#from mari she was probably pissed when she woke up on a tree

[unmaskedagain]

Oh Lady Luck (How I miss you so!)

Okay; first off. I hated this. I had a massive case of writer’s block while doing it and lost inspiration near the end.

Oh Lady Luck (How I miss you so!)

           Bustier’s class was the luckiest in school, everyone knew it. They got to go on the most amazing trips, win contest after contest, competition after competition, met all sorts of celebrities, frequently got to meet Ladybug, through the best dances and school plays, and always seemed to have a pep in their step. Anything any of the students went after they always managed to get. Everyone knew Bustier’s class was the luckiest in school. Then one day that changed dramatically.

“You’ve changed,” Alya accused Marinette after the class voted her out as Class president. “You become a bully.”

           Alix snorted, “More like a jealous bitch.”

           There were nods from the other students in class. Lila smiled at Marinette; happy that her promise to ruin the girl was coming true.

“You’re always so mean to Lila,” Rose added. “It’s not nice.”

“You’re worse than Chloe now,” Kim glared.

           Juleka frowned, “We miss the old Marinette.”

“You should’ve chilled out like I told you to, dudette,” Nino said with a shake of his head, clearly disappointed.

“We can’t be your friends anymore,” Alya crossed her arms.

           Marinette had listen to them quietly as they relayed reason after reason why they were ending their friendships with her; all to do with Lila. She didn’t bother to look at Adrien. He had warned her what was going to happen; Nino had told him. There had also been a group text apparently. Adrien made it clear he stood with Marinette. Even more so, when he chose to sit with her in the back of the class, a fierce glare on his face at the other students.

The bluenette placed down her pencil, closed her sketchbook and said, “Fine. Then we’re not friends anymore.”

“That’s counts double for me,” Adrien hissed. “Lose my number. In fact, don’t bother; I’ll just change it. That goes for every last one of you. I’ll be informing my Father and Nathalie that only Chloe and Marinette are on my visitors list.”

           The class blinked in shock. Not expecting that reaction from the blond boy who was usually so amicable and nice.

           Chloe watched with amused eyes. She had been sentenced to the back of the room not long after Marinette. “We’ve never been friends but consider all extra little perks you’ve gotten used to: dead and over with.”

           That was it. None of the other students knew what to say or do. They hadn’t gotten the reaction they expected. Marinette didn’t seem to care. Adrien seemed ready to set them on fire. Chloe looked rather pleased at the idea of seeing them burn. Most shrugged it off; figuring at least two of the three (Marinette and Adrien) would come crawling back in no time.

           They didn’t.

           Things started to change for the students in Bustier’s class the next day.

           Lila woke up in the morning to an email confirming that she would no longer being a model or any type of employee for the Gabriel Agreste brand. Or as Nathalie put it when the sausage hair girl called her, “We will no longer be needing your services, Miss Rossi. Do not contact us again.” Click.

           That was when Lila realized her plan of using Gabriel to get Adrien under her thumb had went up in flames. She hoped that Adrien wasn’t informed so that maybe she could still use his father as a threat against the boy.

           When she go to class, the blond model sent her a vicious smirk. Lila paled. She knew without a doubt that Adrien didn’t just know Lila was fired, he was the one got her fired.

           Nino woke up to the news that the gig he was due to play, his big break, had replaced him. It would’ve been huge for his career.

Oh well, he thought, back to DJ-ing for birthday parties.

           Alya accidently dropped her phone in the toilet; ruining hundreds of videos and pictures for the Ladyblog.

           Alix took a dive while skating; broke her ankle and the watch her dad gave her.

           Max broke his glasses.

           Kim got food poisoning.

           Ivan’s dad ran over his drum set while parking in the garage.

           Rose tried to call Prince Ali and found out he changed his number.

           Nathaniel spilled coffee all over his Ladybug comic strips. Marc had been pissed.

           Juleka’s mom accidently put bleach in with a load of her laundry; it ruined everything.

           By the time they had all got to class, all the students were in a terrible mood. However, when Marinette walked in with a box full of delicious smelling breakfast pastries; they perked up. The bluenette always seemed to know when they needed a pick me up. And there was nothing like a treat from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

           Marinette didn’t acknowledge any of their presences. She walked straight to the back of the classroom, sat in her seat between Chloe and Adrien. “Morning!” She beamed at her friends. “I brought treats for the three of us.”

“Awesome!” Adrien smiled, quickly opening the box and snagging a chocolate croissant. “Delicous, Thank you” He said. Or least they thought he said that. His mouth was full and it was mostly garbled.

           Chloe rolled her eyes. She grabbed a mixed berries and cream cheese pastry, “Perfect way to start the day. Thank you, Marinette.”

           Marinette took out her favorite: a berry and jasmine scone. Then she promptly through the box away; making clear that she hadn’t brought any for anyone else. “Anything for my friends.”

“We’ll do lunch at Le Grand Paris,” Chloe said. “On me of course. The chef there is to die for.”

           The other students visibly wilted. Alya in particular who loved going to Le Grand Paris as her mother was the head chef.

           It all went downhill from there.

           Over the next week things went from bad to worse for the students.

           Bustier told the class their trip the Presidential office was cancelled due to an unexpected flooding incident. The plan had been for the class to tour the office and have amazing picnic on the beach afterwards

           Lila’s mother, who had been busy nearly 24/7, officially went on vacation, meaning she plenty of time to spend with her daughter. Her daughter was panicked when her mother inquired about visiting her school.

           Alya discovered that the hits to her site had started to declined dramatically. She didn’t have time to worry about that as her internship with a local new studio had been cancelled; something about realizing Alya didn’t have enough experience. So her summer plans were cancelled.

           Nino’s Dj equipment sparked or shorted out or something but nothing would work anymore. He had cancel the rest of his gigs until he could buy new ones.

           Kim lost a swim match against Ondine.

           Markov got a virus and broke down causing Max to break down in tears.

           Nathaniel lost the expensive sketch pencil he won in a contest.

           Alix’s grandmother brought her a new dresses; frilly monstrosities that Alix’s forced her to wear to school for the entire week.

           Rose, Ivan, and Juleka were heartbroken when Luka announced he was going Solo.

           It didn’t help anyone’s mood that every day Marinette, Chloe, and Adrien walked into class with big smiles on their faces and pleasantly discussed their amazing plans.

           On Wednesday, Adrien invited Marinette and Chloe to come with him to meet the Prime Minister.

           Apparently, Adrien’s dad had called in favors so the three would tour Palais Bourbon, where the French Parliament meets.

“He said I could invite all my friends!” Adrien smiled.

           Marinette had been shocked at this. Until Adrien explained that his aunt had threatened to reveal to the world Gabriel Agreste’s neglectful behavior, his tendency break child labor laws, and his need to isolate Adrien. Thanks to his aunt, Adrien had a much free-er schedule and Gabriel had been in therapy for weeks. “I’ll bring food from the bakery. We can have a picnic!”

“Beach day!” Chloe cheered.

           No one else so much as smiled at the news. Even more so when pictures surfaced on Friday of Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Ondine, Marc, Mireille, and Aurore with various members of Parliament; including the prime minister.

           Thursday, Chloe loudly invited Marinette and Adrien to an event for her mother, “It’s a fashion show! It’s tonight. Adrien can relax behind the scenes, while Mari and me model on the run way. Mama’s lost a few models so I told her I could recommend a few friends.”

“I’m modeling!” Marinette paled so much, her friends were sure she’d pass out.

“I get to do nothing!” Adrien grinned.

           Pictures of Chloe and Marinette modeling exploded across the internet; multiple fashion websites and online magazines deeming the girls’ Style Queen’s secret weapon and modeling next big thing.

           Most of the guys in class shrugged it off. But a few of the girls turned greened with envy; Lila in particular.

           On Friday, Marinette invited Adrien and Chloe to meet her uncle and her cousin, “He’s back in town on Saturday and he wants to meet all my friends.”

           No one else in class paid too much to that. Who cared about Marinette’s uncle? Or her cousin? They were probably just as stuck-up and nasty as she was.

           Then on Saturday, picture of the same group who went to Parliament, plus Luka, with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale started trending on the internet. Jagged Stone posted a tweet about how awesome his honorary niece was, with a picture of him and Marinette. Clara posted a pic with her favorite little cousin, Marinette.

           Alya couldn’t believe her eyes and immediately started texting Marinette for the deets. She received a text back saying; new number; who dis?

           Nino flat-out called Adrien only hear that the number had been disconnected.

           The rest of the class faced the same issue.

           And then one by one, they each remembered that they weren’t friends with any of the tree Ostracized students anymore.

           Monday, Alya found out that BugOut, a competing Ladybug blog, had been officially endorsed by Ladybug and Chat Noir. Something that hadn’t happened with the Ladyblog.

           Max lost the science fair. For the first time. He had to go see the school guidance counselor.

           Kim got kicked off the team for his poor grade.

           Lila’s finally called the school to schedule an appointment. Lila was Akumatized within the five minutes.

           Alix’s grandma brought her more clothes; some which were tacky sweaters with cats all over them

           Nathaniel misplaced his new sketch book, with his redone Ladybug comic strips. He never found it. Marc wasn’t happy.

           Nino got a call to dj a huge event only to have to decline as he hadn’t bought new equipment yet.

