leftneb · 19 days ago
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Curiositas aka sirens!AU
in which Lando is a siren with species dysphoria and Oscar is the defintion of Just Some Guy, who happens to get caught up in Lando's mess. and obviously they fall in love along the way etc etc
I first posted about this idea over 2 months ago and I'm happy to announce that there is now a fic in the works!!! which will likely take at least another 2 months because goddamn the concept outgrew itself (as you can tell by the fact charles and max also, like, exist now) it's sitting at ~8k words rn, which is by far the longest thing I've ever written in my life already, but story isn't even close to being finished, so yeah it'll take a while lmao
for now though I have some character designs and lots of thoughts, which I'd like to share :3
ramblings about their individual designs and details below the cut!!
and massive thank you to my dear partner @lailau7904 for not only holding my hand through writing the fic so far but somehow being even more insane about this whole AU than I am???
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LANDO
main character (and POV holder) his design isn't based on any real fish, closest resemblance is to a fake fishing lure (reference provided)
very little scarring despite sirens' hunting culture, some tiny cuts and scratches around the top of his tail from smuggling pretty stones and shards of glass
absurdly bright green scales (I really could've made him fluorescent but I think that would be overkill) which is absurdly shit for stealth purposes but good for catching the attention of potential victims
vague triangle shape language but in a semi-elegant way
doesn't eat fish and would rather not eat human either
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MAX
fills the position of a leader in his and Lando's colony, inherited the role in his late teens but grew up to it pretty quickly
shark motif, all sharp and angular shapes, visibly intimidating
lots of scars collected during hunts, wounds covered over by red scales from Charles
his scales are pretty dark but they shine blue when the light hits them just right (plus Charles' scales are a bright red lmao, which is a bit suboptimal for stealth but he thinks it's worth it)
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CHARLES
koi fish motif, soft and round shapes
no scarring at all
has known Max since they were kids but actually didn't meet Lando until their 20s despite Max and Lando being childhood best friends
considered legally dead by monegasque officials (this has lore reasons which I'm not about to spoil)
GENERAL NOTES
the AU plays in a modern setting, altough sirens are very behind on human technology
their gills are on the side of their ribs! they can also all breathe with their lungs above water
funky scales patterns on their torsos around "modified" areas such as their gills and back fin
they have no hands but don't let that fool you! I was simply too lazy to draw any, what you would see if I did draw them tho would include:
webbing between fingers!! matches the colour of fins
longer, and more solid, claw-like nails
wrinkled palms and fingertips
I really wanted to make Max and Charles' torsos more life accurate but could not be arsed, they all have Lando's body type, aka I've accidentally twinkified Charles and Max lmao
by now you might have noticed that there's no design for Oscar, and as much as I really want to make a siren design for him that would have some pretty heavy lore implications so I'm... hesitant to do so
other people on my sirenification waiting list are:
George Russell and Alex Albon (for the 2019 rookies circle to be complete)
Franco Colapinto (based purely off vibes)
the whole grid really god I'm so ill
for the record Logan is a human in this AU but he IS present fuck you James Vowles
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you may have also noticed the papaya version I labeled as McLaren themed (this one is also the highest quality image I have in this thread if you're gonna do any zooming in please do it on this one,,,,)
all throughout writing and drawing I couldn't help but think about another banger siren!Lando fic: Salt Skin by @strawberry-daiquiris! in which Lando has orange slash papaya scales, which I just had to draw honestly
a lot of my design process was also inspired by a piece by @dumbf1sketches (it's somewhere in the pile of other gorgeous art in that post)
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bonus underwater version of all of them because it wasn't bright enough for me to feel good about it being at the top but it's still like, the main colour example to my brain
TAGLIST(S)
AU @mintraindrop @cx-boxbox (I know the og post is from actual ages ago but you two were interested so I humbly offer you these crumbs)
ART @santongkabayo @cyclonixi @alto-the-avocado @loquarocoeur
people that put up with my ramblings on dc @lyslsstuff @peppysinc @girlrussell
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bitchesuntitled · 1 month ago
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Broken Hearts Mended
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader, Joel Miller x F!Reader
Warnings/Tags: 18+ Minors, get out! Language(at this rate, just expect it. That's just me), Pregnancy, Dieter trying to fix his past, sad!Dieter, dad!Dieter, smut, pinv, oral(m!recieving), wedding crasher!Dieter, TIME TRAVEL, OFC
a/n: This is for the Roll-A-Trope Challenge by @burntheedges I got Time Travel! Never dabbled with that before but it was fun and sheesh, Kate- this is the longest story I've ever written! This could be considered a part two of Some Broken Hearts Never Mend but can be read as a standalone! The OFC is based off my bestie IRL @hessofather - thank you for being you, for helping me with the witchy stuff, and love ya bitch! Thank you @beefrobeefcal and @jay-zzle(for the moodboard &) for your eyes on this one! Love you both!
Masterlist||AO3
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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He’d been staring at the clock for an eternity or what felt like an eternity. Today was the day, the day Dieter’s been dreading since he found out. 
Today is your wedding day.
In typical Hollywood fashion, a friend of a friend let it slip when the wedding was. Saturday afternoon, 3 pm to be exact. Mark was supposed to be on standby to ensure Dieter stayed at home today and didn’t do something stupid, but what Mark didn’t expect was to be locked in the pantry with Dieter sitting outside.
“Dieter, come on man,” Mark pleaded, “Think about this before you do something dumb.”
“Would it really be that bad if I went?!”
“Yes,” Mark sighed, “Dieter, you need to let her go. If you go to that hotel all that will happen is you make a fool of yourself and embarrass her!”
“Embarrass her?!” Dieter scoffs, looking at the closed door with offense. “I got sober for fucks sake! For her and she didn’t even let me see my kid! Instead that bastard is playing daddy to my Lexi! My peanut!”
“Dieter!” Mark shouts, slamming his fists against the door, “Let me out and let’s talk face-to-face about this.”
“Sheesh Mark, calm down,” Dieter says, glancing at the clock, “If I go, maybe she’ll see me and remember how much she loved me. I gotta try right?”
“Dieter, please,” Mark sighs, “Don’t do this. It’s not a good idea.”
“I have to try, Mark.”
“Damn it, Dieter!”
More punches are being thrown at the pantry door as Dieter slowly backs away from it.
“If I don’t try now, I’m just going to spend the rest of my life wondering what if!” Dieter shouts, “Mark, you gotta understand that man.”
Dieter was able to bribe a waiter into letting him in through the kitchen, he had tried the front but the hotel staff quickly guided him right back through the front door. The place was gorgeous, decked in all navy blue, gold, and white, and the flower petals spread down the aisle he stood in front of. Joel is standing next to the officiant, fiddling with the gold cufflinks on his wrists. The bridal song began and everyone looked back at Dieter.
He stood there frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard the door behind him open, he turned slowly. There you were, standing before him in a gorgeous flowy white gown.
“Dieter?” You asked, confusion painted across your face before it turned into a silent rage.
“I- I need-“ he began, trying to think of what to say.
“Jesus Christ,” your father muttered under his breath before shouting for security.
“Wait-“ Dieter gasped, as two men in suits grabbed his arms pulling him towards the hall, “Please! Let me just ha-“
“Wait!,” you shout panicked, before clearing your throat, “Sorry everyone,” you announce, “Let me just take care of this real quick then we’ll be ready to get this wedding started.”
Dieter was dumbfounded. You were actually going to listen to him. You wanted to hear what he had to say. He knew it! He still had a chance. You let go of your dad’s arm and looped it around Dieter’s, leading him out into the hallway with a polite reassuring smile to your guests.
In another life, this would be the way it went. You in your gorgeous wedding dress, walking down an aisle on his arm, smiling politely to your guests before he whisked you away to ravish you the entire night. Once the doors closed, you stepped away from him clearing your throat.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You hiss, the rage in you tipping over its boiling point.
“I wanted to-“ he starts softly before you interrupt him again.
“Wanted what Dieter?!” You seethe, “Did you not feel it was enough when you showed up at my home? My work? Lexi’s fucking school?”
“I didn’t think-“ he winces, knowing immediately those are the wrong words with the laugh you let out.
“No Dieter, you didn’t fucking think,” you scoff, “You’ve spent the past six years not fucking thinking and it’s shown plenty!”
“Baby-“ Dieter tries again.
“Don’t you dare call me that!” You stop him, “Dieter, you need to leave. I’m marrying Joel and Lexi finally has a dad who wants her and loves her.”
“But I do love her,” Dieter says, tears blurring his vision, “That’s why I stayed away from you both. I love you both so much, I didn’t want you wrapped up in my shit and I’m trying to change!”
You shake your head with a sigh.
“You just have to give me another chance,” he whimpers, the tears steadily falling down his face.
“No,” you say quietly, “You’ve had enough chances.”
You were officially done with his shit and let him know he’d be hearing from your lawyers on Monday. His heart broken, his mind felt numb, and Dieter’s legs began to move. He felt like pins and needles were pricking all over his skin, trying to ignore the feeling, he began to speed up. He’d be fine as long as he kept moving. His chest felt like there was a weight on it, trying to catch his breath.
He needed to find somewhere with air conditioning, maybe it’s the heat finally getting to him. Standing outside a store called Vixen’s. Huh, he thought, a sex shop would be the perfect way to distract his mind. A dinging sound chimes as he enters the store.
“Good afternoon!” A cheery feminine voice calls out from the back, “I’ll be right with you.”
Dieter stood next to a counter, focusing on his breathing. The place smelled like sage, rose, and lavender. This was definitely not a sex shop. His hands held onto the counter in front of him as he closed his eyes and took in the sweet aroma of the shop. Whatever it was, it was working to help calm him down.
“Sir?” A feminine voice called out to him, “Ya alright?”
Dieter looked towards the voice to see a short woman with auburn hair standing next to a door that stated Employees Only. He gave a short nod, signaling he was okay. He just had to focus on his breathing.
“Fuck!” She gasped, flailing her hands in the air, “It’s you! C’mere!”
“Huh?” Dieter asked in confusion, trying to catch his breath.
“C’mere!” She said more sternly, motioning for him to follow her, “Been expectin’ you to show up any day now and you’re finally here!”
Dieter began to follow the stranger apprehensively down a hall, passing multiple doors, as she began to talk more.
“The names’ Willow Vixen. Now that you’re here, maybe I can finally stop using the rose.” She states, wrinkling her nose, “Not my favorite but that’s what the ball suggested for your arrival. Considering it doesn’t give me much of a time frame I figured fuck it and just started making sure it was around at all times.”
“Ball?” Dieter asks, his legs taking over, continuing to follow Willow until they meet a door that has her name on it, “I’m sorry but do I know you?”
“Not yet, Dieter,” Willow hums, grabbing a key ring from her belt loops, and unlocking the door, “When we get inside I’ll explain.”
Once she opened the door, he was hit with a powerful smell of sage and rosemary. She ushered him in, closing the door behind her.
“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to a table in the middle of the room.
He wasn’t sure what he was even doing here. Following a stranger into some back room of a store sounded like the beginnings of some ritual sacrifice and by the way her office was set up, it looked like it, too.
The room was dim before Willow fluttered about lighting candles while humming, beginning to shed more light on her space. He could see a table covered in an emerald green cloth with four chairs surrounding it, and a crystal ball sat upon a perch in the middle of it with dozens of candles surrounding it.
“So… uh,” Dieter hesitates, hands scrubbing through his hair. The fuck is he doing here? He should leave. Willow continues to hum while she lights more candles by a thick open book sitting on a desk, flipping through the pages before she stops.
“Ah-ha!” She announces with a joyous clap, “Would ya look at that! Found it on the first try.”
She looks up to see Dieter still standing by the door with a nervous energy about him.
“Gah damn it, Dieter,” she grumbles, approaching him, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya. I’m here to help ya. Now go on, sit,” Ushering him to the table, lightly patting him on the shoulders, “Let me just get a few more things ready before I truly start this process, alright?”
��Help me?” He asks, watching Willow move in the space around them. She grabbed a bottle and began spritzing it around the chair he sat in.
“Duh, I told ya,” Willow said with a raised eyebrow smirking, “Oh wait, maybe I didn’t? Did I?”
Dieter looked at her in bewilderment, continuing to watch as she placed the spray bottle of liquid beside him and grabbed incense instead, placing them in their holders and lit them.
“T- tell me what?” He asked nervously, placing his hands in his lap and beginning to fidget with his fingers.
“My apologies, sir.” Willow bows, “I am a witch! Well, kind of a-a witch. I’m a witch practicin’. My great great great great grandma was one and it kinda skipped a generation or two cause my folks decided we should follow Jesus instead. Ya in any sort of religion? I’ve been involved with… too many.”
Dieter shakes his head. Fuck, this is how it ends, he was right. She’s gonna sacrifice him.
“I’m spraying lavender right now to try and get your ass to calm down,” she states matter of factly picking the bottle up again, Dieter flinches when she sprays some directly onto his hair, “Your energy is thick with nerves. Now what was I sayin’?” She asked, stopping in place and staring at the table cloth.
“Oh yeah! Sorry, I have a disorder where my memory ain’t the best. Think Dory from Findin’ Nemo,” Willow smiles brightly, “I’m a witch and this here crystal ball-” she taps a finger against the clear ball in the middle of the table, “-showed me to be expectin’ ya.”
“Sh-showed you?” Dieter asks, cocking his head to the side with wide eyes.
“Yeah!” Willow exclaims, “Showed me you comin’ here, us doing some magic and then you fuckin’ off to whatever it is you’re tryin’ to change!”
“Wait,” Dieter stops, eyes widening, “What am I changing?”
“Beats me,” Willow shrugs, fanning the incense around before plopping down in the chair across from him, “Alls I know is I’m supposed to help ya get there.”
Dieter looks at her and then the ball in between them. It starts sparkling inside as the clear crystal becomes dense with a weird purple fog, swirling around the inside of the crystal.
“Oh shit! It’s doin’ the thing again!” Willow shrieks in excitement, bouncing in her chair, “I told ya the thing showed me what I needed to do! Maybe it’s trying to show you what you need to do.”
Dieter stares at the ball before the swirling fog reveals you lying in your shared bed years ago. He remembers this morning clear as day, it’s the morning before he went to that stupid party and relapsed.
“It’s her,” he chokes back a sob, “What kind of sick fucking trick is this?!”
“It’s not a trick!” Willow protests, “I’m tellin’ the truth! Just watch the damn thing!”
Dieter continues watching the fog swirl within the ball, seeing himself join you in bed. Dieter perks up as he watches himself undress you and begin worshiping you like the goddess you are. Willow clears her throat turning her head.
“Ope,” she murmurs, cheeks becoming flaming red, peering at the ceiling out of privacy, “Don’t think I’m supposed to watch this bit.”
Dieter is entranced, watching the two of you, reliving that entire day. Except in this version he never leaves the house, he stays home with you instead. That’s what he should have done, stay home and hang out with you instead of go to that stupid fucking party.
The purple fog disappears and the crystal becomes clear again, leaving Dieter even more confused.
“Wait!” He shouts, gripping the ball with both hands, “Come back! Show me more!”
“Now hold on just a damn minute,” Willow scolds, pushing his hands off the ball, “Don’t break my damn ball. It’s the only one I got.”
“But I want to see more,” Dieter lets out a pathetic whine, “How can I see more. Make it show me!” He demands.
“Not how it works, bub,” Willow huffs, “But, from the looks of it that’s where the ball wants me to send you.”
“S-s-send me?” Dieter stutters out with a scoff, “How are you gonna send me back to the happiest time of my life?”
“Time travel, duh,” Willow snorts, “The hell do you think you showed up here for?”
He looks at her with bewilderment. How the fuck is this girl supposed to help him go backwards in time?
“Now, now,” Willow says, clicking her tongue in annoyance, “I recognize that look. Ya don’t believe me,” she adds with a roll of her eyes, “I’ve got everything ready.”
She stands making her way to a small tea kettle, filling it with water from a jug before placing it on her desk beside the book. Willow moves through her office with a practiced ease, opening and closing cabinets, grabbing the things she’ll need for this ritual. Taking one last glance at the book on her desk before clearing her throat.
“Now, I’m gonna brew this tea for you to drink. It’s got some cloves, rosemary, garlic and cinnamon in it,” she explains, plunking and sprinkling the herbs in the kettle, “Oh shit!” She laughs, opening a desk drawer to pull out a small hot plate, “Ain’t gonna get very far without boilin’ it.”
Dieter watches as she softly hums, flitting about the room as the tea gets ready.
“Now, I got white sage and mullein burning already,” Willow explains pointing at each, “Helps with clarity.”
He nods, still confused and a little scared. He has no clue how this is supposed to actually work. Time travel isn’t real, this isn’t some movie like Back to the Future. Although, he thinks tilting his head, would be pretty cool to drive the DeLorean. His thoughts are interrupted by Willow chanting something over the tea right as the kettle lets out a shrill whistle. Willow pours the tea into a little cup bringing it over to the table, placing it in front of Dieter.
“Ain’t gonna lie to ya,” Willow grimaces, “Probably gonna be nasty as fuck with the herbs I had to use but it’s what the book said to use.”
“Probably not the worst thing I’ve ever ingested,” Dieter shrugs, “So how’s this work? Do I just drink it?”
Willow nods, “I said the spell, I have the scents going, all you have to do is keep an open mind,” she continues with a smile.
Dieter nods, staring at the cup. What’s the worst that could happen? His life is already fucked. At least he can say he tried if it doesn’t work, grabbing the cup and downing the drink. Willow was right- it’s rancid, he begins to cough placing the cup back on the table.
“Now what?” Dieter asks with a grimace, glancing at Willow.
“Now,” a grin spreads across her face, “We wait.”
- - -
The sun’s rays shone through the curtains causing Dieter to wince as he woke the next morning. How was he supposed to know if the ritual worked? Willow said they just had to wait. Wait for what though? Hearing a soft groan next to him he peeked one eye open at the sound, looking around he noticed this wasn’t his room. Well, more so not his room anymore. The soft yellow walls and white curtains had all been replaced after you left with dark grays.
Glancing next to him, he felt like his heart stopped. There you were, snoring softly next to him. Maybe he was dreaming and his mind decided to torture him, it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened but then you reached for him. Your hand laying on his chest above his heart. Dieter didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, shout with joy or all three at the same time. His palm reaches out, gently touching your face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers to your sleeping form as he rubs the apple of your cheek with his thumb, “I was such a fucking idiot.”
You crinkle your nose and let out a huff as you sleep. A grin plastered across his face, he can’t believe it actually worked. If he ever sees Willow again he’s going to have to thank her. She may not know what for, with traveling back in time, but he’ll thank her anyway. 
“You’re staring,” you let out a sleepy grumble.
“Can’t help it,” Dieter whispers, grinning like an idiot. You open an eye to look at him, raising your brows.
“Why are we whispering?” You giggle, scooting closer to lay your head on his chest, listening to the thump of his heartbeat.
Dieter takes a deep breath into your hair, shrugging his shoulders, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight. Afraid if he loosens his grip you’ll be gone again. His hands begin to roam under your shirt, feeling the softness of your skin, the roundness of your belly. You’re still pregnant, grinning to himself as he sits up and moves you to lay on your back, rubbing his hands down to your hips. You’d always complained of them hurting with the added weight of Peanut, their little Lexi who would be coming into this world.
“Mmm,” you let out a soft moan, as his hands gingerly massage your hips, your fingers digging into his thigh, “Dieter.”
He couldn’t stop smiling, unable to believe this is actually happening again. Being with you, being back in your shared home, being here during the happiest time of his life. Dieter leans over your belly, pulling up your shirt to expose your bump, placing a soft kiss there.
“I love you,” he breathes out, his voice cracking before trying to get a grip on his emotions. 
“Babe?” You ask, concern lacing your voice as you reach for him, “What’s wrong?”
“Missed you,” he says, kissing your bump again, “Both of you.”
“Babe,” you laugh, “All we did was go to sleep.”
“Yeah,” Dieter huffs, rolling his eyes, “Just went to sleep,” he hums, lifting your shirt more to uncover your breasts, his lips placing a trail of open mouthed kisses until he meets one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a soft hiss as your fingers tangle in the soft waves of his hair. There’s one thing Dieter knows he can’t fuck up, sex. He’ll figure the rest out later.
You moan as he spends equal time on each of your breasts, sliding a hand down your front into your underwear. Dieter lets out a groan when he feels the wetness already collected there. He needs this, to you it was yesterday, to him it’s been six years since he’s felt you around his cock.
“I need you,” Dieter grunts, pushing you on your side, flopping down behind you and pushing his boxers down. His stiff member pushing into your ass.
“Jesus, Dee,” you giggle as he quickly pushes your underwear down enough to get to your core, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Please don’t,” he whispers into your neck, slipping his length between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Dieter grips his dick, slowly pushing into you, simultaneous moans spilling from both of you.
“Fuck, baby,” you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder, “So fucking big.”
Dieter pants, feeling your walls constrict around him, stopping himself when he’s fully sheathed inside of you. He doesn’t want this to end before it’s even begun.
“Oh god,” he whimpers, grabbing your hand, lacing your fingers together, “Missed this.”
“Dieter,” you pant, hips squirming against him, “I need you to move, baby.”
He nods against your head, slowly pulling out, his tongue laving against your pulse point as he sharply pushes back in.
“Fuck,” you cry out, gripping his hand tighter. He knows it’s your favorite so he keeps the same rhythm, pulling out slowly before plunging back in. He can’t stop the words flowing from his mouth as he thrusts into you. His pace grows quicker as he speaks.
“Please don’t leave me,”
“I need you,”
“I love you,”
“I won’t fuck up again,”
“I promise,”
“I love you.”
Every phrase punctuated with a sharp thrust into your wet heat, producing a moan from your lips.
“Dieter,” you moan, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna-“
Dieter can feel the fluttering of your walls, gripping you tighter he moves faster, unable to control himself any longer.
“Fuck,” Dieter groans, “Look at me, baby.”
Your head lolling against his shoulder as his hips snap into you, he grips your face turning you to face him. Slotting his lips over yours, smothering your cries as your orgasm rips through you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dieter grunts, grinding his hips into you as your walls constrict around him, warm ropes of his come painting your insides. He kisses you softly while both of you try to catch your breath.
“You okay?” You ask, eyes gazing up at him.
Dieter nods, keeping his arms wrapped around you.
“Bad dream,” he murmurs into your hair.
“I’m sorry babe,” you give him a sympathetic smile, giving him a quick kiss before moving off of him with a hiss, “Wanna go look at stuff for the nursery?”
“Hmm,” Dieter hums, wrapping his arms around you again before you can leave the bed, “Let’s stay in bed all day.”
“We just woke up,” you squeak out with a giggle, as he pulls you back against him, “Already need a nap?”
“After that workout?” He laughs, kissing your neck, “Uh… yeah!”
Dieter’s eyelids are heavy. He felt calm, more at peace than he has been for years, having you back in arms, the comforting weight of you next to him. The hint of your perfume surrounding him, causing him to quickly drift back to sleep.
- - -
“Dieter wake up!” Mark shouts, “Time to go.”
Dieter jumps, how long had he been asleep? The room is dark as Mark flings the gray curtains open allowing the sun to burst in.
“What the fuck?” Dieter groans, covering his face with the pillow next to him, blocking the sun from his eyes. His sleep-addled brain hasn’t registered what’s happened.
“Come on, man,” Mark says more sternly, grabbing the covers to pull off of Dieter, “Gotta get Peanut.”
“Peanut?” Dieter asks, flipping the pillow off his face, sitting up taking in his surroundings, “No, no, no. This isn’t right.”
He looks around at the gray bedding, the curtains, the walls. Where’s your house? He was just there, wasn’t he? Was it just a dream after all?
“Yes. Peanut,” Mark says, giving him a confused look, “Lexi, Your daughter.”
“I know who Peanut is, Mark.” Dieter snaps, “But she won’t let me see her.”
“Dieter,” Mark scolds, “Do not tell me you've been using again.”
“What? No!”
“You’ve had your daughter every other week for years now.” Mark explains, “Are you sure you're not using anything?”
“You mean, I have custody?” Dieter asks, beginning to choke up, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 
Whatever Willow did, it worked, well kind of. If Dieter had some sort of custody of Lexi that means he must have changed something going back in time.
“I gotta go see Willow.”
“Willow?” Mark asks, shaking his head, “Dieter, you don’t have time to go on some wild goose chase looking for whoever it is you’re talking about.”
Dieter rushes out of bed, grabbing random clothes he finds throughout his room to throw on, running down the stairs to find his crocs.
“Dieter!” Mark shouts after him.
“I gotta fix it, Mark,” Dieter yells back, finding his car keys, and opening the front door, “I gotta fix it!”
“Willow!” Dieter bellows, bursting into Vixen’s, “It worked! It kind of worked!”
He hears a crash a couple aisles over and a gah-damnit!, before Willow appears at the front of the shop.
“The hell you comin’ in here yellin’ about?” Willow asks, rubbing the top of her head, “You made me drop a jar of Dragon’s blood on my damn head. I do not need any more feminine power right now!”
“Sorry,” Dieter chuckles, “I think we need to do the ritual again. I have custody!” 
“Custody?” Willow asks, confused.
“Custody of my kid, Willow!” Dieter says, gripping her shoulders giving her a little shake, “All I did was fall asleep, had a crazy vivid sex dream about my girl and now I have custody! I’ve never even met my daughter!”
“Alright, alright, alright,” Willow says, wiggling out of his grip, “Don’t touch me and I don’t wanna hear about your weird sex dreams but come on back.”
He follows her through the dark hall, to her office, the white sage and mullein is lit, the tea is brewed while Willow chants the magic words. He chugs it again. The warm liquid tingled in his throat as it went down.
“Not as bad the second time,” he sputters out through a cough, “Should you make extra so I can take it home?”
“Not how it works,” Willow chuckles, “Gonna have to come see me. Door will always be open.”
“I don’t understand how this is working at all,” Dieter admits, “All I did was go to sleep?”
“Maybe in your sleep is when you’re traveling,” Willow shrugs, “I won’t lie, I’m not sure how it works either. Remember, I’m new at this.”
Dieter leaves Vixen’s, feeling on top of the world as he makes his way to your house. He cannot believe he’s about to see his kid for the first time, well maybe not the first time but it is for this Dieter. He pulls up to the address he found saved into his phone under your name, taking a deep breath before getting out of his car.
He makes his way to the front door. It’s a different house than the last time he showed up, hoping you’d forgive him for running off and taking forever to get his shit together. Taking a deep breath he presses the doorbell, hearing the chime inside.
“Daddy!” He hears screeched from behind the door before it opens. A little girl looks up at him with wide brown eyes and soft curls.
“You came to get me!” She exclaims, grabbing his hand with both of her little ones and pulling him through the entrance.
“Y-yeah, I did,” Dieter murmurs, unable to stop staring at the back of her head. Her hair bounces with every step she takes as she continues babbling at him about something.
“Hey Dieter,” you smile at him from the couch with a book in your hand, “She’s been super excited for you to get her this week. Thank you again for keeping her an extra week.”
“Extra week?”
“Please don’t tell me you forgot,” you groan, “Dee, you promised me you wouldn’t forget! This is super important! Joel’s taking me to meet his family.”
“Joel?” Dieter asks, clenching his jaw, fingers flexing of his free hand against his thigh. Of course, Joel is still present. 
You study his face, taking in the tension rolling off him in waves, putting your book down and getting off the couch.
“Peanut, baby,” you say in a sweet tone, “Why don’t you go upstairs and get your stuff ready so you can go have fun at Daddy’s?”
“Okay,” she chirps, climbing the steps to the second floor. Leaving the two of you alone.
“Dee?” You ask, approaching him, “You doing okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Dieter lies with a nod of his head, “Just forgot you have plans next week.”
“Look,” you start, gripping his hand, “I know this whole thing is weird for you but I know one day you’re going to find someone to love,” Dieter’s thumb begins to rub against your fingers softly, noting the absence of a ring on your hand.
“You don’t get it,” Dieter scoffs, shaking his head, “It’s you. I want to be with you.”
“We tried Dieter,” you say, giving him a sympathetic smile, “We just aren’t meant to be.”
- - -
When he wakes next, Dieter is blinded by the brightness of the room, closing his eyes again, not ready to get up.
“Daddy,” a little voice says, poking his cheek with tiny fingers.
He groans feeling a weight on top of his chest. He can hear you humming softly downstairs in the kitchen, little fingers continue poking at his face trying to wake him.
“Peanut,” he chuckles, “Why are you poking my face?”
“Time to wake up!” She announces, standing up on chunky legs before plopping her butt back down. Dieter lets out a grunt before opening his eyes, spotting the soft yellow walls of the room. He can’t stop the smile forming on his face. He’s back to where he wants to be, this timeline seeming to be much better than the present.
“Come here,” Dieter playfully growls, tickling Lexi’s sides. Her high pitched squeals echoing throughout the house.
“Breakfast is ready!”
“Hear that Peanut?!” Dieter asks enthusiastically, “Momma made breakfast!”
“Breakfast!” Lexi shouts, throwing her arms up in the air, “I hungry!”
Dieter scoops her up as he gets out of bed, carrying the toddler with him down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Morning,” you hum, smiling at both of them, “The contractor was supposed to be here earlier but he overslept so said he’d be by soon.”
“Oh?” Dieter asks, setting Lexi down into her booster seat as if he’s done this every day, “Who’d we hire again?”
“Dieter, I swear,” you laugh, rolling your eyes, “You’d be so lost without me.”
“You have no idea,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your head as he grabs the plates of food you had set out, giving one to Lexi and sitting down next to her to eat his own.
“It’s Miller Bros,” you huff, “And no, they’re not like the Mario Brothers from Nintendo,” you add after seeing Dieter’s head perk up. You always were good about knowing what was on his mind.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” Dieter asks, stabbing his fork into the eggs, “Besides the contractor coming, I mean.”
“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging. The rest of the meal went on, the scraping of silverware against plates and random chatter from Lexi the only things to be heard. It was eerie how quiet you were, Dieter stared at you as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. He can’t pinpoint what’s going on but he feels there is something different here. Lexi finishes her breakfast, scooting off her booster and running off to watch TV.
“Is everything okay?” Dieter asks, fidgeting with the fork in his hand, he can’t risk losing you but he needs to know the answer.
“No,” you admit quietly, “I just- I don’t know what to do anymore Dee.”
“What do you m-“ he tries, the doorbell chiming interrupting his sentence.
“That must be the contractor,” you sigh, “Wanna start the dishes while I get the door?”
“Uh, yeah,” Dieter nods, “Sure.”
He gathers the dishes, rinsing each item before putting them in the dishwasher, hearing you speak with the contractor.
“I’m so sorry ma’am,” the contractor says with a gruffness in his voice, “Would’a been here earlier but my idiot brother wrote the time down wrong.”
“No worries,” you reply in a cheery tone, “You deserve the extra sleep, you work so hard.”
