending on how this goes, this might not be the easiest thing to hear, so fair warning. Frankly, I’m glad you’re already lying down.” Naruto’s caught off guard for a moment, but he nods in the next one. Shikamaru takes that as a signal to start. “Well, for starters, you’ve been out for over a week.”

Naruto’s eyes widen, lips parting in surprise. He doesn’t think he’s ever been in the hospital that long before. “W-wait, really? How long?”

Shikamaru nods, resting his chin between his knuckles. “Eleven days, counting today.”

The blond pales a bit, good hand moving to the Seal on his stomach. He’s a little surprised that his immediate reaction is to worry about the Beast locked up inside him, but hey, stranger things have happened. To him, at least. He wants to try talking to it to make sure it’s okay, but he doesn’t want to freak Shikamaru out. Maybe if he explains it to him, he can try later.

As if reading his mind, Shikamaru offers, working to tread carefully, “I’ll get to the Nine Tails in a minute. But for now…what do you remember about what happened?”

Figuring the Fox is sleeping to regain its energy like he was anyway, Naruto takes a breath and does his best to think back. Everything’s so…hazy… He mostly remembers pain and blood and familiar voices…Kakashi-sensei, Sakura, and Granny Tsunade’s, specifically… Before that…—!

A face appears in his mind’s eye, and he bolts upright, Sasuke’s name on his lips, but the pain chokes it off and Shikamaru’s urgent, careful hands stop him halfway. It takes a moment for him to get his breath back. “Sa-Sasuke…! He was…!” Suddenly distracted by more important things, he doesn’t even register Shikamaru gently pushing him back down on the bed. “S-Shikamaru, is—Kakashi-sensei and Sakura—!” He swallows, blue eyes blazing as he breathes through the pain. He doesn’t want to even entertain the thought of being wrong. “A-are they okay?”

Shikamaru swears, no matter how old they get, Naruto’s insane devotion to his friends will always be one of his favorite things about him. He nods, a reassuring smile on his face. “They’re just fine. They made it back here with barely a scratch.” He pokes Naruto’s forehead gently. “It’s you we’ve all been worried sick about.”

Naruto’s whole body sags with the force of his relieved sigh, spring-coiled tension gone in a second. “Thank goodness…”

Shikamaru’s smile grows before he sobers again. “So, what do you remember? Let’s start there.”

Naruto narrows his eyes in concentration, and as the memories start to come back, he feels his stomach drop. “I-I remember…Kakashi and Sasuke about to fight when…S-Sakura tried to—“ he swallows, “—to take him out h-herself. Sasuke retaliated by—by t-trying to stab her with a—a k-kunai through the—” The last word turns to ash on his tongue, too awful to say, but he gestures to his throat with a trembling hand to finish the thought regardless. His words are shaky, horrified, more so as he goes on, and he swallows again, curling a fist in his sheets for purchase. “That’s—that’s when I jumped in. I-I saved her, and then…t-the three of us, all of Team 7, we…w-we tried to convince him to—to come back with us…b-but…” he breathes a laugh, a bitter, angry, almost scared thing, a like smile on his face, “…h-he was talking crazy… He said he—he killed Danzo and that h-he was—was going to k-kill us and then…d-destroy the Leaf to—to ‘cleanse the Uchiha name’…” His fist in the sheets tightens, though he tries to take a shaky breath to steady himself. “I’ve…I’ve never seen him like that before… It was…” he glances up at Shikamaru, knowing he’ll understand, “…it reminded me of the old Gaara, like he sounded when we stopped him from killing Lee all those years ago… That’s what he sounded like...”

Deranged. Unhinged. Totally unrecognizable from the person they knew. Hell, those are being generous…

Shikamaru swears under his breath, frowning as he glares at the floor. He knew the Uchiha was a little sick in the head, but nothing like this…! Looking back up at Naruto, he asks, “Anything else?”

He thinks, but then shakes his head. “Everything after that is…a blur, really. Bits and pieces, a lot of blood and pain, but that’s it. Mind filling me in?”

Shikamaru’s frown deepens, but he sits up a little straighter nonetheless. He’s always been one to rip off bandages quickly. “You used your clones to stop Kakashi-sensei from interfering and then went after Sasuke yourself. Once you two started fighting, there was nothing Kakashi and Sakura could do but watch. There was no way in hell they were getting between you two.” He can only imagine how hard that must have been for them to watch. “The fight went on for a long time, and it got pretty brutal. Sakura had to look away after a while. She couldn’t stand to see you two hurt each other like that. The only reason it stopped without both of you dying was because some guy in a mask showed up and took Sasuke away. You wanted to go after them, but you ended up coughing up blood and passing out a second later. Kakashi and Sakura got you back here as fast as they could, and then Sakura and Lady Tsunade headed the three surgeries necessary to save your life. According to Lady Tsunade, though, it wasn’t just them who saved you.”

He nods toward Naruto’s Seal. “It was the Nine Tails inside you, too.” Naruto’s eyes widen, and he looks down at where the demon resides. “It used up a lot of its chakra to keep you alive after yours was depleted. That’s also why it’s taking you so long to heal. Since the pair of you are basically out of chakra, the Nine Tails can’t accelerate your healing like it normally would, so your recovery’s pretty much slowed to a crawl.” Taking a sip of his water, he continues, “Anyway, after you got out of surgery, you were still in really bad shape. All the doctors and nurses did their best to take care of you, and Sakura and Lady Tsunade even stepped in and did some special medical ninjutsu stuff where they could, but it was touch and go almost the whole time. Some days were better than others. We were all really afraid you weren’t gonna make it this time.” He rubs the back of his neck and sighs, mostly in relief. “But thankfully, you’re awake now, so that’s over. Thank goodness… I’m getting way too old for this stuff…”

When Naruto doesn’t immediately laugh and spout some quip about Shikamaru only being a few weeks older, the chunin looks up to make sure he’s okay.

He finds Naruto staring up at the ceiling, for once completely silent. His eyes are dull, a shade or two darker than they were a few minutes ago, almost listless. His expression is much the same, but Shikamaru can tell there’s a whole maelstrom of emotions playing behind both.

“Where’s Sasuke now?” Even his voice has lost most of its inflection. He sounds…exhausted, but it’s more than that. Almost...defeated.

Shikamaru swallows, trying to quell the worry starting to turn his stomach. He hopes it’s just the shock and maybe a reaction to the memories coming back. “Hard to say. According to Kakashi-sensei and Sakura’s reports, when that masked man came for Sasuke, it was like they just vanished into thin air. There wasn’t a trace of them left, not even a chakra signature. Kakashi has a theory that it was some kind of jutsu unique to that man. An ANBU team was dispatched to the area to see what clues they could find, if any, and they did find a red-haired woman who claims she was Sasuke’s…assistant or something, but as far as Sasuke goes…” He shrugs, next words riding on a tired sigh as he scratches his head. “For now, it looks like we’re back to square one.”

There’s a long, pregnant silence for several moments. The clock ticks by, but Shikamaru can’t bring himself to break it, waiting instead on bated breath for his friend’s response.

Naruto, for his part, heard everything, it’s just…it’s like there’s white noise playing in the background of his mind. He’s not sure if it has something to do with the Nine Tails’ weakness, his own, or maybe it’s all in his head. He’s trying so hard to process everything he’s just remembered and learned, but…it’s too much. All of it’s too much. He wishes it would stop, especially the static. It’s not helping anything. Maybe…he just needs more sleep. “I see…”

His voice is even more despondent than before, and that combined with the way he rolls over onto his side, his back to Shikamaru, sets the older boy further on edge. “Naruto…are you okay?” he asks softly. He’s well aware how stupid a question like that probably is right now, but he doesn’t care. He needs to know, and more than that, he wants to. This would be a lot to take in for anybody, but especially Naruto, who loves with absolutely everything he has in him, and hell, he basically fought his former teammate to the death (for a second time), so it makes sense that this would negatively affect him. Of course it does. It’s only natural. He remembers the last time Naruto shut down like this, after his first near-death fight with Sasuke in the Valley of the End. But still, this…it feels…different somehow. He can’t quite put his finger on why yet. He just hopes it won’t be worse. God forbid.

Finally, curling into himself a little more, Naruto answers, “Y-yeah…” His voice is so hollow and low that Shikamaru almost has to strain to hear it. The brunette swears he’s the worst liar in the world. He’s not even trying at this point. It only makes him worry more. “Hey…Shikamaru…?”

Said boy leans forward so he can hear better. “Yeah? What’s—?”

Suddenly, there’s a bandaged arm around him, and the next thing Shikamaru knows, Naruto’s hugging him. He couldn’t even sit up before without being in intense pain, but now, through sheer force of will, he’s hugging him. Shikamaru breathes an exasperated laugh. “Thank you, Shikamaru. For staying.”

It’s barely more than a whisper, but Shikamaru hears it like it’s the only thing that matters. Right now, to him, it is. He gets the feeling Naruto isn’t just talking about being here when he woke up either. He can’t help but smile and hug his friend back gently, not wanting to hurt him more than he’s probably hurting himself. He feels Naruto relax in his arms, and he holds him just a little tighter, letting his face tuck just slightly into the blond’s shoulder. He’s so, so glad he’s alive. “Don’t mention it. What else are friends for?”

Naruto actually does manage a chuckle at that, and Shikamaru considers it a personal victory. They stay like that for several seconds more before settling Naruto back in bed.