           It was Adrien that brought in breakfast for the other two; Mcdonalds. Much to the Chloe and Marinette’s dismay, but they didn’t say anything as the boy was clearly happy about being allowed to eat it for the first time.

           Marinette unwrapped her sausage Mcgriddle, wondering who she hurt in a past life, “Jagged is doing a private concert. You two want to come?”

           Adrien nodded, his mouth full of fried hash brown and bacon. “Count me in,” They think he said.

           Chloe held the egg mcmuffin in her hand like it was physically hurting her to do so, “I’m in,” she said. “And I’m bringing breakfast tomorrow.”

           The class was dismayed at missing at meeting Jagged Stone again.

“Are you going to invite us?” Alya asked with a huff.

           Marinette didn’t even look in her direction, “Sorry Uncle Jagged said I can only invite my friends.”

           Ouch.

           Over the course of the next few months, things continued to fall apart for the class. They tried planning one of their usual amazing dances, only for everything to crash and burn. Then they remembered that Marinette planned everything, and before her, Chloe.

           The class never made enough money fundraising so nearly all planned class trips were canceled.

           They had to deal with seeing pictures of Marinette, Adrien, and Chloe and all their friends meeting all sorts of celebrities.

           Ladybug disowned the Ladyblog; causing Alya to burst into tears.

           No matter what any of the students tried, did, competed in, they never won. They practically failed at everything.

           Rose tried to bake cookies for the class; her kitchen caught on fire.

           Max applied for science camp; all spots were full.

           Nathaniel who had lost his comic drawing for the twelfth time in a row was finally told by Marc to take a hike.

           Nino lost his hat, broke his glasses, a dog at his homework, and he tripped landed face down in the mud; all on the way to school one morning.

           The students were constantly late, frustrated, and always seemed to have something accidently spilled or thrown on their clothes.

           Lila’s  mother, who finally decided to just randomly drop by the school after being told repeatedly by her daughter that it was closed so she couldn’t do the appointment for months, was shocked to say the least when it was clearly opened and active. She had a long talk with the Principle and all of Lila’s lies were revealed to class.

           Class was very apologetic to the three ostracized students after that but it didn’t matter. The three made it clear they weren’t interested in renewing their friendships.

           By the end of the year Bustier’s class went from the luckiest in school to the unluckiest kids on the planet.

           The students of Bustier’s class couldn’t help but wonder aloud why they lucked changed do much.

           Tikki, Plagg, and Pollen, hidden away in their chosens’ school bags just smirked.

#ml salt #ml fic #Marinette deserves better #marinette dupen chang #adrien deserves better #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois

[shadowywerewolfqueen]

I Cursed the Gloom That Set Upon Us

For Suptober Day 22. The full prompt was “I Cursed the Gloom That Set Upon Us, but I Know That I Love You So”.  This piece is pretty in canon minus the love confession at the end and I’m completely ignoring Cas’ deal with the Shadow in lieu of Cas and Dean getting a happy ending.

“Dean, you and Cas need to fix things,” Sam said as they sat at the table sipping on beers.

Dean slammed his bottle on the table. “You know, that’s exactly what Rowena said when we were in Hell. Why does everybody keep saying that?”

“Because the two of you don’t do well when you’re angry at each other. You guys are better off working together. Besides, you owe Cas an apology,” Sam said, afraid of how Dean would react.

“I owe him an apology? He’s the one that screwed up with Belphegor and getting the crook. Not to mention the whole mess with Jack and losing mom sits squarely on his shoulders,” Dean replied angrily.

Sam looked at Dean with one of his famous bitch faces. “Dean, Cas saved us from Belphegor and you know that! He was only using us to make a stab for the throne of Hell.” Sam was silent for a moment before adding, “It’s not Cas’ fault mom died.”

The chair toppled backwards as Dean lurched to his feet. He slammed his palms on the table and scowled at his brother. “HOW THE HELL CAN YOU SAY THAT?”

Sam was unfazed by his brother’s outburst. “Because Cas wasn’t the one to kill her.”

“No he didn’t, but he didn’t tell us about Jack and losing his soul! We all know how dangerous someone without a soul is! He should have told us! I never would have let mom near Jack if I had known the kid was walking around without a soul,” Dean said, his voice shaking with fury.

“He was just trying to protect Jack! Neither of us can say we wouldn’t have done the same thing! I was soulless and look what you did to get me back! Hell, I drank demon blood and look how hard you fought for me! You were a damn demon and I made some poor choices to make sure I got you back! We do anything to save each other, so why would you expect any less from Cas to protect Jack?” Sam stared at his brother, trying to make Dean see reason.

“He should have told us the truth about Jack! At least then we could have been more cautious around the kid,” Dean argued.

Sam frowned. “Oh yeah, because you definitely err on the side of caution. Dean, you didn’t even want to give Jack a chance when he was first born. Cas was probably afraid you would have tried to kill him again.”

“Mom is dead because of Jack,” Dean stated.

Sam shook his head. “You’re right, she is but we know- you know, if Jack had had a soul, he would have never hurt her. Dean, I let you get turned into a fucking vampire when I was soulless. You can’t blame Jack and you can’t blame Cas. He’s a Winchester, he didn’t exactly have the best role models when it comes to this kind of shit.”

Dean huffed and looked away. “He still should have said something. We could have avoided all of this.”

“Dean, quit acting like a child. You’re not pissed about Cas not telling us about Jack, not really. You’re pissed because Cas kept a secret from you. You’re pissed because Cas didn’t confide in you,” Sam replied.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean snapped.

Sam stood from his chair. “I know how you feel… about Cas, how you really feel. Instead of hiding behind your anger, maybe you could actually admit to yourself and to him how you truly feel. I get feelings aren’t your thing but don’t you think Cas deserves to know the truth?” He walked out the kitchen without another word.

A few days later found Dean and Cas walking down a beaten trail through Purgatory. Dean was mostly silent, still unsure about his feelings towards Cas. He was furious at the angel for his role in Mary’s death and then for leaving when things got hard. But, somewhere deeper down, were other feelings. Feelings that Sam had hinted at in the bunker’s kitchen. 

“I hate being in this place. Purgatory has a way of heightening your feelings,” Cas said softly.

Dean glanced at the angel before looking away. “And what feelings are those? I know right now anger is at the top of my list.”

Cas looked at Dean, hurt swimming in his eyes. “Well, this place will bring that out in you. Guilt is at the top of mine. Guilt. Being back here reminds me of my past transgressions. It was my fault the Leviathan got out. It was my fault we were here the first time. I carry that guilt every day.”

Dean swallowed past the lump in his throat. “What else do you feel guilt about?”

“For the people I didn’t manage to save and therefore lost them,” Cas replied stoically.

Dean licked his lips. He wasn’t sure who Cas was talking about but he had an idea. “I know you're sorry, Cas. About Bel, about Mom.” 

Cas looked at Dean, anger flickering across his features. “I was talking about Jack. I already apologized to you. You just refused to hear it.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “Sorry I brought it up. Maybe if you didn't just up and leave us.”

“You didn't give me a choice. You couldn't forgive me. And you couldn't move on. You were too angry. I left, but you didn't stop me,” Cas replied, a hard edge to his voice.

Dean was silent. Cas was right, Dean was angry. He was furious about mom and Jack. Sam was right, though, he was even angrier that Cas had never confided in him in the first place. After everything the two of them had been through, Dean was hurt that Cas didn’t trust him enough to talk to him. So, Dean did what he did best, he lashed out. He said the most hurtful things he could to Cas, causing the angel to leave which in turn hurt even more. 

Dean could forgive Cas, he just didn’t want to. If he did, he would be forced to look at his true feelings for the angel. It was easy to hide behind anger, it was familiar to Dean. Admitting the truth, that was terrifying and Dean had no idea where he would land if he did tell Cas the truth.

Before Dean had a chance to say anything, the Leviathan blossoms came into view. Too bad the leviathan they had been following had led them into a trap. After a brief scuffle, Dean was knocked unconscious. When he woke up, Cas was gone and the blossoms were all burned to a crisp.

Dean pushed to his feet and stared at the blossoms in defeat. They had lost and now there was no other way to defeat Chuck. He looked around and called out, “CAS! CAS!” He started walking back to the rift, hoping to find Cas along the way.

He wandered for hours and still there was no sign of Cas. Dean was deep in the forest and he was losing hope every second. He pulled his phone out to check how much longer they had until the rift closed and was dismayed to see they had less than half an hour. Dean looked around again, the silence of the forest closing in around him. He let out a few gasps of air, trying to keep his emotions in check. He had to find Cas, he just had to. Even if he was angry, he couldn’t lose the angel.

He leaned against a tree and did something he hadn’t done in years. He prayed to his best friend. “Cas? Cas, I hope you can hear me... that wherever you are, it's not too late.” Dean licked his lips and said the words he should have told Cas a long time ago. “I should've stopped you. You're my best friend, but I just let you go. 'Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.” 

Dean exhaled sharply, trying to keep the tears from falling but it wasn’t working. He sniffled as he felt the wetness gathering in the corners of his eyes. He looked around, hoping to see the angel, but he was still hopelessly alone. He kneeled next to the tree, his legs unable to support his weight any longer. “I-- Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know -- I know that it's -- i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just -- it comes out. And I can't -- I can't stop it.” 