Dieter hears a deep chuckle from the man and a thank you, you’re too kind darlin’. It makes his stomach twist, he knows who this is. Joel fucking Miller. Can he not escape this guy?
Dieter slams the dishwasher closed, pacing throughout the kitchen. In his present time, the man is there. Now in his supposed past the man shows up too?! He wishes he could call Willow but a quick google search shows that Vixen’s doesn’t exist just yet, groaning as he tosses his phone onto the counter. What is he supposed to do?
He sees through the doorway how you look at Joel, the sparkle in your eyes, the way you seem almost bashful as Joel continues to talk about the most mundane things. Dieter can’t help the idea that’s popped into his head as he makes his way to the couch, sitting with your shared daughter as she watches cartoons.
It wouldn’t be the craziest thing he suggested, he’s Dieter Bravo. He’s definitely said worse things in interviews. He continues watching the two of you, the slight smirk on Joel’s face, the shy smile gracing your own.
Maybe if you fucked Joel you’d get it out of your system.
Dieter sees the attraction to Joel, of course he does. He’s rough, burly, and has that southern charm about him. The way his shirt hugs his biceps, his jeans clinging to his thighs. Joel clears his throat and Dieter snaps his head up, finding Joel staring directly at him, having been caught ogling he can feel his face turning a shade darker. You smile at Dieter, covering your mouth while a giggle escapes your lips.
“I’m gonna get started on the bathroom,” Joel says, eyeing Dieter on the couch, “Don’t let me interrupt your morning, Hollywood,” he adds with a wink.
You make your way to the couch, curling into Dieter’s side.
“So,” you giggle, with that sparkle still in your eyes, “Joel, huh?”
“Joel,” Dieter smirks, wrapping his arm around you, nodding his head. He brings you closer to his side, kissing your temple, before he scoops Lexi into his other side, keeping both his girls close to him.
- - -
“Dieter,” Mark says, giving Dieter’s shoulder a shove, “Need to wake up, you’re home.”
“Home?” Dieter grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face, he feels metal on one of his fingers. Eyes popping open, he spots a band on his left hand. Married. He’s married?
“Yeah, home,” Mark chuckles, “And don’t worry. I took care of everything so the three of you could spend some time together for the next couple days.”
Dieter grins, saying your name out loud quizzically, he needs to make sure it worked this time. Mark nods, he gets to spend time with his girls. His girls. Dieter hops out of the car, grabbing the duffle bag from the backseat.
“Thanks for the ride Mark,” he hollers as he makes his way to his front door, shaking with nerves as he stands there. Taking a deep breath he opens the door to find the house covered in darkness, flipping on the light he takes in the room before him. Toys, books, and small shoes scattered around. His smile grows wider as he hears a noise from upstairs.
You must be upstairs waiting for him. Dieter sets his duffle bag down next to the door before flinging his crocs off on his way up the stairs. The door of the master bedroom is opened by a jar and he can hear grunts coming from within.
Fuck, Dieter thinks, manly grunts can only mean one thing.
He tiptoes to the door opening it more, seeing you naked on your knees before Joel. His thick cock in your mouth as you bob your head faster along his length.
“S’it baby,” Joel groans, throwing his head back as you take more of him down your throat, “So fucking good at that.”
You’re moaning as he grips your head, holding you on his cock.
“Fuck,” Dieter whispers, feeling his dick twitch with interest, watching you gag on Joel’s length. Joel’s head snaps towards the doorway.
“Ya just gonna stand there Hollywood or ya gon’ join?” Joel smirks, eyeing Dieter up and down, “We’ve missed you.”
You moan, pulling off Joel's cock with a soft pop, twisting your body to see Dieter.
“Hi baby,” you purr at him, “Glad that you’re home.”
Dieter stands there frozen, watching you stroke Joel’s shaft with a sly grin.
This present time is nice, Dieter thinks with a smirk on his face, I can live with this.
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bluebudgie · 2 months ago
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Alright peeps. Obligatory first impression post. Not spoiler free this time.
Tl;dr having a really really good time.
Details:
Oof I'll try to keep this as short as possible (not short). And I'll try not to make it too much of a SotO comparison fest.
Maps
Let's start with the obvious one. And probably the longest one. The two new maps. I love both of them. Absolutely beautifully refreshing maps.
Lowland Shore is so rich both in layout and activities. It feels so full of life (dare I say one of the first maps in a while that feels genuinely alive), it's gorgeous to look at and really fun to explore. I got some Grothmar Valley vibes from this one in terms of how busy the map feels. Fun events and mini games at every corner, all packaged in a beautiful landscape. Also my jaw literally dropped when I dove into the bee cave lol.
Janthir Syntri (sick name, idk if syntri means anything but I love how it's written) feels a little less unique in terms of layout but it nails the atmosphere. The coast looks amazing and I adore the snippets of lore scattered all around the map. I've been absorbing those journal pages. This map feels kinda like Lake Doric if it were cool.
I cannot overstate how happy I am that these maps are largely walkable by foot, some vistas and mastery insights aside that require the warclaw. SotO's maps were by far the biggest expansion killer to me (a formal shoutout to Amnytas at this point which has officially dethroned Lake Doric as The Worst Map. That's two Lake Doric mentions in one post.)... and I'm just so happy we got really nice ones this time around. No Tangled Depths or Draconis Mons, but... really nice nonetheless.
Music
Similarly the new music is very pretty and atmospheric, but what else is new in this game. Haven't had a proper listen to the OST outside the game yet, but I do fondly remember one ambient song in particular which I'm curious to check out. I believe it plays in Janthir Syntri exclusively. Also the battle themes slap.
The masteries
Said this an earlier post already, but I like the mastery progression. It's been kind of hit or miss depending on the expansion, but this time around the unlocked masteries feel like meaningful upgrades to look forward to.
Story
Hell yea having a blast with this one. Love the Tyrian Alliance. Those meetings are absolutely hilarious. All these different people clashing and trying to stay diplomatic while wanting to tear each other apart. I like that a lot of older "loose" plot points were brought up for that occasion too.
The newly introduced characters are all really likeable and I feel like I already know more about them and their motivations now than we ever (unfortunately!) got to know about half of the SotO cast. Admittedly, we've got far fewer new characters this time, and that's probably a good thing.
I'm VERY intrigued by the whole golden city saul d'alessio white mantle direction we're moving in. As mentioned earlier, the lore journals and diaries have been CONSUMED.
Also, Rata Primus mentioned.
There's probably more to say and I'm probably forgetting half of the things I meant to say here. But this is once again getting way longer than it needs to be lol. Anyway [youtuber voice] let me know what you think in the comment section and see you next time
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cbk1000 · 7 months ago
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Is there a cap on the number of questions I can ask for the reblog ask game? XD 4, 11, 18, and 30, please!
Hope today is a great day! <3
4. a story idea you haven’t written yet I have tons. Some fairytale-inspired; I'd like to do a selkie fic. I also have a sort of Rapunzel-esque idea with Arthur being the damsel in distress locked in a tower. Another with Morgana as a sort of Baba Yaga-esque character and Merlin as her raven who used to be a man she turned into a bird for being annoying. Arthur is her annoying brother on a quest who needs her help; Merlin goes with him, of course, and Arthur breaks the spell on him and is highly dismayed to discover the annoying talking bird is a super hot man.
11. a WIP you’d like to finish someday Book of Merthur is the one I'm focusing on right now, though I do also have the sequel to the vet fic partially written.
18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic 'What he had written was, “Sorry. I am a tree.”'
30. share a fic you’re especially proud of My Imposter Syndrome is screaming, 'None of them, they're all crap!!!' but I'm going to kick it in the nuts and say Book of Merthur, because it's now officially the longest story I've ever written, and as a kid I read a lot of fantasy, and I feel like baby!Jenn would be stoked that adult!Jenn is writing a gay fantasy epic with lots of penis jokes.
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foreveralwaysanauthor · 10 months ago
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Melaka Mystica (Part 3/3)
January 18, 2024
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Notes - I wanted so badly for this to be finished for Mles' birthday on the 14th, but alas, it was only finished today, and although I'm so incredibly grateful that this story is now officially finished, I still sort of wish it had been done on time. Anyway, I believe this may actually be the longest individual chapter I've ever written - coming in at the halfway mark on the 59th page. I'm immensely proud of all that went into this project and, although this may wrap everything up, I can't wait to start something new! I know I should take a break - and I promise I will - but I'm excited to work on some shorter projects for the time being. I just have far too many ideas to not take the time to work on some of them 😂 Now, without further ado, here is the insanely long final chapter that I've been working on for what feels like forever!
We are out of time.
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As soon as the door closed behind Royce, the talking began. However, as soon as the sixteen-year-old uttered, “She’s definitely possessed,” Mick found herself sitting on the center cushion of the window seat, contemplating everything that had transpired. Two weeks ago, she had been possessed by ancient dark magic, and if Serena’s possession was anything like her own, they would need something big to take care of it. The only thing was, she had no idea how they would fix things for her.
When it happened to Mick, they had the help of her ancestors due to lighting the black flame candle, but now they didn’t have that wisdom. They didn’t have help, they didn’t have old, magical wisdom, and they certainly didn’t have an emerald candle. All they had was a book full of ancient recipes with no definite ingredients to make a candle and a spell book that would be rendered useless without said candle. After her possession on Halloween, Mick had gone through nearly all of the books in the basement library, hoping to find a recipe for the candle that cured her in order to rid herself of her headaches and the leftover side effects of the dark magic that had holed itself within her skin. However, to her dismay, there was nothing apart from an old book with a half-torn recipe. While Mick had been quite upset at the time, she had eventually gotten over it and forced herself to power through, but the lack of a finished recipe also meant they had no way to drain the dark magic from Serena.
With all the salt in the house used up for protection, they had no way of trapping her. And, if the ease with which she shattered the crystal was anything to go by, she was a force to be reckoned with. Had Mick been that bad when she was possessed? To be honest, most days, she couldn’t remember most of all that happened. There were bits and pieces of clarity - fragments of memories that haunted her most at night - but they were fleeting at best. More often than not, all she could recall was pacing in the woods, flying above the town commons, and the faintest moment of lucidity fueled by pride when Bentley threw salt at her possessed form. She couldn’t have been prouder of his quick thinking than she was in that fleeting memory.
There were other times when she could recall the entire night. Though she knew everyone involved knew all too well what had gone down and had filled her in on most of it, she only truly dealt with the full force of her memories at night. She wasn’t entirely sure whether it was due to her repressing the memories of that night or the fact that most of the events happened at night. All she knew was that it was damn near impossible to sleep when everything came flooding in all at once. Worst, by far, were the memories of being trapped inside her own skin. Like the opposite of an out-of-body experience, she was forced to watch herself move with no control, watching herself actively try to hurt those she loved most. Looking around at those before her, she wondered how on earth she had managed not to hurt any of them. At least not physically, that is.
Mouths moved, but no sound came from them as Mick looked around the living room of the Murphy residence. She was almost sure they were talking, but she couldn’t hear anything over the static-filled buzzing in her ears. Since her possession only weeks before, she had dealt with tinnitus and felt as though her head would explode if she moved too quickly. However, this was not her typical tinnitus. This sound was far from the high-pitched ringing that filled one ear and prevented her from thinking straight until its eventual dissipation. She felt like she was sitting in front of an old television set without an antenna while her ears were stuffed with cotton. While she could still register those around her talking, she couldn’t determine what was being said.
Were they discussing how to handle Serena? If they were, Mick was sure the conversation was going nowhere. She had already come to the conclusion that they had little, if anything, to work with. They had a plethora of books in the shop basement that would be of little help, crystals that only worked for a small amount of time if the shards of onyx in the Murphy’s trash bin were anything to go by, and the power of friendship which, unless they were from the same universe as My Little Pony, would do them no good. They were up against a seemingly undefeatable, ancient magic, and the only three that had magic at all were a group of teenagers who only received their abilities two weeks prior. Their chances of winning were slim to none, but she highly doubted the others had come to that conclusion yet. 
Mick watched Miles pinch the bridge of his nose as Vivien offered something, and the oldest of the Murphy brothers muttered something Mick couldn’t make out as Bentley rolled his eyes with an inaudible huff. Looking around in confusion, Mick allowed her eyes to slide shut before slowly taking a breath and willing her hearing to return. Once she could make out the frustrated tones of their voices, Mick opened her eyes and forced herself to stand from the window seat. She listened for a while to the jumbled voices that tangled into an unintelligible mess before Vivien’s voice cut through, “Why don’t we just use the emerald candle again? It worked on Mick.”
“We can’t,” Mick spoke as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.
As though the energy in the room had died, Mick felt the eyes of the others on her as Bentley asked, “Why not?”
Taking a slow breath, Mick admitted, “The candle we used on me was the last one.”
“Maybe, if we find the book, we can make more,” Carrie suggested.
With a definite shake of her head, Mick said, “It’s pointless. I looked for the recipe after everything went down, but the page is ripped. There’s no way to make a new candle. We’ll have to find a different way to drain the magic from Serena.”
“Is there even another way to do it?” Vivien wondered.
While the others murmured their agreement, Royce’s eyes began to gleam as a fresh idea blossomed in his mind. “There might be.”
Noting the look in his brother’s eyes, Miles asked, “What do you have, RJ?”
Taking a few steps back toward the stairs, Royce smiled and said, “Just hang on a sec.”
As Royce bounded up the staircase, Bentley turned to the other living room occupants and asked, “Is anybody else confused or is it just me?”
“It’s definitely not just you,” Carrie sighed, glancing at the top of the staircase with a raised brow before smiling back at Bentley.
“It’s probably something in one of those books he’s gotten recently,” Miles mused with a shrug.
“Books?” Mick asked.
Miles nodded, “He’s been using some of the money he’s saved to buy books on magic and supernatural abilities. When he’s not getting caught reading at two in the morning by Mom, he’s spouting off things he’s discovered.”
“So that’s why he’s been looking so tired lately,” Vivien breathed thoughtfully. It made sense why he was suddenly on the verge of collapsing in class or falling asleep despite the noise of the cafeteria. Despite his insistence that all was well, she felt as though it was very unlike him - normal for Bentley or Miles, sure, but never for Royce. It made sense that the reasoning behind his uncharacteristic fatigue was his late-night reading sessions. 
Miles nodded in confirmation, but before he could say anything, Royce’s hurried footsteps could be heard, and everyone turned their attention to the stairs as Royce descended them two at a time, a thick book grasped tightly in one hand while the other held the railing. Jumping the last few steps, Royce quickly flipped open the book and made his way to his friends, flicking a few pages until he found what he was looking for. Beaming proudly, Royce’s gaze flickered between those present as he explained, “I borrowed this from the library last week for a bit of light reading.”
“Light?” Bentley scoffed. “That thing could have been used as a cannonball.”
Rolling his eyes, Royce brushed off Bentley’s claim and turned the book toward them as he continued, “It’s all about how people believe covens worked throughout history. While it talks about the hivemind kind of communication stuff like what Carrie found earlier, it also talks about coven draining. It says that coven members could drain a witch of their powers if they tried to learn dark magic or got possessed by it.”
“Do you really think something like that could work if Serena isn’t a part of our coven?” Vivien asked. 
“There’s no telling,” Royce said as he shifted the book back toward himself. “It only says that covens could do it, but it’s worth a shot, right?”
Cutting in, Miles shook his head, “And if it doesn’t work, that would put all three of you in danger. We’re not risking your lives for a theory.”
“But if it works, then we could save Serena and go back to normal,” Vivien argued.
“And if it doesn’t, you could die,” Mick interrupted.
Despite Vivien’s evident eye roll, Carrie was the one to speak next, “We can find another way.”
Before things could escalate, Bentley stepped up and asked, “Why don’t we just ask Mom if she knows anything about it?” With everyone’s attention on him, he said, “Think about it; she’s a witch and has been since before any of us were even born. If anyone knows anything about coven stuff, wouldn’t it be her?”
Silence permeated for a moment until Miles spoke, “He’s not wrong.”
“I’m smart when I want to be,” Bentley claimed before turning on his heel and heading for the kitchen. 
Not wanting to be left behind while Bentley discussed matters with Dorothea, the others quickly trailed behind, Royce holding the book’s pages in place to ensure he had the right information for the woman. Looking up from her embroidery hoop with a smile as the children entered the kitchen, Dorothea paused the music playing from her cell phone and asked, “How did things go with your friend?”
“That’s actually what we were hoping to talk with you about,” Mick stated.
Leaning against the wall, Vivien stated, “She’s possessed by dark magic and we need advice on how to fix things.”
Folding her hands together on the table, Dorothea said, “Well, the easiest way to stop a possession would be with an exorcism, but where this has magical ties and we don’t have any legitimate shamans in the area, I would say your best bet would be to try an emerald flame candle, if you can find one.”
“You don’t have the recipe?” Miles asked.
With a heavy sigh, Dorothea shook her head, “No, that was one thing I never learned.”
Stepping up to the table with his borrowed book, Royce set the hardcover down on the table and pointed to the pages as he asked, “What about coven draining? Would that work even though Serena’s not in our coven?”
Without so much as looking at the pages before her, Dorothea answered, “There are many ways that it would work, but I have some concerns.”
“Like what?” Carrie asked.
Glancing around at the children before her, the woman replied, “You see, many years ago, I was asked by one of my old coven mates to perform the ritual and it was extremely difficult.” 
“Would salt help?” Bentley asked, digging into the pocket of his jeans for a packet he had taken home from school. 
With a chuckle and a fond smile, Dorothea shook her head, “It would dampen the powers of the one being drained, but in this case, no. My friend had sworn off magic and, despite still being one of my closest friends, the process was excruciating on everyone involved. He was in pain for months afterward and I couldn’t be near him without crying. While Serena isn’t in your coven, she is still someone you personally share a bond with in some way. In my opinion, it would be exceedingly difficult for you three to even handle being in school with her after the fact.”
Disappointment was evident on everyone’s faces as Royce gathered the book again and sighed, “I guess we’ll just have to figure out another way, then.”
While the children moved to leave the kitchen, Dorothea stood and spoke, “There are other ways to drain or exchange powers.”
Turning back toward the woman, Vivien asked, “Like what?”
Holding up a finger, Dorothea silently asked them to wait as she stepped over to the pantry. Pulling a book from inside her hidden cabinet, Dorothea made her way back to the kitchen and opened the book, finding the right page as she explained, “There is a way for witches to send their powers into empty vessels.”
“Empty vessels?” Miles repeated. “Like what; a jar?”
“Not quite,” Dorothea said with a shake of her head. “In this case, an empty vessel would be a person without magic as it will give the person performing it some powers of their own as they drain the magic from the witches. The incantation would have to be read by the person without magic and, to anyone watching who isn’t involved, it would look the same as a coven draining.”
“That could work,” Mick muttered, earning nods from Carrie and Bentley.
“We could use that,” Miles agreed. “If we transferred the magic to ourselves, we could drain Serena and then give the magic back after it’s over.”
Turning to his mother, Royce asked, “Can we write down the incantation?”
With a stiff nod, Dorothea laid the book on the table and watched as Royce pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled out the information on a napkin. As Royce wrote, Vivien’s gaze landed on Dorothea. It seemed too good to be true. If this whole idea of giving their magic to someone else to protect themselves was an option, why hadn’t it been offered to them when Mick was possessed? Though she wanted nothing more than to trust Mrs Murphy with everything she had, Vivien couldn’t help but feel skeptical. For once, she wished she had Bentley’s unyielding optimism. The smile on his face was enough to tell Vivien that he hadn’t even given his mother’s offer a second thought.
Royce finished writing far quicker than Vivien would have liked, but as she held an arm out to stop him from going any further, she crossed her arms and met Mrs Murphy’s eyes as she asked, “What’s the catch?” 
“Catch?” the woman wondered.
Despite Mick’s hand on her shoulder silently asking her to stop before she could begin running her mouth, Vivien spoke, “There has to be something you aren’t telling us about this.”
Taking a deep breath as she sat back down at the table, Dorothea explained, “There are only certain times when magical beings can give up their powers. Special moments. Tonight isn’t just any night, after all.”
A pause of silence filled the room before Royce recalled, “Tonight’s the lunar eclipse.” 
“Exactly,” Dorothea nodded. “The full moon is one thing - a sign of new beginnings - but an eclipse is something else entirely. It is something very special. During an eclipse, the transfer is most powerful.”
“Powerful how?” Carrie pressed.
Dorothea closed the book she had brought out and tucked it under her arms as she folded her hands atop its surface, “Though it would be the safest option and would allow you to go about life normally, the power of the eclipse could make the transfer permanent.”
“Permanent?” Miles breathed, shock lining his voice as his eyes widened.
Bentley’s golden hair flowed like a halo of fluffy waves as he quickly shook his head, “No way! We haven’t gone through everything we have just to throw it all away.”
Dorothea held up a hand to placate the children before her as she spoke, “I understand, but without your magic, you’re of no use to whatever is possessing Serena, are you?”
Silence hung in the air like a weighted blanket - heavy and immovable. While the woman’s words were undeniably true, none of them knew quite how to respond. Bentley’s steel-toned eyes glanced between Royce and Vivien, wondering how they were so quiet. Did they have no concerns to voice, or were they overthinking as they always did? Taking Vivien’s hand in his, Bentley watched as her emerald eyes found his, and a silent question fell between them - were they truly willing to give up their magic so easily? When Vivien’s eyebrows knitted together, and she forced herself to turn away, Bentley knew he had his answer. Vivien turned to Royce and took his hand, following the same process with him. By the time Royce had found Bentley’s gaze, he knew they had all come to the same conclusion.
In a voice too quiet to be her own, Vivien muttered, “She’s right.”
Despite her surprise at how easily the normally fiery Vivien stepped down, Carrie looked ready to fight as she asked, “What?”
Royce shrugged as he finally looked up, the golden glow in his caramel eyes now dull as he defeatedly admitted, “We don’t really have a choice.”
Before any of the older children could argue, Dorothea spoke from her seat at the table, “I wouldn’t have suggested it on any other night, and although I feel it should only be used as a last resort, it might be your only chance.”
“We’ll have to try the coven thing first,” Bentley spoke, determination fuelling his tone as he turned back toward the others. “If that doesn’t work and she gets to be too much for us, we’ll back down and give up our powers.”
Taking a sharp breath, Mick drew the attention of those present as she admitted, “After everything that’s happened, I don’t know if I could handle that.”
“You could,” Vivien spoke confidently, offering the older girl a small smile. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”
With a hum of confirmation, Royce said, “Even if it comes down to us having to give up our magic, you won’t be alone in it.”
Bentley nodded, “You’ll have all of us to support you.”
“We’re in this together,” Vivien added, patting the older girl on the arm. “Now, come on. We’ve got a demon to chase.”
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Dead leaves crunched underfoot, and Carrie’s teeth chattered as another icy November wind sent a chill down her spine. Why couldn’t they have just left her in the car? She understood that Mick wanted to check the woods on foot, but the car’s headlights were a hell of a lot brighter than the flimsy flashlights on their cell phones. She could have at least followed them along the treeline with the car, shining the lights into the woods as best as she could. It made no sense for them to wander aimlessly through the woods with what little lighting they had, but then again, she understood where they were coming from. 
Seeing as Mick had been possessed recently, she would know better than any of them where to look. Her first instinct led them straight toward the woods where the kids had always done their Halloween ritual, and although Carrie could sense the thick layer of unease in the air, she knew as well as they all did that Mick was only doing what she felt was right. Mick had told her time and time again about how often the fleeting memories of the woods would come to mind. Maybe it was something to do with the magic being nearly as old as Salem itself and not knowing how to handle the noisy city it now inhabited. Carrie couldn’t be sure, but if Mick felt relatively confident, the blonde wasn’t about to argue with her.
Glancing toward where the kids were huddled together, their flashlights forming a unified beacon as they talked quietly amongst themselves, Carrie wondered what was going on in their heads. Were they worried or upset with the idea that Serena’s possessed body could be lurking in the canopy of the woods they felt at home in? Were they worried about the idea of sacrificing their magic to save a girl they could just barely consider a friend? Had they even considered the idea of being normal humans again? Or were they more focused on getting things taken care of so they could return to their normal lives? Carrie had given it much thought, and from the look on his face, so had Miles. Though she couldn’t tell what was going through Mick’s head as she walked ahead of them in a sort of daze, Carrie had a feeling that the younger brunette was just as worried about the concept of the kids losing their magic as she and Miles were. 
It was only natural for them to worry, Carrie supposed. Mick had been the only older sister type of figure in Vivien’s life since the girl was tiny, and Miles’ younger brothers were practically attached to his hips when they weren’t busy with school. They were older siblings in their own rights, and despite Carrie only having been close to the kids since she had begun working at Coven’s Cottage, she was just as worried for them. However, it didn’t seem as though the children were nearly as worried as they were.
They were relatively quiet - and had been for quite some time - but Carrie could see the faintest hint of a smile on Royce’s face as Vivien elbowed him in the arm, and Bentley let out a snort of laughter. Carrie grinned; they were cute together, whether they knew it or not. The only thing missing was their trusty sidekick, Kona. The little Hawaiian had grown increasingly close to them since her family moved to Salem when Kona and Bentley were entering fourth grade. It was only natural, seeing as how Bentley was her tour guide at school, and they were practically inseparable during the first few months of school. Nowadays, it was unusual to see the trio without the blonde, but after all that had happened in the last two weeks, the sight was becoming more common than anyone would have cared to admit.
Carrie took in a breath and focused her attention back on the treeline, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Grateful she had invested in a pair of fuzzy earmuffs and a packet of reheating hand warmers, Carrie pried her now warmed hand from her pocket and switched her phone into it before tucking her empty hand into her pocket. Oh, how she hated the cold! Though she was grateful to have stuck around Salem after graduating high school as, otherwise, she wouldn’t have grown close to Miles and his close-knit group of friends and family, a part of her wished they had met somewhere a bit warmer. Though she highly doubted she would be able to convince him to move somewhere warmer as he was a family man through and through, she hoped at least a few of their future winter vacations could be spent in one of the warmer states. Somewhere far from the snow and ice and whipping winds - Florida or California, perhaps? She’d heard stories of the luxurious beaches and seemingly endless summers, and, boy, did that sound good right about now!
As another wind stirred leaves into the air and blew a chill throughout the group, Carrie shivered and turned to Miles as she asked, “Do you see anything?”
With a sigh and a shake of his head, Miles asked, “No, do you?”
“I wish,” Carrie huffed. “Do you think Serena’s even here?”
“I don’t know,” Miles muttered, “but Mick seems pretty sure this is where it brought her, and if she’s right, Serena could be where the kids do their ritual.”
Carrie slowly nodded to herself before asking, “Do you know how to get there?”
Again, Miles shook his head, “I haven’t had to walk them out there in years. I think it’s marked off by fallen tree limbs, but I could be wrong.”
Carrie hummed thoughtfully, glancing back toward the trees they had already bypassed before shrugging. The important thing was that the kids knew how to get there. So long as they were reliable tour guides, she had nothing to worry about. Not much further down the edge of the woods, the kids stopped, turning back toward their older companions with matching expressions. However, of the three, it was Bentley who chose to speak first, “The path starts just up here and it doesn’t take long to get to the spot.”
“You guys should probably stay a good distance behind us just to be safe,” Royce recommended. 
Before anyone could argue, Vivien dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of assorted crystals as she spoke, “I took these from the store earlier and I think we should probably divide them up now in case she’s in there.”
“What did you bring?” Mick questioned, tucking her hands into her coat pockets as Vivien stepped forward. 
“For you guys, I brought malachite to repel toxic energy,” the young brunette explained as she began handing out portions of the swirled green crystal. “For all of us, I have small pieces of smithsonite that will help to ground us all and will hopefully make it easier for us to make tough decisions. Then, for just the three of us, I have some shards of white moonstone to help us harness the power of the moon and stars.”
“Do you think they’ll help?” Carrie asked as she examined the two stones in her palm.
“You never know,” Royce said with a small shrug.
“It’s better to have it and not end up needing it than to need it and not have it,” Vivien explained simply. 
“You’re nothing if not over-prepared,” Bentley teased, grinning cheekily at Vivien, who merely rolled her eyes in return.
“Call me paranoid all you want,” she resigned, “but if we’re going up against a demon without the help of some ancient witches, I want to make sure I’ve covered every possible base.”
“It’s smart,” Mick mused, gaining a grateful smile from the young brunette.
“Thanks,” Vivien said. 
With a fond smile, Royce tore his gaze away from Vivien and cleared his throat before saying, “We know the pathway like the back of our hands, so all you guys will have to do is follow us.”
“If she’s there, there’s a fallen tree you guys can hide behind,” Bentley stated. 
“Are you three sure this is what you want to do?” Miles pressed. 
“What other choice do we have?” Vivien replied rhetorically. “The sooner we find her and end this, the better off we’ll all be.”
With a hum of agreement from Royce and a quick nod from Bentley, the trio allowed the children to lead the way, their flashlights turning off as the moon guided them along the path. Despite the darkness of the forest, they maneuvered through the leaf-covered ground with practiced ease. Royce led the way over a fallen tree, waiting for Vivien and Bentley to join him on the other side before continuing onward. Turning toward his friends, Royce lowered his voice before asking, “Do you think we have a chance of ending this?”
“One way or another,” Bentley sighed softly.
“If it comes down to it, are you ready to give up our powers?” Royce asked.
“What other choice do we have?” Vivien asked in reply. “Without a candle and the help of other witches, we’re sorta out of options.”
Royce sucked in a breath and sighed, “Just as I was getting used to it.”
“Try to stay positive,” Bentley offered as he stepped over a small log. “We might not need to give them up.”
“And if we do?” Vivien wondered aloud.
Stepping between his brother and their longtime best friend, Bentley slid his hands into theirs and smiled, saying, “Then we’ll do it together like we always do.”
Vivien took in Bentley’s smile and offered a strained one in return while Royce peered over Bentley’s head at her, sending her a worried look that she dismissed with an encouraging smile. How she could be so calm about the matter, he would never know, but once Bentley’s glimmering, hope-filled eyes fell on him, Royce couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips, determined to make sure Bentley couldn’t see just how much the thought of losing their magic was affecting him. For the most part, the rest of their trip into the woods was silent, but Bentley’s soft humming made the mood feel at least minutely calmer.
All thought of conversation left them as they approached their ritual spot, tucking themselves behind the thick trunk of a fallen tree. In the clearing where their black flame candle had once burned, bringing them magic on Vivien’s sixteenth birthday, was Serena. Despite there being a few feet of space between the redhead and the mossy ground, she was sitting cross-legged, her hair floating in midair as her mouth moved wordlessly. Was she talking to herself? As the others silently joined them, Vivien took Bentley and Royce’s hands and muttered a quick silencing charm that the boys soon repeated. 
Once the charm had fallen around them, effectively preventing Serena from hearing them, Vivien said, “We should be fine now.”
Peering over the top of the fallen tree, Mick mused, “This feels familiar.”
“How so?” Carrie asked.