“H-hey, um…” Shikamaru’s steady, calm gaze never leaves the blue-eyed boy; he wants to help in any way he can, “…don’t leave?” Then, even quieter, “Please?”

The whirlwind in Shikamaru’s gut dies down, if only a little, and even though Naruto’s too embarrassed to look at him, feeling his request childish, he hopes he can feel the way his gaze softens. He leans back in his chair to get a little more comfortable. If the nurses want to throw him out now, they’re going to have to contend with Naruto’s word as well as his own. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises quietly. “Sleep well, Naruto.”

---

“I’m going to kill all of you…”

“You never had a family! You couldn’t possibly understand!”

“The Hidden Leaf will be destroyed by my own hand!”

Images of the Hidden Leaf in burning ruins pass by, nondescript screams and sobs piercing the air. Bodies everywhere—crushed, burning, impaled, cut in half, dismembered—so many there’s almost no open ground to be seen. Moving closer to the center, all of Naruto’s mentors and friends are lying on the ground, unmoving and unseeing. They’ve been killed, murdered, in chilling, gut-wrenching ways, each worse than the last. Those closest to Naruto were dealt the worst deaths by far.

In the middle of it all, Sasuke holds a dying Naruto by his collar, grinning at him like a lunatic, eyes wild. He leans in close, his Magekyo Sharingan glowing an unsettling red. Naruto can see and smell the blood coating his lips and teeth, gushing from now-blind eyes. “I win…Naruto!”

--

“No! Sasuke!”

Naruto shoots upright instantly, screaming loudly enough to wake the rest of the patients on the floor.

“Whoa, hey!”

His good arm clutches at his chest where a huge hole was a second ago, he’s sure of it.

“Naruto!”

He’s shaking like a leaf, drenched in sweat, breathing and heart rate erratic.

“Damn it! Can’t you hear me?!”

Tears flow freely from blue eyes that can see nothing but the carnage and world-ending in his nightmare. Part of him knows it’s not real, but he can’t—he can’t shake it—!

“Hey, Naruto!”

Naruto snaps his neck to find Shikamaru standing at his side. He has a tight, tremulous grip on his shoulder, and the older boy’s looking at him like he’s afraid he’ll pass out or start screaming again any second. They’re both breathing hard, but for two very different reasons. Shikamaru, seeing the change in him immediately, lets out a shaky breath, worry pinching his brow hard. “Hey, hey…” He squeezes his shoulder a little more to hopefully help ground him in reality. “You with me?”

Naruto takes a minute to catch his breath and slowly ease his white-knuckled fist from his shirt so he can reach up to wipe his eyes and face and then rest it on Shikamaru’s. He nods. “Y-yeah…I-I think so…” Shikamaru doesn’t let up right away, not moving an inch, and Naruto tries to manage a smile for him. It’s pitiful, but it’s something. “S-sorry if I scared you…”

A few more cautious seconds, and like the string holding him up has been cut, Shikamaru’s whole body slumps and he takes a heavy seat on the edge of Naruto’s bed. He sighs wearily and buries his face in his hand, just trying to breathe. He shakes his head. “No, it’s…don’t worry about it…”

He says that, and yet his shoulders are trembling, just slightly. Naruto isn’t sure he’s noticed. He gets the feeling his friend might have had a tougher time waking him up than he wants to tell him. Suddenly worried he might have actually hurt him in his terror, he looks him over for any injuries, but doesn’t find any. He lets out a relieved, silent sigh of his own. Thank goodness… “I’m…I’m sorry…” He winces at the sound of his own voice. It’s even worse than when he first woke up. Probably from all the crying and screaming. “It was…” he looks away, embarrassed and ashamed to have caused all this trouble, voice falling, “…it was just...a nightmare…”

Shikamaru, while listening intently, takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He does that a few times before he lets his hand fall. It’s a calming exercise Asuma taught him years ago. It almost always works, and this is no exception. He’s grateful.

Turning back to Naruto, he hesitates a half-second ahead of reaching out to squeeze the blond’s fingers lightly. After so many years of being friends and as observant as he is, the notion that physical affection is something Naruto lives for hasn’t been lost on him. Never mind that he’s not usually especially physically affectionate himself, if he can give Naruto some comfort right now, damn it, he’ll do just about anything. “I know. I heard. About Sasuke attacking the village and killing everyone in horribly brutal ways, right?” Naruto looks at him like he’s grown two heads, and he explains, a tiny, wry smirk coming despite himself. “Unfortunately, your mumbles and screams didn’t leave much to the imagination.”

Paling, Naruto shakes his head roughly to get rid of the resurfaced images. “S-sorry…”

Shikamaru frowns. “Hey, stop that. This is not something you have to apologize for,” he tells him firmly. “After what you’ve been through, I don’t blame you for freaking out, even in your sleep. Any sane person would.”

Naruto breathes a laugh at that, somewhat relieved. Still, something in his expression is almost… haunted. ‘Sane,’ huh…? “So I’m not a drag, then?”

Shikamaru recognizes that look on sight. He used to wear it all the time as a kid, and it comes back once in a while when he’s reminded of back then. Hell, even just a few short years ago. His answering almost-snarl makes Naruto look up at him with wide eyes, but Shikamaru can’t help it. “No, of course not.” He doesn’t care if it’s been years. He still wants to punch all the ignorant bastards in this village who ever made Naruto feel like he was nothing but a worthless demon. He was a child, for God’s sake! “You are not a drag, idiot. You never could be.”

A heartbeat, and something in Naruto’s face and eyes softens, the shadows leaving his eyes, and a more believable, if still small, smile paints his lips. Shikamaru feels himself relax at that alone. “Got it. Thanks, Shikamaru.”

“You’re welcome.” It’s quiet for a good few seconds, and then, quietly, hesitantly, “So…do you wanna talk about it?”

Naruto blinks and then thinks. He could tell him what he’s thinking and feeling, but…right now, it’s all still kind of a mess inside, and that nightmare didn’t help. He might be able to help him figure out a solution, but he also gets the feeling that Shikamaru would tell him this is something he has to figure out for himself. With that in mind, he slowly shakes his head. “Not yet. I…I still need to…sort some things out. In my head and…my heart, too. How I’m feeling…you know?” Blue eyes leisurely move to meet brown. His tiny smile’s grown a bit. “But thank you. I’ll tell you when, okay?”

Shikamaru isn’t so sure he likes letting this lie, but…he trusts Naruto. He trusts that he’ll come to him if he needs someone to confide in. “Sure. Take your time. I’ll be here.”

Naruto softens, tries really hard not to think of the three clean-through sword wounds that traveled the length of Shikamaru’s midsection in his nightmare. He swallows, does his best to remind himself that the blood on his tongue isn’t real. His smile wavers, turns fragile, but then bounces back to be even bigger than before. “T-thanks, Shikamaru. You’re the best.”

Shikamaru’s cheeks color slightly at the compliment, not expecting it. Avoiding his gaze momentarily, he gently pushes Naruto back down on the bed. “Again, you’re welcome. Now…” he moves from the mattress back to his chair so he doesn’t crowd his friend, “…get some sleep. For real this time.” Sensing he’s nervous, he reaches out to squeeze his fingers again, leaving them there. If it’ll help him sleep and avoid any more nightmares for the night, he doesn’t mind. He offers a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. If I’m wrong, I’ll eat my words and do something we both know I think is a total drag.”

Naruto laughs, for real this time. It looks like some of his color’s finally coming back, too. That’s good. “A—” a big yawn interrupts him, and his eyelids start to droop; his exhaustion’s rushing back now that he feels warm and safe again, “—all right... Night…Shikamaru…”

He’s out like a light in just a few seconds, and that means Shikamaru can finally relax himself. He doesn’t plan on sleeping just yet, wanting to make sure Naruto really will be okay first, but he’ll get there eventually. Leaning back in his chair, head propped against the wall, he looks out the window at the clear, starry night sky. They might not be clouds, but they’ll do.

Something about all this tells Shikamaru that Naruto’s recovery won’t be as smooth as the last time.

But lucky for him?

This time, he has Shikamaru at his back.

[rachelstwomoms]

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU: Rachel’s Birthday (Part 1/?)

Sera is a big part of this AU, so if you want to know a little more about her character before reading this story, check her profile out!

Originally written as a birthday gift for @ohdoeadeer .

------------------------------

Stupid.

The birthday girl sits alone, face twisted into a deep scowl, watching her party from her from her spot on the edge of the sofa. Some of her classmates are crowded around the kitchen counters where the party snacks lay out in big bowls, grabbing handfuls of cheese-flavored chips, bright orange dust sticking to fingertips still wet from the pool. She can’t see into the backyard from the living room, but she can hear the boys howling and whooping wildly, playing some kind of obnoxious game that’s causing a lot of splashing. A few of her friends are taking a break from swimming and are watching her from the next room. Whispering. And from the way they keep glancing towards her practically every other word, it’s obvious that they’re talking about her.

Stupid.

Two girls break from their circle and slowly, cautiously come her way.

So she narrows her eyes, locks her jaw in a stiff frown and glares daggers at them. Daring them to take another step. When they freeze, changing their minds and quickly sitting back down, she smirks in satisfaction.

This party is stupid.

Her back itches and she twitches. Tilting her head backwards, she shakes out her long, blonde hair from where it was sticking to her shoulders due to a combination of chlorine, sunscreen and mid-July heat. Sighing and crossing her arms tightly across her chest, she presses herself deeper into the sofa cushions.