The first few tears were starting to slide down his cheeks as Dean finally admitted the truth he had been carrying inside. “No matter how -- how bad I want to, I just can't stop it. And -- and I-I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. I'm sorry it took me so long -- I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm -- I'm so sorry. Man, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can hear me.” 

Dean’s voice broke on the last word. He glanced around one final time and still no sign of Cas. He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath. There was one more thing he needed to say and there were a couple song lyrics that summed it up perfectly. “I cursed the gloom that set upon us, but I know that I love you so,” Dean prayed softly. He looked for Cas, hoping the angel would appear. He licked his lips and dried the last of his tears. “Okay.” He stood to his feet and started walking once again.

A few minutes later, a voice called out, “Dean!” 

Dean hefted his gun and aimed but immediately dropped it when he realized who was nestled under a tree. Dean’s face lit up in relief and joy at seeing the angel. “Cas.”

Cas stood up and Dean couldn’t help but notice the dried blood on his face and the ripped clothes. Dean didn’t care about any of that as he pulled Cas into a tight hug, glad to know his angel was safe. Cas quickly explained what happened after Dean was knocked unconscious. Even though he was taken by leviathans, Cas managed to find a blossom and escape. 

“You did it. You did it Cas,” Dean said,staring at his friend with pride.

Cas gave a single nod of his head. “Well, they’re still after me. We should hurry,” he said as he tucked the blossom back in his coat.

Dean looked at Cas and knew he had to tell him the truth. He didn’t know if Cas heard his prayer so he was going to make sure now. “Okay Cas, I need to say something.”

“You don’t have to say it. I heard your prayer,” Cas said before walking forward and sealing his mouth over Dean’s.

Dean dropped his gun as he wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist. He moved his lips against Cas’ and even though they were dry, the angel’s lips against his was the best feeling in the world. He pressed closer, wanting to feel as much of the angel’s body as possible. He tilted his head, allowing their lips to press even closer together.

When they finally broke apart, Dean was panting. Cas didn’t seem much better. They stared at each other, something bright shining in their eyes. Cas reached out and twined his fingers with Dean’s. “I love you too.”

Dean was so overwhelmed that all he could do was press his lips to Cas’ once more. Things weren’t completely fixed between them and they still had God to defeat but with Cas by his side, Dean knew he could conquer the world.

#suptober20 #My writing #my OTP #Destiel

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 5 (1/3)

Here I am! How was Christmas?

Previously on TWoT: A 2020 girl ends up in 1899 with a bunch of outlaws. First she freaks out. Then, she agrees in living with them. After, she begins to know the gang members, the way they think and act and among them a certain Mr. Morgan catches her attention. Now, she wants to go around, learn more about the surroundings and be an active part of the gang. 

Chapter 5 (1/3) - Playing and learning

Words: 3k

That morning Emily woke up with an urgent need: she needed to brush her teeth. She hadn’t done it in thee days and started wondering how could those people live without brushing. She had asked Mary-Beth, of course, who confirmed the existence of toothbrushes and paste, but they didn’t use it. Apparently in 1899 it was considered as something only rich people could do, because they had time and money to waste in personal hygiene. So Emily had to settle for an old friend: the chewing gum. They kindly informed her that gum was an old habit already and that the mint flavor variation appeared at least thirty years earlier, a fact that surprised her. 

After all the work Miss Grimshaw had given them the day before, there was nothing to do in camp, and when Emily said nothing, she meant nothing. Again, she questioned Mary-Beth, asking her what did they do when they didn’t work. Her answers was: nothing. They read something, wandered around, complained about the boredom, insulted each other. The last one seemed to be an important part of camp-life: instead of talking with each other, act like a group, like a family, at the first chance they had they were at each other’s throat.  

For example Emily soon understood Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen didn’t like Molly, and apparently Miss Grimshaw didn’t like her, either, but Emily couldn’t understand why. They were all women living in a difficult situation, they should have sticked together, have each other’s back. Where was their sisterhood?

When Mary-Beth returned to her book, Emily started walking among the tents, preparing herself to a day full of attempts to understand those people, the only thing she could do to avoid being bored to death. After all, she had no music, no interesting books, no TV and no Internet.

As she reached the center of the camp, she spotted Miss Grimshaw sipping something from a cup right next to the pot in company of the man who Emily learned to be Mr. Strauss, the money lender. She gulped and summoned all her courage before approaching them. That woman had something that attracted her like a moth with a lantern, the same effect Hosea had on her. 

“Good Morning, Miss Grimshaw” she said shyly.

“Morning to you” she replied.

Even when she wasn’t giving orders, the inflection of her voice was strong and straightforward. 

“Morning” said Strauss and Emily nodded as an answer.

“I-I was wondering, why everybody addresses to you with your last name, Miss Grimshaw?”

The woman seemed taken aback by that strange question and for a moment she struggled with her own thoughts.

“I guess it’s a way to show respect. Even though they don’t give me much respect apart from calling me by my last name. These new generations, they’ll be the ruin of this world.”

Emily smiled at her complaining, thinking about all the times she had heard something like that in 2020. Some things never change.

“That’s a pity, you have really a beautiful name, they should use it more often.”

Miss Grimshaw frowned.

“Are you trying to make fun of me, girl?”

“N-no, Miss Grimshaw, never! I-I… you just remind me a lot of… my mother has a similar personality. She’s not as strict as you are, b-but… she’s the one who governs the house and gives orders and taught me how to take care of myself.”

Emily talked with her head low, thinking how pathetic she was sounding.

“What about your father?” asked Mr. Strauss and Emily noticed his foreign accent.

“Oh no, my father is more like a subject” she laughed.

Then, after an embarrassing silence fell, Emily addressed Mr. Strauss.

“You have a strange accent. Where you come from?”

“Austria.”

“Really? My grandfather’s brother lived for some time in Austria after the war ended and he kept telling us how much Austrians were different from Germans. He said they were more… friendly somehow.”

“Which war?” asked Mr. Strauss.

“The… Second World War” answered Emily, but while she pronounced the words she already new they couldn’t understand.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about things you still haven’t lived.”

“Oh for Lord’s sake girl. When will you give it a rest with this nonsense?” Miss Grimshaw rebuked her.

“It’s not her fault, Susan. You can perfectly tell she really believes in her delusions” answered Mr. Strauss. 

Emily lowered her eyes and felt like she had been stabbed in the back. They didn’t believe her, but what could she expect? They seemed two down to earth people, they didn’t have the predisposition to believe her.

“I’m sorry, I-I’ll go find something else to do than bother you” she murmured and without looking at them she quickly walked away.

Her legs leaded her in the back of the kitchen and she realized where she was only when she saw the prisoner tied to the tree. Again, she thought that probably he was tied there for a reason, maybe because he was too dangerous, or that he had done something terrible, and he deserved to be there. So again she walked away without looking at him twice. 

As she kept going, thinking about how many people in that camp were just not going to believe her and her story, she passed right in front of Arthur’s tent, but he wasn’t there. She stopped and looked around for a second, being sure he wasn’t in her range of sight before drawing closer. 

The first thing that stroke her was the amount of photographs: one of a woman on the table, another woman on the crate at the back of the bed, and then three on the side of the wagon. On the table by the bed there also was Arthur’s hat, which Emily took before sitting on the cot. She looked at it for a while before placing it on her head and smiling feeling how heavy it was compared to what she expected. Then, she turned around to look better at the three photos hanged on the wagon. 

There was a… dog? There was a man, who, thanks to the resemblance to Arthur and to the name written on a tablet he was holding, Emily could understand was his father. But was the third photo that shocked Emily most of all: a young Arthur with two young Dutch and Hosea! The latter was the one Emily focused on, with his very pale blond hair, and she couldn’t help but notice he was incredibly handsome! Even more than Arthur who with the years had got definitely better. 

So, that was the place Arthur slept in, she thought turning to sit straight again. Maybe he had his diary somewhere. She looked around, but the only thing she found was a little newspaper cutting dated 1887 about a bank robbery, and reading the description of the suspects, Emily recognized Dutch, Hosea and Arthur. She laughed picturing the scene in her mind, and in the end she was surprised to find out the money they had stolen, they gave it away to the poor. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” 

Emily turned to smile at Arthur as he walked closer and stood up showing him the cutting.

“A bank robbery?” she asked.

“You know you’re trespassing a private property, don’t you?”

“I didn’t think you minded too much about private property” she laughed.

Arthur took the hat from her head and put it on his with an annoyed face that made everything more hilarious for Emily.

“So, that’s your father, I got this” she said pointing at the photo while Arthur took the cutting from her hands.

“And I suppose this is your mother” she added taking the photo from the table and turning it to read the name.

“Beatrice, it’s a beautiful name.” Arthur took the photo too and put it back to its place.

“But I don’t understand who’s that woman. Your sister maybe?” she asked pointing at the other woman picture.

Arthur took her by her shoulders and made her turn around.

“This is none of your business” he said pushing her out of his tent. 

“I’m just trying to know you better. I love that picture with Dutch and Hosea, by the way. The three of you looked awesome!” she replied turning to look at him.

His pissed off face made Emily laugh, but in the end she returned serious.