“I wandered in the woods a lot when I was possessed,” Mick explained as she moved to sit on the leaf-covered grass. “I don’t remember levitating at all, but there’s a lot from that night that I don’t remember, so…”
“How are you holding up?” Miles asked. “I know it can’t be easy.”
The older brunette shrugged with a heavy sigh, “It feels as though my head’s about to explode, but I’m managing.”
“Will you be okay?” Bentley asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Mick brushed off with a small smile. “Now, what’s the plan?”
Vivien and Bentley turned their attention to Royce, the only one in their group who actually liked to devise plans without blindly running into things. Swallowing thickly, Royce spared a glance over the tree before speaking, “I think, if we attack from different angles, we’ll have the element of surprise.”
Nodding in understanding, Vivien said, “You and I could go on either side of her while Bentley stays close to the tree. That way, these guys can keep him safe if anything happens and we can distract her if we have to.”
“That would probably be the best,” Royce agreed.
Despite wanting to prove that he could handle himself in any given scenario, Bentley resigned with a nod, understanding that neither Royce and Vivien nor the group of young adults that had joined them would be willing to let him put himself in harm’s way. He couldn’t blame them. If the roles had been reversed and he was the older sibling of the group, he’d want them safe as well. “Do you have the spell?” he asked instead.
Royce dug into his pocket briefly and pulled out the piece of paper he had written everything down on. Folding the paper in half, he held it out for the others to read before saying, “It’s relatively short, so it should be pretty easy, but it said to keep reciting it until the magic is gone.”
Nodding, Vivien looked up and met Royce’s gaze with a grin, “If you lead, we’ll follow.”
“Alright,” Royce breathed. “Now, divide and conquer.”
Stepping out of the bubble created by the silencing charm, Bentley watched as Royce and Vivien split off, quietly moving through the darkness of the forest as he rounded the edge of the fallen tree. Remaining as hidden as possible, Bentley only stepped into the light of the clearing once he was sure Royce and Vivien were ready to begin the chant. Quietly, Vivien moved her hands in a figure eight and softly muttered, “Post tergum ligabis.”
In an instant, Serena’s eyes, which had previously been closed, snapped open, revealing nothing but black, soulless voids where her usual hazel irises would be as her arms jerked behind her back, and she dropped to her knees on the ground. Looking around wildly, she whipped her head from one side to the other, hissing something incoherently as she glared inky daggers at the trio surrounding her. “So clever,” she hissed as her gaze flitted between Royce and Bentley, “yet so, so stupid!” With a cackling laugh, she found Vivien and taunted, “Do you truly think me so pathetic as to not be able to break free from my bonds?”
“You have no protective runes in place or we wouldn’t be able to perform any kind of magic,” Vivien explained calmly. “If you wanted to break free, you would.”
Serena’s silent glare told them all they needed to know. As much as they wanted to believe that Serena was fighting the possession, the dark, murderous gleam in her eyes told them otherwise. Maybe the part of herself that was tucked away, locked deep inside the possessed form before them, was keeping the demonic spirit at bay just enough to keep them from harm. “Perhaps I am merely curious as to what powers you believe to have over me.”
As Serena let out another dark chuckle, Bentley nodded to his brother and friend, signaling that he was ready if they were. Taking a moment to recall the words he had read from their mother’s book, Royce spoke, “Serena Sullivan, you have betrayed your coven.”
“Serena is no longer with us, I’m afraid,” the redhead hissed.
“Maybe not,” Bentley began, “but you’re still in her body, and she was a part of our coven for years before you came around.”
Continuing his speech, Royce stated, “You have stolen knowledge above your age and station, and have practiced the darkest of magic.”
“Therefore,” Vivien started with a smile, “it is only fair that, as your coven, we punish you as we see fit.”
Stunned into silence, Serena’s eyes flickered between the trio, watching as Bentley joined them in raising his arm, his palm aimed directly toward Serena as Vivien’s and Royce’s were. 
Royce waited until Bentley and Vivien were focused on him before he took in a deep breath, settling his glare on Serena as he slowly began the chant that Bentley and Vivien quickly joined, “Darkness now be gone from thee, banished and bound, we set you free, under the light of this pure moon, hearken to our witches rune, magicae nostrae tenebras purgat.”
“Wait,” Serena breathed, glancing around with widened eyes. As they began reciting the chant a second time, Serena’s eyes began to shift to a shade of dark crimson as she gasped, “No! No, I cannot control it!”
With the second chant coming to a close, the young trio watched as their hands began to glow. Over the violet light emitting from her palms, Vivien could see traces of gold to her right and orange across from her. However, as they began a third chant, she spotted a glimmer of pale pink to her left, dragging her attention from the task at hand as the glow of the moon from above illuminated a head of blonde hair that appeared at the edge of the tree line. Despite her shock at Kona’s sudden appearance, Vivien forced herself to focus as she took note of the blonde reciting the chant along with them. Turning her gaze back on Serena, Vivien watched as a series of glowing, iridescent shapes began to appear above Serena’s body. The first took on the form of a tilted X, followed by a backward and elongated Z, and finally, a capital Y with the center line dragged upwards through the meeting point.
Though she had no understanding of what the shapes meant or why they had appeared, Vivien allowed herself to continue the chant as she watched Serena’s form writhe in some sort of invisible pain. She forced herself to watch as silent tears began to roll down the redhead’s cheeks, and the dark hues in her eyes dissolved to reveal the natural hazel underneath it all. None of them were entirely sure whether or not it was a true representation of the girl’s clarity, but as a gasp left her, they were fairly sure it was.
Allowing the chant to begin again, the now quartet watched in surprise as colorful beams of light shot out from their hands, attaching them to Serena like an invisible cord. As though she had been shot, Serena let out an ear-piercing scream, a pained cry leaving her as she caught her breath before releasing another scream. This time, as Serena screeched, a dark, reddened glow began to burn under her skin, flooding upwards from her chest to her throat. Then, as the ominous glow reached her temples, her eyes began to void themselves of any color, and a dark, crimson glow began to spread outward from her through the magical tethers connecting her to the four mages.
With wide eyes and panic thick in his voice, Royce yelled, “Let go!”
However, he wasn’t quick enough, and just as the words left Royce’s mouth, a pulse of dark magic slammed through the connection, flinging them away from her and leaving them minutely grateful they hadn’t hit any trees. At once, the magical ties connecting them to the redhead dissolved, and the runes preventing Serena’s magic from spreading flickered away into the night sky as she broke free of her magical bonds. Without so much as a noise, Serena rose shakily from her spot on the ground and, with a flourish of the cape wrapped tightly around her shoulders, she disappeared, leaving nothing more than a faintly charred circle of dead leaves and four magic-wielding teenagers struggling to push themselves from the forest floor.
With the only imminent threat now gone, Miles pushed himself to climb out from his hiding place, finding Bentley first as he loudly asked, “Are you all alright?”
As Vivien pushed herself to sit on her knees, she pushed her hair from her face and snarkily asked, “Does it look like we’re alright?”
Making her way to Vivien as Miles left Bentley in Carrie’s care to check on Royce, Mick asked, “Are you hurt?”
“I’m not dead,” Vivien claimed. “I think I’ll count that as a victory.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Mick said as she helped Vivien to stand. Following the girl to where Kona had appeared from between a set of birch trees, she gestured to the girl and added, “And when did you get here?”
Brushing traces of dead leaves and dirt from her clothes, Kona grinned as she admitted, “I was here before you guys were.”
Allowing the blonde to lead the way to where the others had gathered in the clearing, Vivien asked, “When did you find out you had magic?”
“When I was talking to Ben and Royce’s mom,” Kona explained. “She sort of helped me understand that Bentley was telling me the truth about you guys having magic, but when I started getting frustrated, the table shook and she told me I probably had it too.”
“How did you know to find us here?” Bentley asked as Miles and Royce pulled him to his feet.
“I didn’t,” Kona said. “I had just left your house to go home and contemplate my existence when I saw Serena acting weird at the end of the driveway.”
Raising a curious brow, Royce questioned, “How did you follow her on foot?”
“Technically, I was on wheels at first,” Kona chuckled. “I had my skates, so I followed her as best as I could. She left her car by the commons and walked here, so I followed her.”
“And you managed to go undetected by a demon?” Mick asked.
Kona hummed, “It wasn’t as hard as you think.” Holding up a hand, Kona took in a deep breath and concentrated for a moment, leaving the others watching in stunned silence as her fingers began disappearing from sight. Thoroughly proud of herself, Kona beamed, “When you’re a ghost, nobody pays any attention to you.”
Taking what remained of Kona’s hand in hers, Carrie laughed as she felt the girl’s invisible fingers wiggling in her grasp, “I didn’t know you guys could do that.”
“I don’t think any of us did,” Royce muttered, glancing pointedly toward Vivien and Bentley who quickly shook their heads.
“I discovered it on accident, but hey, the more you know,” Kona smiled, taking her hand back and willing her fingers to appear again. After a moment, her expression turned serious as she claimed, “I heard Serena talking to herself about you guys having, like, cosmic powers or something. She wants the magic for herself.”
Bentley glanced around at the others as he asked, “That’s what it wanted last time, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Mick answered with a nod.
“Last time?” Kona wondered as she glanced from Mick to Bentley. “She really was possessed?” 
“I wasn’t lying to you,” Bentley stated with a hint of a grin.
Finding Kona’s gaze again, Mick asked, “Did you hear anything else?”
“Just her talking about wanting to take over,” Kona shrugged. “For the most part, she was talking to herself. It was like she was arguing with someone who wasn’t there.”
“Makes sense,” Miles mused. Taking a slow breath, he glanced around at the children before him and asked, “So, what’s the plan?”
Royce sighed, “We need to lure her to us and try to take her down again.”
“Are you insane?” Kona questioned. “She could have killed us!”
With a nod, Bentley agreed, “Yeah, I don’t think we’re strong enough to handle her on our own.”
“Maybe not,” Vivien began, “but she might be a bit weaker now that we’ve tried draining her once.”
“Exactly,” Royce said. “If we can get her to come to us with the idea of getting our magic, we can try it again.”
“Well,” Carrie began thoughtfully, “I highly doubt we’ll be able to convince her to come back here.”
Vivien sighed, “I think that’ll be the hardest part - finding a place.”
Taking in a deep breath as the others began offering suggestions, Mick cleared her throat and looked around as she spoke, “How about the commons?”
“You hate going to the commons nowadays,” Miles said.
“I don’t hate it,” Mick insisted with a sigh, “but regardless of my feelings toward the commons, it’s a nice, open space where they could work together to take Serena down. Besides, it’s a lot easier to donate funds to the town in order to replace torched bushes than it would be to pay off a handful of charred, antique church pews.”
Miles took a good look at the rest of the group, taking in their varied expressions as he sucked in a slow breath. Then, with a decisive sigh, he nodded, “Alright, I guess we’ll head to the commons then. But,” he began, looking pointedly at the group of four before him, “you four need to stay with us. No wandering off - we need you alive.”
After giving their forms of agreement, the teenagers turned on their flashlights and began the walk back to the edge of the woods. Once they were back on the path and sure the others were following them, Royce lowered his voice and asked, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Vivien swallowed thickly and asked in response, “What; that we might have to give up our powers?”
Sparing a glance over his shoulder as Miles accused Mick of intentionally smacking him in the face with a twig, Bentley sighed, “As much as I don’t want to give the magic up, I think it might be our only option.”
“What do you mean?” Kona pressed. “I just got mine, I don’t want to give them up.”
“And, thankfully, Serena doesn’t know that,” Royce claimed. “Besides, we only have three vessels.”
“Vessels?”
“People without magic that can take ours,” Vivien explained. “Mick, Miles, and Carrie can take ours, but we don’t have anyone to take yours.”
As Kona made a noise of agreement, Bentley spoke up, “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”
“How so?” Royce asked as he pushed a stray branch out of his path.
Slowly piecing together his plan, Bentley spoke, “Kona can turn invisible. If she attacks Serena to keep her busy while we transfer our magic, she’ll be even weaker than she is and will be easier for them to take down.”
“Okay, that sounds great and all, but you guys aren’t seriously giving up your magic, are you?” Kona asked. “Like, this is just a temporary thing, right?”
“Our mom said that the power of the eclipse could make it permanent,” Royce admitted.
“Could,” Vivien emphasized. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to get them back.”
Hesitantly glancing between the three as they neared the edge of the woods, Kona asked in a hushed voice, “What if you can’t get them back? What happens then?”
Royce heaved a sigh as he admitted, “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”
Stepping past the treeline, Vivien said, “I think we’ll just have to sit back and help everyone else strengthen their magic.”
“It’s only fair,” Bentley acknowledged. “They’ve helped us a lot in the last two weeks and I think helping them figure things out is the least we can do to repay them.”
“How do they feel about you guys giving them your magic?” Kona asked as she followed them toward where Miles and Mick had left their vehicles.
Silence filled the crisp autumn air as the magically-bound trio slowed their steps, their thoughts now riddled with scenarios and potential outcomes of the conversation to come. The idea of having to tell the people they loved most that they were giving up the magic - the magic that they had all worked so hard to improve and strengthen together - was terrifying. Especially when they realized that would entail telling the already mentally drained Mick that she would have to push aside her reservations to help them. Turning back toward the now-stopped group, Kona set them a worried look before pointedly glancing past them to where Miles and Mick had roped Carrie into singing an old TV show theme song with them as they walked.
Quickly righting themselves, the trio headed for the cars, Vivien tugging Kona along with her to Mick’s bus as she explained under her breath, “What they don’t know, they’ll help us figure out.”
As Kona climbed over the bench seat into the back of the beat-up hippie bus, she asked, “What happens when they find out?”
Heaving a sigh, Vivien slid into the passenger’s seat and watched Mick as she parted ways with her fellow oblivious friends. Vivien forced a smile onto her face as Mick made her way toward them, but as she glanced in the rear-view mirror at Kona, she admitted, “I have no idea.”
The door yanked open, and Mick laughed as she climbed into her seat. She slammed the door behind herself and tugged her keys from her coat pocket. “Are you guys ready?” she asked as she shoved her car key into the ignition.
“We are,” Vivien said before Kona could claim otherwise. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Not much,” Mick shrugged, putting the vehicle in gear before following closely behind Miles’ Jeep. “Miles said something about how Serena’s ponytail reminded him of the little girl on The Flintstones.”
“Pebbles?” Kona snickered curiously.
“Yeah,” Mick nodded as she met the girl’s gaze in the mirror. She slowed to a stop where the dirt roads met the gravel streets and watched as a few cars passed by. “So, we started singing the theme song and he convinced Carrie to sing with us even though we all know he would much rather just listen to her all day.”
Vivien chuckled, “Who wouldn’t? She’s a great singer.”
“Yeah, but he’s also a lovesick idiot,” Kona chimed in. With a roll of her eyes, she claimed, “I’m pretty sure she could start a wildfire or something and he would be singing her praises.”
“She could kill him and he would haunt her just to say ‘thank you,’” Vivien snickered.
Mick laughed, “You’re not wrong.”
Once they were back on the road, the rumble of the old vehicle’s engine overpowered any chance of a conversation, and Kona took the opportunity at a stop sign to stretch over the bench-style back of her seat and turn the radio volume up. While the radio flitted between static nonsense, advertisements for local businesses, and the fleeting notes of a Christmas song that had been cycling the radio waves since the day after Halloween, Vivien found herself trying to prevent her leg from bouncing anxiously as they grew closer to the commons. 
Though she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the concept of giving up her newfound abilities, that wasn’t the thing that was bothering her most. Her mind was more focused on how badly she was sure Mick would react. Whether she would admit it aloud or not, Vivien was terrified of having to deal with a hysterical Mick. Despite how far Mick had come since everything went down on Halloween, she was sure Mick would refuse to allow them to give up their powers, especially if she knew to whom Vivien intended to give her powers.
Glancing at the older girl beside her, Vivien forced herself to smile as Mick peered over with a grin and offered Vivien a hand over the cushion between them. Mouthing along to Mariah Carey’s infamous Christmas song, Vivien slipped her hand into Mick’s and sucked in a deep breath as she began praying to whatever deity would listen that things would go better than she expected them to. A part of her wished that this was all a dream and that she would wake up in bed or on the Murphy’s couch, but she knew that was practically impossible at this point. Things had gone far too off the rails for her to be dreaming.
As they drove past the hospital toward the center of town, Vivien found herself scanning the surrounding area for any sign of Serena. Although she hadn’t found anything, she couldn’t brush off the feeling that someone, somewhere, was watching them as Mick rolled to a stop behind Miles’ Jeep, their parking spots within walking distance of the street the Murphy family lived on. With no opportunity to call everything off and the looming threat of Serena’s possession still tugging at the far edges of her brain, Vivien cleared her throat and sighed as she looked around, grateful that very few people appeared to be away from home at that hour. Nobody else needed to see what was about to go down.
Taking a deep breath as she turned off the engine, Mick twisted in her seat so that she could see both Vivien and Kona as she asked, “Are you two ready?”
���Ready as I’ll ever be,” Vivien sighed.
With a resigned nod, Kona agreed as she climbed over the back of the seat to sit between the two brunettes, “I’m just ready to use my new magic.”
“You’ll do great, Kona,” Mick reassured, brushing a stray hair from the girl’s face with a smile. “If you’re anything like Vivien and the boys, you’ll pick up on things in no time at all.”
Kona smiled and nodded before turning to Vivien with a wary look as Mick shoved open her door. Swallowing thickly, Vivien pushed her door open and allowed Kona to climb out behind her, letting the blonde tug her aside after the door was closed once more. In a hushed voice, Kona asked, “Are you sure about this? Ben and I were talking on Discord and he says he’s worried. I tried to reassure him, but I’m nervous too and I’m not the one giving up my magic.”
Vivien placed a hand on Kona’s shoulder and started walking around the car with her as she replied, “As I said, it might not be permanent.”
Digging her heels into the edge of the sidewalk, Kona urged Vivien to stop as she pressed, “What if it is?”
“So be it,” Vivien shrugged in response. “If we can get our powers back - great! If not, life can go back to normal, and we can help the others learn how to use them.”
“Are Royce and Bentley okay with that?” Kona asked.
“Why else would they go through with it?” Vivien asked in return.
“Because you’re okay with it,” Kona stated. When the brunette before her sent her a confused look, Kona huffed, “Royce will do anything you want him to - sort of like Miles and Carrie. You say jump, he asks how high.”
“I don’t think-”
“It doesn’t matter what you think, Viv. It’s the truth,” Kona interrupted. “As for Bentley, the only reason I’m sure he’s going through with it - apart from the fact that Royce is, and he’s always up his brothers’ asses - is because you are the closest thing to a sister that he’s ever had and he feels the need to impress you.”
“He doesn’t need to do that,” Vivien claimed. “He knows I adore him.”
“I’m sure he does,” Kona agreed as she began walking again. “But that changes nothing. What I’m trying to say is that they’re doing this for you. Did you even bother asking if they wanted to give up their powers?”
“I know they don’t,” Vivien sighed. “None of us do. It’s just the only thing left that could keep us safe from Serena.”
“And you’re sure about this?”
“Does it look like we have a choice?”
Kona glanced at her tall friend and sighed, “I guess not, no.” Taking hold of Vivien’s hand as they entered the commons, Kona muttered, “At least promise me that you guys will stay safe while I confuse the shit out of Serena.”
“I promise we’ll try,” Vivien offered with a hesitant smile.
“Good enough,” Kona shrugged as they made up the distance between themselves and where the others had gathered. Vivien sucked in a deep breath as she looked around at the group. Miles and Carrie were talking with Mick about something the boys had talked about in the car while they set out some of the crystals they had brought. While Royce worked on laying out a blanket for them to kneel on during the transfer, Bentley had chosen to lay on a nearby bench, staring blankly at the sky overhead. Though nobody else seemed to think this was anything odd for the young blond, Vivien felt a pang in her chest at the idea that he was observing what would remain of the magic they now possessed.
Giving Kona’s hand a small squeeze, Vivien suggested, “Why don’t you help Bentley with his existential crisis?”
“Is that what he’s doing?” Kona wondered with a raised brow.
“That would be my guess,” Vivien sighed. “I can’t say I blame him.”
“Me neither,” Kona agreed. As she headed toward the bench, she turned back to Vivien and said, “Good luck.”
With a grateful nod, Vivien made her way to where Royce had begun brushing dirt and grass from the blanket he’d laid out. Kneeling on the old, flannel picnic blanket, she softly asked, “How are you holding up?”
Barely glancing in Vivien’s direction, Royce replied, “Better than Bentley.”
Nodding more to herself than anyone else, Vivien sighed, “Yeah.”
Shifting to sit cross-legged, Royce met Vivien’s gaze and asked, “What about you? How are you doing with all of this?”
“Not great, but not horrible,” Vivien resigned. “I’m not thrilled with the idea that this could be permanent, but at the same time, I’m trying to remain positive.”
Royce hummed, picking at the blades of grass that just barely clung to life on the border of the blanket as he spoke “Ultimately, what choice do we have?”
“It’s not the end of the world if we give them our magic,” Vivien stated, tugging her jacket close as the wind picked up. “We’ve lived without it before.”
“Yeah,” Royce sighed, “I just wish we had more time with it.”
“So that’s it?” a voice hissed, the person’s wounded tone jolting Royce and Vivien from their conversation. As they turned to find Mick’s pained, chestnut eyes looking between them, hoping to see something else in their eyes, Vivien pushed herself to her feet. However, before she could explain the conversation, Mick asked, “You guys are seriously giving up? Just like that?”
“Mick,” Miles began as he neared them, “what are you talking about?”
Tilting her head but not tearing her gaze from the children before her, Mick claimed, “They’re giving up their magic.”
“What?” Miles breathed.
Stepping up to the group, Carrie asked, “Are you sure you didn’t just hear wrong, Mickie?”
Before Mick could clarify what she had heard, Bentley spoke as he stood from the bench he had perched himself on, “She didn’t hear wrong; it’s the truth.”
“You’re really thinking about going through with it?” Carrie pressed, her gaze flicking worriedly between Bentley, Royce, and Vivien.
“We’re not thinking about it,” Royce claimed as he stood. “We’re doing it.”
“Why are you guys so ready to give that up?” Miles asked. “You love your magic.”
Vivien sighed, “We do, but if her goal is to take our magic, we need to get rid of it before she can grow stronger.”
“And we don’t get any say in the matter,” Mick said with a shake of her head as her eyes drifted toward the ground. With a huff, she fixed her gaze on Vivien and breathed, “You can’t do this to us, to me.”
“We don’t have a choice, Mickie,” Bentley said as he and Kona joined the group. 
Taking in a shuddering breath, Mick muttered, “There’s always a choice.”
“Normally, yeah,” Vivien nodded, “but this time, there really isn’t another option.”
“If we don’t give up our magic, Serena will take it from us,” Royce stated. “Like Mom said earlier, this is our last resort.”
“What happened to trying the coven drain again?” Miles offered as Mick took a few steps away from them. “I thought that was the plan.”
Royce took in a slow breath and shook his head, “It would have been if we thought we could handle it. After what she did to us last time, we don’t think it would be smart for us to try fighting her off again, regardless of her being weaker too.”
Nodding understandingly, Carrie asked, “Was she trying to take your magic in the woods?”
“Whether or not she realized it, I think she was.” Glancing around at her fellow mages, Vivien said, “I don’t know about you guys, but when she was trying to fight us off and her magic was colliding with ours, it felt like she was draining the life out of me.”
“Yeah,” Kona nodded. “I felt weak.”
“We all did,” Bentley claimed. 
Royce nodded, glancing between Miles and Carrie as he spoke, “That’s why I think it would be better if we gave up our powers now. Kona can use her magic to lure Serena here, and once you guys have our magic, you can help her drain Serena.”
After a silent pause fell among them, Vivien added, “And, after it’s done, we can try to reverse it, if you really want that.”
Miles turned to Carrie, his worried steel-colored eyes finding hers as a silent question passed between them. Were they ready for this? After only two weeks of helping the kids strengthen their abilities and watching them grow more sure of themselves, were they ready to trade places? If this was permanent, were they really ready for their normal lives to be a thing of the past? As Carrie nodded and Miles took in a breath, they realized that it didn’t matter so long as the kids they cared so much for were safe. 
Turning toward Mick, Miles softly asked, “What do you say, Mickie?”
Though nobody could see her face, it was obvious the brunette was crying, her shoulders shuddering as she sucked in a shaky breath, “I’m not strong enough for this.”
“Yes, you are,” Vivien argued gently.
“I’m not,” Mick said with a firm shake of her head. “I know you think I am, but I’m not. I had magic for one night and almost killed all of you; what makes you think I could handle it now?”
“That was different and you know it,” Vivien said as she approached her oldest friend.
Sounding nearly as broken as she looked, Mick swiped a hand under her eyes and turned as she scoffed out a simple question, “How?” 
“You were given dark magic before.” Gesturing behind herself, Vivien chuckled, “You’ve seen us use our magic for the dumbest shit, you know the magic we have isn’t dark.”
“And before you try to say that it could become dark because of you,” Royce began, “think again. You’re one of the nicest people I know.”
Bentley nodded, his pearlescent smile practically glowing as he spoke, “Who else - apart from Miles and our parents - would put up with our nonsense on a daily basis and still want to do it again the next day?”
Despite the choked laugh she let out, Mick shook her head, but Vivien was quick to stop her from saying anything as she took the older girl’s arms and tugged her back toward the group, “I know you don’t think you’re strong enough, but we know you are.”
“Besides, you aren’t alone this time,” Royce claimed. “You’ll have Carrie and Miles with you, and the three of us will be there to help you if you need us.”
“Four of us,” Kona chimed in with a smile.
Mick glanced her way with a hint of a smile, but Vivien’s grip on her arms pulled her attention back to the girl before her. “Look, I know this is going to be hard for you, but if she gets our powers, all of Salem - if not the whole world - will be in danger.”
With a shaky breath, Mick met Vivien’s eyes once more and asked, “What happens if I can’t do it?” 
“You can,” Vivien claimed confidently. “I know you can. You have to.” -she slowly kneels on the ground, holding Mick’s hand out above her- 
“Guys, I hate to interrupt this,” Kona said, drawing everyone’s attention to her as she stared up at the sky, “but if we’re going to do this during the eclipse, we’re running out of time.” 
Sure enough, as their gazes lifted toward the starry sky above, they realized the moon had begun to glow a dark, bloody red. With time now effectively ticking away, Vivien’s hands slid down Mick’s arms to the older girl’s as she knelt on the blanket Royce had laid out for them not long before. Tearing his gaze from the sky, Miles watched Vivien kneel on the old blanket they typically used for cold nights at the drive-in and softly asked, “What are you doing, kiddo?”
Despite everything in her body telling her not to turn her gaze from the sky, Mick’s tawny eyes fell from the glowing light above as Vivien began to speak, “I know it’s not fair, Mick, but nothing ever is.” Holding the older girl’s right hand in both of hers, Vivien moved it so that Mick’s fingers were mere inches from her forehead as she met the older girl’s eyes and said, “It shouldn’t have to be you three, but it is and I’m sorry that it has to be this way.” 
Tapping Bentley on the arm, Royce nodded toward where Vivien had knelt, a silent gesture telling his younger brother to find a place to stay as he nudged Bentley closer to Miles. Despite his curiosity, Bentley wordlessly complied, kneeling to Viven’s left as Royce took up the spot on the brunette’s right. Peering up at his oldest brother, Bentley held out a pleading hand that Miles quickly latched onto as he crouched in front of his youngest sibling. Running a hand over Bentley’s hair in what he hoped would keep both of them calm, Miles pressed a quick kiss to his brother’s forehead before asking, “Are you sure about this?”
Without a moment of hesitation, Bentley nodded, “You guys could never hurt us.”
Looking at her two coworkers and friends, Carrie found herself, for the first time in a long time, at a loss for words as her gaze fell on Royce. Meeting the boy’s eerily calm, caramel gaze with her own, apologetically burning sapphire, Carrie sniffled back the growing lump in her throat and breathed, “I’m sorry.” As Royce’s eyebrow lifted - a trait Carrie typically only associated with Miles - she felt the need to explain further, “I know you’d probably rather be with Miles or Mick, but you got saddled with me instead.”
“I would have felt more comfortable, yeah,” Royce agreed with a breathy chuckle, “but for once, I actually picked you.”
“You did?” Carrie wondered. At Royce’s nod, she asked, “Why?”
“Believe it or not,” Royce began, offering the older girl a hint of a grin, “I trust you, Carrie.”
Unable to fight the burning sting of salty tears in her eyes, Carrie let out a wet, choked laugh at the timing of the sixteen-year-old’s statement. After trying for so long to have some semblance of a connection with the middle Murphy brother, this was what brought them together? Though she certainly wasn’t going to protest the slivered hint of a relationship, she wished it had formed under better circumstances. Royce’s chilled fingers tugged Carrie’s gloves from her hand, startling the blonde from her thoughts as she allowed him to tuck the gloves into her coat pocket and lift her palm toward his forehead.
With a nod to the blonde, Royce retracted his hands and said, “You’ve got this.”
“If you say so,” Carrie muttered in a breath.
Digging into the pocket of his jeans, Royce pulled out the napkin with the incantation on it and held it out for Carrie to take with her free hand. “Read this three times, part by part, and allow them to follow your lead while Kona starts sending out burst of magic for Serena to follow. Don’t read the next part until they say what you have.”
Looking over the makeshift note in her friend’s hand, Mick asked, “Are you sure about this?”
“Positive,” Vivien quickly agreed, refusing to allow anyone the chance to back out.
As he stood to his full height and held his hand in front of Bentley’s head, Miles asked, “Any advice before we start?”
“Imagine the magic flowing through you like a river,” Bentley said. “It makes everything easier.”
“Make sure you’re standing properly so that you don’t get thrown back.” Vivien offered. “I almost slammed through my bedroom wall when I first tried a new spell.”
As the others shuffled to find proper grounding, Royce said, “My only advice is to not give up. No matter what happens and how bizarre it feels, you can’t let it get to you. You’re a coven now. Your strength is in the magic that ties you together.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Mick glanced between Miles and Carrie before nodding at the blonde to her left. “I’m ready when you are.”
Once Miles had nodded in agreement, Kona took off in a run, making her way to the pavilion and launching a burst of magic into the air as Carrie held up the paper and began slowly reading, “Come moon of cold hours, between dusk and dawn, drain a witch of all powers, to render magic gone, potentias exhauri, malefica impotens.”
As the first of three incantations came to a close, Carrie gasped as she looked at the young brunet before her. Glowing veins had appeared just underneath Royce’s skin, drawing luminous, cerulean lines closer to the surface. His eyes had scrunched shut - due to pain or fear, she wasn’t quite sure - but slowly peeled open at the silence that filled the air. Once chestnut eyes now glowed a glorious navy, almost as though the moon had nestled itself in the boy’s soul. Glancing over at Vivien and Bentley, Carrie found her friends staring at the children before them in a similar state of wonder - and with good reason. Though the violet glow under Vivien’s skin was harder to spot due to the girl’s tan skin, Bentley’s golden hue was impossible to miss.