It’s not like she expected her party to pause for her.

It’s just really… no, hella unfair and annoying that everyone else gets to be happy and have a great time when this is the worst day of her life.

She wonders how much longer she has until Chloe and Maxine come looking for her.

“Rachel! Where are you?”

Speak of the devils.

Chloe, dripping wet and tracking water across the hardwood floors, spots her first and comes bounding over. Maxine, wrapped like a burrito in her oversized bath towel, trails close behind.

“What are you doing in here?” Chloe plops herself down on the sofa right next to Rachel. “You said you would be right back and that was ages ago. What were you doing?”

Rachel gives a short shrug and gestures to the half-empty cup of orange soda on the coffee table. “I was thirsty.”

“Oh, sweet!” Chloe grabs the cup and takes a swig, then passes it over to Maxine, who first peers inside at the liquid before taking a small sip too. “Anyways, you took forever so Maxine and I finished the game by ourselves.”

“We did wait for you,” Maxine insists, “but you never came back.”

“So, after you left, we found a secret underwater passageway that led us straight into enemy territory!” Chloe explains. “They didn’t see us coming, so we were able to sneak up and ambush them. They put up a good fight but, alas, they were no match for Captain Bluebeard and Long Max Silver!”

Smiling, Maxine frees one of her hands and holds up something shiny and round. “We got the amulet back.”

“Yeah, no thanks to somebody who abandoned her crew in their time of need,” Chloe teases, expecting a snarky comeback or a playful shove on the shoulder like usual. It never comes. Actually, it doesn’t even look like her friend’s paying attention. She seems to be in a strange sort of mood all of a sudden. Chloe waves a hand in front of Rachel’s face. “Hellooo? Earth to Rachel.”

“Are you okay?” Maxine starts to worry.

Rachel heaves an agitated sigh. “This party hella sucks.”

Chloe and Maxine share an equally confused, equally concerned look. After a moment, Chloe clears her throat and speaks in a lighthearted tone, trying to bring Rachel out of her funk. “Well, anyways, Rose told us to come get you. It’s time for cake!”

Although Rachel doesn’t give a verbal response, she allows her friends to drag her into the dining room where most of the party guests have gathered. Maxine leads Rachel by the hand to the empty chair at the head of the table and tells her to sit. Rose carries a pretty double-tiered cake from the kitchen over to the dining table, eliciting various noises of awe and excitement from Rachel’s sugar craving classmates. Already a skilled little actress, Rachel puts on her most convincing look of disinterest and boredom.

“All right, kids, step back please,” James says, clearing a small opening so he can reach the cake. He pulls out a matchbook from his pocket and he and Rose start to light the candles. It takes four matches and over a minute for the pair of them to get all twelve lit. Red, blue, yellow and pink wax melt into unappetizing puddles on the frosting, and Rose encourages everyone to hurry and start the birthday song while there are still candles left.

Chloe grins and starts waving her hands like the conductor of some grand orchestra, and Maxine and the other kids all start to sing.

------------------------------ 

Rachel the Pirate Queen is on a very important mission, entrusted by Captain Bluebeard herself. She only has a few minutes to return to their trusty ship, the Bane of Arcadia, before the tides change and it becomes impossible to reach the island tonight. If they don’t, it will be too late to reclaim their stolen treasure, and worse, their amulet will be in the hands of the enemy!

The most practical way to access the island is by swimming through a dark, treacherous underwater cave. But the entrance is always under heavy surveillance by evil mermaid guardians.  

And Rachel has a bunch of old mermaid dolls that would be totally perfect for their game.

The newly turned twelve year old leaps up the stairs two at a time and bursts into her bedroom, immediately opening her closet and tearing its contents apart. Rose will probably get mad at her later for making a mess, but she can deal with that when the time comes. Right now she has to find those mermaids. After going through the closet without any luck, Rachel starts to rummage through dresser drawers and bookshelves.

That’s when her phone rings.

Breaking into a huge smile, Rachel immediately drops what she’s doing and grabs her phone from her bed, flipping it open and hitting the “answer” button without looking at the caller ID. There’s only one person who could possibly be phoning her right now, and Rachel’s been waiting for this call the entire day.

“Hi Mom!”

“Happy birthday, Baby. I love you so much.”

“Love you too!” Rachel takes a seat on the edge of her mattress and cradles the phone to her ear. “Mom, where are you? You’re gonna miss the cake and presents!”

“Dawn, listen-”

“Wait ‘til you see the cake! Rose got me the special kind, you know, where there’s the bottom cake and then a smaller one stacked on top? It’s chocolate with chocolate frosting, and the frosting is really, really shiny, like the kind we had for my birthday last year. From that place near the mall that you and me went to! Remember?”

“Dark chocolate cupcakes. I remember.”

“The outside is covered in rainbow sprinkles and it’s so pretty. Mom, some of the sprinkles are tiny silver stars!”

“It sounds beautiful. Eat an extra slice for me, okay?”

“Chloe and Maxine are sleeping over tonight, but tomorrow we can-” Rachel halts mid-sentence as the implications of her mother’s choice of words hit her, and all of a sudden there’s a strange sort of heaviness in the pit of her stomach. “You’re still coming, aren’t you?”

“My boss called me late last night. Baby, there was a big mix-up involving some of the orders at work and he needed me to come in today to help straighten things out.”

“But you already took the week off. You told me that he said it was okay.”

“I know, Dawn. But I was the one in charge of those orders. They can’t fix the problem without me.”

“You’re almost done, though, right? You can take a later flight, and I can save you a piece of cake, and… and it’s okay even if it’s really late! I’ll stay up until you get here!”

“We’re trying to sort everything out as fast as we can, but things aren’t looking good.”

There’s a long pause of silence before Rachel speaks again. When she does, her tone is flat. “So you’re not coming.” It’s not a question. She already knows the answer.

“I’m so, so sorry. I want to be there with you more than anything. You know that, right?”

The longer Sera talks, the less Rachel hears. Her heart thumps in her ears. Her grip tightens around her phone. Her shoulders start to tremble, but not from the cold. In fact, her skin is still warm to the touch from spending most of the afternoon in the sun. “But it’s my birthday!” Rachel growls, voice strained and a pitch higher than normal.  

“I might be able to come up next week instead. I promise we’ll celebrate then.”

“NO!” Rachel is feeling a mixture of emotions, hurt and disappointment at the top of the list, but it manifests as anger and she explodes at Sera through the phone. “It’s not fair! You promised you’d come today!”

“Rachel, please. Believe me, I wish-“

“You’re a liar!” Rachel spits, the words spilling out as rage takes control of her mouth. “Forget it! I don’t care! This… this is BULLSHIT!”

Before Sera can say anything else, or scold her for throwing in a swear, Rachel snaps her phone shut.

------------------------------

The “Happy Birthday” song is a big, fat lie. Rachel isn’t happy at all.

About halfway through the song, she reaches her limit and she’s over it. Over everything. Everybody. Over this whole stupid party. Rachel tries to hold back her anger, tries to just keep her eyes on the cake and block out everything else, but she can still see everybody’s stupid smiling faces in her peripheral vision.

And she can’t take it.

Standing so abruptly and forcefully that it sends her chair skidding backwards several inches, Rachel grabs the platter underneath her cake and lifts it up as high as she can. The cake is heavier than it looks, so she struggles to hold it any higher than eye-level, but this is more than enough to cause her party guests to stop singing and watch her in confusion.

Having about a decade’s worth of experience dealing with her stepdaughter’s fiery temper and subsequent outbursts, Rose is the first to realize what’s about to happen. Her arms shoot out towards the cake instinctively. “Rachel, don’t-“

But the warning is a little too late, and Rose is pretty sure that it would have been futile regardless.

To everyone’s horror, Rachel smashes the cake down onto the tabletop. The top layer is knocked askew, cracking into two chunks, and the motion alone puts out all but three of the candles. A few of her friends gasp, but then shocked silence spreads through the room. Rachel can tell without even looking that everyone’s staring at her.

In the next second, Rachel bolts from the scene, pushing past several classmates in her haste and roughly bumping into somebody with her shoulder. She doesn’t stop to see who it is. Right now she doesn’t care. She disappears upstairs and slams her bedroom door behind her. James calls his daughter’s name and makes a move to go after her, but Rose stops him.

“No, James. Let her be.” Rose is all too familiar with Rachel’s tantrums and knows that there’s no point in trying to talk to her until she’s had time to cool down. “Right now I could use your help.”

While Rose and James decide what to do about the birthday cake situation, the rest of the room falls into chaos. The kids all start talking at once, some asking what’s wrong with Rachel… some wondering if there’s still going to be cake… but most expressing their utter astonishment at the cake incident.

“Hey! Maxine’s bleeding!”

The announcement is loud enough to be heard over all the clamor. Rose whips her head around at the mention of blood and spots Chloe fussing over Maxine, who’s in tears and has her hands over her nose and mouth.

Rose hurries over and sits her in one of the chairs. “Oh, Maxine, she ran into you, didn’t she? Let me take a look.” Carefully taking Maxine’s hands away from her face, Rose is met with the unpleasant sight of dark red blood trailing slowly trailing down the girl’s mouth and chin. “James, grab me some Kleenex, would you?”

“I’ll get it!” yells Chloe, jumping up. She quickly retrieves the box of tissues that she remembers seeing in the living room earlier.