“I’m sorry you’ve lost your parents. Your mum looked like a good woman” she said looking at him right in the eye. 

“I can’t say the same about your dad, because from my understanding he was a criminal too, but…”

Arthur’s hands on her made her jump and when he spoke a shiver ran down her back.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know” he growled.

She froze on her place looking at his clear eyes. He had the same look of the day before, when they came out of the saloon, the look that had scared her, that made her understand he wasn’t joking anymore, the look that had the power to put her back into her place.

As he walked away she felt suddenly heavy. She was sorry and ashamed for what she had done. He was right, she didn’t know anything about him, she had no right to say things about him, his family and his past. She wanted to run, reach him and tell him how sorry she was, but she didn’t, scared by the fact he could get even angrier.

...

Emily was a very active kind of person, always working, always doing something with herself, and that situation was boring her, so she had to think about something. Who she wanted to spend her time with? She didn’t get to choose. As she left Mr. Morgan’s private space, Jack came running and asked her to play hopscotch again. 

“Why don’t we try something new instead?” she asked kneeling down to look at him right in the eye.

“Do you know other games?”

“Oh I know plenty of games. For example: what do you want to be when you grow up, Jack?”

The little boy frowned: no-one had ever asked him that question and for him it seemed something impossible to answer. 

“I don’t know” he said in the end.

“Well, when I was little, I knew exactly what I wanted to be. I wanted to be an explorer. So I took my backpack and went exploring.”

“What did you explore?”

“Everything. I’ve been in the African deserts, the highest and coldest mountains of Asia and the thickest jungles of South America.” “Really?”

“Yes, really. I just had to close my eyes and I could see them.”

“How?”

“Use your imagination. Come, I’ll show you.”

The process was more difficult than Emily expected. Jack was four years old, but she had never seen a more down-to-earth kid in all her life. Imagination was a strange word in his vocabulary. 

“When Uncle Hosea reads a story to you, you imagine what happens on your head, right?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s the same thing, you just have to take the images from your head and bring them in the reality. Now, first of all, explorers have hats, big hats, so we have to find two.”

After they found the hats - Emily borrowed a big one from Charles and Jack one from his father - she started with her play. She brought him into the woods, searching among the leaves and dirt for traces of the ‘big mountain gorilla’, then she made him cross the 'Pacific Ocean’ on a canoe, which was a crate, and landed on the exotic ‘New Guinea’.

“Look, Jack!” she exclaimed pointing her finger at Tilly in the distance.

“She’s one of the native girls of the island. Should we approach her and find out if she speaks our language?”

...

The new girl was playing again with Jack and this time her game was even crazier than the jumping on numbers. They kept wandering around camp, or in the woods, or on the edge of the cliff and pointing at things that didn’t exist. At one point they even approached the fire, where some of the gang members were sitting, with a stealth and careful pace like they were hunting a dangerous animal, but instead the girl pointed at Uncle’s face and said: “Look Jack, this is a great shaman of the Australian desert. They say he has magical powers. We should show our respects.”

Javier, Bill and Uncle himself laughed in a snort looking at her slim figure bowing in reverence.

“Oh great shaman, please, enlighten us with your wisdom.”

“What exactly are you doing?” exclaimed Lenny coming closer to the fire.

“Oh no! They sent one of their warriors. Hurry Jack, bring me my sword, we have to defend ourselves!” she yelled to the little boy.

Without hesitation, he run away and Emily looked at Lenny who was about to sit down. 

“No, no don’t sit, please. We have to fight” she said.

“I won’t fight with you” he replied.

“Come on, Lenny! I’m doing it for Jack.”

“What? Acting like a fool?” asked Bill.

“Playing with the imagination. He needs this” she answered.

Lenny didn’t want to, it was stupid, it was humiliating, but she was begging him with the eyes.

“Here’s your sword!” yelled little Jack running towards her and giving her two sticks.

“Take your weapon, sir. We’ll see if you are as brave as the stories tell” she said with a big fake voice and handed one stick to Lenny.

He sighed and looked at the people around him as they were all wondering if he would have played that stupid game. He had no choice: he took the stick and put himself in position.

The mayhem she was causing caught the attention of more people until even Dutch came out of his tent to look at the scene.

“The hell are they doing?” he heard Arthur’s voice by his side.

“I have no idea” he laughed.

Lenny dodged and attacked again and finally succeeded in hitting Emily’s leg.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed and threw herself on the ground.

“Jack! Jack come here! I need you to take my place! Here, take the sword. Fight my faithful friend, fight for my honor!”

Everybody laughed again at her words as Jack took her place in the “fight”.

Arthur chuckled too and took a few steps towards that unusual scene. That girl had had the power to make Lenny play. Lenny, who always did everything in his power to make the others believe he was a grown up man. How had she done it?

“Well, she surely is a better actress than you, Arthur” joked Hosea showing up by his side.

“Yeah, maybe you should take her with you to the next robbery.”

Hosea chuckled.

“Maybe I will.”

...

Finally, Lenny let Jack hit him and, just like Emily had done, he threw himself on the ground and played dead. A loud shout of joy raised from the people around them for Jack’s victory and Emily was delighted by the fact that she had been able to involve all of them in the game.

“Okay, I guess it’s done. Go give the hat back to your daddy. We’ll explore more another day” she said taking Charles’ hat off.

Jack hopped away and she walked closer to Lenny as he was standing up.

“Thank you for playing the game. I didn’t know you were such a good actor” she joked.

“Never good as you” he replied.

“And also thanks to the great shaman, for his infinite patience” she addressed Uncle with another bow.

“My pleasure, dear. You’ll be surprised to know I’ve actually been to Australia.”

“Really? When?” she asked sitting on the log near the campfire.

“Australia? You?” asked Bill making Emily understand he didn’t believe him.

“Why is it so difficult to believe?” she asked.

“Ah! I’m more inclined to believe you come from the future than he’s ever been to Australia.”

“And you’re right, I never did.”

Emily frowned.

“So, you lied?” she asked.

“I’ve never been there, but I tried to. I made it as far as Chicago” answered Uncle.

Emily fixed her eyes on him, trying to understand if he was playing dumb, or he really was, before she busted out laughing. 

“Chicago ain’t nowhere near Australia” exclaimed Bill, who unlike Emily seemed annoyed by Uncle’s words.

“No… but it’s on the way.”

Emily laughed again, louder and longer.

“What’s so fun?” asked Bill.

“You can’t be serious Uncle” she said among the tears.

“Why not? That’s the way for Australia. Maybe one day we’ll all go there and live the rest of our lives as kangaroo farmers.”

Emily couldn’t believe her ears. If those people were outlaws their only crime was lack of common sense!

“Okay, I think I’ll return the hat to Charles” she said standing up and drying her tears. 

She covered the distance to Mr. Smith’s tent still thinking about that crazy conversation she had just had, the road to Australia that passed through Chicago, the kangaroo farmers… That man couldn’t be serious. 

“Here, Charles. Thank you for lending me this” she said at the man as she reached his tent.

He was making some arrows and the thing intrigued her so much that she stopped by his side for a while to look at him working. But of course she didn’t limit herself to watch, she had to ask questions. She asked him everything about making arrows, the type of feathers he had to use, the type of wood, and then she passed to bows, how difficult it was to use one, how difficult it was to make one…

...

Charles had never minded to teach people how to do things and that was the only thing that stopped him from standing up and walk away from her. She was a good girl after all, she just had one flaw: the constant need to speak. 

“I know that Natives learn how to hunt from their horses when they are very young, is that true?” she asked.

“Yeah. How do you know that?” Charles asked in turn. That was his first question.

“I read it somewhere. Is it difficult? To ride a horse, I mean.”

“You can’t do it?”

She shook her head.

“You want to learn?”

“Oh no, for God’s sake. I hate horses.” “What?”

Charles couldn’t believe what she had just said and stopped what he was doing to stare deeply at her.

“I mean… I don’t hate horses, I just don’t like them. They’re dangerous.”

“Who told you that?”

“My father.”

“Has he ever ridden one?”

She seemed to think about it.

“No, I don’t think so.” “So, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” “But they are dangerous.”

“Only if you can’t control them.”

Charles watched her carefully before he took his decision.

“Come, I’ll show you” he said standing up from his chair.

“Show me what?”

“That there is nothing to be afraid of.” “No, Charles, really, I don’t…” “Come” he said and took one of her hands to help her stand.

Arthur had been looking at them from the distance while they were seated one on the chair and the other on the ground. From that little that he knew about Charles, he could perfectly tell he was extremely annoyed by all those questions the girl was asking him, but he was behaving wonderfully, and he didn’t expect nothing less from Charles. 

As he saw them standing up and walking away, his curiosity raised and he moved away from the tree he was laying against to follow them. They reached the external part of camp and he heard Charles saying “wait here” to the girl before he drew closer to the horses.

Arthur took the pack of cigarettes and brought one to his lips, lighting it and taking a puff. Charles came back, leading his horse by the reins. What were they doing? Were they planning to go someplace? Where could Charles possibly take her?

#rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female oc #jack marston #hosea matthews #lenny summers #bill williamson #Charles Smith

[banshee1013]

For Science!

Next in the Looking Glass series... set in the @familybrpg universe, to where I discover some consequences of my previous visit and Castiel has some ideas to try... For Science!