Carrie jumped as Royce’s icy fingers wrapped around her wrist, but as she found his gaze, she realized why he had done so. “You need to keep going,” Royce’s echoing voice reminded her without the teenager so much as opening his mouth. Glancing pointedly at the paper in the hand he held captive, he spoke once more, “Serena will be here soon; you need to finish this before she gets here.”
Still mildly in shock at how Royce had managed to communicate with her without verbally saying anything, Carrie nodded and swallowed thickly, wetting her lips before looking back down at the paper and beginning the incantation again. This time, as they began reciting the spell once more and Kona sent another magical flare into the air above the commons, the three young adults had to fight the instinct to help the teenagers before them as they let out a simultaneous noise of pain. Looking down, it was clear to see that the transfer had begun. Strands of colorful magic surged out from the young trio, arching into the palms of those who stood before them.
Golden rays of light that emitted from Bentley wove around Miles’ fingers like he had stuck his hand into a ray of sunlight that peered in through a window, the golden hue dissolving into a shade of almost too-bright white before jolting up his arm in jagged arches of neon blues and purples. Beside him, Mick watched as Vivien’s violet constellations flurried like snowflakes into her palm, the faint stars disappearing on contact as the colorful swirls of magic rolled around her hand and up her arm. Violet turned to teal and white as something akin to a wave swirled up the sleeve of her jacket and disappeared into her skin, but Mick forced herself to pay it little attention as she focused on the task at hand. Meanwhile, as Carrie read off the last line on the page, she watched shades of Royce’s lunar glow beam through her fingers, the light shifting from sapphire to slate before flickering into a blazing inferno that flared up her arm in an array of reds and oranges.
Just as Miles and Mick had finished repeating the final part of the spell, the standing trio jumped as an invisible Kona yelled out, “She’s here! I’ll keep her busy!”
Opening her eyes just enough to see a streak of pink and blue launch into the sky toward a hovering Serena, Vivien let out a breath and reached out a hand to Bentley, grasping his hand wordlessly before doing the same for Royce. Despite how ready she was just minutes prior, the knowledge that the magic she adored so much would now be gone had finally sunken in. With a shaky breath, Vivien watched as Kona’s bursts of colorful magic slammed Serena toward a nearby tree. She would miss having magic; it tethered her to her best friends in a way she had never thought possible before. However, so long as she got to help the others strengthen their own abilities and still had her friends by her side, she would find a way to grow used to it.
As the third and final reciting began, Kona let out a noise of surprise and ducked under a crimson wave of magic Serena sent in the direction Kona had dashed from. Fighting the urge to cuss out the dark witch mid-fight, the young blonde spared a glance at her friends before sending out a burst of light she hoped would at least temporarily stun the redhead and sending a few beacons of light toward the corners of the commons in the hopes of forming a protective barrier around the open area. Making a break for the other side of the commons as Serena screeched in pain, Kona tried to remember all that Bentley and Royce’s mom had taught her in their brief discussion. There wasn’t much to go on as their chat had been relatively brief, but as she sent another burst of light toward the old playground on the far side of the commons, she hoped what she had been taught would stick. Forcing herself to become visible to those around her once more, Kona attempted to catch her breath as Serena rubbed furiously at her eyes.
Once the redhead’s vision cleared and she began looking around the commons for the invisible assailant, Kona shouted, “Hey, Strawberry Shortcake!” Hoping she didn’t look nearly as weirded out by Serena’s glowing, blood-red eyes as she felt once the girl whirled around toward her, Kona grinned and yelled, “Come get me!” However, much to Kona’s dismay, the hovering witch’s head tipped to the side with a smirk before her gaze snapped toward the group of six now locked in the final recitement of the incantation. “No,” Kona breathed, using her magic to propel her faster as she rushed to catch up with the dark witch. “No, no, no!”
Faster than Kona could recall ever moving, she reached out, a tether of light extending from her hand and wrapping around Serena’s ankle, dragging the redhead to the ground as Kona ran to catch up. Kona’s grip on the tether tightened as Serena’s darkened, nearly-black fingers wrapped around the other end, turning the once cotton-candy-colored light a dark, violent red in her grasp. Serena’s cackling laugh pierced the air as she yanked on the magic tying herself to the small blonde, “Did you really think you - of all witches - would be powerful enough to stop me?”
Digging her heels into the ground, Kona looked past the redhead before meeting her eyes with a cocky smirk, “Maybe not, but I make one hell of a distraction, don’t I?”
Confusion flooded Serena’s ruby irises for a fleeting moment before realization kicked in. Whirling around, Serena snarled at the vivid array of colors on the other side of the field. With a roll of her eyes, the redhead let out a screech of frustration and sent a surge of scarlet magic toward Kona, flinging the blonde aside as the connection tying them together snapped, disappearing into a flurry of colorful sparks. Scrambling to her feet, Serena used another burst of energy to propel her into the air, cackling furiously as she aimed for the group surrounded by colorful energy.
Tired caramel eyes peeled open as the last surge of magic left Royce’s body and, glancing into the night sky, Royce met Carrie’s unnaturally orange eyes and shouted, “Behind you!” 
As though the magic they now shared had made it possible for them to move in unison, Carrie, Mick, and Miles turned toward Serena with extended hands, their newfound powers bursting outward in a full display. Lightning jolted outward from Miles’ fist, meeting Carrie’s crackling line of fire and Mick’s rushing wave as their magic slammed into Serena, knocking her out of the sky with a shout of surprise. Glancing at each other with wide, astonished eyes, Mick and Carrie nodded to each other before rocketing into the sky, leaving Miles on the ground as he turned his attention to the children now watching the battle from the grass.
Kneeling before them, Miles wordlessly checked on his brothers and pseudo-sister before glancing back at the girls now locked in a fight with Serena. After checking to make sure they were alright physically, he turned his focus back on the teenagers before him as he spoke, “You guys should stay somewhere safe until this is over.”
The only one to pay him any attention was Vivien, whose teary emerald eyes silently found Miles’. Swallowing thickly, she asked, “Where would we go?”
Feeling his chest clench at the heartbroken tone in the girl’s voice, Miles reached out and swiped his thumbs under the rim of Vivien’s glasses, brushing away her silent tears as he said, “Go back to our house and tell Mom what’s happening. Maybe she’ll know of a spell to end this.”
Nodding more for herself than anything, Vivien allowed Miles to help her to her feet before moving so that he could help Royce while she handled Bentley. Once he was standing, Bentley asked, “What about Kona?”
Miles glanced over his shoulder to where Kona was using herself as a distraction whilst Mick and Carrie struggled through the learning curve that was their newfound abilities. With a ghost of a smile, he turned back to his brothers and Vivien and said, “We’ll keep an eye on her. For now, focus on yourselves. We’ll cover you.”
Vivien stepped back as Bentley slammed into Miles, keeping herself at a distance as Royce joined the embrace. Not wanting to interrupt their moment, she watched Mick attempt to put out an accidental fire Carrie had created in her fiery tirade against Serena. They would be able to hold things off until Mrs. Murphy found a solution; she never doubted that they could. Royce and Bentley stepped away from their brother, and Vivien sucked in a breath, attempting to appear calm and hoping her small smile would be seen as comforting as they turned toward her.
“Ready?” she asked.
Though they didn’t answer verbally, both of her friends nodded and began to walk in her direction as Vivien caught Miles’ gaze between them. The two eldest siblings shared a nod, some kind of silent solidarity passing between them as Vivien heard Miles’ voice in her head, telling her to take care of not just the boys before he turned and took off, joining the fight without another word. Taking a final look at the fight, Vivien took her former coven mates by the hands and began pulling them in the direction of their home. Though she wanted nothing more than to help in the fight against Serena - it was their battle, after all -  Vivien knew they would be of no use to their friends if they had stuck around. If anything, they would be nothing more than distractions - pawns for Serena to use against the people they loved.
Despite Royce’s inability to run long distances without needing a break, he managed to make it to the end of their driveway without falling far behind, something he took a faint pride in as Vivien tugged him closer to the front door. Bentley was pushed inside first, followed closely by Royce as Vivien tried to look down the street at the commons in the distance. Sighing at how little she could see through the thickly settled neighborhood, Vivien stepped into the house and quickly locked the door behind herself before looking around. Royce had slumped against the back of the armchair their mom preferred to crochet in, his arms wrapped around himself in a kind of hug as his shoulders shuddered with each breath he took, whereas Bentley had disappeared, most likely searching the house for their mother.
Stepping up to her friend, Vivien brought her arms around Royce, rubbing a hand up and down his back as his arms closed in around her waist, grabbing fistfuls of her jacket to keep her as close as possible. Royce’s forehead dropped onto Vivien’s shoulder, and, for a moment, she worried if he was ill. His skin burned against hers, but as he muttered a soft, “It’s too warm now,” she realized that the lunar magic he once possessed was no longer there to keep him cool.
“I know,” she breathed over his shoulder, fighting to keep herself in check as Royce’s resolve crumbled around her. Before she could utter an apology, a flash of light in the kitchen caught her attention. The once warm-toned room glowed a bright white like a camera had gone off before dissolving into the room’s natural golden hue. “What was that?” she wondered aloud.
“What?” Royce asked as he leaned back, reaching up and drying his eyes as he tried to follow Vivien’s gaze.
Without allowing Vivien to explain what she had seen, Bentley entered the room with a small smile and said, “Mom just left. She said to try to eat something and rest on the couch until they get back.”
“They?” Royce wondered.
“Is she planning on joining the fight?” Vivien asked. 
With a frustrated sigh, Royce said, “She shouldn’t go in alone like that; it’s dangerous.”
Closing the gap between them, Bentley’s grin broadened, and Royce and Vivien shared a confused look as Bentley said, “Who said she was alone?”
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A shrill squeal tore from Kona’s throat as she ducked behind a tree, narrowly escaping one of Miles’ rogue lightning bolts. For the greater part of however long they had been battling Serena, she had been forced to dodge Mick’s uncontrollable tidal waves and Carrie’s great balls of fire, and she was beginning to grow tired of being unable to so much as breathe without fearing for her life. Peering around the tree, she wondered how on earth they would begin to repair the charred remnants of the city’s commons, but as a burning branch cracked and fell in a shower of sparks at her feet, she didn’t bother to think further on just how screwed they would be come morning.
Pulling the neck of her fleece-lined hoodie over her nose, she scurried through the ashen remnants of a tree, hoping to send a burst of energy toward the soaked redhead just a few mere yards away once she was in the open. However, her plans were quickly dashed as she found herself unknowingly caught in one of Mick’s, quite literally, surfable waves. Kona sucked in a deep breath as the water dragged her under, sloshing her toward the invisible barrier she had formed earlier in the night. Waiting until the water ebbed away enough for her to breathe again,  Kona peeled herself off the muddy ground with a huff of exhaustion.
Feeling more like a drowned rat than a human, Kona groaned as her feet squelched in her shoes. With a huff, she pulled herself to her feet, the blonde firing off a lazy burst of cyan energy before slipping in her waterlogged shoes and colliding with the ground once more. Mentally pleading for some sort of reprieve from the chaos that was the battle she was suffering through, Kona heaved an exasperated breath and squished and squashed her way to the closest bench she could find, tugging off the boots she would, no doubt, be throwing in the nearest trash can once everything was over, and dumping out the absurd amount of water in them as Carrie fired off another round of blazing flames.
Hoping that the help Miles had told them would be there, would be arriving soon, Kona tugged her squelching boots back on with a grimace. Oh, how she hated the feeling of wet, squishy socks in fur-lined boots! With a sharp gasp, Kona forced herself to focus as she heard the telltale sound of a group of people laughing nearby. Hoping her protective shield around the commons still prevented regular citizens from seeing the chaos within, she looked around for any sign of where the group had gone, but her attention was quickly drawn to a radiant white light that shone over her shoulder. 
Turning back toward the fight, Kona’s eyes widened as a blindingly bright figure wrapped in pearlescent ivory sent a beacon of magic directly into the red witch Miles had just sent colliding with the ground. Serena’s limp form bounced across the soaked commons, rolling to a stop against a tree as the figure in white lowered themself to the ground. Touching the grass far more gracefully than Kona had in her few hours of possessing magic, the young blonde watched as the light surrounding the person dimmed, revealing none other than the woman who had helped her figure out she had powers in the first place - Mrs. Dorothea Witt-Murphy.
The woman’s cascading chocolate curls were the only thing about her that looked the same as how Kona remembered her appearing hours prior. The blindingly white clothing she wore was surprising as the woman was almost always covered in splotches of paint, but that was nothing compared to the opals that had formed in her once-brown irises. With wide eyes and her mouth agape, Kona stepped forward, watching the older woman’s amused smirk grow as the youngest of those in the commons neared her.
“Mrs Bentley’s Mom,” Kona breathed in astonishment, “is that you?!”
“It is,” Dorothea replied, a chuckle falling from her lips as her gaze flickered between the young blonde and her son, who steadily inched closer. Smiling knowingly at the newly magical young adults who crossed the grass between them, the woman said, “I heard you kids could use some help, but I didn’t know just how much.”
“Thanks for coming, Mama,” Miles said, the relief in his voice evident as he brought his arms around his mother’s shoulders and pulled her close.
Rubbing circles on her son’s back out of habit, Dorothea smiled into Miles’ shoulder as she said, “Of course, mon cœur. Anything for my babies.”
“Please help,” Mick begged as she and Carrie watched Miles embrace his mother. “We’re practically useless.”
“Speak for yourselves,” Kona piped up with a roll of her eyes. “I was epic, you three were useless.”
“We’re not useless,” Carrie said. Looking around at the charred, waterlogged commons, she added, “I think we’ve effectively learned how to barbecue and surf at the same time.”
Mick scoffed out a laugh, “We’re just helping the Parks Department get a head start on the winter renovations.”
“Exactly,” Carrie snickered, earning a sincere laugh from the brunette.
Smiling fondly at the girls as her son stepped back, Dorothea said, “Well, now that the remodeling is over, I think it’s time to address the task at hand.”
Turning back toward where Serena was slumped against the base of a half-charred, smoldering tree, Kona sighed, “What do we do with her?”
Checking the watch on her wrist, Dorothea answered, “Let’s bring her into the open air for now. Once the others get here, we’ll work on draining her.”
“Did you ask the kids to come back?” Miles asked. “I told them to stay home where it’s safe.”
“And they are,” Dorothea claimed. “At least, they should be.”
“Then, if it’s not them,” Mick began slowly, “who else is coming?” 
Dorothea smiled, a secretive, knowing smile that told those present she wouldn’t be sharing the information until the time was right. Before she could say a word, however, the silence of the commons was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming, followed soon after by another. Looking around the otherwise empty commons, the group of four searched for any source of the sound, but found it nearly impossible to locate as the remaining bushes lining the commons gate hid most of the parking spots bordering the area. However, as Carrie turned toward the old playground that was in desperate need of repair, she spotted some familiar faces rounding the gate.
Tapping a hand on Mick’s arm, she asked, “Aren’t those your parents?”
Quickly turning, Mick’s eyes widened as she muttered, “What are they doing here?”
With his typical, mischievous grin, Brady headed not for his daughter, but for Dorothea, bringing an arm around the woman’s shoulders as he spoke, “Thanks for getting us out of there. I don’t know how much more awkward small talk I could handle.”
“Not to mention how horribly small the meals were,” Mack agreed, filling the space her husband left as he turned toward the children before him.
Finally finding herself able to voice her question properly, Mick wondered, “What are you guys doing here?”
“Thea called me at the restaurant and said you kids needed some help,” Brady said proudly. Turning back toward Dorothea, he added, “Sorry we weren’t here sooner. Someone had a hard time getting out of Walgreens.”
Ready to defend herself, Mack crossed her arms, a couple of plastic bags with the aforementioned store’s name plastered on the front tucked tightly in her elbow as she claimed, “This is my first time doing anything magic-related; excuse me for not knowing which type of salt would be strongest.”
Dorothea chuckled, placing a hand on Mack’s folded ones as she said, “Believe me, almost anything would work.”
Returning the woman’s smile, Mack unfolded her arms and dug into the bag she held, pulling out four containers of varying salts. Holding them out for inspection, she said, “Well, I got every kind they had, apart from bath salts. I hope that’s enough.”
“More than,” Dorothea agreed as she took the salts. “Did you find a box to put the spirit in?”
Mack nodded as she held out the other bag for Dorothea to look inside, “All they had were a couple of those plastic, Caboodles cases like the girls used to use for dance class, and a few metal train cases for makeup, but I found this and figured it would be the best as it has a lock and could be burned later on.”
Peering into the bag, Dorothea nodded and smiled graciously at her friend, “Perfect.” Turning toward the children, she said, “Now, why don’t you work on bringing her over closer to the pavilion and we’ll make a ring of salt around her to keep her from using her magic.”
Miles was the first to react, nodding to his mother and turning toward the others as he said, “Come on, guys.”
Wordlessly, Kona tugged the older girls by their coats until they fell into step beside her and the oldest of the group, making sure they followed as Miles led the way to the tree. As they watched the children gather around their unconscious friend, Brady turned to Dorothea and asked, “Does this feel as bizarre to you as it does to me?” Dorothea’s head tipped to the side as her eyebrow lifted, urging Brady to continue. “Well, a while ago, that was us.”
Dorothea hummed thoughtfully, her lips tugging into a smile as she reached into the pocket of her pants. Holding a glimmering, Mexican fire opal out between herself and her longtime friend, she offered, “It could still be us, you know.”
Placing his hand over the woman’s open palm, Brady smiled as he lowered them together, “I know.”
Smiling at the pair, Mack said, “I think he would take you up on it if he wasn’t worried about hurting our baby girl.”
“There’s nothing to worry about in that department, actually,” Dorothea said, drawing Brady’s attention back to her. “Just as I thought, she takes after her mother.”
“Does that mean she’s not…” Brady cut himself off, his gaze flicking back to his daughter as she and her friends helped haul Serena across the muddy grass. “She isn’t like me?”
“She won’t be burning half the town down because she got grounded, no,” Dorothea chuckled. “If anything, the only thing we would have to worry about would be her trying to catch a wave in the river.”
Smiling victoriously, Mack teased her husband, “I told you from the beginning, she’s a water baby.”
Brady shook his head as he chuckled, “I should have known better than to argue with a mother’s intuition.”
Before the women could do more than snicker at the man, Kona’s voice cut through the interaction, “What do we do now?”
Crossing the gap between them, Dorothea handed out the salt and instructed the children to make rings around Serena with each type as she told them, “You can never be too safe with these things.”
As the salt rings began to form, Mack pulled out the wooden lock box she bought at the store, handing it to Brady, who quickly opened it and pocketed the lock and key before setting it on the grass near the salt rings. Once the containers of salt were empty and tossed back into the bag they came in, Carrie asked, “Now what?”
“Now,” Dorothea began, “You four are going to sit in the four cardinal points - north, south, east, and west. One of you will sit by her head, another by her feet, and the other two on either side of her, but all of you will be on the outside of the salt rings.”
Brady nodded as he watched the kids figure out where they wanted to sit, “This sort of seals her inside and prevents her from using magic as you form protective runes around yourselves.”
Kona’s eyes glittered with pride from her spot near Serena’s head as she exclaimed, “I made some of those earlier!”
“And you did a great job, Kona,” Dorothea said with a smile. “Yours, however, were illusionary in order to keep unwanted visitors out of the bubble you made around the commons. These runes are protective and you need to make sure your intention shows that.”
“In a given space,” Brady began, “only the witch who casts the runes, can use their magic. This means that, once you four create runes around her, you’ll completely prevent her from her own magic in case she wakes up mid-spell.”
Dorothea said, “From what I know of Mick’s previous possession, two of you have done this sort of thing before. It will be fairly similar, but the only differences will be that we plan on using a different method and, once this is over, we will lock and burn the box containing the spirit.”
Piping up with a raised hand, Mack asked, “How are you going to burn it without the spirit escaping?”
Before Brady could answer, Dorothea smiled and said, “My pottery kiln, I believe. It’s far stronger than any simple campfire or barbecue.”
“And it has a lock,” Miles mused from his seat on the ground.
“Precisely,” his mother agreed.
“Now,” Brady began with a clap of his hands, “are you ready?”
Kona and Carrie were quick to nod, but as Miles turned a wary gaze onto Mick, they awaited her response. Taking in a slow, deep breath, Mick nodded, “As I’ll ever be.”
Placing a hand on her daughter’s back, Mack smiled and offered, “You’ve got this, baby girl.”
With a grateful nod to her mother, Mick turned her gaze to her father and his friend, waiting eagerly for them to tell her what to do. Ready to move forward, Dorothea said, “First thing’s first, you need to make sure your thoughts are focused solely on the protection aspect of this. It doesn’t matter how you get there, just focus on the end result.”
Brady nodded his agreement before speaking, “If you have to, imagine the people in your life you need to protect from this evil. It could be your family, your friends, a pet - anyone. Just so long as your mind and soul are focused on protection, that’s all that matters.”
“Then, you’re going to slow your breathing and hold out a hand toward the person opposite you,” Dorothea claimed, watching with a small grin as the group collectively took in a deep breath and worked on keeping their breathing even. “This will form a border between you. After a moment, your magic will flow and create a rune of your own. It may not be visible to everyone as your magic is still new, but that’s fine.”
Hands raised over Serena’s unconscious form, the magical group watched as a vibrant, multicolored line began to form in the air between them. Sprouting from the top and bottom of the line were thin, short, parallel lines that glowed glittering shades of red and pink and stopped just inches after their starting points. Astonished by the display, they silently watched as a triangle sprouted out from the center of the line, blues and purples melting together fluidly as the rune rose higher above their spot on the ground. As it rose, a light emitted from the ground, a solid circle of glimmering sparks rising out of the salt circles until it collided with the bottom tip of the rune.
The rune stilled as the magical shield touched it, encouraging Brady to say, “Good job, guys. That’s perfect!”
“Now, recite the spell after me,” Dorothea instructed, tugging the page of a spell book out of her pocket. Unfolding it, she began to read aloud the same spell she’d had the kids read earlier in the afternoon, “Darkness now be gone from thee, banished and bound, we set you free, under the light of this pure moon, hearken to our witches rune, magicae nostrae tenebras purgat.”
As they finished the first recitement of the spell they were told, the group gathered on the grass and watched as Serena’s crimson eyes snapped open, searching the area for whoever dared to cast a spell on her. Cackling, she hissed, “We’re back here now, are we? Could you not think of anything better?”
“Try again,” Brady said, dragging the girl’s attention to him as Dorothea started the spell again.
Sitting up despite the obvious pain her body should be in after being tossed around by everyone else’s magic, Serena barked, “This will not stop anything. I cannot be killed.”
“Maybe not outright,” Mack spoke, a smirk tugging at her lips, “but you can be burned, can’t you?”
“You would not kill this child,” Serena spoke as she looked around at those sitting around her, a twinge of panic nipping at the edges of her tone as she took note of the crimson ripples of magic leaving her body. “She is your friend.”
“Debatable,” Kona shrugged as the second chant came to a close. “Out of all people to possess, you picked the asshole cheerleader.”
With a smirk, Mick began, “Guess you royally screwed yourself this time, didn’t you?”
As Dorothea started the final recitement of the spell and those on the ground echoed it a final time, Serena let out a shrill scream, piercing the air in the hopes of tuning out the spell as it echoed around her. Magic flooded out from Serena’s skin like fresh wounds, flooding outward from her skin and into the air pocket the rune had created. As the spell neared completion, her screams turned into nothing more than hushed gasps as her voice squeaked out of existence. The redhead’s hands slid into her hair as she cried, nails digging into her scalp as ruby waves of magic pulsed furiously inside the shielded bubble.
All at once, the group finished the spell, and Serena slumped forward onto the muddy ground, her strength now nothing more than a thing of the past as the last threads of possession were cut free from her skin. Watching with bated breath, the group waited for a sign that something was awry as Mack brought the wooden box close to the circle. Dorothea and Brady stepped closer, urging Carrie or Miles to take the box with their free hand and slide it into the protective bubble while they still had it.
“Alright,” Dorothea began as Carrie slid the box into the circle, “now, I want you all to focus on shrinking the rune. Make it small enough to fit into the box.”
“It’ll take some time,” Brady warned them, “but you just need to keep the box inside the bubble no matter what.”
Standing from her spot beside her daughter as they began working on the project they had been given, Mack said, “I’ll try to pull Serena out as it gets smaller. That way, there’s no chance of it possessing her again.”
“It can’t, but that’s a good idea,” Dorothea said with a nod. “The spell prevents it from entering the same person twice.”
“Good,” Mick breathed as she inched closer to the box alongside Kona.
Maneuvering onto her knees for a better angle, Kona felt the protective bubble pushing back against her hand as though the magic itself was begging for freedom. As the others neared the box, Miles held the lid of the box open, making sure there was no way for the crimson mist to go anywhere else. Once the blood-red magic had honed in on the box, it was like a drain had unclogged as the magic flowed freely into the box without hesitation. Slamming the lid shut, Miles held it down with one hand and pulled it out of the salt circle so that Brady could lock it. With the box no longer under its protection, the rune glowed brightly before disappearing into the air, the shield it created melting back into the ground at once.
As the children relaxed, their energy fields returning to them as the shield dissolved into the soggy remnants of the salt rings, Dorothea took the now-shaking wooden box from Brady. As she placed her hands on the bottom and lid, white light emitted from her hands and her mouth moved wordlessly. Whether it was a spell or not, the four on the ground couldn’t tell at first, but as Brady stepped up and placed his hands on the sides of the box, a fiery light flowing into the box from his hands as his lips started moving in tandem with Dorothea’s, they figured it had to be. The box stopped moving as the pair stopped speaking, but neither opened their eyes until their mouths stilled.
With a bewildered expression, Mick found herself being the first to speak, “I thought you said you gave up your magic, Dad?”
Turning to his daughter with a chuckle, Brady nodded, “I did, sweetheart, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use it when I need to.”
Pushing himself from the ground, Miles helped Carrie up before asking, “Does that mean the kids can have their magic back if they want it?”
Dorothea sighed, “I’m afraid it might not be that simple.”
“Why not?” Carrie pressed. “If Mr Birch can have his when he wants it, can’t they?”
Tugging a glowing opal from his pocket, Brady spoke, “When I gave up my powers, it was a new moon.”
“And, because of that, we used a different spell.” Dorothea gestured to the fire opal in Brady’s hand as she added, “I tied his magic to this opal, not to a person.”
“That meant that, once I gave them up, so long as I had the object that held my magic, I could use them freely,” Brady explained. “If I didn’t, I was just an average person.”
“But because the kids gave their powers to us instead of some inanimate object,” Mick began slowly, “they can’t get them back.”
“Technically,” Mack began, “you have different abilities than the kids. That must mean something, right?”
“It does,” Dorothea acknowledged, “but for now, I suggest we put this conversation aside for the time being.”
“Why?” Kona asked, frustration evident in her voice. “What if we want to talk about it now?”
“Kona,” Miles reprimanded gently.
“What?” she replied. “I want to know how to give them their magic back. You can’t honestly say that you don’t want the same.”
Before Miles could reply, his mother spoke, “I understand the frustration, but apart from the fact that we need to get this box to my house and burn it, I think it would be wise if we get everyone dried off so that nobody gets sick.”
Carrie spoke up, hoping to dispel Kona’s urge to rage as she gestured toward Serena, “What about Sleeping Beauty over here?”
Brady was quick to respond, “We’ll take her back to the house so we can talk it over with her when she wakes up.”
“There is a high probability that she won’t remember anything as she doesn’t have any magical ties,” Dorothea claimed, “but in the off-chance that she does, we want to be there to help.”
“We can put her in my bus,” Mick offered. “With the bench in the back, it would probably be easier.”
With a nod, Miles said, “I’ll carry her over if one of you can get the door.”
Mick nodded, digging into her coat pocket for her keys as Miles lowered himself to the ground to pick up Serena. As Mick jogged toward the exit, leaving Miles and Carrie trailing behind, Kona looked around the commons with a sigh before turning to the adults and asking, “What are we going to do about all of the damage we did?”
“Damage?” Brady repeated curiously.
“What damage?” Mack asked with a grin.
Kona turned toward the open park, gesturing with her hand to the empty grass before her head jolted back in surprise. In place of the charred trees and demolished benches she knew had been there when she last looked, Kona found herself staring at the empty commons in confusion. Everything appeared as it had before their arrival, the wet ground the only evidence of them being there in the first place. “What?” she breathed. “How?”
Mack chuckled as Brady answered, “You kids have a lot to learn about magic.”
Dorothea hummed, “And, thankfully, many years to perfect it.”
Whirling back toward the adults who had already begun heading toward the exit, Kona’s mouth opened and closed like a confused goldfish. Quickly shaking herself free of her confusion, Kona scurried after the adults, rapid-fire questions falling off her lips like water as she hurried to catch up to them. Laughing at the child’s questions, the adults urged Kona to take a ride with one of her friends before piling into the Birch’s car and leading the way to the Murphy residence. Exasperated by the lack of answers she had been given, Kona chose to ride with Miles, keeping him company by pestering him with her unanswered questions. Despite knowing Carrie had gone with Mick to keep an eye on Serena, Miles began to wish he had begged her to ride with him as the only two-minute drive to his home began to feel like it was taking an hour.
Once they pulled into the driveway and Miles parked his Jeep just outside the garage, he was glad to find that Kona’s questions had stopped in favor of her jumping out and rushing to the front door, eager to tell her friends all that had happened. He made his way to Mick’s bus and helped his girlfriend shift Serena toward the sliding door before hauling her into his arms and following Carrie toward the door. Miles assumed he would hear excited chatter as Carrie held the door open for him; however, as he stepped inside, Miles found Kona perched cautiously on the edge of the coffee table with a finger pressed to her lips, silently telling all those who entered that the trio on the couch were fast asleep.
Placing Serena on the recliner and bringing the leg rest up to bring the girl some form of comfort, Miles turned toward the couch and sighed as he took in the trio resting peacefully there. Bentley was curled up between the back of the couch and Royce’s side while Vivien was slumped in Royce’s grasp, her head perched on his shoulder while his breath shifted her hair ever so slightly. As Kona took the three empty bowls from the coffee table to the kitchen, Miles took the blanket his mother had made years prior off of the back of the couch and draped it over the slumbering trio before joining the others in the kitchen. 
At Dorothea’s insistence, Kona took a bowl of food to the living room and found a video on her phone to watch so that the others could talk in some semblance of privacy in the other room. Once she was sure Kona had made herself comfortable on the floor, wedged between the couch and coffee table with her earbuds tucked in her ears, Dorothea turned her focus onto the group surrounding her dining table. Bracing herself on the backrest of her usual chair, she began, “I’m sure you must all have questions.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Miles sighed as he leaned back in his seat.