Rose thanks Chloe, then grabs a handful of tissues and holds them against Maxine’s nose. Maxine pulls back slightly, crying out in pain, so Rose adjusts hold to one that’s more gentle. “Sorry, sweetheart. I know it hurts.”

Chloe stands by her best friend’s side and holds her hand. “Don’t worry, I promise it’s not that bad.”

After a minute, Rose removes the tissues and inspects the damage. The bleeding already seems to be stopping. “Chloe’s right. There’s not too much blood left. You’re going to be fine.” Behind her, James finishes inspecting the confectionery carnage and reports that the serving platter is still intact and the cake should still be safe to eat. Rose plucks some fresh tissues from the box. “Thank goodness. Here, Maxine, take these and I’ll check back on you in a bit, okay?” The woman runs off to wash her hands, then joins her husband in slicing up the cake for anybody who still wants some.

“Does it hurt?” asks Chloe, worried about her friend.

Maxine, still holding tissues to her nose, nods slightly. “Kind of.”

“Something’s wrong. There’s no way Rachel would hurt you on purpose.”

“I know,” says Maxine. “I think something really bad happened after she went inside.”

“Do you think she got into a fight or something?” Chloe wonders. She lowers her voice so only Maxine can hear. “Or maybe she got in trouble. Do you think Rose found out about the-“

“Think I found out about what, now?” Rose suddenly reappears from behind, startling the girls. Chloe shakes her head and starts to stutter, but Rose chuckles. “It’s all right, I won’t ask. How’s your nose doing, Maxine?”

Maxine slowly removes the tissues from her nose and waits a moment. She gives a tiny, careful sniff, but it doesn’t feel like there’s any more blood. “I think it stopped.”

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and clean up?” Rose hands Maxine a t-shirt that the girls recognize as one of Rachel’s. “When you’re done, give me your shirt. I’ll try to get those stains out.”

Looking down at her own shirt, Maxine sees the reddish-brown splotches that have already started to dry and set into the fabric. Her stomach churns at the sight and she gratefully accepts the change of clothes. In the downstairs bathroom, Maxine rinses herself off and gets changed. She comes back out blood-free and looking as good as new. She hands Rose her soiled top with a shy thank you.

“No problem, dear,” says Rose, taking the shirt. “Girls, could you go upstairs and see how Rachel’s doing? I don’t think she’ll want to talk to me or her father just yet, but she might appreciate having you two there with her.”

Chloe and Maxine nod. Even if Rose hadn’t asked them, checking up on their friend was already next on their list of things to do.

“What happened?” asks Chloe.

“Do you girls remember Sera, her mother? Sera was supposed to be at the party today, but she ended up not being able to come. Rachel’s… understandably upset.” Rose gives a sad smile. “Anyway, you girls go on ahead. I’ll be up in a bit to check on her.”

Chloe and Maxine climb up to the second floor and stop in front of Rachel’s room. Chloe knocks, then opens the door a few inches and sticks her head inside. Rachel is lying on the bed facing the opposite wall. “Rachel?” Chloe pauses for an answer but she doesn’t get one. “It’s just me and Maxine. We’re coming in.”

Walking into the room, Chloe glances around. The closet looks overturned and Rachel’s belongings are strewn all over the floor. A few drawers are open, their contents messily tossed about as well. “Hey, are you okay?” When Chloe is once again met with silence, she turns to Maxine only to find her still in the hallway, clinging to the door frame. Chloe gestures for Maxine to hurry up and come inside. After a moment of hesitation, Maxine runs on her tiptoes to catch up to Chloe, who climbs onto the bed next to Rachel. Maxine perches lightly on the very edge of the mattress.  

“Rose told us about your mom,” Chloe says. “That hella sucks…”

Silence.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

More silence.

Rachel still hasn’t moved, nor given any indication that she’s even aware of Chloe and Maxine’s presence. So Chloe makes herself comfortable and motions for Maxine to do the same. “Well, it’s okay if you don’t. We’ll stay here to keep you company. Right, Maxine?”

Maxine finds her voice. “Yeah, it’s not a party without you.”

“Rach, you should’ve seen Maxine earlier. You clocked her in the face good and her nose was, like, gushing blood-”

“Chloe!” Maxine swats her friend on the arm.

To their surprise, Rachel rolls over, pushing herself into a sitting position.

And she speaks!

“Oh my god, really?”

Chloe and Maxine and relieved to hear Rachel’s voice again, even if it sounds tired and scratchy. They take a good look at their friend’s face for the first time since before the cake catastrophe. Although Rachel’s eyes are dry now, there are shiny tear streaks down her cheeks and it’s obvious that she had been crying.  

Maxine’s tone goes soft. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Sorry. I totally didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay!” Maxine gives Rachel a small smile. “We’re, um… more worried about you.”

“Oh.”

“If you wanna tell us what happened, we’re here to listen,” Chloe repeats.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Rachel sighs, scooting backwards until she’s against her headboard. Chloe and Maxine are watching her intently, waiting for her to talk. Normally, Rachel loves being the center of attention, but this is a sensitive topic and her friends’ gazes are making her uncomfortable. Keeping her eyes down, Rachel hugs her knees to her chest in attempt to feel less vulnerable. “My mom called.”

As soon as Rachel mentions her mother, her voice breaks and her tears start anew. Chloe moves right beside her and puts an arm around her shoulders. Even Maxine ventures to a new spot on the bed closer to her friends. Neither of them speak. They just let Rachel vent.

“She said she’s too busy to come to my party... even though she promised!” Rachel’s voice is thick with emotion. “It’s not fair! Why did Dad have to make us move so far away? I hate it here! Now I never get to see her!”

“But she still texts you, like, every day, right?” Chloe tries to cheer Rachel up. “That’s pretty cool.”

“And you talk to her on the phone,” Maxine adds.

But Rachel snuffles and shakes her head, letting out a quivery, shuddery sob. “It’s not the same!”

There’s a knock on the door, and all three girls turn to see Rose standing in the doorway. “Rachel, honey, can I come in?” Taking her stepdaughter’s lack of a response as a yes, Rose walks around to the other side of the bed and takes a seat. “I know you’re disappointed. Your father and I were looking forward to seeing Sera today too. It’s completely normal to feel sad.”

“I’m not sad!” Rachel glares in Rose’s direction. “I’m mad! She cares about work more than me!”

“Oh, Rachel, you know that’s not true.”

Rachel scoffs. “Well, she’s not here, is she?”

“Honey, come here,” Rose says gently, opening her arms towards Rachel. The girl tries to keep up her tough front, staring hard at her stepmother for a few moments, but Rose waits patiently, looking at her with eyes full nothing but love. Sure enough, Rachel’s defenses crumble and she surrenders, breaking away from Chloe and falling forward into the embrace. Rose’s hugs are always warm and comforting. Her anger melts away, leaving just the hurt behind.

Rose was right.

She is disappointed.

For as long as Rachel can remember, Sera has always been there on her birthday. She’s been at every birthday party and every special birthday dinner at Rachel’s favorite restaurant. There’s plenty of photographic proof in the photo albums Rose has compiled over the years. Rachel has so many special memories celebrating her birthday with her mom. On her ninth birthday, Sera surprised her by showing up at her theater camp with birthday treats to share with the other campers. When Rachel turned five, she had a really bad cold and wasn’t able to leave the house, but Sera came over with a box of cake mix and a tub of frosting and they made a birthday cake together. She even got to lick the batter off the spoon!

But this was before they moved to Oregon. When the Ambers still lived in California, Sera was only a fifteen minute car ride away. Rachel saw her mom all the time.

And everyone knows that it’s impossible to get from Long Beach to Arcadia Bay in fifteen minutes.

Rachel thinks about her mom and wonders how many more birthdays she might miss now that they’re a thousand miles apart.

Rose was right.

She is sad.

And so Rachel cries for what feels like several minutes, or days, or years, or maybe an eternity. Rose just holds her tightly and rubs soothing patterns onto her back until she gets all her feelings out and has no tears left. There’s still a smidge of sad left, the kind that will only fade with time, but, compared to how miserable she was earlier, the birthday girl is feeling a whole lot better now. Taking a deep breath, Rachel pulls away and looks up at Rose, ready to confess the truth that she’s been keeping inside all day. “I just really, really miss her…”

“I know, I know…” says Rose, brushing the remnants of Rachel’s tears away with her fingers. “And I know she misses you. But she loves you with all her heart. So do I.” Rose leans down and kisses the top of her stepdaughter’s head. “So does Daddy. And Chloe and Maxine.”

Rachel looks over her shoulder at her friends, who nod their heads enthusiastically. Chloe puts her hands over her heart and playfully bats her eyes at her before erupting into laughter. Maxine watches, shaking her head at Chloe’s antics, but then she turns to Rachel and gives her a sweet smile.

Her friends are such dorks. Rachel can’t help but let out a tiny giggle.

“Are you feeling better now?” asks Maxine.

Rachel shrugs. “A little.”

“See, Rachel? Right now there’s a house full of people who care about you and want to celebrate your big day with you,” Rose continues. “What do you say? Will you come back downstairs and join us?”

Chloe clasps her hands together and makes exaggerated puppy dog eyes. “Pleeease?”

“You’re so weird.” Rachel lightly shoves her backwards, laughing. “Fine, let’s go.”