*******************************************************************************************

Bright sunlight filtered through my bedroom window. My eyes fluttered open, then squinted against the light. 

I rolled over to get a glance at the clock. Huh, almost 10 AM. I'd been asleep for almost twelve hours. That's gotta be a record for me. Good thing it was Sunday…  

I took a closer look at the clock. At the date. 

OH SHIT. 

It was MONDAY. And I was a good THREE HOURS LATE for work! 

Not twelve hours - almost THIRTY-TWO. 

I jumped out of bed to grab my phone and call the boss - and promptly fell on my ass as a wave of dizziness knocked me to the floor, and my stomach lurched. 

Yeah, so I guess work wasn't happening today. I crawled to the charger - SLOWLY - and grabbed my phone. As long as I didn't move too fast, I could keep the dizziness and nausea at bay, and my eyes to focus on the screen. I shot an email off to the boss telling him I was sick and apologizing for the late notice before collapsing back to the floor. 

What the ever-loving FUCK. 

A few more minutes of laying there and I was able to rise to a sitting position. A few minutes more and I was standing. The dizziness and nausea faded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

I could *finally* go downstairs and make some coffee. I might be able to actually THINK after that. 

Ten minutes later, a steaming cup of French-pressed Lion coffee in my hands, I opened Twitter and opened a DM. 

I had to talk to Sam. 

*********************************** 

@redbanshee: Hey Sam… are you there? 

@ItSam1983: Hi Celi… err, Cee. How are you?

@redbanshee: Um, I'm not sure. I just woke up.

@ItSam1983: Well, it's, what… around 10:30 AM your time? Is that unusually late for you?

@ItSam1983: I mean, it would be for me, but… Dean's still asleep… :/ 

@redbanshee: Sorry, I didn't make myself clear - I JUST woke up. Like, since the LAST TIME WE TALKED. 

@ItSam1983: Hold on… are you saying you've been asleep for… an entire DAY?

@redbanshee: Yeah, longer actually - about a day and a half.

@redbanshee: … and I don't know why.

@ItSam1983: Hey, Cas just walked in. Let me get him in a GC, he might know what's going on. 

… oh god. Castiel.

I'm finally going to talk to the angel. Thank every single holy thing that it's only through chat.

I can always erase any idiot thing I type before sending it. 

@ItSam1983: Hey Cas. Got it figured out?

@_iamCastiel: Hello, Sam. Yes, I have figured out how to use this… chat? Is that what you called it?

@ItSam1983: Yeah, group chat. Cas, this is my friend, Celina. She has a question you might have an answer to.

@_iamCastiel: Of course. Hello, Celina. How may I help?

@redbanshee: Uh, hi Castiel. It's nice to meet you… well, talk to you anyway. I didn't get to see you when I was there last time and I…

 Goddammit shut up you friggin' idiot!

So much for erasing before I type…

 @_iamCastiel: Sam and Dean told me about your visit. I am very sad I was not here to witness it, the process sounds fascinating. I would like to study it more if you don't mind.

Sad he missed me?? OMGOMGOMG

Ok, pull it together. It's not you, it's your little trick he's interested in.

Deep breath…

 @redbanshee: That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about… well, I actually talked to Sam first and he thought you might know…

  DEEP FUCKING BREATH, IDIOT.

 @redbanshee: I just slept for over a day.

@redbanshee: And I was very dizzy and nauseous as well, at first.

@redbanshee: But I seem to be ok now. 

@_iamCastiel: If I were to guess… and I am… I would say you're suffering from some form of temporal sickness, for lack of a better term.

@_iamCastiel: Travelling between dimensions… universes, if you will… places stress upon your physical form.

@_iamCastiel: Do you have any external damage?

@redbanshee: Not that I noticed. Maybe a bruise on my butt when I fell down at first but…

 No. NO I DID NOT JUST TALK ABOUT MY BUTT…

 @_iamCastiel: That is good, at least. So your body was unscathed, but your mind noticed the difference and reacted poorly. You were unprepared for the shift.

@redbanshee: But… I checked the time when I got back - three hours had passed, both there and here. So, not like when you go to Heaven, or Hell - no time dilation.

@redbanshee: and traveling to the Alternate Universe to save Mary and Jack didn't seem to affect you, Sam, or Dean… unless they just didn't cover that on the show or something…

@ItSam1983: Oh, believe me, we were affected afterward. All the AU hunters that came through were as well.

@ItSam1983: … but not as much as you were. Only a couple of hours, if I remember right.

@_iamCastiel: Sam, you and Dean, and the hunters from the other universe were protected from most of the 'side effects' by the spell Rowena cast to open the rift, as well as the Grace from Lucifer used to power the spell. Celina, if I understand correctly, you came through the rift unprotected?

@redbanshee: If by "unprotected" you mean, I more or less WILLED my way through? Yeah.

@redbanshee: I didn't even know it would work, let alone know how to… protect myself.

@redbanshee: I mean, I didn't even bring a weapon because I was coming to the Bunker and meeting Dean who would have killed anything that showed up and what's gonna show up at the Bunker anyway unless it has a death wish or something…

 AAAAHHHRRGH.

I swear I could hear Sam laughing at me right now, over Twitter.

Oh no, and Cas is probably laughing at me too… uggghhhhh…

 @_iamCastiel: Yes, it was rather foolhardy… but I understand that in some things, the only way to know if it can be done is to do it. Thankfully, you were not permanently injured.

@_iamCastiel: And in fact, I might have a solution.

@ItSam1983: A solution? To what?

@_iamCastiel: To protect her from the effects of the temporal shift - in a similar fashion to Lucifer's Grace providing some protection for you and Dean.

@_iamCastiel: Celina, if you are willing - I would like to perform an experiment to see if my solution will work. 

@redbanshee: Like, right now?

@_iamCastiel: If possible, yes. I am quite eager to try it out.

 No way am I going to finally meet Castiel, Gorgeous Angel of the Friggin' LORD, smelling as awful as I'm sure I did right now. 

… FOR GOD'S SAKE DO NOT MENTION TAKING A SHOWER…

 @redbanshee: I really need to take a shower first… say a half hour from now?

 OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE…

 @redbanshee: Uh… what about Dean? You know how he is - if he finds out how much it affected me, he'll be really pissed if I kept doing it…

@ItSam1983: Don't worry about Dean, he, uh… "released the Kraken" last night, so he'll be out for a while yet.

 I really DO NOT want to contemplate the idea of Dean 'releasing the Kraken'…

 @redbanshee: Ok, gimme a half hour. I'll DM you when I'm ready to come through. 

*************************************** 

A half hour later (or so, don't judge), I was clean, dry, and refreshed.

And nervous as hell. Not just from worry over suffering a repeat of the temporal sickness.

But because I was meeting Cas. 

I'm being ridiculous. He's perfectly nice. A real sweetie by all accounts.

He wanted to PROTECT ME.

OK, yes, my heart fluttered. SUE ME. 

************************************** 

@redbanshee: Hey Sam? I'm ready when you are.

@ItSam1983: OK. We'll meet you outside the Bunker door, same place you met Dean before.

@redbanshee: Sounds good. See you in a jif. 

************************************* 

I stood in front of the mirror and cleared my mind. Envisioned the Bunker door, the smell of the gravel and dirt before it. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind on the nearby trees. 

I stepped through the mirror and into the early afternoon Kansas sunlight. 

******************************************************************************************* 

Sam's great bear hug was the first thing that greeted me.

"That was incredible!" he exclaimed in delight. "The air just seemed to briefly shimmer, and then I saw something that looked like… a desk? And a futon? Purple walls…? And then you just popped through… " 

I couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, my spare bedroom. And I keep that mirror behind closed doors until I plan to use it - I have recurring nightmares of something walking back through it when I'm not looking…" 

"Understandable… but highly unlikely." A deep voice rumbled from behind Sam's broad back. 

My breath caught. Cas.

I peered hesitantly around Sam.

Cas stood quietly, hands in the ubiquitous trench coat pockets.

A warm smile lit his face, and bright blue eyes danced.

He was everything I imagined, and so much more. 

Sam smiled and shifted over to stand next to me. "Cas, this is Celina. Cee, Cas."

"H-h-hi," I stammered like a moron, unable to peel my eyes away from his, drowning in that blue. Frozen in place.

Sam gave me a gentle shove in his direction, breaking my reverie. I approached, hand outthrust. 

Cas removed his hands from his pockets as I approached, but instead of grasping my outstretched hand, he ignored it in favor of laying his hands gently on my shoulders, holding me at arm's length. 

"Sam has often explained to me that hugging is preferable in these situations," he said calmly, before moving his hands to my back and pulling me against his broad chest. 

My arms fluttered helplessly at my sides. 

"This is where you hug back…" he said in a soft voice, chin brushing the top of my head.

My arms tentatively wrapped around his waist, and he squeezed.

I squeezed back.

He smelled like… cinnamon. And salt. And ozone, like a lightning bolt shot through a clear summer day.

It was, literally… divine.

It lasted forever and ended all too soon. He released me, and then promptly raised a palm toward my forehead… 

"Hey Cas, hold up!" Sam interjected. Cas shot him a confused look, blue eyes squinting. 