Carrie let out a scoffed laugh, a ghost of a grin tugging at her lips as she mused, “I think this whole day has just consisted of us having a million questions and not receiving a single answer.”
Mick hummed in agreement as her eyes traced the old grooves in the wooden dinner table, “It’s been a long day.”
“It has,” Mack agreed, “and I promise you’ll get some answers tonight.”
“Not all of them,” Brady quickly added, “but at least some.”
“Something is better than nothing,” Miles shrugged.
“But first,” Dorothea began as she took a step back from the table, “you kids need to eat something. Do you girls want anything to drink?”
“I have my water bottle,” Mick said softly with a shake of her head as Carrie nodded graciously.
As his mom headed for the counter where the Crockpot’s light glowed on the highest setting, Miles spoke, “I don’t think we’re all that hungry, Mom.”
“Speak for yourself,” Mick snorted.
Turning back toward her son as she grabbed bowls from the cupboard, Dorothea said, “Now, I know this has been a long, stressful day for all of you, but I also know for a fact that none of you eat properly at work. If you aren’t hungry now, you will be once this is in front of you.”
Resigning to his fate, Miles relaxed back into his chair once more with a nod as Carrie said, “I think all I had were those Twizzlers you got me earlier. I definitely won’t argue if your mom wants to give me some of her incredible food.”
Before Miles could say a word, Dorothea smiled and placed three bowls on the end of the table, instructing him to pass them down before sitting down and saying, “Thank you, Carrie. Now, Miles, why don’t you get yourself and your girlfriend a drink and we’ll start answering any questions you may have.”
Startled by the woman’s wording, Mick coughed on her water as she turned to her two friends with wide eyes, watching as the knowledge that their “secret relationship” hadn’t been, well… much of a secret, sank in. Carrie was the first to recover, her training as an aspiring actress kicking in as she turned to Dorothea with a hesitant smile, “Girlfriend?” 
“Mhm,” Dorothea hummed. “Why? Is that not what he calls you?”
Floundering for the right words, Miles’ mouth opened and closed noiselessly before he snapped it shut, his eyes wrenching shut as he sucked in a deep breath. Slowly letting the breath back out, Miles leveled his gaze on his mother as she smirked into the cup of tea she lifted to her lips, asking her, “How long have you known we’re a couple?”
“I’m a mom and a witch,” Dorothea stated plainly, sending her son a knowing look as she set her cup back on the table. “Not only does that mean that I have eyes in the back of my head, but it means I also have magical wards surrounding the house that tell me when someone sneaks out the back door before my feet have even hit the floor.”
With a hand over her mouth, Mick struggled to keep herself from laughing as her friends struggled to find the right words to say, their faces glowing a brighter shade of red than the lights on a firetruck. Discretely, Carrie slapped Mick’s stomach with the back of her hand, furthering the brunette’s struggle to remain as collected as possible. A tap to her shin brought Mick’s attention to her mother, the woman’s expression forcing her into silence as Miles sheepishly apologized to his mother for keeping the relationship from her.
Instead of appearing upset, Dorothea brushed Miles off with a wave of her hand, “Oh, please. Though I am curious as to why you felt the need to keep this from me for so long, it’s nothing to apologize for. So long as you both are happy, that’s all I care about.”
Miles took a moment to take in his mother’s words before softly asking, “Really?”
“Of course.” Reaching out to her son, Dorothea brushed a hand over his hair, pushing a few strands away from his eyes before cupping his cheek as she said, “You’re my baby boy - all I want is your happiness.” Allowing her gaze to drift onto Carrie as her hand returned to the table, she said, “As for you, my dear, you’ve been a part of this family since long before the first time you two went on a date. Goodness, that was - what - a year-and-a-half ago now?”
“We were just friends at that point,” Carrie said with a smile and a shake of her head.
“Are you sure about that?” Dorothea questioned, a knowing glimmer shining in her caramel eyes. “I could have sworn there was something between you back then.”
Before either Miles or Carrie could respond, Brady sent his childhood friend a smirk and sighed, “Dora.”
“What?” Dorothea replied, feigning innocent curiosity. “I’m just saying.”
Mack snickered, “It’s nice to see the meddling older sister is still in business.”
“Hey,” Dorothea began, “I told everyone from the start that you two would be together and, as everyone can see, I was right.”
“You said the same thing about Tommy and Celine,” Brady said with a grin.
“That’s another story entirely,” Dorothea said with a wave of her hand. 
“Now,” Mack began, scanning the faces of the young adults surrounding the table, “how about we answer a few questions while you eat so that you can get to bed?”
As her friends nodded in agreement, Mick spoke, “I think the first question I want answered is how on earth Dad has magic when he said he didn’t?”
Clearing his throat, Brady said, “Well, after I nearly burned Salem to the ground, we performed the coven ritual. At the time, our coven was only me, Dora, and Tommy.”
“Uncle Tommy has magic too?” Miles wondered aloud as he found his mother’s eyes. “Since when?”
“Since always,” his mother replied. “The point is, when Brady felt he couldn’t handle it, we drained his magic into a crystal that was capable of holding it.”
Pulling the crystal from his pocket, Brady explained, “If I wanted to, I could absorb my magic in full, but seeing as I don’t feel confident in harnessing my full powers at all times, they stay here. When I need to use them, all I need is to keep this with me.”
“For the most part, it stays with me,” Dorothea stated, “but Brady keeps it safe in the winter to keep those around him warm.”
Thinking back to the various camping trips they had taken over the years when nobody felt the need to start a fire despite the temperature saying they should, Mick muttered, “That makes a lot of sense.”
“What is your magic called?” Carrie asked as she set her spoon down. “The kids have the sun, moon, stars, and - what is Kona? A comet?”
“I think so,” Miles nodded.
With a nod, Carrie continued, “And we have nature magic. What are you guys?”
“We represent mythical creatures,” Brady claimed.
Dorothea smiled, “Brady is a phoenix - a mythical bird born of the ashes of its predecessors, I am a pegasus - a winged horse that represents light, freedom, and imagination, and Tommy is what the Greek call a cetus - a sea dragon.”
“What about you, Mom?” Mick asked.
Mack took in a breath and , “Sadly, I was born without magic. That, combined with your father giving up his magic, made it that much harder for you to have any abilities by the time your sixteenth birthday rolled around.”
“Is that why we didn’t get magic on our sixteenth birthdays?” Miles asked. 
Once the adults nodded, Mick asked, “How come the kids got theirs, then?”
“And how can we give them some magic back?” Carrie added. “Vivi was searching for weeks to find a way to give Mick some and hadn’t found anything.”
“I’m afraid those are questions we’ll have to find out the answer for in the morning,” Dorothea claimed. “We’ll have to do research tomorrow.”
“For now,” Mack began, “you kids need to eat.”
“What about you guys?” Mick asked. “I thought you said you’d still be hungry after that dinner.”
“We ate our way through a basket of that fancy bread,” Brady chuckled. 
Mack nodded as she pushed herself from her chair, “They had the same oil dip as the Greek restaurant by Market Basket, so we filled up on that.”
With a nod, Mick returned to the bowl of pizza casserole before her as her parents and Miles’ mother stood, pushing in their chairs and grabbing the box from the counter before heading out through the garage. Closing the door to the house behind her friends, Dorothea let out a long, slow breath and made her way to the side of the garage she had cordoned off as a safe space for arts and crafts. At one point in her marriage, the area had been a gift from her now ex-husband, Allen - a way for her to express her creativity and encourage their children to do the same. Nowadays, however, the space was mostly used by Bentley for his seemingly endless art projects and Miles for the paintings he would never allow to be seen by the public despite his mother’s insistence that they were better than he thought.
Looking around at the seemingly endless supplies in the area, Mack wondered, “How on earth did you get all of this stuff?”
“Most of it was a gift from Allen,” Dorothea explained as she unlocked and opened the pottery kiln. “Once I found out he was cheating, he tried to buy my love. Of course, it didn’t work, but he let me keep everything in the divorce because the boys begged him to.”
“I thought he said he never had money,” Brady commented from his perch on a stool.
“He didn’t,” Dorothea said, setting the box inside the kiln before turning to Brady and Mack, “it was his girlfriend’s father’s money.”
With a scoff, Mack said, “I still can’t believe he was dating someone only a few years older than Miles.”
“To be completely honest, I doubt he knew how old she was at the time,” Dorothea shrugged as she closed the kiln and turned it on. “Her father was his company’s owner and the money was what he wanted more than anything. Although I wish them the best, chances are that, once he has the money he wants, he’ll weasel his way out and find a new target.”
“Ridiculous,” Brady breathed as he watched the kiln whir to life.
“It doesn’t really bother me all that much anymore,” Dorothea explained. “It hurt to know how much it affected the boys at first, but they don’t seem bothered by it, so why should I?”
“That’s true,” Mack mused.
“So,” Brady began, “how long does it take to heat up?”
Dorothea dragged a rolling stool over and sat as she sighed, “Maybe eight to ten minutes. By then, the kids should be done eating.”
“Would you like us to bring the girls home?” Mack asked.
Brady chuckled as he and Dorothea shared a look, “I doubt they’ll let us.”
With a raised brow, his wife asked, “Why not?”
“When a coven is first formed, the desire to stay close to the other members is strong,” Dorothea explained. “Normally, a coven starts within a family, so it isn’t unusual for them to be close or want to spend time together. However, when it either starts or grows to include a group of friends, it results in sleepovers or the desire to get a job at the same location.”
“Is that why they all got a job at the Cottage?” Mack questioned, realization gleaming in her dark, umber eyes. “Or why the kids spend so much time together?
“Most likely,” Brady nodded with a grin. “To them, wanting to spend time together probably feels normal by now.”
Dorothea hummed, “It won’t be easy for them to willingly pull away. At least, not for a few days.”
“So, what do we do?” Mack asked as she looked between her husband and friend.
“Knowing Miles, he’ll either offer the girls his room or bring the air mattress up from the basement,” Dorothea claimed. “He won’t let them sleep on the floor.”
“What happened to the spare room?” Brady asked.
“Well, I was going to offer it to you two,” Dorothea stated. “I figured you would want to see how things go down in the morning.”
Brady turned his gaze to Mack, a silent question in his hopeful expression. With a smile and fond roll of her eyes, Mack nodded before turning her gaze onto the curly-haired brunette across from her, “We would appreciate that, thank you.”
“Of course,” Dorothea replied.
Taking in a breath, Mack sighed, “Well, in that case, I’m going to swing by the house and pick up some essentials for the night.”
“I can go,” Brady offered, rising from his seat.
Mack smiled, lightly shaking her head as she said, “You two said that, when a coven grows, you all become clingy. Stay here and watch over the kids; I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Dorothea asked.
“Positive,” Mack replied, pulling her car keys from her pocket. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Brady and Dorothea shared a look as Mack opened the garage door and headed out onto the driveway, but shrugged as the woman climbed into the family car and took off down the road. Smiling at her longtime friend, Dorothea said, “You should probably check on the kids.”
“Probably,” Brady replied with a nod. Digging into his pocket, he produced the fire opal he had slipped from Dorothea’s hand earlier in the day. Holding it out to her, he said, “You know, as much as I love feeling like just a normal guy, I sort of missed the feeling of fire in my veins.”
“You always do,” Dorothea chuckled as she pocketed the crystal. “You know, with Carrie also having fire-based magic, I might require you to step in and teach them.”
“And, when the time comes, I’ll gladly step up to the plate,” Brady said with a smile. 
Nodding to her friend, Dorothea watched him head for the door before turning her attention back to the kiln, watching as the temperature gauge slowly rose closer to the highest setting. As opposed to the silence that normally came from the pottery kiln when she or Bentley had it in use, Dorothea fought the urge to jump as the wooden box within began crackling under the intense heat. Humming to herself as the wooden box crackled and popped in the tabletop kiln, Dorothea wheeled her stool over to the rack of paintings that had been left to dry by various members of her household. Looking through the different artworks left mostly by her sons, she chuckled as she tugged one of Miles’ many portraits of his girlfriend from the rack. 
Though he had used a smaller canvas, Miles had tucked the painting between two larger frames in the hopes of keeping it from any prying eyes. However, his efforts were in vain. Distantly, Dorothea wondered how her eldest son believed she hadn’t known about his relationship with the blonde when he left such masterpieces around the house in plain view. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he had ever given his artwork to Carrie, but then brushed off the question as she knew how secretive Miles tended to be when it came to portraits he created. Maybe, someday, he would feel confident enough to give his girlfriend one of the many gifts he had made, but for now, his artwork would remain within the confines of their home, locked away until he felt ready.
As Dorothea tucked Miles’ artwork back onto the rack where he had left it, she heard the telltale beep from the kiln, its temperature gauge letting her know that it reached its highest temperature. With a sigh, she rose from her seat and rolled it back under the counter before making her way to the kiln and setting a timer that would end early the next morning. Once the machine beeped to show the timer had been set, the woman smiled to herself and turned toward the door that led inside, pulling her hair into a half-hearted ponytail before she reached for the knob. 
Stepping into the kitchen, Dorothea looked around the nearly empty room curiously before her gaze settled on Brady as he worked on washing the dishes in the sink. Announcing her presence, Dorothea smiled, saying, “We have a dishwasher, you know.”
With a chuckle, Brady placed a bowl in the strainer to dry and replied, “I’m aware, thank you.”
Leaning against the counter, Dorothea asked, “Where are the kids?”
“The living room,” he replied. “Mack is helping them set up the air mattress.”
“I didn’t even hear the car pull up,” she mused. A thoughtful silence fell over the room after Brady hummed in understanding, but as she took in a breath, Dorothea asked, “How do you think they’re dealing with all of this?”
“Better than we did,” Brady snickered. Dorothea snorted; that wasn’t exactly hard. “Remember when you nearly blinded our history teacher the morning after we got our magic?”
“All too well,” Dorothea sighed. “I think that’s why she tried to fail me that year.”
Chuckling as he turned off the water and set the last dish into the strainer, Brady dried his hands off on the tea towel before nudging his friend, “I think it was more due to the fact that you kept telling her off for getting her facts wrong.”
Rolling her eyes as she headed toward the living room, Dorothea grinned as she said, “If she didn’t want me to correct her, she should have done her research.”
Following behind his childhood best friend, Brady let out a breath of a laugh, “She should have.”
As the pair stepped into the living room, they found Mack gesturing for them to keep their voices down as she approached them. “They just laid down,” the short woman said in a hushed tone.
Nodding, the pair silenced themselves before allowing the shorter brunette to guide them toward the stairs. Once they were upstairs and far enough from the kids that they didn’t feel the need to keep their voices hushed, they wished each other a good night and retired to their respective rooms for the night. Before retiring to her room for the night, Dorothea crept down the stairs just far enough to see the slumbering group gathered on the living room floor, making sure they were resting as peacefully as possible before returning to her bedroom with a smile.
Gradually, the night crawled closer to day, and as golden rays peered through the Venetian blinds that had been installed over the bay windows, Royce groaned at the brightness burning through his fluttering eyelashes. His arms had gone numb in his sleep, and as he looked down, he realized he didn’t quite mind it. Bentley had passed out facing the back of the couch while holding Royce’s arm captive, and his other arm was wrapped snugly around Vivien’s shoulders, locking the girl in place with her head on his shoulder.
He didn’t have the heart to move out from under her - not that he wanted to in the first place - but as he moved his hand from her back, he worried she might fall if he didn’t at least nudge her further onto the cushions. However, as he tried to figure out a way to move her without waking her, Vivien let out a noise of discontent and tucked herself impossibly closer to Royce, her face squished into his shoulder as she grabbed a fistful of the hoodie he still wore from the night before. Despite the urge to snicker at the brunette’s smushed face, Royce used his free hand to brush Vivien’s hair away from her mouth before resting it on the back of her head.
Just as Royce took in a deep breath and allowed his head to hit the pillow he had shoved against the armrest, a soft voice reached his ear, “Are you awake, Rolls?”
Lifting his head just enough to find Vivien’s hazy, sleep-riddled eyes peering up at him, Royce smiled, “Nah, I’m just a figment of your imagination.”
Shrugging as she minutely nodded to herself, Vivien’s head tucked back into place as she muttered, “I like this figment; it’s comfy.”
Royce let out a breathy chuckle as he replied, “Usually, we do this the other way around.”
“I like those,” Vivien whispered, her breath sending goosebumps fluttering across Royce’s skin, “but I just like being with you.”
Taking in a breath in the hopes of stalling the horde of insects fluttering around in his stomach, Royce admitted, “Not nearly as much as I like being with you, I’m sure.”
“Debatable,” Vivien retorted softly.
Royce tried to think of a way to respond that wouldn’t completely destroy the bond he had carefully formed with Vivien over the years, but his train of thought was sent off the rails as Bentley’s fingernails dug crescents into his forearm and his younger brother exhaustedly huffed, “Can you two go confess your love for each other somewhere else? Some of us are trying to sleep here.”
Squeezing his brother as both an apology and a way to get him to shut his mouth, Royce said, “We aren’t confessing our love, Ben.”
“Who says I wasn’t?” Vivien asked groggily as she pushed herself onto the one elbow that wouldn’t dig into Royce’s ribcage. Bewildered umber eyes searched Vivien’s face as the girl fought her way through a yawn, but as her emerald eyes found his, Royce found nothing but bleary honesty in them. When Royce still hadn’t found the words to express his rapidly changing thoughts, Vivien spoke once again, “Look, these last twenty-four hours have been nothing but chaos, but I did a lot of thinking last night when I couldn't get to sleep, and I decided that I’m not going to deny that I’ve liked you for a long time now.”
Finding the ability to string together a partially coherent sentence, Royce’s mouth fluttered for a moment before he asked, “You- I- I’m sorry, you what?”
Before Vivien could reply, Bentley rolled over with a glare, the disgruntled look plastered on his face making him look more than mildly upset despite his messy blonde locks and the marks from Royce’s hoodie on his face making him appear as nothing more than a child unwillingly roused from deep slumber. With a huff, he said, “She likes you and everyone knows you like her back. Now, either ask her on a date or shut up so I can go back to sleep.”
Royce’s gaze drifted back to Vivien, but before he could think of anything to say on the topic at hand, a voice chimed in with a chuckle, “I think it’s a little late for sleep, sunshine. If you don’t get up soon, you’ll miss school.”
Vivien was the first to move as she found Dorothea’s smirking face peering down at her from over the back of the couch, pushing herself off the couch as though she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Now wide awake and well aware of what she had said, Vivien’s face burned as she forced a grin onto her face and said, “Good morning.”
Rounding the couch as Royce sat up, leaving Bentley to flop against the cushions, Dorothea took the brunette’s face in her hands and pressed a kiss to Vivien’s forehead before speaking, “Good morning, my sweet girl. How do you feel this morning?”
“Tired,” Vivien muttered. “Yesterday was… it was a lot.”
“It was,” Dorothea agreed. With a somewhat remorseful smile, the woman squeezed Vivien’s shoulders before releasing her, “I’m going to start breakfast. If you kids don’t mind, could you help wake the others?”
“Sure, Mama,” Royce said around a yawn. 
“Thank you, baby,” Dorothea said, leaning over so that she could press a kiss on the top of her son’s head. Moving to Bentley, she brushed his hair from his face and kissed his forehead before saying, “Time to get up, sunshine.”
“Don’t wanna,” Bentley grumbled as he forced himself to sit up.
“Too bad.” Dorothea turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen as she said, “You kids have that meeting today with that club Riven helped start. If you don’t feel like missing it, you need to get up and get changed.”
“Must we?” Vivien asked as she stretched.
Leaning against the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen, Dorothea smiled as she nodded, “Unless you feel like explaining to everyone why you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes, I’m afraid you must.”
With a sigh of defeat, Vivien relented, allowing Dorothea to return to the task at hand while the kids started their morning. However, before the brunette could move to where Kona had curled up by the fireplace, a hand closed around her wrist, keeping her in place. Turning back toward the couch, Vivien traced the hand on her arm up to Royce’s face, finding his nervous, caramel gaze already on her. 
Taking a tentative breath as he released Vivien’s arm, Royce asked, “Can we talk about that?”
“About what?” Vivien offered in return as she took her glasses from the coffee table, hoping the topic could be dropped now that she had the wherewithal to recall what she had said.
Royce fought the urge to sigh at her resistance as he asked, “Were you just messing around or do you really like me?”
“Of course I like you,” Vivien replied simply, stepping aside so that Bentley could make his way past her to where Kona was sleeping.
“Like, a genuine relationship thing, not just as a friend?” Royce pressed.
Vivien sucked in a breath and sighed, dropping any pretenses she might have had as she admitted, “I already told you I did.”
“So,” Royce began slowly, “you were serious?”
“I wouldn’t lie about something like that, even when I'm half asleep,” Vivien stated. “But if you don’t feel the same, I get it. You just have to say so and I’ll-”
“No!” Royce exclaimed, shaking his head. “No, no, no!”
“Damn, man, I get it,” Vivien scoffed as she turned away from him, smirking to herself as she heard Royce let out a startled noise. As she rounded the coffee table and headed for the air mattress to wake the others, she continued, “You could’ve just left it at one, but four? Gosh, am I that undateable?”
“That’s not what I meant, Viv, I swear,” Royce tried as he followed Vivien to the other side of the room. “You’re dateable - I’d date you. I-I want to go out with you and I have for a long time, but I didn’t want to say anything ’cause, well, I didn’t think you’d see me that way.”
Vivien pivoted, a smile tugging at her lips as she found Royce’s hesitant yet hopeful eyes and asked, “How’s Saturday sound?”
“Saturday?” Royce echoed in bewilderment.
With a nod, Vivien said, “We can go to that comic book store you’ve been wanting to check out, spend some time playing with the animals at the shelter across the street, then have something to eat at IHOP, and spend our afternoon harassing Riven at work.”
“So, a typical Saturday, then?” Royce offered with a breathy chuckle.
Vivien snorted, “Well, yeah, but this time it will be just us.”
“And whatever unfortunate soul has to put up with you two the whole day,” Miles grumbled as he forced himself to sit up. 
Smirking with the knowledge that her conversation with Royce had roused those still sleeping on the floor, Vivien cooed, “Aw, thanks for volunteering, Miley!”
Miles’ exhausted, halfhearted glare at the nickname she had thrown his way only made the girl’s smile brighter as he snipped, “Are you always this obnoxious in the morning?”
Vivien snorted as she lightly kicked Miles' shin, “Says the whiny, vampire bitch boy who hisses at the sun.”
“I’m not one of those stupid, sparkly things, you little shit,” Miles said with a roll of his eyes as Mick and Carrie got up from the air mattress with matching, exasperated expressions.
Vivien began counting on her fingers as she listed, “You hiss at the sun, you hardly socialize with anyone outside of your little friend group, and you act like a ninety-year-old man sometimes. Hate to break it to you, dickhead, but I’m pretty sure that makes you a vampire.”
Before the early-morning argument could go any further, Mick spoke up from her perch on the couch, “Enough, you two. It’s too early for any of us to put up with your shit.”
“Shithead,” Miles quipped as he pushed himself off of the floor.
“Asshat,” Vivien smirked fondly.
Relenting, Miles brought an arm around Vivien’s shoulders before pulling Royce into his free side and deciding, “I wouldn’t mind driving you two around this weekend. Just tell me when.”
“Thanks, Miles,” Royce said graciously as he brought an arm behind Miles’ back.
“Yeah, yeah,” Miles replied, running a hand through his hair as he stepped away. “You kids know I’d do anything for you.”
“We do,” Vivien nodded, “and we take advantage of that often.”
“I know,” Miles said with a grin as he joined his girlfriend and best friend on the couch.
Vivien smiled at the taller man before meeting Royce’s gaze and shaking her head with a smile. Royce joined her with a chuckle before taking a step back and turning his attention to the recliner where Serena slept. Gesturing to the slumbering redhead, he asked, “What do we do with her?”
Before anyone else could respond, a woman’s voice from the stairs answered, “With any luck, she won’t remember a thing.”
Turning toward the stairs as her parents descended them, Mick said, “I remember when it happened to me.”
“I know,” Brady nodded, “and we’re prepared for that outcome as well, but for now, we just need to assume she won’t recall a thing since she has no magical upbringing.”
“And, if she does remember what happened,” Mack continued, “she knows she can go to you all if she needs help.”
“How would she know that if she’s been unconscious the whole time?” Kona asked as she and Bentley worked on starting a fire in the hearth.
Vivien sighed, “There were moments where Serena broke through and talked to us. She asked us for help more than once.”
“Then why didn’t we just bring her home and let her talk with us when she’s ready?” Kona asked.
“Because she’ll need support,” Mick replied. “When I woke up from it, all I wanted was comfort from the people around me, but I was too scared I would hurt someone to ask for it.”
Mack hummed her agreement, “And, if Serena realizes from the start that it’s alright to ask for help, she might find it easier to do so.”
As the adults left the room, heading to the kitchen to help with breakfast, Carrie spoke up, “So, who feels up to waking her?”
Without much hesitation, Vivien stepped up, “I’ll do it.”
“Just don’t waterboard her like you did me,” Mick said with a pointed look at the young brunette.
Vivien smirked, “No promises.”
“Yes, promises,” Carrie insisted.
“Fine,” Vivien sighed dejectedly. “Maybe promises.”
“Good girl,” Carrie said with a tired grin.
Taking in a deep breath, Vivien stepped up to the recliner and slowly pulled the lever to drop to leg rest, allowing it to settle back under the seat of the chair before reaching up and gently shaking the redhead until she stirred. “Serena,” she started, “it’s time to get up.”
The exhausted redhead blinked tiredly up at the brunette before her, a yawn tugging from her lips as she slowly sat up. Looking around at the other occupants of the room, she asked, “What happened?”
Kona scoffed as she and Bentley rose from the floor, “You seriously don’t remember?”
“Not really,” Serena muttered, pressing a hand to the side of her head with a wince. “My head’s still pounding from that bizarre dream I had.”
“Dream?” Royce echoed. “What dream?”
“Just some stupid dream,” Serena scoffed. “Why do you even care?”
“You’re our friend,” Royce stated. At the redhead’s raised brow, he tacked on, “Well, sort of.”
Glancing between the group she used to consider her closest friends, Serena rolled her eyes and sighed, “It was just one of those out-of-body nightmare things, that’s all. Now, why am I here, of all places?”
Without allowing anyone else to control the narrative, Vivien let out a breath of a laugh, leaned against the armrest of the couch, and said, “We aren’t really sure what happened, but my guess would be that you got blackout drunk at your ‘bestie’s party.”
Despite her hazel glare not holding nearly as much aggression as it used to when aimed at someone who had offended her close friends, Serena’s piercing gaze still felt like a threatening knife held to their throats as she hissed, “Why the hell would that be your first guess?”
Attempting to appear unfazed by the girl’s stare, Royce said, “We found you passed out on a bench in the commons, all alone; that’s pretty telling, if you ask me.”
“Violet wouldn’t let me get that wasted,” Serena claimed despite the tentative look in her eyes telling everyone otherwise. “We look out for each other.”
“Yeah, well, regardless,” Vivien sighed, “we brought you back here to get you out of the cold and you fell asleep there before we could get you to move onto the air mattress.”
Stepping up toward where the group had gathered, Bentley said, “We couldn’t find your car, but your keys are on the table by the door.”
“Great,” Serena sighed to herself as she shakily rose from the recliner. Making her way toward the door, the redhead turned back to the group and swallowed thickly before saying, “I’m sorry for the trouble I may or may not have caused, but…  genuinely, thank you.”
“It’s nothing you wouldn’t do for us,” Vivien brushed off with a shrug.
Serena contemplated the statement momentarily, her gaze flitting around the room as she took a deep breath and allowed Vivien’s words to sink in. Whilst she was sure that, in some deep part of herself that she rarely ever investigated, she would agree with Vivien’s simple statement, Serena couldn’t bring herself to voice her thoughts. It did, however, give her something else to contemplate. Could she say the same about her so-called “bestie”? And, in turn, could Violet say the same about her?
Clearing her throat as she met Vivien’s emerald eyes, Serena muttered, “Still. Thanks.”
Vivien nodded as Royce and Bentley accepted the redhead’s statement. Not wanting to stay any longer than she already had, Serena jerked her head in a final, singular nod before turning on her heel, just barely snagging her keys by the initial keychain her mother had given her before scurrying out the door to find wherever she had left her car. Once the door was closed and Vivien was sure the redhead was far enough from the door that she wouldn’t hear her, she asked, “Did you guys really not see her car anywhere?”
“Nope,” Carrie claimed.
Miles chuckled, “I didn’t even look.”
“Chances are it’s at her house,” Mick claimed with a tired snicker.
Kona let out a snort as she began searching for the backpack she had chosen to use as a pillow during the night, “Wouldn’t be the first time she did something like that.”
Vivien hummed as she dragged herself over to the window seat she always claimed in the morning, searching for the shoes she knew she had ditched there at some point during their stay. She could remember a couple of different times when Serena’s car had “gone missing.” Despite only having the vehicle since her birthday back in May, Serena had forgotten where she had parked it more than once, resulting in her stepfather calling in some of his police friends to help search for it. More often than not, it was found within minutes, left in a parking spot she claimed she would never have used or in their garage as the redhead had forgotten she had gotten a ride with a friend, but there were a few times when the car had actually been towed away, and her family had to pay for its release from car jail.
With an amused smirk tugging at her lips, Vivien looked up as Kona called her name, “Yeah?”
“I slept on your dice last night,” Kona said from her spot on the floor, her backpack sitting open in her lap as she held a small, crushed velvet bag out for Vivien to see.
The pouch that Riven gave Vivien for her birthday a few years back had been passed around through their friend group as everyone took turns using the fancy dice within for different Dungeons and Dragons projects. Kona almost always used the dice for creating maps or, when she felt like it, a way to randomize her character creations for different games. Vivien's collection of dice was like a library to Kona - something for her to explore and borrow to her heart's content. However, the fact that the young blonde had slept on a myriad of pointy, oddly-shaped dice was something Vivien had to wonder if she had done before.
With a chuckle, Vivien shook her head and picked her shoes up from the floor as she stood, “Why am I not surprised?”
Watching the brunette place her shoes by the door and head back toward the window, Kona said, “Here, catch!”
Whirling around as the bag soared through the air, Vivien watched as the strings loosened, sending a couple of the crystalline dice tumbling out from their holster. With a gasp, she dropped her shoes and reached for the glittering dice, only to watch them come to a stop just above the hardwood floors. Peering up at her friend from her spot on the floor, Kona’s widened eyes found Vivien’s as they realized that the dice were now levitating a few inches above the floor, a hazy, amethyst glow shimmering around each individual die. Vivien glanced around at her friends, who had since turned from their conversations to see what had happened. Seeing as none of them had been watching, she realized that none of them could have been the one preventing her dice from hitting the floor.
Looking from the still-floating dice to Kona, Vivien softly asked, “Is that you?”
Slowly, Kona shook her head, “No, is it you?”
“How could it be me?” Vivien asked in return. “I don’t have magic anymore.”