“Yes!” Chloe pumps her fist in the air and runs for the door, calling to her friends to follow. “Come on, slowpokes, let’s see if there’s any cake left!”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming!” Sliding off her bed, Rachel turns to Maxine and holds out a hand. As much as she loves Chloe and her silly antics, Rachel’s really glad that she also has a friend like Maxine. Maxine’s quiet, but not too quiet. Perfect quiet. There’s something about being with her that brings Rachel comfort, and that’s exactly what she needs right now. “Sit next to me, okay?”

Excited to have Rachel back, Maxine happily takes her hand. “Let’s go before Chloe eats it all.”

The girls head downstairs and find Chloe sitting at the kitchen counter, shoveling cake into her mouth. There are two slices already waiting for them, forks, napkins and all. Rachel takes a serving and sits next to Chloe, waving Maxine over to the seat on her other side. But before either of them can take a bite, a couple of Rachel’s classmates burst inside the house, shrieking excitedly at the sight of the birthday girl.

“Rachel! There you are!” exclaims one of the girls. “You have to come outside! We just started a new round of spin the bottle truth or dare and, like, the whole class is playing!”

Maxine furrows her brows in confusion. “Spin the bottle truth or dare?”

“Me and Juliet are gonna try and find out if Justin has a crush on someone,” the other girl says in a teasing tone, eyes sparkling mischievously.  

“Dana!” Cheeks turning a faint shade of pink, Rachel pretends to kick her. This only causes Dana to squeal again. “Not so loud.”

“Leave us alone. We’re trying to eat,” Chloe mumbles through a mouthful of cake. Rachel raises an eyebrow. Her friend suddenly sounds grumpy, but she shrugs it off.

“Chloe, Maxine, you guys have to play too!” Juliet insists. “Come on, just bring your cake with you!”

Rachel is on the fence. While she would very much love to stay in the house and finish her birthday cake, this game does sound kind of interesting. Imagine all the juicy gossip. This might be her chance to find out all sorts of things about her classmates. And, well… Rachel does kind of want to know if there’s somebody Justin likes. She looks to her left. Chloe makes a grossed-out face and signals a thumbs down. She looks to her right. Maxine only gives her a vague sort of smile.

Neither of which are very helpful.

Curling her lips into a pout, Rachel turns back to her cake. “I don’t know.”

Dana tugs on Rachel’s arm. “Come on! It’ll be awesome, I promise!”

“Oh my god, look!”

Suddenly, Juliet’s shouting and pointing at something outside. Rachel looks out the sliding glass doors just in time to catch one of the boys doing a backwards flip into the pool. Fully-clothed. The corners of her mouth curl upwards ever so slightly. This party could still turn out to be fun.

Maybe one little game won’t hurt. Of course, she still has to convince her friends to join her. Maxine won’t be a problem, it’s Chloe who will be more of a challenge. Rachel isn’t really worried, though. All she needs to do is play the birthday card and there’s no way Chloe can say no.

And even if she does, Rachel has a few more tricks up her sleeve.

She is a skilled little actress, after all.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Time Flies - Ryan Ross x Reader

Requested on Wattpad Word count: 1 821

The water was cold around your feet, as you slowly walked into the pool. The white, thin trouser you wore sucked up water that crept up the fabric, turning it a darker shade. You took a few more steps deeper into the water, trying to get used to the temperature. It was an early morning in LA, the air was already starting to heat up under the first beams of sunlight that made their way over the hilltops, but the water in the pool had cooled down over night. You took a deep breath and simply walked in all the rest, trying to hold the white shirt down that tried to resist getting wet by catching air bubbles.

“Is it very cold,” a girl asked from the side of the pool, also preparing to get in.

“Not warm enough for my liking, but it’s okay,” you answered.

She nodded and climbed in as well, followed by three others.

You took another deep breath and let yourself sink in the water, getting your whole torso and head wet as well. At first it felt freezing, but after a few moments you got used to the temperature.

“(Y/n), can you swim a little further into the middle of the pool,” the voice of your friend Z sounded over to you.

You nodded and swam a closer to where she had asked you to be.

“Like this,” you wondered, floating on your back.

“Perfect,” she laughed, “we’ll get the cups and petals.”

You stared up at the dusty blue sky as you waited. When Z had asked you to be an extra in her new music video, you had agreed immediately. You liked the color concept for the video. Everything was either white or red. The house you were filming at was completely white, all the people wore white and only the red solo cups, petals and smeared lipstick everyone was wearing was red. The idea behind the video was that Z had poisoned all her friends during a party and the day after, she was walking through the field of destruction. So you were basically playing a corpse.

It had been a little strange, arriving at this house at what felt like the middle of the night. It had still been a few hours until sunrise so all the people could be introduced to the idea. Now that the sun had started creeping over the horizon, things had to work quickly, because it was only a short timeframe in which the light would be perfect.

Suddenly red petals rained down on you, fell into the water at your sides and drifted into different directions. You turned your head and saw that some of the other extras were helping with setting up outside. The people lying around the pool were already in position.

“We need a few solo cups in the pool,” you heard Z say, and a moment later the quiet splash of water told you someone had thrown a few cups in.

“Now everyone stay very still, we’ll start filming,” a voice called that you did not recognize.

There was shuffling of feet, probably people who were getting out of the shot.

You closed your eyes and listened to the sounds around you. There were crickets chirping somewhere in the bushes, and wind crippled the water, making it hit the walls of the pool. You tried to relax a little, allowing your head to sink further into the water that rushed over your ears, drowning out the starting music that was used for Z to orientate on while filming. You felt the wet fabric of your clothes weight down on you. It was a strange feeling, since you were not used to floating around in a pool, wearing clothes.

It had been a little awkward when you came here this morning, since you knew barely anyone apart from Z. Most of the people around were friends of hers who you had met once, at the most. Since Z was organizing everything, you had felt a little lonely. You had never been the most outgoing of people, and you were not very good at reacting to being thrown into a social situation like this. Luckily only a few minutes after you had arrived, a familiar face appeared by the door.

You had known Ryan for years now. You had always liked him, he was a really good person, and you had been sad for Z when things had ended between the two of them. But that they still were so close friends, made you happy. A few months ago Z had asked if you were interested in Ryan. You had been confused, not sure what she was talking about. She had told you that she thought you and Ryan would make a cute couple and if you wanted, she would help you set something up. You had laughed. Sure you liked Ryan, and since he was not dating Z anymore you even allowed yourself to like him a little more, but you were pretty certain that Ryan was not interested you in that way. This conversation had repeated itself a few times since, the last time when she had called you to ask if you wanted to be in her video.

Ryan had smiled when he had seen you between all the other people, and had immediately made his way over to you. His hug had been warm as always, and his white clothes fit in perfectly with the scene of the house. You had chatted for a while, caught up on each other’s lives, until Z welcomed everyone. You had helped him apply his lipstick later, after he had asked for help. It had been a foreign sensation to run your fingers over the soft skin around his lips, smearing the lipstick. You had felt his eyes on you the whole time, making you nervous. Without asking he had taken the lipstick from your hand once you were done and unscrewed it, offering wordlessly to return the favor. You had stood very still, trying to breathe evenly while his finger gently applied the make-up.

When he had been finished, he had stepped back, looking at his work for a moment.

“You look like you just heavily made out with someone who wore a lot of lipstick,” he commented with a giggle.

“So do you,” you answered with a smile.

“Then it’s perfect,” Z piped in, placing her hands on your shoulder, “you two look amazing.”

“You look amazing,” Ryan replied smoothly.

“She always looks amazing,” you added, earning a grin from Z.

“You’re too kind,” she had laughed, “but (Y/n) here looks extra beautiful today, don’t you think Ryan?”

Not waiting for an answer, she had skipped away already, wanting to check on her other friends as well.

You were torn back into the present when the voice of the cameraman sounded over the garden.

“Well done everyone! To the people in the pool, we would like to make a few additional close ups, so if you could stay still for a few more moments,” he announced.

You just stayed where you were, floating on the water, keeping your eyes closed as you heard people move around at the side of the pool.

The water started to feel cold now, and you knew it was about time you got out soon. Luckily it did not take long to shoot the close ups and only a few minutes later someone announced that you were done. There were still some shots that had to be made, so not everyone was released yet, but you were allowed to climb out of the pool.

You swam to the edge and pulled yourself up, your wet clothes and some rose petals sticking to your body, your lips almost quivering from feeling so cold.

“Here, let me help,” a warm hand closed around your arm and helped you out of the water.

A moment later a dry towel was wrapped around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, lifting your glance to see who had helped you.

Of course it was Ryan, standing in front of you with an adoring smile, his brown eyes warmly meeting yours. The lipstick that had been smeared around his lips was already whipped off.

“You must be freezing,” he commented worriedly, “let’s get you inside. Do you have something you can change into?”

You nodded. “My bag’s by the hall-stand.”

He accompanied you past the camera team that was filming the last few shots, and into the hallway where you grabbed your backpack.

A few minutes later you stepped out of the bathroom where you had dried off, whipped away the lipstick, and redressed into something that was not drenched with pool water.

Ryan was waiting outside the door, still dressed in white while you were now wearing a red shirt and some short blue jeans.

“You warmer now,” he asked, quickly looking you over.

“A little,” you smiled.

“Here,” he grabbed a jacket from the coat hanger that you recognized as his, and put it around your shoulders, smoothing out the fabric over your arms.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks.

Maybe Z was not so wrong, maybe you and Ryan really would make a cute couple.