"You should probably explain *what* you plan on doing first, right?" 

Cas backed away, eyes dropping. "Of course. My apologies." 

I plucked at his sleeve to get his attention. "Hey, it's ok." He met my eyes and I smiled into them. "But yes, I'm curious as to what your 'solution' is…" 

"I plan to imbue you with a small portion of my Grace." he said, matter-of-factly.

Like, no big deal. Just here, have some angel Grace. 

"As I explained during our Twitter conversation, Rowena's spell used Lucifer's Grace to power the portal. This also caused whoever passed through the portal to be imbued with a small portion of that Grace as well, which I believe protected them from the temporal shift." His brow furrowed slightly. "While I am merely a Seraph, not an Archangel, I am not sure exactly how much protection my Grace will give you… but I expect it will at least protect you from some of the effects you have experienced." 

I let that sink in for a minute. "'Imbue'? What exactly does that mean?" I thought about it more, and interjected as he was about to speak, "and I've already come through the…portal. Isn't the damage already done?" 

"No. Coming from your universe to ours causes you no harm since you have direct access to your native… power, for lack of a better word. Your belief, that which powers the portal for you, surrounds you there. But when you return, you're having to pull that power, that belief, from this universe before the portal opens and you can access your native power again through the open portal. This is where the damage occurs - having to use power that is not native to you to open the portal." 

I give him a slow blink. "Ooookay…so how does your Grace help in this situation?" 

"My Grace will provide a buffer - it will ease your access to the power here so it is not as much of a strain" 

"And now long will the protection last… how many trips do I get out of each shot of Angel Juice?" 

Cas shrugged. "Hence the need for experimentation." He leveled his gaze at me. "But it is very likely the 'angel juice' as you put it will only last for a single trip." 

I winced - both at the one-trip-per-angel-juice-shot prospect… and at my crass use of "angel juice" when referring to ANGELIC GRACE.

To the ANGEL PROVIDING IT.

I hesitantly glanced back up at him, expecting him to be frowning at me for my insolence. 

But instead, a small grin teased at the corners of his mouth. I breathed a sigh of relief. 

Sam seemed to take the sigh as concern or disappointment on my part. "But, we also figure that you'll only need this protection a couple of times," he interjected quickly. "The more you come through, the easier it will be for you to access and use the power here." He shrugged. "At least, that's what we hope." 

I nodded at him, then turned back to Cas.

"Ok, I'm game. How do we do this, then?" 

No sooner had the words left my lips, Cas had placed a palm on my forehead. 

I had a brief moment of thought, a hasty memory of those old evangelical shows my mom used to watch, where the preacher would place a palm on some poor sap's head and squeal "BE HEEEEEAAAALLLED!".

A nervous giggle escaped at the thought. 

Cas' lips pursed in concentration, his eyes flashed an incandescent blue… and a jolt of electrical current flashed against my forehead, surging down my arms and legs with sparks like static electricity and a bright flash behind my eyes… 

***************************************** 

"Cee… Hey, kiddo.. c'mon, talk to me!" 

Dean's voice, soft and worried, coming from the darkness. A pinprick of dim light appeared in the distance and I tried to focus on it. As I did, it grew larger, brighter, and I moved toward it. 

Warm hands on either side of my face, head cushioned on plush fabric, body suspended on soft firmness… 

A bed. With a pillow. Infirmary in the Bunker.

My eyes opened and met wide green ones… Dean. 

His sigh of relief brushed across my face… a faint hint of whiskey. I smiled. Of course, whiskey. I could use some of that right now, I thought…

His fingers tensed against my left cheek, gentle pats against my right.

"Hey, there you are…" The green eyes softened… then narrowed and hardened before looking up and over to something… someone… unseen over my right shoulder. 

"What the HELL were you thinking, Cas?" he growled, starting to rise from the sitting position on the bed next to me. 

I reached up to grab his arm, holding him down and still blinking a bit to bring him back into focus as my eyes readjusted to…well, seeing again. "Dean… it's ok. I'm ok." Twisted my head around to follow his gaze - Cas, sitting on the bed next to me. Meeting Dean's hardened stare with a squint and head tilt. 

"Dean…" Sam's voice, coming from the foot of the bed.

Dean pointed back at his brother, eyes not leaving Cas. "Zip it. I'll deal with you later." 

"OH for… shit's sake!" Censoring the g-word has become a force of habit recently, in light of events on this side of the mirror. Sitting up, I tugged harder on Dean's arm, pulling his attention away from Cas and encountering the full force of that glower. 

"I'm. Fine." Enunciating the words slowly to drive home the point, to de-escalate the situation. Met that scowl head-on with one of my own. I turned to Sam. "How long was I out?" 

"Only a few minutes…" 

"ONLY…" Dean barked. I punched his arm. 

Sighing, his eyes closed. "Fine. Someone want to explain to me what the hell *happened*?" 

"We were attempting an experiment designed to mitigate the effects of Celina's passage through the portal back to her world…" Cas started. 

"Effects?" Dean interjected, cutting him off. Turning back to me, "WHAT effects?" 

"Nothing too bad, " I said nonchalantly, keeping my features neutral - or at least I hoped I was. 

"The exertion of power necessary to return exhausted her, causing her to remain asleep for over a day…" Cas started, then stopped, puzzled, at my audible groan. My hands covered my face as I felt the force of his focus return to me. 

"WHAT? An *entire day*… and you came BACK?" Dean's voice sounded more incredulous than angry.

"Well.…yeah?" I lowered my hands and shrugged. "Cas wanted to try out his idea." 

"Oh… holy shit, I didn't even think…," Sam groaned, grimacing. "You must be STARVING…"  As if to prove his point, an audible rumble emitted from my stomach. 

I laughed. "Yeah, I could do with a bite. Can we pick this up in the kitchen while someone makes me a sandwich or something?" 

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, both Cas and Dean rising to either side to assist. I brushed them off but as my hand brushed Cas', a blue-white spark flew from my hand to his, accompanied by an audible *pop* and the smell of ozone. 

I jumped back with a yelp of surprise, as Sam and Dean flinched in response. Cas nodded, frowning. Not surprised, as if expecting the reaction, but still unhappy about it.  

"What the hell…" Dean's eyes shot from me and back to Cas, then sighed, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm getting REALLY TIRED of asking that question." 

"I'll explain in the kitchen," Cas said mildly. Turning to me, "I suggest avoiding skin-to-skin contact for now." 

************************************* 

I wolfed down the sandwich Sam made for me and listened as Cas explained the nature of the experiment to Dean. 

"So let me get this straight - you shot her up with ANGEL JUICE? With no idea how it might affect her?" Dean exclaimed. 

I choked on the bite of sandwich, and Sam patted my back as I took a gulp of beer to chase it down. 

Cas rolled his eyes, whether at the second use of "angel juice" today or Dean's outburst, who could tell. 

"There was no way to anticipate the reaction. There is very little difference between what I did to her and what I've done to both you and Sam to heal your injuries." His eyes squinted. "A small increase in exertion, at most." 

"So what's causing the… static discharge?" Sam inquired. "That's never happened after you've healed us, no matter how much force or whatever you've used." 

I turned questioning eyes to Cas, grunting in agreement around a mouth still full of sandwich. Hey, it was good and I was hungry. 

"I can only guess that it is has something to do with you being from another universe," he said, directing the answer at me. "A universe with apparently no angels, no previous exposure to Grace." 

I swallowed and took a breath. "I still don't understand what happened to me. Did the… imbuing or whatever… fail?" I turned to Sam. "In fact, what exactly happened? I saw a flash of light and the next thing I know, I'm in that bed with Dean trying to crush my skull." 

It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. I grinned toothily at him. He shook his head, turning away but not before I caught a twitch at the corners of his mouth. 

"When Cas used his Grace on you, you seemed to… light up, for a minute. It looked like instead of going into you, it… I dunno, seemed to *envelope* you, like if it were hitting a barrier or something." Sam explained, brows furrowed as he searched for the words. "And suddenly, it was like you… *absorbed* it, like a sponge." He shrugged apologetically. "And then you passed out. Thankfully, Cas caught you before you hit the ground." 

I stared, wide-eyed. "So I have to assume that's not what usually happens." 

"No," Sam continued. "There's a glow but it's focused at the site of the injury, and then it's gone when Cas turns it off." 

I turned to Cas, unnerved by Sam’s explanation. "So do you have any idea what your Grace did to me?" 

"My Grace hasn't done anything TO you, " he clarified. "You've merely STORED it." 

"What, are you saying she's a… a friggin’ *Grace Battery*?" Dean sputtered. 

Cas considered the analogy. "Yes, I suppose you could say that." 

**************************************** 

"Ok, well, I guess I should head back and see if the experiment worked…" I said, tossing the empty paper plate from my sandwich in the trash. I drained the bottle of beer and it joined the paper plate. 

Jack, who had joined us in the kitchen after hearing the commotion, sighed, his shoulders drooping. "But you *just* got here!" he said plaintively. 

I sat next to him at the kitchen table, placing an arm over his shoulders and squeezing - very carefully, avoiding any direct skin contact. "Actually, I've been here almost as long as I was last time, you just missed most of it." I glanced at Cas and Sam. "For the experiment to be accurate, I should only spend about the same amount of time here as I did last time." 