“Well, if it’s not me,” Kona began, slowly shifting her gaze onto the other occupants of the room as she gestured to them, “and it wasn’t any of them, it has to be you.”
Vivien’s gaze shifted as she scanned over her friends, watching as their eyes slowly turned from Kona to the dice and, finally, onto her. Amazed confusion lined their faces, and while a part of her understood why, she wanted nothing more than for one of them to step up and help or, at the very least, admit that they were the one to use their magic to keep her dice from the hardwood. As she found his eyes, Vivien noticed that Bentley looked ready to step up and take the dice to keep her from worrying, but as Mick stood from the couch, he held himself back, leaving Vivien standing stock-still in an attempt to keep herself together. 
Hesitantly, Mick said, “Try putting them back in the bag without touching anything.”
Vivien’s head shook as her eyes widened, her fingers twitching anxiously at the thought of completing the challenge, “I don’t think I want to.”
Mick chuckled, “Yes, you do.”
Swallowing the growing pressure in her throat, Vivien shook her head once more, “If I drop these, not only will they break, but I’m pretty sure I will too, so no, I really don’t want to move them.”
Despite the smile on her face, Mick let out a sigh and shook her head before shifting her gaze onto the two boys who lingered just behind the couch. Gesturing for them to come over with a nod of her head, Mick took a step back as Royce and Bentley breezed by her to stand on either side of Vivien. Kona scrambled off the floor to join them, assuring Vivien she would only be there to step in if they needed her to before taking up the space Mick vacated.
Bentley placed a hand on Vivien’s arm with a smile, “You’ve got this Viv.”
“Just remember to breathe,” Royce added.
Vivien nodded slowly, taking in a breath before asking, “Together?”
“Always,” Kona agreed.
As ridiculous as it felt to be so concerned about dropping a handful of glow-in-the-dark resin dice, Vivien couldn’t help but feel as though she would pass out if the violet haze around the dice disappeared. Slowly, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, watching as shades of gold, flickers of pink, and shimmers of blue melded together to form a galactic array of colors around each of the dice. Allowing her attention to split off from the dice, Kona jerked her wrist toward the floating bag and brought it closer to the group, a pink and blue nebula keeping the pouch open as rings of honey yellow, navy blue, and plum purple dropped the dice into their original confines. 
Once the dice had been returned to the small bag, Bentley snagged the bag out of the air and smiled as his eyes scanned over those present. “We did it,” he declared softly as the others rose from the couch to commend them.
“We did,” Royce echoed with a breathy laugh.
“But-” Vivien cut herself off with a disbelieving chuckle. “But how? I thought we gave up our magic.” 
As though a lightbulb had flickered on inside her head, Kona’s eyes lit up and she pushed her way through the gathering group, beelining for the kitchen. Bentley was quick to follow, weaseling his way past Miles and ducking under Carrie’s incoming hug with a quick apology as Kona stepped into the kitchen. Sharing a look and a simple shrug, Royce and Vivien were quick to follow, the older group following close behind and just entering the kitchen as Kona stated, “You guys lied about them giving up their magic, didn't you?”
Though the way the small blonde had worded her statement gave the adults very little room to argue, Dorothea found an easy way to avoid the topic as she smiled and said, “Well, good morning to you too, Kona.”
“Don’t dodge the question,” Kona huffed with a roll of her eyes. “You told them to give their magic to Carrie, Mick, and Miles, but they have magic this morning. Why did you say they were giving up all their magic?”
“Technically,” Dorothea began, “I didn’t.”
“You said the eclipse could make it permanent,” Vivien argued. "That was a big factor as to why you said to try other means first."
“But she never said it would be permanent,” Brady countered. “She only said it was a possibility.”
Mack smiled as she set her cup of tea down on the table, “It wasn't a full exchange of magic, therefore, you were never in any true danger of giving up your powers.”
Glancing down at his hands as though they were suddenly no longer his own, Miles peered at the girls on either side of him and softly asked, “Does that mean we don’t have magic anymore?”
“Oh, no,” Brady said with a shake of his head, taking a sip of his morning coffee. “You three should have your full powers just the same as the kids will after a few more hours.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” Carrie claimed. “If the spell was for the kids to give their powers to us, shouldn’t only some of us have magic?”
“Only for twelve hours,” Dorothea claimed, setting the coffee pot back on the crochet pot holder she had made a few months back.
“Give or take,” Mack added.
“I'm lost,” Bentley muttered as he rubbed remnants of sleep from the corner of his eye.
“Yeah,” Mick began, confusion looping its way around her words. “We thought it was potentially permanent.”
“But it wasn’t,” Brady said. “Like when I gave away my magic, the spell wasn’t a one-and-done, permanent thing. I’m able to take it or leave it as I wish, and last night, you kids did something similar. The only difference is that your new magic should be permanent.”
“But what about us?” Royce pressed as he gestured to Vivien and Bentley. "I'm pretty sure we all can vividly remember the feeling of our magic leaving us, but now it's back. How does that make any sense?"
Dorothea pushed out her chair and stood as she explained, “During a lunar eclipse, magic can be drawn into a vessel for twelve hours. Normally, the vessel is an inanimate object and the magic will force its way back to the holder in full by the time the twelve hours have passed.”
“However,” Brady began, “since she gave you the spell to transfer your magic to another human being, the transfer left traces of magic inside of them, granting them just as much magic as you have, even after your magic returns to you.”
“Well,” Mack started, “as soon as the spell wears off, that is.”
Dorothea found herself smiling calmly as the eyes of her children and their friends landed on her. However, she couldn’t help the pang of hurt in her heart as Vivien softly asked, “Why didn’t you tell us that?”
Stepping forward with a gentle smile, Dorothea tried to placate the group as she stated, “I knew from experience that, if you truly believed that you would never have magic again, it would make those who inherited it from you feel as though they had to fight twice as hard to win the battle.”
Carrie scoffed a laugh as she recalled just how incinerated the commons looked after their fight with Serena had started, “It certainly worked.” 
“And, another thing,” Brady tacked on as he poured some creamer into his coffee, “if you believed your powers were gone forever, so would Serena.”
Dorothea nodded, shifting her gaze from Brady to the children before her as she spoke, “That meant she wouldn’t go after any of you and would only target her attack on the ones she believed had magic.”
“It saved you three from any potential danger,” Mack claimed.
As incredulous looks were shared and relieved sighs fell through exhausted lips, comments of disbelief flooded the kitchen as everyone attempted to force themselves into some form of normalcy. As Miles began pulling cups and plates from the cupboards for the others to take and Vivien muttered something about having a love-hate relationship with evil witches under her breath, Kona said, “I can’t believe we didn’t piece all of this together earlier.”
With a snicker he shared with his wife and childhood friend, Brady sipped his coffee and said, “As we said last night, you kids have a lot to learn.”
Dorothea nodded, a proud smile filling her features as she observed the group and said, "And we will be there to teach you."
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lady-lostmind · 10 months ago
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Steddie Big Bang Wrap Up!
Now that all of the @steddiebang projects I was involved in are wrapping up I just want to make a post for all of them. My fic: And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife is finally finished! It's officially the longest thing I've ever written and I'm really proud of it.
Explicit | 138,192 | 50/50 chapters
Author/Artist: @lady-lostmind Artist: @fancycheliniarts | Art | Art Beta: @oh-stars | Art Summary: Steve and Eddie get very close after the world almost ends. Eddie makes a move and it quickly backfires when Steve pulls away. Eddie, not knowing how to deal with the rejection, runs. They live completely separate lives for years until Steve realizes maybe he's not living the life he actually wants, and throws himself back into Eddie's world. Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Miscommunication, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Addiction, Infertility, Infidelity, Not Nancy Wheeler Friendly, Happy Ending Guaranteed  My Art:
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Fics I drew art for: From Hell And Back
Explicit | 165,361 | 30/30 chapters
Author: @rindecision   Artists: @lady-lostmind | Art @feralsteddie | Art Cheerleader: @atmilliways Beta: Anonymous Summary: One Halloween, years after the fall of Hawkins, Steve and Robin end up summoning Eddie from the depths of Hell. Steve, not knowing the ways of the occult, accidentally frees him and has to deal with a mischievous demon on the loose. Eddie drives Steve insane with various shapeshifting antics, both in and out of the bedroom, while Robin tries to find a way to send him back to hell. But, when faced with the opportunity to return his life to normal, will Steve even want to go through with it? OR Lots of supernatural, hentai-esque smut with a playful, romantic plot.Pairings: Steddie | Background Robin/Vickie Characters: Eddie |Steve | Robin | Vickie | Female OC Tags: Demon Eddie Munson, Post-Canon, Crack Treated Seriously, Shapeshifting, Fluff, Crack, Humor, Size Difference, Eventual Romance, Mutual Pining, Steve Bisexual Awakening, Comical misunderstandings, Pocket-sized Eddie, Monsterfucking,Tentacles, These Bitches be Switches, Unrequited Love My Art:
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memoria (come as you are)
Mature | 2/8 chapters
Artist: @lady-lostmind | Art Beta: @glaftwlet
Summary: It's January 1996 and Steve has recently moved to Pennsylvania for a new job as a children's librarian. Urged to do something with his evenings by Robin, he goes to a bar around the corner from his apartment and sees someone who looks an awful like Eddie Munson playing his guitar. Only no one has seen Eddie in almost ten years. Eddie Munson, whilst on the brink of death, was not so gently urged into the supernatural department of the United States Federal Witness Protection Program. The time he was in the program, he was stripped of everything he had and thought he knew, and was forced to become someone entirely new. He’s still trying to figure out who that person is. It’s been almost ten years, and in that time the only thing he has learned is that he is okay with being alone. He has to be. Otherwise known as, a story about finding the people you’ve lost, healing rifts (the personal kind, not the supernatural kind) and maybe for once, finally, falling in love. Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Nancy Wheeler/Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Eddie Munson & Dustin Henderson Tags: Alternate Universe — Canon Divergence, 1990s, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson in Witness Protection, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson
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itwoodbeprefect · 1 year ago
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fic writer 20 questions
i was tagged by @luredin! thank you! <3
i feel like i've done this one (or one very like it) at some point before, but i couldn't find it when i went searching, so maybe i just read through it and composed answers in my head? or my very confused tagging system is understandably failing me.
How many works do you have on AO3?
right now, 242!
What's your total AO3 word count?
587,542.
What fandoms do you write for?
several! these days mainly starsky & hutch, but h50 is still very present too, and i think both stargate atlantis and 911 may also be worth mentioning. beyond that there's a lot of other things for which i'm working on a single fic, or there's a document with multiple of them but i only open it once in a blue moon.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
well. four out of five of these are for a fandom i wouldn't write for anymore today for obvious reasons, and the other one (Tell me I'm perfect) is a Shadowhunters fic:
It's the truth
Tell me I'm perfect (but tell me the truth)
I dare you to dare me
Finders Keepers
That escalated quickly
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
i wish i did! i keep trying to get into a healthier habit on that front, because i love comments and i'd like to say thank you and engage with people more, but it's a complicated thing - not in real life, but in my head, unfortunately.
What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
not an easy question, and it's not because there's too many to pick from! i'll indulge in a little melancholy at times, and maybe even a somewhat things-aren't-perfect ending, but generally there's at the very least a solid spark of hope even if the rest of the fic was sad. i think maybe Sobering (a mash hawk/trap fic) could qualify for actual angst, but even that one i seem to have tagged as "angst? i think?" when i posted it.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
now this, this is where we get tangled up in weighing a hundred fluffy fics against each other to decide happiness rankings! maybe something like Flowers for no reason but you missed me (starsky/hutch) or And I love every inch of you (And then some, and then some) (h50 steve/danny) because both of those are just pure giddy happiness start to finish, which means the happiness has been building for the longest by the time the ending rolls around.
Do you get hate on fics?
thankfully, not really! most of my stuff is deeply inoffensive. there's been a sporadic comment here or there over the years of someone randomly telling me they didn't agree with something i wrote (by which i don't mean people pointing out genuine mistakes - that's very different, and very helpful), but even then i wouldn't necessarily classify that as "hate", just as a very awkward way to respond to reading something that annoys you for whatever reason. what springs to mind is one that started with "i have not seen the episode" and then proceeded to interpret an in context line from a character as my personal beliefs on whether children are capable of evil, so. that kind of thing.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
not officially! but unofficially i've been told that it's fun and really really sweet, so no surprises there.
Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
not usually, which means that the craziest (and only) one on ao3 is probably the h50/s&h crossover (Said the apple to the orange), which is truly very uncrazy.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
i wonder about that sometimes (i feel like after many many years and with the recent bot stuff on top, the answer should maybe be "probably"), but not that i know of!
there was an instance once of someone copying a story title, but they did so in a way that didn't even work. i was writing in dutch at the time, but english titles were Very Cool, so my story was called "ladies, bugs and ladybugs", and the other person took that, translated it to dutch, and used that for their story, which. those words don't match up the same way in the slightest, so it's just a random sequence of things by that point.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
yes! actually, i was probably the first person to translate any of my fic - all of the very, very early stuff posted to ao3 was just an english copy of originally dutch stories - but these days there are also a lot of russian translations (russians seem to be very active in h50 fandom!), some mandarin, some french. one italian, i think. it's very cool!
also, shout out to people who do podfics, too. <3
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
a few attempts were made over the years, but most of that never went very far for one reason or another. none of it is on ao3.
What's your all-time favorite ship?
as of right now, probably starsky/hutch!
What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
oh, i'm afraid i could fill, well, lists. one that immediately comes to mind that's technically a little past this category because i know i'll never finish it is a very long h50 project in which i took up about a hundred different little threads from the series and tried to weave them together into a giant fix-it-ish getting together coming out case fic sort of thing, and i still think the plotting work for that one was sound, but i'm just never going to actually get 100k down for a fic like that at this point in my life. (note that this is not a fic that's already up on ao3 in part - i'll finish those, one way or another.)
and oh my, for maybe a better answer: the starsky-watches-cowboy-movies starsky/hutch fic. i want to write that one, i do! and i am, and i do have real hope that i may one day finish it, but it's a fairly ambitious project in multiple ways, so there are some serious obstacles i will need to find some way around.
What are your writing strengths?
i love the patter of writing dialogue! people tell me characters sound believable and like themselves, so that's nice. also, balancing ridiculously fluffy things in such a way that it doesn't tip over into saccharine, and i also think i manage good jokes sometimes. i've been working on descriptions and atmosphere, and that's been fun.
What are your writing weaknesses?
i've completely unlearned how to write long stories! and ironically, i do write a lot of overlong sentences. also, i'll turn to google for absolutely anything, but deep down i'm a pretty impatient writer when research is needed and it doesn't happen to be a subject i'm already interested in, which oftentimes means i'd rather handwave things or scrap the idea entirely, even though i think really well-researched fic is amazing. and on that note, no matter how much american media and internet content i consume, i'm not american and have never been to america, which can be a challenge when writing for almost exclusively american fandoms. (i think i understand beds now, but i'll have to google sinks one of these days.)
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
ha! this was a thing that was very, very common for a while in my dutch fic writing community, because more or less all of the fictional properties and/or real life celebrities people were writing about were british or american (maybe with tokio hotel as the one notable exception), so there was A Lot of fic written in dutch with stilted high school english dialogue thrown in. i was never very into that, but hey, if it makes you happy, definitely go for it, and that goes double if it's just a few sentences for flavor! compared to what i used to see, ao3 culture is extremely conservative with these sorts of things.
all of which i say while also still, in the back of my head, considering the possibility of writing a really obnoxious ted lasso fic with 90% dutch dialogue, so. i too might become guilty at some point in the future.
First fandom you wrote for?
twilight! it was nessie/jacob, with i think a love triangle with a vampire thrown in. we all have to start somewhere.
Favorite fic you've ever written?
i recently reread How To Build A Triangle (or accidentally fall headlong into one, or whatever the fuck) and i still think it's really good and fun, plus it's a minor miracle that i got it finished so easily! there's a decent chance i'd name a different fic if you asked me again tomorrow, though.
Tagging
I have no idea who has already done this or been tagged for it, so I'm just going to throw a few names out there (@redgoldblue @actingcamplibrarian @stephmcx @spurious @goneahead), and then give the usual disclaimer that obviously i'm tagging you all with no pressure, and that if anyone sees this and it seems like a fun list of questions, i'm tagging you too! ✨
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strandnreyes · 1 year ago
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
@rmd-writes @welcometololaland @three-drink-amy thanks for providing me with procrastination material <3
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
58
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
957,577. with the unpublished words of meet you after dark, I'll be very close to 1,000,000. I'm almost certain I'll hit it by the end of the year (at least that's my goal)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
911 Lone Star
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
anchor up to me, love (this being my top fic by kudos is so shocking to me lol it's just a 3x05 coda that I think I wrote the day after the episode aired, I really didn't think it was that special)
pushing boundaries
haunted by the ghost of you
one single thread
yours for the weekend
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes, I try to respond to them all! That being said, I've very behind right now but I promise I'll get back to you!
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
hold on - This is probably the only 'unhappy' ending I have, but it's more so just unresolved because it's a 3x01 coda written before any of the other episodes in that arc aired. and 3x01 is not a happy episode lol
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
they pretty much all do in general so I don't think I could pick one specifically that stands out
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Not really, but it has happened a few times
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Yes, but usually incorporated within a story, not as a standalone. I think the only PWP fic I wrote is when push comes to shove. and even that has some plot
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
No crossovers
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
As far as I'm aware, no
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I don't think so
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not officially
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
Carlos and TK <3
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
idk if I can call this a WIP, but there's always been an idea in my mind about writing a fic inspired by the book Carlos was writing in as if you were a mythical thing. it's a 1970s camp counselor slasher murder mystery style fic that I wrote a little bit of for this prompt fill, but I don't know if a full au will ever come out of it. shame because the playlist and moodbord would slap
16. What are your writing strengths?
world building, banter, angst that feels like a punch in the gut, giving the happy ending room to breathe
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
smut I feel like. need to learn new ways to say the same exact thing
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I think it makes total sense and feels authentic for it to be there every once in a while for non-crucial story details if a character speaks another language
19. First fandom you wrote for?
911 Lone Star
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
I'm going to go with your first string. I think that has my most full-fledged character arcs and full circle storyline. It's my longest fic and I never really got sick of writing it, which is a pretty good indicator that I enjoyed it
no pressure tagging @reyesstrand @carlos-in-glasses @theghostofashton @orchidscript @freneticfloetry + anyone else!
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chameliyun · 1 year ago
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20 Q's for Fic Writers
thanks for the tag @spacejammie-eimmajecaps!
How many works do you have on ao3? Officially 8, but I have one on anon and one currently unrevealed in a fic exchange
What's your total ao3 word count? 61,996
What fandoms do you write for? So far I've written for Death Note, Tangled the Series, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Haikyuu, plus a couple of crossovers. Haikyuu is definitely my main rn though
What are your top five fics by kudos? #1: Frosting and Freckles: 69 (nice) #2: Draw Me Near: 39 #3: [embarrassing anon fic]: 35 #4: Varian Is Not a Wizard: 25 #5: Midnight Coda: 21
Do you respond to comments? Yeah, I love to! I don't get a lot so they always make me happy :)
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? probably the anon fic sdfsk but other than that, Midnight Coda is kinda bittersweet because of what happens later
What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? hmm idk but the sappiest is definitely Frosting and Freckles
Do you get hate on fics? Not so far, thankfully! I don't think I have a big enough readership for that haha
Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have not; not sure what kind it would be if I did
Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? I love writing crossovers! A PJO/HP crossover was actually what got me into fanfic. Unfortunately most of them are merely concepts or abandoned (for now), but as for crazy, I think my Lunar Chronicles/PJO one is the craziest in terms of how the plot grew out of control from a simple "what if these two characters interacted" to "I could rewrite most of this series," which is why I got stuck and put it on hiatus lol but I do want to get back to it someday. Maybe once I finish my other active crossover
Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge
What's the longest you've spent working on one fic? And the shortest? Uhhh well if we count "working on" as "having it in the back of mind to get to but haven't worked on in months," probably Sent from the Heavens lol. If not, then Varian Is Not a Wizard (just over two years since I published the first chapter). Shortest is definitely Midnight Coda, since I wrote that pretty much in a day iirc
Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but it sounds like it could be fun!
What's your all-time favorite ship? From all fandoms? Dude I have no idea how to narrow that down. Best I can give you is my current fave is Tsukkiyama from Haikyuu
What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably my "Leo Valdez ends up in the ATLA world" one :sob: It never made it past the word doc and about three pages of story and I haven't looked at it in like two years
What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm pretty good at dialogue and grammar/spelling
What are your writing weaknesses? Everything else (jk). I am awful at describing scenes/settings; I get bored writing them so I don't put as much effort in as I should haha. I also tend to ramble and use passive voice too much
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I haven't done it, but I think it's fine as long as it fits the context
First fandom you wrote for? Published: Avatar: The Last Airbender. Unpublished: Percy Jackson
Favorite fic you've written? I think it's still Bent Out of Shape. It's so niche, but I had an idea and I executed it, and I'm proud of what I accomplished. Although once I finish Varian Is Not a Wizard, that might take the top slot.
No-pressure tagging: @supermarine-silvally @starrynightarchive @litterateur97 @palant1r @soreiya @lilac-writes @oloreandil @kandybarkreepshow @ellegamgee and anyone else who wants to!
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j2zara · 3 months ago
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Hiiiiii~ 2, 4, 7, 10, 22, 24, 30 for the fic writer game! 💖
Hiiiii friend! Sorry this took all day my brain is dead rn
2. a character whose POV you’re currently exploring
Lol i'm banging my head against the wall getting killed by LJ3porter fic so i'm like. Right in Girlfail Ellie J4 POV hell rn!!!! She's so fun and i do think writing for her is both easy and hard in that i enjoy doing it (and tbh i think i default to her pov usually when im in LJ3 mode) but i worry i make her way too sopping wet and pathetic. Which she can be pathetic but i worry im going like. way too sad wattpad girl with her.
4. a story idea you haven’t written yet
OK! I've talked about a few different things before so i'm gonna. Well. I'm two sentences into twelfth night j2 being sent to pursue Jace on Porter's behalf fic so i feel like that counts as "not written yet." I also talk about how. I think doing a reincarnation au for LJ3 or the clones in general would be so fun. i'm not sure what kind tho, the version in which they're all new teachers at aguefort is so fun and kinda stuck in my brain now. Plus i wanna write Barbarian teacher Tiefling!Ellie x Sorcerer teacher Aasimar!J3 like so so so so bad i think it would be such a funny way to have them never escaping the torment nexus. I also think it would be fun to write something abt LJ3 in their friends with benefits era. Or maybe one of their more official "date nights". I think if they got into doing roleplay in the bedroom is would be so so so so so so fucking funny. Like. Pretending the other is stranger they picked up at the bar or something.
7. your preferred writing fonts
Tbh i kinda would like to find a perfect writing font? I tend to default Arial and it doesn't look perfect its honestly kinda offputting but. my strategy is. When I feel like my writing looks so so so busted i switch to Verdana which is closer to the ao3 font so i can better visualize how it's gonna look. And that helps a bit. Idk im sick.
10. what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?
That's a good question. Actually? A couple years i think? I abandoned my old talentswap for a couple years before picking it up again in college. (tbh my current ch 3.3 is STILL unfinished so i abandoned it again). Tbh i'm not good at letting drafts rest and returning back to them. I either try to power through or end up abandoning it which i don't love
22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?
I try not to but like. Yeah. I'm stressed basically every time. I joke that when i write original fiction that i have a hoard of angry twitter pearlclutchers that live in my head ready to rip everything i do to shreds but i try not to listen to them. But i'm worried every time. This has nothing to do with how i feel about you guys tbh i wildly underestimate your guys kindness and goodwill just bc im very hard on myself
I was anxious abt IYWD (I was worried it was gonna come across as too soft or too apologetic). I was anxious that nobody would take to Dyke!Jace/Zara in Who Can Blame a Girl, or i wouldn't be able to sell it
I probably MOST anxious of all about Almost (I was SO stressed that ppl were not gonna vibe at all with Bluejay or not gel with the whole "what if the clones were actual characters" , "born to love porter cliffbreaker, forced to do menial tasks for jaceprime" etc etc thought experiment. and i was so so so so so so scared about dropping the nickname Bluejay i was worried it was gonna be completely stupid and i was completely off the mark)
I was anxious abt Biggest Lie (i was worried it wasn't hot enough or maybe too violent or that it was maybe too shamelessly just like. smut lol).
And after Almost i was probably second most anxious about Stay / Leave. It was just a wip i really struggled with and idk it was so.... insular i guess? b/c it was so niche and the wip ended up being SO LONG and kinda emotional and sappy? Like again i think i was having the same doubts i had abt j2 in which i was like what if i can't sell people on this relationship. What if i've failed to convey something sincere. (that one was crazy tho bc i really really really really tried to release it and not care what happened bc i knew only a handfull of ppl would read it and i really really really tried to be cool and for a while i was but it was just hard i was so nervous and i don't think it was anyones reaction is really was just my nerves that were putting me in such a bad and upset mood and then over the next day or two i. I made this joke earlier that like. I PROMISE and hope i'm not overinflating my ego when i say this like i'm perfectly aware that i just write silly smut online but it really was so so so so funny. to see everyone practically overnight be like.... wait. Are LJ3..... in love??? And now LJ3 is like such an integral part of clone lore.
24. how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?
That's a good question bc i feel like. When i'm stuck in one medium i tend to just try and distract myself with another so when im bad at drawing i write and when im bad at writing i draw. But thats not exactly recharging. Tbh i do think i need to find better things in my routine that rejuvenate me i think i haven't been particularly good at treating myself well lately
30. share a fic you’re especially proud of
I'm cringe and usually will shill if you want divinity (you're gonna have to go through me) as one of my favorite things i've ever written. But im also extremely confident most of y'all have already read it. I'm very very hard on myself so i swing between thinking the things i make suck and also being like. Fairly proud of all of them.
But idk it was my first ambitious thing i wrote and FINISHED in a long time and honestly? I do think its slightly better than the rest bc the iterations are all reliant on the original so they're very intertextual and repetitive which isn't BAD but. The extra work it took to make IYWD work makes it feel different to me. There's a LOT of stuff in it that i'm proud of that i honestly kind of miss b/c Porter is so smitten for Jace in a way he hasn't been in things i've written in a long time. I'm a softy who likes when jaceporter are soft and kinda in love... sue me... And like. i always feel so self congratulatory talking about the Loving To the Point of Invention Detect Thoughts + Teleport but i really felt good about coming up with that. And i still like the flashbacks a lot. It always feels so embarrassing to admit that i like. Get emotional thinking about the flashback of them on the bed. Sometimes i tailor make a scene just for me. "I promise i'm never going to let anything happen to you ever again" "as a paladin or a barbarian" "both" is like. Such a scene just for me. And I think the ending is good too. "I'll take it. I'll take it all" just felt so. fitting. It's so him getting to hear himself say to porter "i'll take the thing with you that is broken and fucked and full of compromises even if it has to end". Sigh. Sometimes you're an english major and you agonize over being a good writer for like two decades and realize that you might not be as horrible as you think.
(For the record. i think if i were to rank what i've written for fantasy high from fav to least fave, i'd say IYWD, Biggest Lie, Stay / Leave, Who Can Blame a Girl, Almost, Tell Me How, and it feels weird to put Almost that low bc i do like it. Tbh i regret making it so short i think i could've pushed it further)
Anyway!!! This got long winded as hell. Thanks for the asks they were fun to do!
Send me Fic Writer Asks! / Here are the questions!
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lamuradex · 14 hours ago
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Lucid and Dreaming (That is not the best banner but I tried)
A Horror Short Story (Wordcount: 11,380)
This is the longest Horror short story I've ever written. Please enjoy.
Maya learned to lucid dream so she could get some control over her sleeping hours. She's able to visit memories, relive moments with her girlfriend Ashley, and use her dreams for her own benefit. But what happens when you can't tell dreams from reality? WAKE UP, MAYA! Ashley is waiting for you. And she's in your dreams too.
A decent length short story about a woman, Maya, trapped in her dreams. Reliving, or possibly flashing forwards, with dreams about her girlfriend, or possibly her wife, Ashley, Maya starts to find she can't even trust her own mind while she's asleep, and she doesn't know where the dreams end.
Content: Light Gore, Dreams, Implied Nudity, Slight Body Horror, Unreality
My Writing tag: #Lamura Dex Writes!
Please enjoy this and my other works. Novels and major WIPS are linked in the pinned post on the blog. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
Anyway, onto the story!
Lucid and Dreaming
So, you want to learn how to lucid dream?
My name is Maya, I’m 25, and I learned to lucid dream because there are only so many hours in the day to process everything. I’m a busy woman, a photographer, and to be able to spend my sleeping hours as well as my waking ones thinking just seems the best of both worlds. And it isn’t as hard as you’d imagine.
I wake up in my bed. I then have to check if I’m dreaming.
The trick to it is to have a tell. Dream checks and the like, something to let you know you’re asleep. Some people consciously check if they’re dreaming several times a day, so they’ll notice when they actually are. Others train their brain to create a subconscious tell, like a flag or a bouncing red ball. If that’s there, then they’re dreaming. It was a lot of effort to go to, and I’m not gonna say it’s consistent, but it’s certainly better than the nightmares I used to have. Now I’ve got some control. Now I can dream whatever I want.
So I wake up in my bed and check if I’m dreaming. I raise my hands and count my fingers. That’s normal. I check if I’m breathing. Seem to be. I find something to read. There’s a book on my bedside table that I haven’t read yet. It’s title is… The Ballad of Princcccwew Strorrr
That’s not right. Not right at all. And so, I must be dreaming. Here we go.
I jump out of bed and run downstairs. My Mum is in the kitchen cooking breakfast and my dog is sat at the table. This is strange for a number of reasons, such as me not having a dog and me moving out from home years ago. I’m definitely dreaming.
I ignore them and head outside. Suddenly, it’s my childhood street, not the one I really live on. No matter. It’ll take me where I want to go.
I try to focus. If you really focus, you can sometimes control it. Change the dream. And I want to relive something.
I concentrate and keep walking. The street becomes a park. The park shouldn’t be anywhere near this street, but it doesn’t matter. There she is. My best friend, Ashley. Well, more than a best friend now. We made it official last week, when she kissed me on that very bench. We’d been dancing around it for weeks and finally…
I want to relive that kiss. I want to live in that moment again. Her look of shyness, her hurried explanation. Her light brown skin, deep brown eyes, and that silky chocolate hair, all so perfect in the afternoon light. That smile, those lips, the ones she insists on painting red. Like an invitation. And those words seared into my brain.
“I know we’ve known each other a long time, but I can’t keep pretending. Things are different now. You know, after that party a few weeks ago… when we almost…”
“What are you saying, Ash?”
“I’m saying… I really did want to, that night, and it wasn’t just the beer talking. I wanted to kiss you. I… like you, Maya. Like, a lot. I really like you.”