“So what now,” you asked, trying to push your nervousness away.

“I thought, maybe you would like to grab some breakfast together,” Ryan suggested, whiskey brown eyes focused on you expectantly.

“That sounds like a good plan,” you agreed, definitely happy that Ryan seemed to want to involve you into his morning.

“And… maybe you also would like to go out with me some time?”

The second question was more hesitant than the first, but his eyes were still focused on you.

“Oh, yeah,” you answered surprised, not being able to resist the smile that pulled the corners of your mouth upwards, “definitely.”

“Great,” Ryan beamed, grinning wildly, “Shall we?”

“I just quickly wanna say goodbye to Z,” you let him know and turned around into the direction of the living room where she was currently chatting with some of her friends.

“Hey, we just wanted to say good bye,” Ryan who had followed you into the living room, told her.

“Oh sure,” Z grinned and hugged him. When she saw that you were wearing Ryan’s jacket, she winked at him and while hugging you, she whispered: “Told you, you would be cute together. I don’t get these ideas out of nowhere.”

She pulled back and laughed at your blushing face.

“Have fun, you two!”

You said good bye and waved, turning around back towards the front door.

As you stepped out into the Californian morning sun, Ryan hesitantly took your hand in his, and when you did not pull back, he closed his fingers around your cool ones. Hand in hand you walked down the gravel path towards the city.

[dreadlord-mr-son]

Decided I’m going to start posting the Colony AU onto Tumblr as I write it.

Even though it’s self-indulgent twaddle that requires knowledge of several different fandoms and many personal AUs known only to me, my friend, and partially to my mom.

Even though one of the intro characters is an OC I don’t feel I’ve introduced enough on Tumblr yet.

Because A. I’m hoping the knowledge that you’re wading into the deep end with no swimming gear won’t stop all of you B. Good incentive to introduce Wynn and her AUs better, eh? C. I just want to

...still don’t have a real name for the Colony AU yet, so we’re just sticking with the existing tag for now. --- NOTES.

This is a pretty stream of consciousness fic. I’m just having things happen as they happen, I’m not planning anything out. There’s zero attempt to manage pacing. If I go off on a tangent for 3 pages talking about some special interest of mine that’s vaguely relevant. Well. That’s just where we are today

This is my self-indulgent fic paradise.

I have no idea how dark, horny, or otherwise this fic will get, but the main intention is to focus on the struggles of surviving in a world where the only sapient lifeforms in existence are the ones I chuck in for my amusement.

We’re starting with an FMA AU Wynn from my barely-started fic Be Thou For The People (I know it’s hardly a unique FMA fic name. Shush.) and a Wolfwood from a pseudo-modern fantasy verse I call “City AU” based loosely on the unused concept for Zootopia that got written out of the final version. The collar stuff. Only for us, they go on mages with the wrong type of magic.

Enough preamble. Have fic.

---

Part 1 of ?

--- --- ---

When the world crumbled around her and left her standing in that white void once again, she couldn't feel anything for a moment but sheer terror.

Wynn took one step, then another. Emptiness. Her Gate looming behind her, connecting her to the Truth of the world. But Truth wasn't here, not "in person" as it had been last time.

There was no one to greet her. No one to explain what trespass she might have committed in her sleep on the train to Central.

"What the fuck?" she asked the nothingness. With an abruptness that felt like it should have made an audible 'clunk', white was replaced with dark, and Wynn and her Gate started falling.

---

Wynn's memory was a little fuzzy, as she woke. Which was normal enough in the first few seconds of consciousness, so she didn't think much of it. The soft crunch of wild woodgrasses was under her back, and her face was damp with morning dew. Why was she sleeping in the yard this early in the spring? That was a great way to freeze. Though it wasn't that cold for some reason... and what even WAS that bird call? She couldn't recognize the "cheer cheer cheer cheeeeerah" pattern of its song.

Wynn opened her eyes to dark green leaves over her head, heavy and thick in a way the trees definitely weren't in her yard. And even the trees she had weren't whatever this oak-mimic species was. That fruit could NOT be a real apple. The fuck?

Wynn sat up.

She was inside some dense, mixed woodland made mostly of those unknown fruiting trees, and some thick-trunked birch-like species. Mosses and short grasses coated the ground, with tufts of a thicker, taller grass spotting through here and there. There was a clump of it under where her shoulder had been, now half-crushed and reeking as powerfully as upset crabgrass.

Part of Wynn wanted to continue her exploration of the bushes and flowers and all the other strange not-quite familiar plants all around her... but she was hearing the burble of water nearby, and knew that if she was as lost as she thought she was, finding a secure source of water was probably the most important thing she could do.

It wasn't very far, really. The trees had blocked her sight of it, but barely over a small hill was a fat stream flowing through the woods. The water was so clear she could see fat fish darting around through the reeds.

But what froze her in place staring was what was flying above the water, ponderously waddling through the air. It looked like a bee, but was the size of a chicken. It wasn't reacting to her bursting through the brush, at least, but Wynn couldn't help but be wary of a bug that size with the power of flight.

Wynn scuttled a few meters further downstream away from the weird giant bee, and crouched down by the water.

Crystal clear, like glass... but that didn't mean it was safe to drink.

Wynn clapped her hands together and reached for the Truth anchored in her soul. It was strangely more of a strain than usual? Like she had to reach extra far to find it, but she found the sense of the chemistry of a water molecule, gripped it, and reached again, this time for the energy deep in the earth to power her alchemy and pull pure safe drinking water from the stream.

She set her hands on the surface of the water, envisioned the circle she need, and her transmutation exploded in her face.

Wynn screamed and threw herself backwards as blue arcs of power and frothing plumes of water scattered everywhere. Fish flew through the sky, landing in trees with squishy plaps and the survivors thrashed and shook the branches. Wynn hurried away from the chaos in a crab-like backwards crouch. Sure, water alchemy could be complicated and confusing, but pulling pure H2O out of solution was one of the simplest forms of water transmutation that even apprentices could pull off. Sometimes she did it just to dry wet clothes faster.

But somehow it had gone horribly, awfully wrong. It was like she'd both mangled <i>and</i> overpowered her circle.

She hadn't done anything like that since she'd seen Truth. Wynn clutched at her upper arm where her automail joined to her flesh. Years. It had been years and her alchemy had never blown up on her so badly doing a simple transmutation.

Wynn stared down at her hands. That hadn't been like a normal rebound. Basic survival said don't take risks, but science said perform experiments and test things...

Wynn slowly pressed her hands back together, reaching for Truth once again but not starting a transmutation. What had that been? What went wrong?

Knowledge passed by just out of reach of her questing mind. Like fingertips brushing against the fruit you wanted to pull down from the tree. If she could just stretch a little further... Just push a little harder...

A wave of weariness washed over her, and Wynn yanked her hands apart, panting. Every breath burned, like she'd gone running on a hot day. She sat down, forcing her breaths to slow and deepen, listening to the fish flopping in the trees. There was a splash as one of them fell back into the water. Good for him.

It didn't take long for Wynn's energy to come back. She pushed herself up again.

"Okay, right. No alchemy for a bit. Gotta do things the old fashioned way."

---

Wynn had been on her way to Central to turn in her yearly reports and visit her sister, so she hadn't exactly brought any of her yard tools with her. A pocketknife and a strong arm was at least helping her break off and strip some branches to make a lean-to a few minutes walk away from the stream. Uphill, in case it flooded. She wasn't exactly a survivalist, but she knew how fast water could rise in the spring.

It would be a shoddy protection against rain or wind, so she hoped the weather was as gentle tomorrow as it was right now. Even if a warm spring promised for a shitty summer, she didn't want to deal with more typical weather until she either had something more comfortable built, or found her way back to civilization.

A terrified little voice in the back of her mind kept whimpering that it wasn't sure there was any civilization she'd be able to find.

Wynn hadn't seen any smoke through the treetops. Not from houses, or campfires, or from a train winding its way through the mountains. She'd been on the main Central to West City rail line. That train ran multiple times a day. She should have seen some sign of it in the distance if she was anywhere near it.

...if she was anywhere near it, she should be able to recognize the trees and birds around her. The fish. The small mammals scurrying around in the brush. Everything she saw and heard was at least slightly... off. The fish weren't quite trout. She'd grabbed one anyway, for lunch once she got the fire going. It tasted enough like trout, at least. She wouldn't have to worry about starving if she could make some kind of line and hook to work with. The rest of the dead fish she threw back into the water. Let their corpses return to the ecosystem and hopefully make up for killing so many of them by mistake. Also, prevent any predators from following their smell back to her in the night.

Truth, but what sort of predators might be out there in the woods? Bears? Wolves? Unknown things that would look like something she knew between the trees until it was upon her and she realized too late it wasn't anything she knew how to scare away?

Wynn knew she was avoiding the real reason she didn't think she was in Amestris any more.

She didn't want to think about a place that was nowhere and everywhere. White as both death and all the colors of light. About an emptiness that had, the first time, held a smile that wasn't friendly but... understanding, as it explained her trespass and the payment she owed for even attempting to reach past the boundary.

"Shit!" Wynn dropped her knife as the feedback from her automail twanged, sending a random jolt of pain straight into her nerves. She'd been putting off getting her automail tuned again. It was going to be such a big expense, and it hadn't gotten in her way too much yet. A spike of pain here and there didn't keep her from working. The locking fingers could be unlocked with a little grease and wiggling. She could just work around it until she had her budget approval for the year...