Cas and Sam nodded in agreement, and the five of us rose and headed toward the gym and the mirrors there. 

Outside the gym, we paused and I turned to say my goodbyes. 

"Let us know when you get back." Sam reminded me, with a cautious hug. 

Good thing I only came up to the top of his flannel-covered ribcage. I gave his waist a big squeeze. "Of course, first thing." 

"And you report *anything* off, or unusual…" Dean commanded, pulling me into an equally careful hug as Sam released me. 

I breathed an exasperated sigh into his chest. "Yes, Dean, you'll be the first to know." Pulling back, I grinned into the green eyes, and he gave me a wink. 

Another quick hug for Jack. "Goodbye," he sighed, then perked up. "and next time, we can go back with you, right? So we can go to Disneyland?" 

I smiled and pat his shoulder. "I hope so. Still have some experimentation to do first." I glanced over his shoulder meaningfully at Sam, who nodded.

Dean caught the look and frowned, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to - I got the message. 

Be careful. 

Lastly, I turned to Cas. 

I was still awed by him, timid. Startling blue eyes met mine and I felt like he was looking right through me, could read every thought. 

I really hoped not, because that would be SO embarrassing. 

"Th-thank you, Cas." I managed to stammer out. "It was… so amazing to finally meet you." 

Placing hands on my shoulders, he once again held me at arm's length. "It was… amazing… to meet you as well." he said solemnly. 

Then a bright smile lit his face, eyes crinkling at the corners. I felt the warmth of that gaze like a bright beam of summer sun. "It was my pleasure. I'm very interested to see if our experiment worked." He pulled me into a hug, and this time I didn't need to be prompted to hug back. 

"Cas?" 

He released me, eyes questioning. I stepped back, looking down at my hands. I swore I could see faint blue sparks running over them… or was it my imagination? 

"Am I going… will I be able to touch anyone back home?" 

He smiled reassuringly. "I suspect the Grace will go dormant as soon as you cross the threshold into your world." Sam nodded in agreement. "Magic didn't work there, so it would be very surprising if Grace did." 

"And I just need it on this side as a buffer, right." I rolled my shoulders, moved my neck side to side, loosening up, preparing for the transition home. 

With a final wave goodbye, I turned and started toward the doorway to the gym. I began the process of envisioning my house - the feel of the carpet, the color and brightness of the bedroom overhead lights… 

I reached the doorway, and opened the door - 

And walked right into the doorway of my spare bedroom. 

I grinned. 

I didn't need mirrors anymore. 

******************************************************************************************* 

No sooner had I stopped on the other side of my spare bedroom doorway, my phone started to buzz with incoming messages. I fired up Twitter. 

@DWImpala67: Cee?

@DWImpala67: CEE?? Are you ok?? 

@ItSam1983: Celina! What happened? Did you make it?

@ItSam1983: You just… disappeared! 

@redbanshee: Hey guys, it's OK! I'm fine!

@redbanshee: I guess the Grace… I don't seem to need the mirror anymore… 

@_iamCastiel: That is an interesting development.

@DWImpala67: Oh thank… Good. That's good.

@DWImpala67: And, way to understate things there, Cas. 

@ItSam1983: I'm just glad you're ok. That was… unnerving to see. 

@redbanshee: Oh… oh no, did Jack see? Is he OK? Let him know I'm fine!

@ItSam1983: Jack's fine. In fact, he was positive you were ok.

@ItSam1983: Almost as if he could see you, or sense you or something. 

@_iamCastiel: I was also able to sense your safe arrival.

@_iamCastiel: I believe it's the Grace - even though it is dormant…

@_iamCastiel: Is it dormant? Have you touched anyone yet? 

@redbanshee: No, not yet. No one is home right now.

@redbanshee: What about my cats? That would be the same, right? 

@_iamCastiel: If the Grace is still active, it should react the same with any living creature.

@redbanshee: Ok hold on, let me go find one of the jerks. 

@redbanshee: OK, I pet the cat, no sparks or anything, so I guess it's dormant.

@redbanshee: I'll test again on my daughter when she gets home… very carefully!

@redbanshee: But even though it's dormant, you can still… detect it… me? 

@_iamCastiel: I can sense its presence. I can tell that its… not here, but elsewhere.

@_iamCastiel: Jack can as well. 

@IAmCalledJack: Hello! Cas is right, I can sense his Grace, in you.

@IAmCalledJack: You're so far away :( 

@redbanshee: Huh… well, I guess I won't be able to sneak over there anymore… 

@DWImpala67: Wait… you've been sneaking over here?

@ItSam1983: And not telling us? 

@redbanshee: NO! Of course not… when have I had the time?

@redbanshee: I SLEPT for an entire day and a half since you last saw me, remember?

@redbanshee: But now I really *can't*… can I? 

@_IAmCastiel: Sam and Dean would be unable to detect your presence here should you cross over without informing them.

@_IAmCastiel: Only Jack and I are able to do so. 

@DWImpala67: CAS. NOT HELPING.

@DWImpala67: Don't even think about coming over here alone, missy.

@ItSam1983: Yeah, what Dean said. No experimenting without us! 

@redbanshee: FINE, fine. Spoilsports.

@redbanshee: I’m a big girl, y'know. I have a sword and everything! 

@DWImpala67: Just… don't, ok? Please?

@DWImpala67: For me? 

@redbanshee: OK, Dean. For you. 

@ItSam1983: So how do you feel? Last time when you got back, you were very tired…

@redbanshee: Actually, I feel pretty good. Not tired at all.

@_IAmCastiel: But, to be prudent, we should wait to see how you feel tomorrow before pronouncing the experiment a success.

@redbanshee: Right, makes sense.

@redbanshee: OK guys, I've had an eventful day. I think I'm gonna go do something mundane, like read a book or something.

@redbanshee: Or maybe watch that show about your lives… 

@DWImpala67: GROAN.

@redbanshee: HAHA! Sorry, Dean.

@redbanshee: Love you! 

@DWImpala67: I know. :) 

#dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #fic #LookingGlass

[minuete-blog]

Philes’ Xmas Advent Calendar Prompt Day 25: Christmas Day

🎄 Merry Christmas!!!🎄

The very last advent prompt story is finally here. It is the first and only multichapter I’ve drafted for a series on AO3. Thank you to all who traveled through this journey of various degrees of angst (there were only 5 stories?) to the early msr fluff. Special thanks to @only-txf-fanart for the Advent Calendar Prompts. My writing muse came back in time to participate.

🎁 For those of you who haven't read the series, it can be found here. 🎁

❤️For those who just want to read the subtle romance that blossomed from this advent calendar series, read in this order: I’m Offering You The World, Last Minute, The RomCom Gift, and Christmas Offering. ❤️

Tagging @today-in-fic @txf-prompt-box

Christmas Offering

Chapter 1. Movie Missed

Scully feels warm and cozy as she sinks deeper into the couch. She hears Mulder calling her from a distance, strands of hair being swept away from her face with a gossamer touch. She hums in defiance, wraps the afghan blanket more securely around her.

“That won’t do.” She hears Mulder chuckle. She furrows her eyebrows and manages to crack open her eyes making out a blurry image of Mulder kneeling on the ground, his chin resting on the crook of his right elbow upon the couch, facing her at eye-level. He smiles softly.

“Hey there, Scully. The movie just ended.”

“What?” She asks confused, disoriented as she sits up, her hair plastered on the left side of her face. Pouting a little, still groggy from sleep, she remembers what happened. “I missed the movie?” Mulder nods and gets up off the ground to run his fingers along her left cheek and loosen the strands of hair stuck to her face. She thinks she felt a featherlight kiss on her left temple.

“Come on. Go freshen up. I’ll have coffee ready for you before you head out.”

“Mmkay,” she mumbles and untangles herself from the blanket. A few minutes later, she re-emerges from the bathroom looking somewhat awake and decent, her hair looking more windswept than bedhead. She can smell the pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen as she sits down on the couch to put on her boots. Mulder reappears in the living room, and hands Scully the travel mug he just gifted her a couple hours ago filled with coffee. She offers her thanks as he walks her to the door. She turns around.

“Mulder, are you sure you don’t want to come to my mom’s? You’re always welcomed.” He shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m good, Scully. I won’t be the best company considering how tired I feel.”

“Well, what are you going to do the rest of the day?”

“Once you leave, I intend to fully pass out since I hadn’t slept yet. I’ll be okay, Scully.” She frowns a little, looking up at him from behind her shoulder as she opens the door. Mulder leans against the door frame as she exits. “I kept you long enough away from your family. I need to be nice and share.” Scully gives him a small smile.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

“Merry Christmas, Scully.”

Chapter 2. Scully Christmas Gathering

Scully arrives at her mom’s home on time with 15 minutes to spare despite the fresh snowfall. She gulps down the last of the coffee in her travel mug before stepping out into the cold, and retrieves the large shopping bags containing the presents in the trunk and backseat of her car. Just when she reaches the front door, it suddenly opens revealing a man standing nearly six feet with ruddy brown hair and dark green eyes clad in a burgundy plaid shirt and jeans.

“Charlie?!” Scully exclaimed surprised and excited to see her little brother. She drops the bags and gives him a huge hug. He laughs.