I remember blushing. The heat replays in my cheeks in the dream. “Really?”
“Yes!” she exclaims, punching me in the arm. “Oh my god, as if it weren’t obvious. I’ve been staring at you ever since.”
“I noticed.”
“And you’ve been freaking flirting with me. Just… I didn’t want to ruin what we have. You’re my best friend, May.”
“And you’re mine too. But that doesn’t mean our friendship is ending. It’s just… gotten deeper. More interesting. More… intimate.”
I sit back, arms behind my head, casual as I can be. Girlfriends are nothing new to me… unfortunately. A string of bad luck there. But Ashley has only been out of the closet a couple of years. And I loved her even before that. Have to play it a little cool, not freak her out.
“More intimate?” she asks.
“Yeah. It means… we get to do stuff. And be together. And kiss.”
Ashley’s eyes widen. I almost laugh. I would have too had I not been just as terrified.
“I’d… I’d like that,” she says finally.
“Like we were going to at the party?”
“Kiss me. Right now.”
I remember it well. It plays out in the dream. I didn’t even have time to ask a question. Her hand just grabs my chin, spins my head, and her ruby painted lips plant against my beige ones. Softness, gentleness, a thrill like lightning down my spine. And I relive it all in the dream.
And then she pulls away. Her phone buzzes. I still curse that phone sometimes. She leaves.
I am alone, but I don’t feel alone. Not anymore.
I want to relive it again. Live in the dream. Live in that moment forever.
But, like a fine wine, I want to savour it. Like a song I really enjoy, I want to hold off on listening to it. I don’t want to dull my enjoyment by replaying it too much. I don’t want to wear down the grooves on the record. I’ll leave it stuck in my head for a while.
I get up and walk home. My street is my street again. My dog and my Mum are gone. I wander back upstairs.
The other problem with lucid dreaming is waking up. If you’re in a dream world, how do you end it, if it doesn’t feel like you’re dreaming? Some people just beg to wake up. Some can compel themselves to do so. Me, I’ve trained myself to have an out. An escape. An exit.
Behind a picture in my room, a picture of Ashley hung on the wall, is a sticker she stuck there. Just a red circle, to cover up a crack, but every time I see it I think it’s a button for half a second. And in my dreams that’s what it is. A button, round and red, with “Exit” written on it. It’s not subtle, but it’s also my final dream check, in case all others fail.
I press it and I wake up. Easy as that.
-
I wake up in my bed. I’m in my room. I kiss my fingers and plant the kiss on the photo of Ashley, barely having to look. Then I get up and head downstairs. My house, my stairs, my kitchen. No Mum, no dog, and my house is on my proper street. All is well.
“Morning,” says my husband. He’s cooking breakfast and…
That’s not right… Is it?
I look at him. Jeff. He’s polite, he’s charming, I know there was a wedding, I remember it. He’s cooking breakfast, bacon and eggs, and whistling a jaunty tune. And I love him, don’t I? But in my dream…
Was Ashley just a dream?
My brain curls around that idea. He comes over and kisses me on the cheek, putting down my breakfast. But Ashley seemed so…
“Everything alright, honey?” he asks.
“Everything’s fine,” I answer distantly.
Dream checks. I need dream checks. I check my hands, nothing wrong there. There’s a ring on my finger, which is interesting. I think back to when I woke up. Is my bed actually big enough for two? I don’t know. What about me breathing? Have I been-
I haven’t been breathing. Not since I woke up. I certainly haven’t been smelling the breakfast, lovingly cooked by Jeff. I should have smelled it by now. And suddenly, I recognise him. Jeff. He’s wearing the face of some celebrity. A reused head for the dream. He’s the man who does the toothpaste ads. I recognise the pearly white smile.
Further confirmation, as if I need it, I look at Jeff’s newspaper. It’s the Daily Cryer Crysler Crisper… Nonsense. I’m still dreaming.
I abandon the breakfast and hurry back upstairs. There’s a picture of Jeff beside my bed. It was definitely Ashley before. I’m definitely still dreaming… but just to be sure, I slip the picture aside and there it is. The Exit Button. I hit it without delay.
-
I wake up in my bed. That was… strange. I rub my eyes tiredly. Not to worry though, you hear about this stuff happening. Hell, it happens to people who don’t lucid dream. You dream that you’ve woken up but you’re really still dreaming.
I kiss my fingers and plant it on Ashley’s photo, right beside my bed, reaching over The Ballad of Prince Antoine, the book I’ve been meaning to read. And I can read the title now, which is good. I get up and… I double check the photo on my wall is still Ashley before I go. It is. I head downstairs.
My house is quiet, as it should be. No Mum, no dog, no Jeff. I rub my eyes again. Tired. You shouldn’t be tired if you spent all night sleeping. You shouldn’t be tired if you spent all night dreaming. It’s bullshit.
Luckily, it’s my day off. Freelance photographer, no jobs lined up for today, a modelling photoshoot tomorrow. And I’m looking forward to it, despite the snootiness. The models are usually fun, it’s the managers who are jerks. But, with nothing to do, I decide to veg out on the couch, phone at my side, texting Ash. Oh, wait… she’s at work. Office job where you aren’t allowed your phone at your desk. Never understood that.
TV is drivel. Daytime talk shows, family dramas in front of an audience, old reruns of older programs that can’t get a good timeslot. It all just blurs together. I’m pretty sure I’m sat there for hours. I check my phone and no texts. Of course there aren’t. It’s barely 11:00am. I get up, make some breakfast, and eat it without really noticing. Toast and… whatever else was in the fridge. Cheese, I think?
I’m back on the couch as if I never left. TV drivel. It’s actually so dull it’s giving me a headache, like it’s draining my brain of any good sense. The clock strikes twelve.
Dream checks. Hands, breathing… there isn’t any writing nearby. No trouble though.
I can barely stand to watch any more and my phone is annoyingly silent. I watched five episodes of something and it’s still only twelve! I can’t take it!
But there is that book I’ve been meaning to read. I’ve put it off, it never seemed too interesting, but why not? It’s been sat on my bedside table for ages and I’ve barely cracked the cover.
I turn off the TV and retrieve the book, looking at the photo of Ash again as I pass. I’ve had that photo for years, from some party. I wonder if she knows I keep it on the wall beside my bed… Of course she does. She stuck a sticker back there. Duh.
Anyway, The Ballad of Prince… whatever his name was. I settle back on the couch, crack the spine, and turn to the first page.
“Once upon a time, there was a veby dandsome blaaand. Blis name waf-”
That’s not right.
I read it again. Something is definitely wrong here. Am I having a stroke? A migraine? God, I hope it isn’t a migraine! Ash gets them and they seem like hell-
Dreaming!
I launch the book across the room, smashing a mirror. I pause. There isn’t a mirror there. But there is now, hanging over the mantle. But there shouldn’t be a mantle there! I look in the fragmented remains of the glass, a face staring back at me. I don’t think its my face. It’s ginger for one thing. Bright ginger. Comically ginger. My hair’s more of a hazelnut. I think I wore that ginger wig for Halloween once though.
The face winks at me.
I scramble back and pull out my phone. Dream checks, dream checks, dream checks! There’s a text from Ash, but after her name it’s just… letters. Just letters in a blue box.
I run upstairs, two at a time, maybe three. Perhaps I’m even flying. I arrive in my room and land on the bed. I look at the photo, still of her, and pull it aside. I find the button.
Not a sticker. A button.
I press it.
-
I wake up in my bed and rub my eyes tiredly. What the hell! I yawn and stretch, knowing I should not be this tired if I slept all-
“Hey, watch it!” Ashley yelps, my hand bumping her cheek. “And good morning to you too.”
I startle, very nearly springing from the bed. I’ve got one foot on the floor before my brain catches up and stops me. Ashley is my wife. I know that. We’ve been married for a year. There’s a ring on my finger. I was just dreaming of our early days. Nostalgia. That’s it. Our first kiss and that past sweet romance. Not that marriage isn’t nice too.
“Are you okay?” she smiles.
“Um… I’m fine, I think.”
“You sure?”
“I…”
Didn’t I just wake up? Just before all this? But of course the dream is already fading, which is always SO frustrating! And Ash looks distractingly beautiful, my wonderful wife, rousing certain *ahem* marital thoughts. And she doesn’t even have her makeup on yet. She’s always had a thing about being seen without it. She’d hate to admit she’s gorgeous either way, lipstick or not. Or without her clothes… And she is naked. Yep. Very naked. Both of us are, actually. And why not? We are a married couple.
“Um…”
“Seriously, you look a million miles away, May.”
“Just… a weird dream,” I answer finally, getting back under the covers and snuggling up to her. All is right here.
“Don’t get too comfy, you’ve got a job to get to.” She flicks my ear.
I groan. I miss my freelance photography job, but a mortgage doesn’t pay itself. I had to join a professional studio, but unfortunately my coworkers suck. The ones who aren’t novices are entitled pricks who think themselves god’s gift to artistry. And all the equipment’s so expensive, and…
“Didn’t you hear me? Your paycheque isn’t under those covers.”
“Something else is though,” I smirk.
She flicks my ear again. “Up! I’ve got to go out too. Margaret says she needs help selling the Haliday property.”
My wife, the realtor. Different office, different job, same frustrations. Annoying coworkers for one. Still, she does look good in that red jacket.
I reluctantly get up. Before I know it, I’m dressed. So is she, and I didn’t even get an eyeful. But work needs doing and dollars need earning. Off we go.
The day goes as you’d expect. At the studio, Frank forgets how to focus the lens again, we’re hired to photograph a family and they insist on including the dog, which makes a mess on the floor. We make Frank clean it. Lunch is a moment of peace. I almost have time for a dream check, before Andrew sees me and laughs, asking what I’m doing. None of your business, Andrew! Back to work. Ted and Andrew are arguing about backdrops for the new client. Andrew wants a brick wall, Ted a field of flowers. I set up a white sheet and the client doesn’t even notice. Andrew says it’s tacky, but fuck Andrew. Five o’clock cannot come soon enough.
It finally creeps along and I dart out the moment the clock turns. Train back, three stops, back down the road. Same house I’ve lived in for years.
I look up and there’s Ash, across the way, just stepping out of the house with a For Sale sign. Someone’s taking down the sign. Good work, Ash. She sees me and waves, hurrying to greet me. A smile, the light in her eyes, a gap between two parked cars-
Headlights! Crack! Thud! The screeching of tires, far too late to be of any use.
It came out of nowhere. The car came out of fucking nowhere! But Ash-
I find her lying in the road. She’s moving, just barely, her neck at a terrible angle. And she can’t speak. She looks up into my eyes, through my eyes, off into the beyond. Just a few guttering breaths escape her lips. A pool of blood is spreading from her. From her arm, her legs, her head. Bones jutting through clothes. I hold her. Hot blood, her head’s at the wrong angle, and then-
Stillness. She stops moving. She stops breathing.
She’s gone.
No….
The ambulance is there before I can realise. I hold her and stroke her motionless cheek. The driver stops and begs that it wasn’t his fault. I kiss her forehead and the sparkle in her eyes has gone. The ambulance men drag her from my arms. Her body hangs limp, eyes empty and staring. I step back. She’s gone… she’s just… gone.
No… NO!
A flood of pain surges up from my stomach, through my heart and into my head. My mind collapses under the strain. It can’t be real! Everything hurts, thinking hurts! She can’t be gone! She can’t be! NO! Her face stands in my mind’s eye, her sparkling eyes, her shattered neck. I look down at myself, at my reddened clothes, at the reddened ground, at the blood that-
There’s no blood.
I look at the road, the doctors, the sheet they’ve thrown over the corpse. It should be crimson, but it’s pure and white. My heart is in my throat, I feel like I should be vomiting, that I should be screaming but-
There’s no blood. This can’t be happening.
This really can’t be happening. This isn’t real.
I run from the scene. Sprint faster than I ever have before. I run inside my house, our house, our home. Everything is deathly silent. I run upstairs and it feels like forever, like time is running backwards. But there’s the photo on the wall. Her photo, her wonderful face, her beautiful eyes. I hesitate before I move it, too hurt to hope. I can’t dare to think I’m wrong. She can’t be gone!
But there’s the button. Not a sticker. A button.
I press it.
-
I wake up in my bed, bolting upright and sweating. It can’t be real, it can’t be! It can’t-
I slowly look round. A form is lying in the bed beside me. Ashley is lying there beside me.
I start to breathe again. My heart slows down. I lay back, staring at her as she sleeps.
It couldn’t be real. Not her. Never her.
And it wasn’t. She’s here. I’m here. And I’m awake.
The alarm goes off on the bedside table and Ashley begins to stir. She opens her eyes and sees me staring.
“Morning?” she questions.
“You just… looked really pretty,” I lie. Well, it is true, but…
“Thanks,” Ash narrows her gaze. She’s always had a thing about being seen without her makeup. Still, she smiles. “Now, time to get up.”
A flash of cold dread flares, but I breathe. It wasn’t real. She sees me.
“You okay?”
“Bad dream. It was… awful,” I say, trying not to recall the images.
“Oh, sweetie.” She comes up from the sheets and kisses my cheek. Naked again. We do usually wear pyjamas, don’t we? “It’s alright. It was just a dream.”
“I know.”
With a creeping, inevitable momentum, we both rise, drift apart, and prepare for work. I miss my old freelance photography job, but I had to join this studio… I suddenly get déjà vu. When did I last say that?
Doesn’t matter. Off to work. The next few hours pass in a frenzy of incompetence and ego. I keep my head down and work. Andrew nearly flips his lid when I miss something he says, but I’m distracted. That broken neck…
My head is swimming. Things feel wrong. But is that just the dream. Dreams? How many times have I woken up? How many times have I actually gone to bed first?
The day crawls by and coffee soothes many worries, or at least buries them under a certain nervous tension. I skip out a few minutes early, not that it matters, I still have to catch the same train.
I get down our street, the same one I’ve lived on for years, and look over the road. The door opens, Ash comes out, red jacket and all, and sees me. She smiles and hurries over.
“Look both ways!” I cry, a little too urgently.
She stops, nods like a sullen teenager, and makes a big show of looking. There aren’t any cars, parked or otherwise. Just the empty road in a quiet suburban neighbourhood.
“You’ll be asking me to eat my greens next,” she comments as she trots over.
“Just… I don’t know. I was worried my dream was prophetic.”
“Prophetic?” She furrows her brow concernedly, but it fades. She can see it’s worrying me. She always can, even if I don’t show it. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yeah…” I say quietly. She starts guiding us to the park. It’s a little ways away, but it’s a good place. Our special place. It was where we first kissed, after all.
We find the bench and sit, old and grimy as it is now. She holds my hand and smiles. I smile back. It was just a dream. Everything is fine. She is fine. All is right with the world.
“I just… I dreamed I lost you,” I explain, knowing how silly I sound.
“Lost as in-”
“You got hit by a car.”
“Oh, brutal! Your imagination is cruel.”
“Yeah,” I helplessly agree. “But you’re here now. And I’m here. And we’re both fine.”
“Right. We’re both here. I’m safe. You’re safe. I’m healthy, and you’re…. Naked!”
I blink in confusion. She looks alarmed and confused. I look down.
I’m naked. Pink bits and skin tones that shouldn’t be exposed. I can feel the cold where there shouldn’t be cold! Ashley is staring.
“What the hell, Maya!” she stands up, offended.
“I… I don’t… I was wearing…” I sputter. No answer is complete. Was I always naked?
“God, what the hell? Do you think this is funny?”
“What? No! I…” I can’t have left the house naked, can I? I can feel myself blushing all over. The park is busy today and people are noticing.
“Did you just forget to get dressed?”
Did I? It seems pretty absent minded. But could I have done? How else could this have happened. But we’re not far from the house…
“Put on some clothes, Maya!”
“What clothes?”
What clothes? The question swirls. An idea surfaces. Stress dream. Naked stress dreams.
Dream checks. Breathing, hands… oh, who am I kidding? My clothes just vanished! I’m dreaming!
I cover myself and make a break for the edge of the park. I’m sure it wasn’t this far to get here, and my steps are strange and sluggish, like running on ice. A man tries to stop me to talk about nothing in particular and politeness almost keeps me there, in strict contrast to my embarrassment. But I run. Ash is with me, half covering me, half judging me. I can feel eyes boring into my nudity.
I make it back to the house with only a few dozen angry eyes sentencing me, and run upstairs to change. Or to get dressed, because there’s nothing to change. And Ash is tutting angrily downstairs.
But I see her photo. I move it aside. There’s the button. Stupid stress dreams! Am I even married?
I press the button.
-
I wake up in my bed. I am still naked, but so is Ash. I’m naked in a normal and acceptable fashion… which is an odd thing to think, but some lingering embarrassment follows me up from the dream.
Dreams? Plural? How many times have I woken up?
I sit up in bed, quiet as I can. The Ballad of Prince Antoine is still on the bedside. I never did get round to reading it, and it would be caked in dust if it weren’t for Ash’s dependable cleaning routine. I pick it up and flip the pages.
It’s blank. No words at all. I’m definitely dreaming.
I consider reaching for the button, but I stop. Ash is beside me, the world of my subconscious outside. Even if this has been a strange session, I can still have some fun. Manners still guide me to not wake Ash, but I head downstairs. I start getting dressed first, but this is a dream. Why bother?
I go downstairs and my house looks more like a library. I think it’s one from a show I watched once. Maybe my memories are in here. I can’t even find the door. Part of me wants to experience walking naked outside, because why not, and suddenly I’m on the street. I can imagine the cold air on my skin, with none of the embarrassment this time around. No one even notices, even as my neighbours greet me. I throw caution to the wind and run full tilt, feeling like I’m flying, bouncing along the way. And why not fly? The ground swoops beneath me. It feels like a rollercoaster, like I'm staying still and the world is moving, like I’m a camera attached to a drone. I don’t fly anywhere in particular, as aiming seems impossible, but I swoop up the street, to the train station, and back again.
I land, forcing myself down, right back on my doorstep. I step inside. Somewhere along the way I’ve apparently picked up clothes. I guess my subconscious isn’t naturally nude. Oh well.
I head in and find Ash preparing a meal. Certainly a dream. I’m the cook in our relationship. Or is it our marriage? Doubts follow that idea, I don’t know if we’re married yet, but it doesn’t matter. She looks so pretty standing there, laying out the…
Is she serving towels on a plate? They’ve got pictures of ice cream on them, but that’s not food. But this is a dream. Nevertheless, I walk up and kiss her, full on the mouth. It’s my dream, damn it, and I’ll enjoy it how I want to.
“Hi there,” she says in surprise when I let her breathe. She has to push my lips away with a  finger to keep talking. “I made dinner.”
“It’ll keep,” I say. I kiss her again. And again. If she’s my wife, and it’s my dream, then why not have some fun.
“You’re certainly excitable-” She says during a gap. My lips cut her off. She gives up trying to talk. She kisses me back. That same thrill, even all these years later.
“I’ve been wanting this all day,” I say, letting her have a moment’s break. I stare into her eyes and see her just as excited as me. I press her against the kitchen counter.
“Don’t you think your husband will mind?” she says seductively. I genuinely don’t know if she’s just roleplaying or if she’s somehow remembering Jeff.
The thought briefly curls in my mind if this is weird. Some people get strangely bitter about dream cheating, their partners having sex dreams about other people. It’s not like they can help it, but some people are weird. Ash has always found the lucid dream thing strange though. But I’m sure she won’t mind this.
Whatever the case, I’m only cheating on her with another her. It’s not a problem.
“Well?” she presses, expecting an answer.
“Don’t worry, babe. It’s not cheating if it’s not real.” I kiss her again.
She pulls back. “What?”
“Just don’t worry about it,” I try to press forward. She pulls out of range.
“What do you mean ‘not real’?”
“It’s just… this is all a dream. Nothing here’s real.”
“And what? Am I not real?” she snaps.
“Well, no. You’re a dream too.”
Ash pushes me back. She looks offended, her face twisting with disgust and anger. I try to comfort her, but she steps away. The kitchen is bigger than it was before to give her room. She rounds on me, furious, teeth gritted and very nearly snarling.
“I am real!” she commands, poking me in the chest. “How dare you say I’m not!”
“But this is all a dream,” I try to explain. A certain dreadful momentum takes hold.
“But I am real! I am real! How could you… How could you think I wasn’t real!”
She advances on me, pushing me back. Shoving me. I bump against the table, almost tripping.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“I AM REAL!” she screams, grabbing a plate and throwing it against the wall. Ceramic shards rain. She picks up and throws a chair. At me!
“I AM REAL!”
I retreat, the chair shattering on the wall behind me. We’re back in the library. She’s advancing, murder in her eyes.
“I AM REAL!” she keeps repeating, the same soundbite on a loop.
I run. I find the stairs, her horror movie pace keeping up behind me. She grabs my leg, scratching at me, clawing at my jeans. I slip free of her hands and scrabble upstairs, her cry echoing behind.
I slam the bedroom door shut and stare at the wood. Fists pound against it on the other side. The wood cracks.
“I AM REAL!”
No, you’re not. You’re not Ash. Ash would never…
I shake the thought off. I leap for the picture, throw it aside and press the button.
-
I wake up in my bed. I’m alone, I’m 25 again, I’m not married, and me and Ash are barely dating. But I’m shaking. How many times have I woken up?
I recall a book I read, as well as a Reddit thread, on the subject. Dream characters going strange when you tell them they’re not real. Never believed it myself, but there you go. Almost like they have a will of their own. A life of their own inside your head.
I perform my dream checks. Hands, ten fingers. Breathing, deeply. Ballad of Prince Antoine, still unread. I hesitate as I pick it up, but find the pages full of words, legible words, thankfully. I’m starting to worry the dream checks aren’t working. Perhaps my brain knows too well what to expect.
I shake it off and put the book down. I remember my place in the world. Day off, dating Ash, I live alone. Maybe one day married, but today… I get up and plan to head downstairs to veg on the couch.
My eyes stop on the photo. I try to discern what’s behind it from across the room. But I don’t move it. I don’t dare. I’m awake, I’m sure of it, so I head downstairs.
No morning TV, just some breakfast, cheese on toast. Just an ordinary day-
My phone rings. I answer it.
“Maya! Where are you?” I don’t recognise the voice.
“I’m home?”
“Home?! The shoot starts in ten minutes!”
I stared confusedly at the wall. My only shoot is tomorrow, on the 18th. I take my phone away from my ear as the caller rambles. He’s clearly-
-right. It’s the 18th. Crap!
“Crap! I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Hurry!”
I hang up and sprint upstairs to change. I was sure it was the 17th. Did I sleep for a whole day? I dreamt enough to have lost a day. I’m out the door in under five minutes, running for the bus stop.
It takes me 45 stressful minutes to arrive, but the client is late too. The models and the designers haven’t arrived, only the man who hired me. He’s tapping his foot irritably.
“Sorry,” I pant, having run the last ten yards. “Lost track of what day it was.”
“You’re late, and you were supposed to bring your camera. Where is it?” he snips.
In my photo studio at home, my mind’s eye shows me. I could scream.
“I’m so sorry, I left it at home. It… broke yesterday,” I try desperately to save face. “I was sure you’d have one as well.”
The client looks down his nose at me. He then wordlessly opens a cupboard and produces a camera, a cheap one, and hands it to me like he’s giving scraps to a peasant.
“And your paperwork?” he continues.
“I don’t remember you asking me for any paperwork.”
He sniffs. “The paperwork for the modelling agency. I cannot believe this,” he huffs.
I scour my brain. Paperwork, papers, anything I had to sign, anything-
“Oh!” my brain finds the file. “The nondisclosure stuff. I signed that last week.”
“Oh. Good,” he says with an edge of disappointment. Jerk.
I finally get to sit down and let my heartrate drop. I’m sweating, didn’t have time to shower, likely look a mess, and now my brain is thrumming with anxiety, searching every thought for something else I forgot. It’s like one of those accursed anxiety dreams where you’re late for class or…
No. I am awake. I know it. I do my dream checks just to be safe, and everything checks out. I try to check my phone, wanting to read the messages, before realising I forgot that too when I got changed. All I brought was my clothes and my purse and… My purse is at home too.
How did I pay for the bus? I can’t remember. I may have accidentally stolen a bus ride.
It’s going to be a long walk home.
The photoshoot goes alright. The camera isn’t great, but I’m getting paid either way. The client hates me, obviously, but I fulfil my contract. And so I hand over the camera and head into town.
And Ash’s office is nearby here. Her real estate- No. She doesn’t work in real estate. She works in… a call centre or something? I should know this. All I know is her bosses are annoying and strict.
I decide to hang out near her building, which does look like a call centre. As noon rolls around, she emerges with some coworkers and I beg her to give me a lift home. She kisses me, provoking some cooing from her coworkers, and quickly takes me home before hurrying back after her lunch break.
I lie, vegetating on the couch, trying to unpack the panic of the day. I’ve checked about five times that it actually is the 18th. I can’t remember yesterday. Then again, if I just vegged out, maybe there was nothing to remember.
Finally, my phone buzzes which means Ash is out of work. She’s waiting at the park, our special place, or at least it’s rapidly becoming so. Our bench is clean, with a couple of bits of graffiti. Perhaps I should add our names in a heart?
“You are messy,” she greets me.
“I don’t know what happened. I thought it was the 17th today.”
“Messy, is all I’m saying,” she affirms.
“Did I see you yesterday?”
She thinks to be sure. “No. I was at work all day, and then I was at my mother’s in the evening. You don’t remember?”
“I feel like I’ve lost a whole day.”
“I think you were online yesterday… Yeah, look. Instagram posts.” She holds up her phone.
There’s a selfie of me eating a bland lunch. I don’t look happy. I sort of remember that.
“Huh. Must have just bored myself senseless.”
“Then there’s a photo of you taking a nap. That might explain it, you and that daft lucid dreaming stuff..."
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with it.” I sound certain but I don’t feel certain. Not anymore.
“Just don’t do it when we start sharing a bed. Creeps me out.”
“Sharing a bed, hey?”
Ash rolls her eyes. “Soon, I mean it. I don’t want to rush things. And my room’s a mess with all that decorating.”
“My room’s closer.”
“Sure, but I’d like to be able to see the floor, not just a layer of abandoned clothes. Messy,” she repeats.
“I’ve tidied up.”
“No you have not!”
“I have. Seriously. There’s only a few socks currently.”
“My hero…” She trails off, looking over my shoulder.
“They’re only from the past few days too.”
“Yeah,” she says distractedly. “Is that guy watching us?”
I turn. Near a tree is a man in a trench coat. Rarely a good sign.
“It’s not your stalker ex, is it?” she murmurs.
“Don’t think so. I hope it’s not a flasher. How long’s he been there?”
“A few minutes. I think we should go.”
I silently agree and we start walking. And so does he.
We walk faster, deciding to take the longer road home. It’s longer, but it’s also far more public. But unfortunately quiet today. The man is still following. His hand is in his pocket. His eyes won’t leave us. Our walk becomes a light jog, and his following becomes a chase. We round a corner back onto our street and break into a run. He starts pursuing. His hand comes out of his pocket. He’s got a butcher’s knife.
“Ash, run!”
We run. We reach the door and slam it shut behind us, locking it. He hits the door on the other side, knife through the frosted glass. He stabs and carves the glass, mad eyes staring through the gaps.
I try to think of weapons. Ash is already on the phone to the police. The lunatic gets his arm through a gap in the glass, scratching up his own arm in the process.
And we’ve left the keys in the lock.
He turns them and throws the door wide. I drag Ash to the stairs. The bedroom door has a lock and a window we can jump out of as a last resort. I push Ash ahead, and the knife goes into the wall by my leg. I spin and land a heel on his chin. Part of his face comes away like a mask. I resume running as he reaffixes it.
In, slam the bedroom door, click the lock. It’s wood and won’t hold against a madman for long. Ash is crying, desperate and terrified, still on the phone to the cops. I’m searching my room for weapons. Anything! Why do I not have anything!
Wood creaks as the man slams against it. I decide to get creative. I pull out some drawers, empty them, and raise the wooden box as the only weapon I’ve got. Ash picks up a folding chair, a bit unwieldy in my small room.
The door creaks and cracks. Even now, the photo on the wall nags at me. Maybe it’s-
The door gives way! The man surges in, knife raised, and Ash throws her chair. It barely clips him, but that’s still a full force clip to the head. He falls, mask shifting. He rises, or possibly she, there’s a certain curve to the hips, dizzy and swaying, as the mask falls off completely. And the face…
“I AM REAL!” Ash’s face emerges from the mask, screaming, knife still in her hand.
My Ash looks at herself in strange terror, and I stare at both of them. The intruder Ash lunges, but my Ash fights her, wrestling herself, begging for help. I slam the drawer into the Nightmare Ash’s back and she crumples, but she rises back quickly, still screaming. I need to save my Ash. The real Ash.
But does it matter?
I stare at Ash, my Ash, the real Ash. She has to be the real Ash. But am I real? Am I awake? Ash stares at me with pleading eyes… But the photo… This can’t be real. I turn and I lunge for it.
I press the button.
-
I wake up in my bed.
This is bullshit! I get up and scream at the ceiling. That was real, I was sure that was real! What the fuck is going on!
No waiting this time. I throw the photo aside and there it is. The button. I’m still fucking dreaming!
I press it.
-
I wake up in my bed. Fucking hell!
I move the photo. I see the button.
I press it.
-
I wake up in my bed.
I move the photo. I see the FUCKING button.
I press it.
-
I wake up in my bed.
I move the photo. I-
The wall is blank. No sticker, no button, no nothing.
I… I don’t know what this means.
I press the wall, just in case, but nothing happens. I have to still be dreaming, right, because there should be a sticker there? Did I remove it?
I decide to get up and head downstairs. This time the dream isn’t even pretending. The dog and my Mum are back in the kitchen, Jeff is watching TV, and there are clocks and eyes everywhere telling me I’m late. There are also photos of Ash on every wall, the same photo, again and again. I move one just to check. There’s an eye behind it. I move another. There’s another photo behind it. I move a third. A red sticker. I briefly feel excited, before realising it's not a button. Just a sticker.
I decide to head out.
I step out onto my childhood street, which shouldn’t be here, but I can still see the property Real-Estate Ash sold across the road. There’s even a couple of ambulance men tending to nothing in particular. I start to worry that I’ve broken my brain or something.
I walk up and, of course, the park appears around the bend. And there’s Ash, an Ash anyway, I have no idea which one. But any Ash is good… as long as it’s not the nightmare one. Or the dead one. I shake off that memory and sit beside her.
“I know we’ve known each other a long time, but I can’t keep pretending. Things are different now. You know, after that party a few weeks ago… when we almost…”
“Oh… It’s this memory.”
“I’m saying… I really did want to, that night, and it wasn’t just the beer talking. I wanted to kiss you. I… like you, Maya. Like, a lot. I really like you.”
“I really like you two, Ash. I love you. But I’m supposed to set you up to say-”
“Yes!” she exclaims, punching me in the arm. “Oh my god, as if it weren’t obvious. I’ve been staring at you ever since.”