She'd thought that up until she had to gut a fish with fingers that felt like they had grit in the joints. And while she did have her basic maintenance kit on her, she was kind of expecting her sister's help the next time she opened things up to do a bit of polishing and bolt tightening.

Wynn tucked one last branch into the web of sticks and leaves and stepped back to have a look at her work. The front was wide open, so if the wind picked up she'd be in trouble, but it should at least keep the rain off and hold in some of her body heat through the night.

So okay, she had a little food, and basic shelter, and access to water. What was next on the list? She hadn't been camping since before she joined the State Alchemy program, and she'd never done any kind of hardass survival camping. Maybe she should scout around a little for landmarks so it would be easier to keep from getting lost?

---

The water was the easiest landmark, so Wynn was following it upstream when she heard the crying.

She followed the hopeless, gulping sobs until she found a young man under a tree. Wearing light-colored summer clothes in a style she didn't recognize, that were soaked through completely. He had a huge rat of a bruise curled around one of his eyes, fresh and still darkening. He was sitting in the moss with his back against the trunk of one of the not-birches, his knees curled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He looked like a teenager, but he had the body language of a lost six year old.

Wynn stopped several meters away, not wanting to spook him. He should have heard her coming with her heavy boots, but even if the groundcover wasn't muffling her footsteps, he was clearly too lost in his misery to really notice the world around him.

"Hey." Wynn called, "Far from home?"

The crying cut off as the guy's head jerked up to stare at her. Getting a solid look at his face, Wynn adjusted her sense of his age up a little. Older teens. Maybe even of age? His face was still soft and youthful, but a few stray hairs were fighting their way out of his chin.

"Wynn?"

Now it was Wynn's turn to stare. But even as she opened her mouth to respond he was shaking his head, "Sorry, you're not actually her. You look a lot like my friend and-" he hiccuped and swallowed back another sob. "Where is this?"

Wynn shook herself. He thought she looked like his friend. Who shared her name. "I dunno, sorry. I just got here too." As he was starting to lower his head back to his knees, despondent, she added, "Your friend wouldn't be Wynn Fayram, would she?"

He froze, squinting at her suspiciously. "Maybe. Why?"

" 'Cause I'm Wynn Fayram."

"Bullshit."

"No seriously, I even have paperwork with me saying as much."

The guy started to unfold and push himself to his feet. "Why the fuck are you lying to me about something so stupid?"

"I'm not lying. Seriously. I can get the paperwork out for you." Wynn shrugged like this freaky, freaky situation was no big deal.

The paperwork clearly did not help. When she handed it over his glare turned absolutely baffled as his eyes flicked up and down the pages. "What language is this?"

"Amestrian." Wynn answered, just managing to keep the uncertain waver from her voice. "What else would it be?"

"English? Minecraftian? Even dwarvish I guess, not that anyone does official paperwork in that. Too rare, but..." he trailed off, eyes locked on her sign up photo. The first picture she'd had in uniform after passing her State Alchemist license exam. She looked so young... Nineteen years old and sure that a government paycheck was the solution to all of her problems.

It had helped, she told herself now, flexing her gritty automail fingers. Without it how could she have afforded the automail upkeep? Her sister's medical school? The donations to her orphanage? The house she'd moved into when she'd aged out of the system? Her father was never a rich man and his inheritance only stretched so far.

She shook the memories away. It was a terrible time to get lost in thought. Lost together with a teenage boy who apparently couldn't even read Amestrian. <i>A boy who talked like dwarves were real, and named languages she'd never heard of... Was he mad, or was she more lost than she wanted to admit?</i>

He was squinting at her again. Suspicion and contemplation so easy to read on his face. Clearly not a man of guile. she thought, completely ignoring that -- as a friend of Maes Hughes -- she was familiar with using sincerity as a whole new layer of guile.

Whatever this kid was thinking, he decided to deal with it later, folding her papers neatly along their existing creases and handing them back to her. "Nick."

"Pardon?"

"Nicholas Wolfwood. Um. That's my name. Pleasure to meet you." He offered a hand, with all the awkward stiffness of someone greeting relatives they only see around the holidays. Every taut inch of his body screamed that he still didn't believe her but it was just easier to play along.

She made sure to thicken her natural drawl in reply as she took his hand. "Major Wynn Fayram. The Reaping Alchemist. Nice to meet you." Really she was pretty used to 'you can't possibly be what you claim to be', but normally it was because someone was looking down on her. This was somehow both way funnier, and way more terrifying, because sooner or later she was going to have to accept-

This guy is from another world. With a different me.

She jerked back out of the handshake with a shudder. Waved him off when his suspicion flipped to concern. "I'm fine. It's not- ...I'm okay."

Nick hovered next to her, too nervous to reach out and try to support her with touch. Which was good. She needed a moment to breathe. To-

"Stay there." she told him, and hooked her good hand on a nearby tree branch and hauled herself up. His eyes widened as she swiftly climbed one of the weird fruiting oak-a-likes and buried herself in the twisting branches. It felt cooler in there, among the leaves. It even smelled like an oak tree, and that soothed her nerves a little. It was familiar. She took a few deep breaths and then looked down to check on Nick.

He was looking up at her, eyes half-rolled in a very teenage expression of exasperation. "Sorry I can't get you a beer but I don't think I can find a corner store around here."

"That's fine!" Wynn called back, stretching out across one of the larger branches, wrapping her legs around the trunk to hold herself stable. "I just needed a minute to think."

Nick nodded, understandingly. "You really are like her, aren't you? It's weird but. You <i>are</i> Wynn. A different Wynn. From... somewhere else."

Wynn took another few deep breaths and lounged on the tree limb. The sway of it, the roughness of the bark. It was so close to being an oak, like it was just some rare species of the family. "I have no idea how you're taking this so calmly."

Nick's face went dead-pan flat. "I'm really not." A shrug, and then he gave her a crooked half-grin.  "But I already spent like half an hour walking through a weird forest and crying. I can't just stay curled under a tree for the rest of my life having a nervous breakdown."

Wynn dropped her face into the wood and sighed. "No, I guess not. In the end we always have to face the Truth."

--- --- ---

[marvelatmytrash]

Mercy: Part 2

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Inspired by the song Mercy by Lewis Capaldi

Word count: 2659

Author’s Note: This is for Mee’s Writing Challenge, it will be a 3 part fic, that will hopefully be all finished up in time. Seeing as this is a canon challenge, this fic takes place directly after the end of Avenger’s: Age of Ultron, that being said, some of the starting lines are directly quoted from that final scene, I did not write them. Hope you all enjoy.

Mercy: Part 1

My Masterlist

Steve leans against the cold kitchen counter, sipping his water slowly as his eyes stare blankly ahead. Every interaction with you that had occurred in the last 2 weeks echoes in his head. Every time you laughed felt like a knife in his stomach, every smile a dagger.

There were reasons. Concrete causes that lead to your breakup last year… But then D.C. happened… Learning about Bucky… SHIELD falling… he never felt more alone then he did right now.

Steve sighs, his hand rising to pinch at the bridge of his nose as his head slumps down into his hand. His shoulders curling protectively forward as the memory of his confrontation with Bucky flashes across his mind.

“I’m not gonna fight you.” Steve shakes his head as he drops his famed shield through the broken glass panel, “You’re my friend.” Steve sighs, defeat evident as he stares at his fierce advisory, his best friend.

Bucky moves quickly, with a fierce growl he tackles Steve towards the ground and quickly pins Steve’s passive form to the ground.

“You’re my mission.” Bucky’s metal fist, the embodiment of his hydra identity slams against Steve’s face repeatedly. The contact of metal on flesh a symbolic cataclysm of the hydra and shield collision.

He grits his teeth, his jaw tense as his mind swirls. Wincing at the memory of the pain. Only to be replaced by another flash of recollection. As if his mind was purposefully digging for painful reminders in the late hours of the night, the last conversation he had with you swims before his blurred vision.

Steve blinks rapidly, trying to clear his head, disoriented by the oddly real scene coming to form in front of him. The memory manifesting in a mental apparition.

“I don’t understand.” She whispers, her eyes cast away from him. She stands before him, arms crossed protectively in front of her torso as she bites her lip. Her hip is cocked in a resting position as she glances back up at him. Her eyes bright and searching for an explanation.

“I know. I wish I could give you a better answer. I’m sorry.” Steve shakes his head, his eyes looking dolefully at her as he tries to explain his reason for the sudden breakup, but he didn’t have a clear explanation.

Breakups are never easy, but they are especially complicated when you still care about the person. It is hard to sever a tie when neither person truly wants to let go. But every week he spent with Y/N just complicated things. 

He never meant to get involved with her, never thought that he even had a shot. But so many nights spent on missions and in trainings had thrown them together one time too many, their attraction for each other bleeding into every interaction until Steve buckled against his better judgment and stepped over the line.

He knew now he was in too deep. He had put a mission in jeopardy because Y/N was at risk of being compromised. He knew he had to choose. He could be Captain America or be her boyfriend, but he couldn’t, in good conscience, be both.

“It’s because of the mission in Dubai, isn’t it?” She speaks quickly, her voice wavering as his frozen expression falters slightly at her words. She always did have an uncanny knack for knowing where his head was, even when he was drowned in his own thoughts.