“You were so obvious about it too.”
“And you’ve been freaking flirting with me-
“I was not subtle either.”
“Just… I didn’t want to ruin what we have. You’re my best friend, May.”
“You too. God, does it make me a bad friend the amount of times I’ve dreamt about us sleeping together?”
“More intimate?”
“I keep dreaming about you. It’s no coincidence we keep ending up naked in my subconscious.”
Ashley’s eyes widen. I’m barely tracking her side of the conversation anymore.
“I’d… I’d like that.”
“You’re so beautiful, Ash. And brilliant. And-”
“Kiss me. Right now.”
Her hand grabs my chin, spins my head, and her ruby painted lips plant against my beige ones. Softness, gentleness, a thrill like lightning down my spine.
And then she pulls away. Her phone buzzes. I really do still curse that phone sometimes. She leaves.
And then she’s back beside me.
“I know we’ve known each other a long time-”
This is odd. Definitely odd. I look around while Ash keeps talking, rambling as if nothing is wrong. I examine the park surrounding us to see if anything else is going on.
“Yes!” she exclaims, punching me in the arm. I briefly return my focus to her before going back to my search.
What the hell is going on?
“More intimate?”
I look over and spy something. It looks like a spot, hanging in the air. A red circle.
“I’d… I’d like that.”
Is that…?
“Kiss me. Right now.”
She grabs my chin, spins my head, and her ruby painted lips plant against my beige ones. I am briefly distracted from what seemed to be a floating button.
And then she pulls away. Her phone buzzes. She leaves.
And then she’s back beside me.
“I know we’ve known each other a long time-”
I get up and walk over to the button. There it is, floating in midair, sticking out of a patch of my bedroom wall. There’s no wall around it, just a square floating at about head height. I look back at Ash, chatting away to the air on the bench.
“Yes!” she exclaims, punching nothing.
I press the button.
-
I wake up… I’m back on the bench.
“I know we’ve known each other a long time-”
I look around. There’s the button again. I sprint and press it.
-
I wake… and I’m back on the bench. Shit!
“I know we’ve known each other a long time-”
I stand and run over to the button. Why isn’t this working?! It’s always worked before… before today anyway. It’s always been… my exit.
The button is blank. It should say Exit in neat little white letters. I can’t remember if it was blank in the other dreams. I don’t remember noticing, but I also wasn’t really paying attention. Maybe that’s what went wrong. The text is gone. It isn’t an exit anymore.
“Just… I didn’t want to ruin what we have. You’re my best friend, May.”
But that’s what I need now. I need an exit. I need to get out. I need… A pen. I think and think and… Ash always carries one.
I hurry over, even as Ash keeps talking.
“I’d… I’d like that.”
She reaches forwards and kisses the air, as I root through her pockets. And there it is. A pen. I run back to the button as she starts again.
“I know we’ve known each other a long time-”
I take off the pen cap and, carefully to avoid pressing it, write the word Exit on the button. It’s crude, but it’s dream logic. It just might work. With a final pen stroke, I press it.
-
I wake up in my bed. I roll over and immediately throw the photo aside and…
A red sticker.
I gasp with desperate relief. I flop back onto my bed. At last! I grab my phone and check the date, just to be sure. It’s the 17th, I’m not late for anything, and I am awake!
…at least I hope I’m awake.
I dismiss that thought. All the dream checks check out. I’m awake. I’m sure of it… but I was sure of it a few dreams ago too. I pinch myself, hard, and it hurts. At least I think it does. Would you actually know in a dream?
I shake off that thought. I might be going mad, I’m sure of that. All these dreams are driving me mad. I need to get away from sleeping. I get out of bed and go have breakfast. Cheese on toast. It’s all I’ve got in.
Around noon, I get a text.
Power outage at work. They sent us all home. Meet you in the park?
I’m up and properly dressed soon enough, heading out. It’s cold, so I’m wearing a scarf and a jacket. And Ash is waiting for me with two coffees and a big smile.
“You look great,” I say. It’s her usual outfit, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.
“And you look… Actually, you look awful. What’s up?” She offers a coffee.
I drink it, hot and strong. And it’ll keep me awake, which is a plus.
“I think I had the worst night’s sleep ever,” I explain.
“How so?”
“I just kept waking up. Like, dreaming that I was waking up. Again and again and again. Levels upon levels of dreams and nightmares. And… you were there. All the time.”
“Me? In a good way?” She sips her coffee.
“Sometimes, yes. We were always together,” I reassure her. “In some of them we were even married.”
“Really?” she says cheerfully. “Didn’t know you were the commitment sort.”
“I’ve made that mistake before,” I chuckle. “But this dream was nuts. I just kept waking up again and again and… sometimes things happened to you. And sometimes I just realised I was dreaming and had to wake up. But I couldn’t. It was messed up.”
She leans against me, head on my shoulder. “I’ve warned you about that lucid dreaming stuff. Messes with your head. Lose your grip on reality.”
I smile. “One of your other selves said that too.”
“Well, listen to her. Sleep is just for your brain to process things. Leave it well enough alone.”
“Maybe. Maybe there’s a way to unlearn it.”
“You’d better hope so. You’re not doing your dream walking when we share a bed.”
“Your other self said that too.”
“Oh? And what did you say?”
“I pointed out the allusion to us sharing a bed… and then she said she wouldn’t stay around mine because of the dirty floors.”
“A woman after my own heart.”
“I have tidied up though!”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“And when will you see it?”
She turns her head and quirks an eyebrow. “Are you asking?”
I go to answer. I want to say yes, oh do I want to say yes, but even so… “Maybe not tonight. Let me get my head together.”
She sits up. “That dream really messed you up?”
“Dreams. I lost track of how many.”
She looks worried. She wears her heart on her sleeves. “Maybe we can just go back to yours and watch some TV. Get your mind off it all.”
“Yeah, that sounds-” I pause. Ash is looking over my shoulder. Fixedly.
A terrible sense of déjà vu creeps over me.
“Is that guy watching us, May? It’s not your creepy ex, is it?”
I turn around. A man in a trench coat. I stand and drag Ash away from the bench. “We should go.”
The man follows. But not running. And it isn’t a man.
“What’s your problem?!” Ash stops to confront them. They’ve got a hood up but they’re definitely a woman. And that coat. I think I knew someone who owned a trench like that.
“What are you two doing?” the voyeur asks. Her voice is familiar.
“I’m sorry, do we need permission to sit on a bench?” Ash challenges. Her voice is the same.
“Perhaps, if you’re sitting with my wife.” The hood comes down.
Oh no.
Ash appears beneath the hood. Older, slightly, and hand adorned with a wedding ring. Girlfriend Ash doesn’t seem to notice. She’s just affronted by the accusation.
“Wife! She’s my girlfriend, lady. I don’t know what asylum you escaped from, but-”
“Maya?” another voice joins. “Who are these women?”
Both Ashes turn. Another Ash is running into the park. She’s wearing the same outfit from the day we first kissed.
“I…” I can’t even answer. The two other Ashes both huff.
“Stay away from my girlfriend!/wife!” they say in unison.
“Girlfriend?” First Kiss Ash turns her eyes on me. She looks hurt. “You have a girlfriend?”
“No!” I frantically explain. “It’s not like that.” That just angers the others.
“Oh, and what am I?” Wife Ash demands.
“Are you just picking up floozies?” Girlfriend Ash concurs.
First Kiss Ash comes up and pokes me in the chest. “Then who are they?”
My brain is spinning. My mouth flaps soundlessly. First Kiss Ash rounds on the other two.
The resultant argument is lost on me. Three voices, all identical, all seemingly unaware that they’re the same person. But I’m still dreaming. I have to be. There’s no way this is real!
“Maya?” another voice joins the conversation.
“Oh no…”
There’s another Ash with tears streaming down her face. “How… how did you get away from that lunatic?”
“I…”
“And who are they?” Without a word, she joins the growing argument.
“Maya?”
Another Ash and this one… This one is naked. Or as naked as my imagination can create. She’s like a Barbie doll, smooth areas, all the same shade of brown. She sees the crowd and sprints into it, creating a ripple of distress from the others.
Another few Ashes sprint into the park, Real Estate Ash, Nightmare Ash, all joining the gathering throng. I step away, my brain screaming, unable to cope. I can even see the Ash in the crowd who keeps looping!
And then someone throws a punch.
The argument clearly hits a critical mass, as Wife Ash punches First Kiss Ash and Girlfriend Ash gets someone in a headlock. Shouting, screaming, there’s even some biting. It turns into a mass of flailing limbs, bruises, fists, all merging into one. Merging and melting.
A hand hits a chest and sinks into it like melting plastic. An Ash in a headlock winds up merging with the arm locking her. One Ash goes to headbutt another and winds up combining their foreheads into a hideous mass. They keep fighting, seemingly unaware, morphing into a morass of flesh and clothes. Skin sluices between them, bones and ribs protruding where skin moves away. Strands of muscle combine and intertwine.
I watch in morbid terror as the thing takes some sort of shape.
An amalgam of legs, legs made out of smaller legs, keep it aloft. The torso is vaguely humanoid, but about ten times larger, with ribs and random clothes jutting through the skin. There are nine arms, two made up of smaller arms like the legs. And there are five heads, each twitching out of the lumpen shoulders, Wife Ash, Tearful Ash, and three others that just look identical. Two of them are speaking.
“I AM REAL!”
“I know we’ve known each other a long time-”
The central one twitches and looks down. It’s eyes are missing, lost somewhere in the mass of organic horror.
“Maya? Who are these women?” it says with a mouth full of tongues.
My heart is pounding. My skin’s cold as ice. I’m aware that I should be vomiting, I feel like I should be, if I were conscious. But I’m not. I’ve got no stomach to vomit with!
“Kiss me. Right now,” it says. It reaches for me.
I try to run but it’s too fast. A massive limb with far too many fingers grabs my wrist, pulling me in. Into its arm! Ash’s flesh melts around my wrist, my arm dissolving into it. I fall back, flailing, trying to wrench myself free. My other hand grabs something hard. I bring the rock round like a hammer and smash both our wrists.
Hers explodes like molten clay, splattering over the ground. I feel nothing, but it looks like I’ve shattered my bones. But it doesn’t matter. I get up and run. Vast, squelching footsteps follow, a cacophony of voices echoing after me.
“-it wasn’t just the beer talking.”
“I AM REAL!”
I run and reach the road. There are ambulance men. A new Ash hobbles over the sidewalk, neck and head dangling, blood and bones protruding. I ignore it and run.
I hit my front door and launch myself inside. I stop briefly on the stairs, morbid curiosity wondering what it will do. An arm of arms smashes in and then melts, flowing across the floor after me. I abandon my curiosity and slam my bedroom door. The mass hits the other side. There are faces at my window.
“WAKE UP, MAYA!” the heads scream.
I throw the photo aside. There’s the button.
The words “Wake Up!” are carved into the plastic in white lettering.
I hit the button.
-
I wake up in my bed. I sit up and scream.
I’m alone. I’m 25, I think. I throw the photo aside and see a sticker, but that’s no comfort anymore. I run to the window and look out and it’s the street I’m expecting to see. But doesn’t that just sum it up. It’s what I’m expecting to see.
Even as futile as they seem, I perform my dream checks. Prince Antoine, the right number of hands and fingers, definitely breathing, I’m panting for breath actually. I head downstairs.
Everything is normal. No Mum, no dog, no Jeff. No library of memories, no Ash making me a dinner of towels. Just… my house. I check my phone and it’s the 17th. I check my calendar and my only job is tomorrow. My finger hovers over the button to text Ash, but I don’t know if I can handle that right now.
The image of flesh flowing up the stairs behind me… Oh god! My stomach turns.
I run to the bathroom and throw my head into the toilet bowl. My stomach wrenches, not that it has much to throw up. I wind up dry heaving into the porcelain.
I couldn’t vomit in the last dream. Is that a good sign?
Finally, my stomach settles. Barely. I’m sat on the tiled floor, ready for anything to set me off again. Maybe I have a fever or something. That would explain the hellish dreams. I check my forehead, but I don’t think I’m running a temperature. Did I eat anything that would have upset my stomach last night?
Cheese on toast for dinner… and lunch. I really need to go shopping. Was it just a fucking cheese dream?
I get up and cautiously migrate to the couch, weighing up if I’m going to need a bowl or anything. My stomach is settling, but I still try to avoid thinking about… that.
The TV distracts me. I remember Ash advising it in the last dream, but I stop thinking about that, quite by force. I smack myself gently in the temple to distract myself. And it hurts, I think. Is that a good sign?
Noon comes around and there’s no text about a power outage. Another good sign? The day crawls by, me unable to do anything. My sickness stopped hours ago, but the thoughts are unrelenting. Prising apart the dreams, like peeling layers off a horrid Pass the Parcel. How many times did I wake up? How many times did I kiss her? How many times did she die?
What does it all mean?
Finally, five o’clock rolls around. I haven’t eaten all day, but I don’t want to. Ash texts me and asks if I want to meet at the park. I say I’m not feeling well.
A short while later, there’s a knock at the door. I get up to answer it.
“I brought soup?” Ash offers, bargaining to gain entry.
I smile. Despite everything, I smile. She’s amazing.
“What kind?” I ask as I let her in.
“Chicken, of course. That’s what you give sick people. What’s wrong anyway? You look dreadful.”
“Not sure,” I answer, fairly honestly. “Terrible night’s sleep. Just… nightmares.”
“Oh no!” She joins me on the couch. “Have you eaten today?”
I shake my head. She smiles sadly. I remember that smile melting off a dreadful face.
“Tell you what, I’ll heat this soup up, we can get some food in you, and we’ll spend the evening watching movies. Whichever ones you want. Even the scary ones,” she says with a hint of trepidation.
“I… couldn’t handle those tonight,” I reassure her. “I’m so tired, but I do not want to sleep.”
“Then let’s do something else. I’ll go and get your blanket and we can snuggle up on the couch. But first, soup.”
Ash hurries off to the kitchen to throw the soup into the microwave, and as it turns, heads upstairs to retrieve the blanket. I am soon huddled in the warm duvet, and Ash returns with two bowls and something tucked under her arm. She puts the item to one side while we eat, watching some bland noisome television, but the soup is good. Warm and restorative. It’s dark outside now and she is cuddled up beside me. And I am at home. Happy. Warm. Fed. In love. With her. And it’s almost been a whole day. I still don’t want to sleep, but maybe if she were beside me...
"Did you want to watch a movie?" Ash asks, her head on my shoulder.
I consider it, but no. “Not right now. But we should see what else is on. I’ve seen this episode a hundred times.”
“I was thinking,” she says in a leading way, “I did loan you that book ages ago. Have you read it yet?”
“The Ballad of Prince Antoine?” I say. My stomach tightens.
“Why don’t you read it to me? It’s almost poetry and that could be quite… romantic.”
She retrieves the book from where she tucked it away, dropping it in my lap. My heart skips.
“I don’t know. I just don’t know if its my sort of thing.”
She tugs at my arm. “How will you know if you don’t read it? And besides, it’s always good to broaden one’s horizons.
“Are you sure you couldn’t read it to me?” I dodge.
She narrows her eyes. She can always see my nerves. She leans in and kisses me on the cheek.
“It’ll be fine, Maya. Just read it. If you’re not enjoying it, we’ll stop.”
I stop and breathe. I feel nauseous again. And then I wonder what she’s thinking, me, scared of a book. I’m a professional photographer, I shouldn’t be scared to read aloud to my girlfriend.
“Alright,” I sigh. I crack the spine. I open the first page.
“The Ballad of Prince Antoine, by Simon Morpheus. Published by-”
“I think you can skip that bit.”
I nod. I turn the page. “Chapter One. Once upon a time, there was a very handsome man. His name was Prince Antoine.” I pause to look at her. “Do you really think I’ll enjoy this?”
“It gets better in a minute.” She snuggles closer.
I roll my eyes. “Prince Antoine was a kind and wonderful man, whose father ruled the kingdom kindly and fairly. But one day, a sorcerer arrived in the land, a man of wicked intent and dark magic- Are you serious about liking this book?” I interrupt.
“It was my favourite book as a kid,” she pouts. “Didn’t I tell you it was a kid’s book?”
“No, you didn’t. I was expecting a… classical romance or something.”
“Do you like classical romances?”
“No, it would have bored me to tears. But you seemed interested in it, so…”
“That’s sweet,” she snuggles in again. “Come on, keep reading. And poke me if I nod off.”
“Will do.” I clear my throat. “-wicked intent and dark magic. He walked up to the castle gates and demanded ‘Wake up the king. Wake up King Maya so I may speak with... King Maya?” I ask.
“It’s part of why I wanted you to read it,” she shrugs.
“Odd name for a king.” I clear my throat again. “‘Wake up King Maya so I may speak with him.’ ‘Nay,’ said the guards, and with a wave of his hand the wizard turned them into frogs. Ha! I’m liking this guy already.”
“My dad always used to boo when he read the evil wizard’s bits.”
“I can see why. Anyway- Next he approached the guards at the castle door. ‘Awaken King Maya’ he demanded. ‘Wake up Maya now!’ But the guards asked why? He would not answer, and turned them into newts. Huh. Guys working his way through the amphibians.”
“He does an axolotl next.”
“Seriously? Seems advanced for a kid’s book?”
“Read on and find out.”
I look doubtful but read on. “Ahem… He then approached the guards within. ‘Wake up, Maya! Wake them up now!’ but the guards brandished their arms and were turned into mice. Finally, Prince Antoine arrived, facing the villain. ‘What do you want?’ the prince demanded. ‘Wake up, Maya!’ the wizard roared.
I turn the page.
WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA WAKE UP MAYA-
I leap from the blankets. I scream. I throw the book into the mirror over the mantle as Ash looks on in terrified confusion.
I wake up in my bed, slow and sluggish, eyes blurry and sleepy. That’s until the adrenaline hits. I bolt upright, heart racing, very nearly sweating and-
“Maya? What’s wrong?” Ash bolts upright beside me, gripping the blanket to her bosom. She turns on the bedside light.
“I had… a terrible dream,” I gasp and… this is my room, but it seems different.
“What kind of dream?”
“It was…” I look around. Dream checks, I reach for Prince Antoine and… It’s not there.
“Are you alright?”
The room is different. I never had a bedside light, for one thing. And we’re in bed together.
“This might be a mad question,” I hazard, “but are we married?”
She stares at me. She stares longer. She realises I’m not joking and shakes her head.
“No, we’re not. You’re just my girlfriend.”
“So we are a couple?”
“Well, we moved in together three months ago, and we had sex last night, so I’d hope we were some kind of couple, Maya,” she says sarcastically. “You’re definitely my girlfriend, Maya, but no, we’re not married. Not yet anyway. Are you sure you’re alright?”
I stare. This one’s different. “Sorry. It’s just… in my dream we were married.”
“Really? Didn’t know you were the sort,” she says somewhat happily. “Well, we’re not married yet. Not unless you’re planning on getting down on one knee right this second.” She looks at me and her brow creases with worry. “Seriously, May, are you alright?” She cups my cheek.
“It was just… just a really messed up dream.”
“A messed up dream where we’re married?” she checks. “I hope you’re not getting cold feet about living together.”
“What?”
“Commitment issues. I wouldn’t be shocked. I mean, I know how your past relationships ended.”
“Hey! Those were not my fault. I did not force Tabitha into that strippers underwear! Or Sarah to break into my house!”
Ash raises her hands in surrender. She gets up and throws on a bathrobe. She looks back at me, as I’m staring at the wall.
“May? You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”
I look up at her. Gorgeous, wonderful her. This one feels different. Maybe finally…
“It was just a dream,” I reassure her. She nods in vague acceptance.
“You know what it is? It’s that lucid dreaming stuff you do,” she concludes. “Making you lose touch with reality.”
I nod. I can’t say she’s wrong.
“Maybe you should consider seeing a doctor about it. A dream therapist or something. Get your head right.” She breathes and shakes her head. “Anyway, we’re up now, and it’s a few hours before work. I’m going to go make some coffee. You want some?”
“I’ll be down in a minute.”
I breathe at the edge of the bed. I count my fingers. I find a book and read it. I pinch my hand hard, and it hurts. It really hurts. But did it hurt last time?
I can hear Ash downstairs. This one feels different. Actually awake. I feel tired.
And this is a good life, right? Memory comes trickling back from sleep and tells me I’m right. Living with my girlfriend, my love. This is a great life.
And much better than what could come next.
But I am awake. I know it. This one feels different and my pinches hurt. And Ash is waiting downstairs.
But even so, I stare.
I stare at the photo, hanging on the wall. The photo of Ash.
And I try and spot what could be behind it.
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justkarama · 1 year ago
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Okay so how exactly do I start this umm this is my first official RWDE post like ever that isn't a reblog off another post so bear with me I am going to be tagging people I follow because I want to hear their thoughts and open a dialogue @kitkatopinions @itsclydebitches @ironwoodprotectionsquad @rwbyconversations @rosekushina @bad-food-sells-burgers @rwde-chibi @dragynkeep
First and foremost I've had no interest in volume 9 I don't know why but I was more invested in volume 7 then v9 I thought volume 7 first to second half was mid and boring. From what I've heard volume 9 is poorly written after seeing criticism for it and watching the episodes yeah I can see why the majority of the volume feels like filler
Personal feelings aside I have a question why was Weiss Blake and Yang and jaune in this volume legitimately why were they there one of the writers I believe Eddie talked about how this volume was about failure and self acceptance basically this is supposed to be Ruby volume the one where she finally develops for the longest time Ruby always felt underdeveloped .
So wouldn't make more sense if this volume only had Ruby fall in the ever after let this be a character study of Ruby centering her as the main protagonist for this volume
Weiss Blake Yang and jaune all had character arcs Weiss learning to break away from her father Blake learning running from your problems doesn't help Yang learning to get her spark back all happened in volume, 4
Jaune learned to grieve phyrra death for three volumes
Ruby never had a character arc so for a volume that should be about failure Ruby should be the only one there narrative wants you to believe Ruby feels underwhelmed by the responsibilities of others the one to always come up with the plans Ruby has always been the one with the most moral compass out everyone what if Ruby question her morality questioned if she was right or wrong questioned if ironwood was right dealing with the fall of beacon not just atlas
In my volume 9 rewrite ( more like a rough outline) Ruby fall through the void with neo
Now why neo well volume 9 neo doesn't feel like a character in fact neo in general doesn't feel like a character neo is only popular because of her design semblance and fighting style. V9 neo is a plot device so Ruby can unlive herself neo wanting revenge for Roman is never explored because the show never explored either of their characters why does neo feel so strong for Roman all of these questions are answered in a book that is never truly addressed in the show in my v9 rewrite
Neo is told by Ruby herself she didn't kill romen I always found it odd how neo was so quick to believe cinder like cinder is more likely to kill romen then Ruby ever could
.the two are forced to work together to put aside their differences to help each other out
.I also toyed with the idea of neo and Ruby sort of leaning on each other in a sense that they learned to be more open with each other and sort of learning to cope with one another
I would also introduce Alex and Louise changed their stories to my knowledge of the volume it never explains how the twins ended up in the ever after I would have it to where tht twins were being evacuated and because of cinder the siblings fall into the void
I would also provide proper characterization of the twins Louis is a silver eyed who was being forced to become a huntsmen by his father who's also a silver eyed warrior Louis was a prodigy and natural gifted he is considered to be a model student and son
But Louis never wanted to be a huntsman he doesn't like fighting I like the idea that he always wanted to be a make-up artist but his father saw it as too feminine Louis from an early age had toxic masculinity placed on him
Alex wasn't a silver eyed warrior she was more like a tomboy and liked to do boy things but since they grew up in Atlas that was seen as weird and unladylike she wasn't considered talented at all and her father never really bonded with her favouring Alex
.I like to think Alex resented Louis for being the favorite I also imagine that she was to be married off to a wealthy family basically Alex was kinda like Weiss but worse she had no real freedom
The twins meet Ruby and neo I imagine that Louis and Ruby feel a connection as silver eyed warriors
I would also change the jabberwalker to be the main antagonist with intelligence manipulating the cat to do its dirty work befriending the group picking them apart starting with Alex who i feel wouldn't want to leave the ever after because of the freedom it grants her
So yeah this is my sorta rewrite of volume 9 it's a rough outline but I am interested in seeing how others feel about this or how they would rewrite volume 9
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multishipperbish · 10 months ago
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official fuckass fic intro post
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hello :3 i'm sure you've noticed by now my posting a few screenshots of story here and there!! well now i'm gonna talk about the fic before my brain explodes
This fic is a What If fic following Ralph as he tries to navigate his way through Britain in the 1950s (historical accuracy is the bane of my existence) after the island shenanigans. ( it's supposed to be a Jalph slowburn but the romance is not romancing. having fun though!! special shoutout to Samneric and Roger for fucking around and making it really hard for Ralph and Jack to like each other. )
I started this fic two years ago after I first read LOTF. slow day at work. I've had to take breaks every now and then but it's going strong, currently standing at 42K words and 33 chapters (each 1-2K words) (longest fic i've ever written)
I'm super excited to post it fully when I inevitably do! but I'll probably only post it once I'm 100% done because otherwise I'm going to have anxiety about updating. so watch out
I'm tagging it as fuckass fic because the actual title is too long to be a proper usable tag (song lyric) and I don't like acronyms very much. I'm hoping people enjoy my writing and are willing to stick with me while I tease the relationships I can't write properly and the little guys I enjoy torturing :3
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thelostrainbowthenovel · 3 months ago
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*I may have snapped or something because this is now officially the longest(at 6.7k words) short story I've ever written before lol*
Buuut yeah, this is a short story I've been working on for most of this month so far, focusing on Damini, Apollo, and Nate~ ^w^
I wanted to write something featuring Apollo after introducing him a few months ago, with this story exploring both his relationship with Mini a little bit and his friendship with Nate. Like I've mentioned previously, a big idea I've considered was having Nate have some of his own lgbtq+ friends in his kingdom, since he doesn't really have anyone else he can talk to about that part of his life(aside from his sister, but she doesn't know much yet). So, this story largely focuses on him coming out to them, and them all being a refreshing friend group dynamic than what Nate is used to.
I know this story got pretty long, but there's a lot of details I could have added that I decided to just leave as implied. But, there is still a lot of details I also wanted to make reference to with this one! :D Some of the main ones being Damini's pet snake, the fact she's not Feorian(as she's actually Melorian), her and Apollo's sexualities, Apollo's dating history and music career(and advocacy), Nate and Brooke doing clothing/jewelry swaps to feel closer together when they can't be physically(as well as them painting a heart of the other's color on their nails), and some more I might be forgetting, but those are all of the main ones!
Also, there are two small easter eggs/references in this story too! One of them is a song, the other is a video game reference, and if you can get one or both you'll get a special prize! :3
I think that's probably it for now, but I hope you enjoy reading~! <3
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jpitha · 2 years ago
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Hey all,
I'm wrapping up JALF now (I'm a few posts ahead of where y'all are.) and thinking about what happens next. JALF is officially the longest thing I've ever written, and that's pretty cool!
All this is to say that I don't know what my posting schedule is going to be once JALF is done. I'll probably take time to compile and edit the manuscript and then go from there.
I've also been looking back on HD and am going to undertake a major rewrite. I don't know if I'll post the rewrite or not (let me know) but the gist is I'm probably going to pull the whole Alia Colony Ship story line from the story and replace it with more Nilan and Ta'reni. I think I had too many POVs in HD and want to cut it back to make the story clearer.
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caramelcoffeeaddict · 1 year ago
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Weekend WIP - Ask Game
Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).
I was tagged by @bitbybitwrites. thank you for tagging me!! I don't post fics until they are complete, so unless I've mentioned the story on my blog, some of these answers are not going to make sense to anyone but me, LOL. also, I try to only work on one WIP at a time, but I do have a few partially started/outlined stories sitting in my drafts folder on my hard drive, and I guess they are technically WIPs even if I'm not actively working on them, so here goes nothing...
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1. WIP List:
Andy Hummel's Last Will And Testament
Breaking Stereotypes
I Taste The Truth
You And Me And The Beat
The Escape Plan
2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?:
Breaking Stereotypes is currently just over 55k words, so definitely that one ;)
3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?:
Probably Breaking Stereotypes?
4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?:
Currently, I'm only focusing on Breaking Stereotypes, and I'm really looking forward to finishing it and getting it published.
5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?:
I Taste The Truth is a pretty intimidating story to write. Which probably explains why I haven't even looked at in a few years. why? because it involves a lot of world building since Kurt is part-Fae in that fic, and I want to make sure I can explain things properly without info-dumping, but also make sure that I'm not leaving out important info that lives in my head but a reader might need extra context for.
6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?:
again, I Taste The Truth. for all the same reasons that I explained above.
7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?:
none of them? I've only ever had a beta read a fic if the story was written for a challenge where a beta was a requirement of the challenge.
8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?:
all of them!! that's why their WIPs, LOL. Breaking Stereotypes was fic I started in 2017. I think I put it on official hiatus in 2019, and have only really done minor edits here-and-there until this year when I finally figured out what direction to take the story.
9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?"
as of right now, Breaking Stereotypes is the only story with an OC. Her name is Candice. She is the manager of Blaine's band as well as Trent's girlfriend (Trent is bi in my fic). She's a smart and snarky, and she takes her job very seriously.
10. Which WIP is the sexiest?:
I don't have a lot written for it yet, but my guess is that You And Me And The Beat will be the sexiest ;)
11. Which WIP is the angstiest?:
I honestly don't know. Andy Hummel's Last Will And Testament, maybe?
12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?:
all of them? again, I don't know. I think my characterization is about equal across all my stories? I could be wrong though.
13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?:
You And Me And The Beat? maybe?
14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?:
Definitely Breaking Stereotypes.
15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?:
I don't put expectations on my fics. not the way this question implies anyway. the only expectations I have are things like "I expect this to have 20 chapters" or "I expect this to be around 20k words" or "I expect to complete this story by next week". I don't expect anything else from them. I really am that annoying person that writes stories strictly for my own enjoyment because these stories are in my head and I want to get them on paper so I can read them. even though I complain about it, the creative process of bringing these stories to life is the best part of writing fic. I just share the completed stories with the fandom for fun, because I figure there might be other people out there that will enjoy it as much as me. if not, no worries. it made me happy, and that's all that matters.
16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?:
daydream? yes. I think about all of them often. usually just the one that is my main focus of the moment, but sometimes one of the others likes to remind me it still exists, and tries to command my attention ;) however, I don't usually have dreams about my WIPs. (I have occasionally gotten an idea for a story/WIP because of a dream though)
17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?:
I Taste The Truth has that element of including Fae attributes and otherworldly components, which makes it different from my other WIP stories.
18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?:
The Escape Plan is a fun and silly fic.
19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?:
nope. sorry.
20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.:
I honestly can't remember what I have or have not shared about each of these fics, so I don't know what you don't know. but if you have questions you can always feel free to send me an ask! I love talking about my fics with people.
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