He can’t let go, but he knew he’d been holding on too long. His stomach twists, his fingers twitching with a desire to reach out to her, hold her once more, not knowing when he would get the chance again. Not able to remember the last time he touched her, what if this is truly it? If this conversation is the end and he can’t remember the last touch, the last kiss.

Unable to resist his hand reaches for her, extending towards her fingers, dangling beneath her crossed arms, but she shrugs away, stepping back from his contact.

“Steve, we won’t be in that position again! It wasn’t a good call, I understand, and maybe we were compromised… But we don’t have to end this! You’re overreacting! We just shouldn’t go on missions together from now on.”

He shakes his head, letting his hand hover in the air between them, memorizing the lines of her face as her forehead wrinkles in defiance, furious with him for his decision.

“It’s not just Dubia, Y/N. It’s the world, what’s going on out there, it’s getting crazier by the day. And the more time I spend with you,”

“The less time you’re out there, risking your life for an organization that uses you like a pawn in a war that hasn’t even come yet.” She interrupts him, disgust painting her tone as she spits her bile-filled words at him. “So, what? I’m a distraction? Is that it?”

Steve’s eyes fall to the floor unable to look at her, wincing at the pain in her voice, unable to watch the hatred rise in her eyes as she looks at him. She shakes her head, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as she processes everything.

She suddenly stops her rocking, nodding her head firmly as she turns to move towards the kitchen chairs.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks quickly, stepping lightly on his feet as he mimics her movement. She snatches quickly at her jacket, bending the leather roughly in her hand as her arms crossed tightly over her chest once more. Without another word, she turns on her heel, heading for the door.

Steve moves quickly behind her, calling her name, “Y/N!” His low voice echoes through the empty room, drowned out only by the sound of her clicking boots as she moves swiftly towards the door. He calls out to her once more, her hand reaching for the door. She pauses, turning furiously, tears threatening to pierce her eyes as her gaze settles on Steve’s face.

“Goodbye, Steve. I’m sorry to have been a distraction to the Great Captain America.” She hurls his title at him, the menace and bravado in her voice causing him to step back, blinking slowly as she turns and moves quickly out the door.

His eyes focus on the spot where she had last stood, his hand extended slightly as his fingers tingle… when was the last time he had touched her… he rubs his thumb against his fingers, scrunching his eyes closed as he tries to remember. Fighting to recall the memory, the last touch, the last kiss…

His eyes sting as his fists rise to rub them, pushing forcefully to his face until black spots appear behind his eyelids. The only vision coming to mind is her look of betrayal, hurt, and fury as she said goodbye… that can’t be his last memory… her face etched with pain…

When was the last time I touched her…

“Y/N.” He whispers to the empty room.

“Oh sorry I… I didn’t know anyone else was awake right now. I just…” You stop in your tracks as you walk into the dimly lit kitchen, your finger fumbling to flick on the bright floodlights. Your body tenses as you see Steve standing there.

His face is red, his fists balled tightly, every muscle tense beneath his tight and sweat-drenched t-shirt. He looks to you hurriedly, seconds too late in disguising the flicker of alarm that had flashed across his face at your arrival.

You stand there, awkward for a moment as you take in his disheveled appearance, your shoulders relax as you slump slightly, cocking a hip out in a resting position as you furrow your eyebrow at him.

“Captain?” You speak slowly, cautiously, noticing him wince as you say his title, “Steve… are you alright?”

His eyes flash up to you, the regular blue-green nowhere to be found in his gaze, taken over by a pale grey, a sky over a stormy sea. You move cautiously closer, stepping towards the fridge to pull out the Brita filter, reaching into a neighboring cabinet for a purple cup. Your eyes never move from Steve as he watches you, breathing silently.

As you turn back towards the fridge to return the Brita, he finally speaks. You freeze, the pitcher still in hand. The hair on the back of your neck rising slightly at the gravely quality of Steve’s quiet voice.

“I can’t…” He sighs, his voice catching in his throat, “I can’t remember our last kiss.”

You place the pitcher in the fridge, keeping your back to him as you shut the door slowly, your hand resting on the handle as your head leans down slightly, taking a few deep breaths as you process his words.

“The last time we were together and happy… I can’t remember it… I want to be able to remember that… but all I remember is the end…”

You take a deep breath as he falls silent once more, you can feel his eyes on the back of your neck. Feel him watching you as you look at the fridge, recalling the memory. The moment of silence seemed to stretch for eternity, both of you frozen, unmoving. You finally feel his gaze fall from you, hearing his fingers fumble with the water glass against the marble counters.

“It was the same morning.” You speak suddenly, Steve’s eyes flashing up to glance at your back once again as you turn slowly to face him. He watches you, noting the shakiness in your tone, mirroring his own.

“The day we ended… it was that morning. I had slept in your bed and you were getting up early to go for a run. I woke up and asked if you’d bring me some water before you left. You finished tying your shoes and brought over a cup.”

Steve watches you, biting his lip as his own brain fills in the images from your reported memory. Remembering the details of how his D.C. apartment was laid out.

Even which side of the bed you had curled up on after he vacated. You always rolled to his deserted spot, curving into the slight indent on the mattress, appreciating the warmth that he left behind.

“I sat up and you sat on the side of the bed while I drank some water, you told me you were going for a run and had something with SHIELD, but you would be back later.” You pause your voice catching slightly, “Then you slid your hand into my hair, and gave me a quick kiss… almost like it was a habit… And then… you left, just like that.”

“And we broke up that afternoon…” Steve speaks quietly, his voice low as his arms cross in front of him, his blank eyes staring into the darkened corners of the adjacent dining area.

You nod quietly, watching him as you pick up your water, taking a large sip. “You came back that afternoon and something was different… and then... everything was different.”

Steve looks at you, his brow furrowing with a pained expression as he takes in your appearance for the first time. You wore a tattered old CIA t-shirt, with grey sweats set low on your hips, the lowest part of your abdomen slightly exposed by the edges of the loose fabric. Your hair is tied up in a messy knot, loose tresses falling out sporadically around your face.

“I’m sorry about how it ended,” Steve finally says, causing your eyebrows to rise in surprise. You look at him, watching his expression for any hint of emotion, but he had become well trained in keeping a passive expression. You lean forward on the kitchen counter, resting your elbows on the cold marble as you look at him.

“I never meant to hurt you Y/N… it just all got so out of hand… but I never…”

“Don’t.” You hold up your hand, interrupting him, your voice low and gravely as you swallow hard, trying to regain your composure as you let your head hang down. Your hand rubs at your forehead, smoothing out the wrinkled lines between your eyebrows as Steve watches you, waiting.

“Just don’t Steve. I don’t want an apology from you, not now.” You shake your head, your hand falling to rest on the counter once more as you look up to him. He bites his lip, watching you, his silent brooding radiating from him, the weight of his guilt emanating throughout the large kitchen.

“You did what you thought was right.” You look deep into his eyes, watching for a flicker of emotion, waiting for his stoic mask to slip and expose his true feelings. “You have always done what you’ve felt is right. It’s why I fell in love with you in the first place.”

You see his body tense at your words, his arm muscles bulging as his jaw hardens, the subtlety of his movement enough to betray his emotional response to your words, the memory of your affection being enough to freeze his breath in his chest.

You sigh, your head falling forward slightly as your hand rises to push a loose hair from your eyes. 

“Look,” You shake your head slightly, looking at Steve. “I get it… I didn’t then, but I do now. Especially after everything in D.C…” You purse your lips for a moment, opening your mouth to speak more before thinking better of it, your teeth chewing roughly at your swollen bottom lip.

He flinches slightly at the reminder of all he had endured in the last year, his eyes falling from yours as he resumes his stoic glare.

“I’m alright… no real harm done. So you can let yourself off the hook for this one Rogers, ok?”

Steve nods quietly, his mouth drawn tightly into a thin line as you watch him carefully. 

“Are you alright Steve?” Your voice is quiet and low as you ask him, his eyes flashing up to you nervously once more.

He nods slowly, “Yeah… just… nevermind. I’m just going to make a snack and call it a night.” You raise your eyebrows at him, not believing his unconvincing response. “Thank you, Y/N, but really, I’m alright.”

You nod slowly, seeming to accept his answer, or at least understand that the conversation was over. You finish your glass of water in a large gulp, quietly placing the cup in the dishwasher as you slowly move in front of Steve.

“Whatever is going on… I know we’ve had our issues, but I’ll always care about you. When you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be here.” And with that you lean forward into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as you nuzzle into his chest.

His body is stiff for a moment, as if not sure how to react to your hug, but his muscle memory quickly responds to your contact as soon as the familiar scent of your shampoo hits his nose. His arms rise quickly to wrap around you, encasing you in a tight hold as he rests his chin on top of your head, inhaling your scent.

His eyes close, his mind both racing and oddly blank as he tries to memorize the feeling of your skin pressed against his. Concentrating on the steady beat of your heart against his chest. But just like that, it was over and you were pulling away. Smiling softly as you turn, exiting the kitchen, a murmured goodnight falling from your lips, leaving him standing there in the dim light, the ghost of your warmth still radiating across his chest.

He stands there for a moment, his eyes focused on the place where you had just been. His mind wrapping protectively around the memory of the warm pressure of your body against his, the smell of your shampoo still permeating the air. He feels a small twinge in the pit of his stomach, a physical manifestation of the pain he felt seeing that you were alright, while he continues to feel the ache of your absence.

She says she’s alright… but I’m not alright…

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