“Hey, Sis.”

“That’s it?! A ‘hey, sis’ after years of not hearing from you, and you decide to show up on Christmas Day?!” She playfully punches him in the arm.

“Hey, now! You get photos of my whereabouts. They’re a small fortune, you know.” Scully rolls her eyes at him, though she’s not the least bit irritated by his remark. Her free-spirited brother found his true calling as a freelance photographer right after college, landing assignments every so often from travel guide magazine publishers.

“Those don’t count. You’re not even in them.”

“Yeah, but I took them.”

“I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“I know. Mom’s pissed at me right now for not telling her I’m in town. She’s upset that I won’t have any presents to unwrap. Come on, let me help you out.” Charlie reaches for the bags and brings them inside as Scully follows him to the tree. The house smells like holiday spices from the mulled spiced cider their mom prepared in the kitchen the night before. The living room looked picturesque with a roaring fireplace, complete with hung stockings and a fully decorated tree with all the ornaments handmade and collected over the years. She notices Melissa’s stocking with her favorite horse sleigh ornament hanging on the mantle. Scully smiles a small bittersweet smile as she heads over to the tree to place the gifts underneath. She sees a light flash from the corner of her eye.

“Charlie, really?” She turns to him only to be greeted with another flash of light.

“I’m creating memories, Dana. Just go about doing what you’re doing and pretend I’m not here.” She scoffs.

“Don’t worry, Dana. I’ll be turning off the flash once daylight breaks.” Scully hears footsteps coming down the stairs and sees their mom in cozy, festive flannel pajamas and a fluffy robe. Their mom smiles at the two of them beside the tree.

“I see you two are catching up. I’ll make some coffee. I already woke up Bill and Tara. They’re getting Matthew ready. The King’s Mass is held at 9 this morning. That should give us more than enough time to unwrap presents and get ready.” Their mom looked at them amused by their dubious expressions. Both Scully siblings seemed to have forgotten about the Christmas Day mass they hated attending as children. Bill hosted Christmas last year, and Scully’s previous holiday seasons had been overshadowed with life-altering events. Their mom shakes her head smiling as she heads to the kitchen.

“Shit! Crap! Sorry for cussing on Baby Jesus’ birthday. I totally forgot all about The King’s Mass. This is probably why I subconsciously avoided visiting during Christmas season,” Charlie murmured to Scully, “I guess I’ll have to don on some khakis.” He glances over at Scully, “and you look like you’re a government agent. Shouldn’t you dress in something more festive?” Scully shrugs.

“I packed an overnight bag, but I didn’t account for Mass this morning. I’ll be fine. I’m sure Tara or Mom bought me a nice scarf or something this year for me to throw on.”

Within the next couple of hours, the Scully family festivities went underway filled with chatter, coffee, spiced cider, cinnamon buns, and Christmas music playing in the background. Matthew is the main star as he wobbly walks to his Nana, allows Auntie Dana to hold him, and pats the shiny boxes that keep coming his way. Charlie stays in the background taking photographs. The adults exchange presents, with mostly Tara and their mom oohing and ahhing over presents they unwrap. Scully merely grins and offers her thanks until she opens a box from Tara that housed a royal blue blouse tunic with a scoop neckline. She gasps in amazement; she hears a click and shutter from Charlie’s camera.

“Looks like you have your festive outfit,” he says. Scully admits to her family that she plans to wear the tunic for mass as her family breaks out in laughter. She excuses herself to quickly change.

As Bill, Tara, and their mom get ready for mass, Scully tidies up the living room while Charlie entertains Matthew. “So what’s up with Fox? Why doesn’t he join us?” Scully looks at Charlie in surprise.

“He goes by Mulder and he doesn’t celebrate Christmas.” Charlie hums.

“I’ve been taking photos this whole morning, Dana. You’re here, but you’re not here. It shows.”

“I just have a lot on my mind.” Charlie shakes his head as he lets Matthew study his camera.

“No, you have this far-off look in your eyes. A restlessness about you. I recognize that look anywhere.”

“What are you trying to say, Charlie?” He purses his lips and shrugs, their conversation ending as they hear the rest of the family returning downstairs.

Bill rented an SUV that could transport all of them to the church, but Charlie insists that they take two cars.

“I wanna catch up with Dana!” Charlie announces as he runs to the passenger side door.

“Really, Charlie? I’m tired of driving,” Scully whines, but she walks to the driver’s side and unlocks her car.

Chapter 3. The King’s Mass

The Kings’ Mass at St. Mary’s Church was full of generational families much like the Scully clan. Their mom waved at many of the churchgoing ladies, offering well wishes and season’s greetings as she led them to her usual pew. Tara, Matthew, and Bill sat in the row first, followed by their mom, Scully, then Charlie. The service started with the usual procession of the pew boys, then the priest, Father Bennett, and the deacons. They had a larger than usual choir having some of the Sunday School children participating in today’s service. Just when the priest welcomed everyone to the church and encouraged all to greet their fellow brothers and sisters, Charlie turns to Scully and says, “I think you should head back home after service.”

“What?” she hissed through a fake grin as she waves at a family two pews ahead.

“You heard me, Sis. Just go.” Scully gives him a look as she sits down waiting to listen to the choir sing before the liturgy. Charlie pesters her again when they stand up to recite the hymns from the church bulletin. He causes enough commotion for their mom to give them a pointed look. Scully glances at her apologetically.

“You two are worse than Matthew,” she whispers leaning back for the two to see Matthew passed out in Bill’s arms. They sit back down again for the sermon after a deacon recited Isaiah 9:6 where Father Bennett spoke in detail of the miraculous birth of their Lord and Savior, symbolizing hope and love to mankind, but not without the struggles and sacrifice that Joseph and Mary had to endure to travel to Bethlehem.

“...so let us be reminded of His enduring love for us as we celebrate his arrival with loved ones. To not forget the road traveled for all of us to be here in this room. Let us honor his arrival with a giving spirit, full of compassion and empathy towards our fellow man,” Father Bennett concluded, “Now, as we begin communion, let us feel His loving spirit surround us.”

“Now’s your chance, Dana,” Charlie says as the pew rows were systematically dispersing to line up for communion, “Just make a break for it. You heard what Father Bennett said ‘celebrate with loved ones.’”

“I am celebrating with loved ones!” she responds a little too loudly as they stand at the ready for the church volunteer to beckon them to get in line.

“Mom, can you talk some sense into Dana, please?” Charlie says turning around giving their mom a knowing look, “I know you saw what I saw this morning. You can’t deny it.” She sighs in resignation, lips pressed together.

“Dana, I’m glad we got to spend time with you this morning, but Charlie’s right-- a part of you isn’t with us, it’s someplace else.” She gives Scully a fierce hug. “We’ll see you later this week. Charlie is staying for a couple more days before he flies out to the Netherlands. Now, go. You have some matters to attend to.” Scully’s eyes turn glassy as she manages not to cry. She smiles against her mom’s shoulder and gives her a quick peck on the cheek. She mouths and waves goodbye to Bill and Tara who each had a curious expression on their faces. Charlie gives her a quick hug and waves goodbye to her as he stands aside to let her out of the pew. She can hear Bill asking their mom where she’s going, and her mom answering that she has to attend to matters of love. Scully walks out of the church with one destination in mind.

Chapter 4. Give vs. Offer

It seems that no one left Hegal Place as Scully had to park a block away nearby a liquor store. She quickly runs into the store and purchases some items for the day. The afternoon weather is nippy, but tolerable with a heavy coat she had placed in the back of her car as she briskly walks on the sidewalk, being careful not to slip. She doesn’t know whether Mulder is at his place or not; it didn’t occur to her to give him a call during her trip. The early snowfall that morning had covered all the parked cars, making it difficult to identify which car is his. She finally arrives at his building, promptly taking off the heavy coat from the extreme temperature change. She knows her hair looks unkempt again from the weather as she takes the elevator up to the fourth floor. She can’t decide whether her heart was rapidly beating from the brisk walk or the notion that Mulder might not be home. Scully raps on the door sharply, causing the “2” in “42” to be slightly askew. To her relief, she hears muffled footsteps behind the door. The door cracks open revealing a disheveled Mulder dressed in sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He braces himself against the door frame with his right forearm as he rubs his eyes. His left hand still on the doorknob.

“Scully? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your family?” he asks in a gravelly voice, eyes squinting from the hallway light. She realizes she must have woken him up from his sleep. His eyes come into focus, and she can see him take in her appearance. “Is this how you usually dress at family gatherings? Maybe I should accompany you next time you go.” She feels a blush forming on her cheeks.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about the movie this entire morning,” she says, averting her gaze away from Mulder’s form, staring down at her boots. “It’s been bothering me, how Sandra Bullock’s character is in love with what looks like a huge asshole.” She looks up at him slightly flustered, “And Mulder! Even if I had watched ‘While You Were Sleeping’, I wouldn’t have caught on with the line you misquoted. The character’s mom gave her dad the world, which by the way is not a snow globe but a regular globe. So, I can only deduce that the actual line is ‘I give you the world’ not ‘I offer you the world.’” Mulder looks amused.

“To be fair, Scully, I only watched the movie once on cable. I thought I got the gist of the phrase, especially when paired with the snow globe I grabbed at Grand Rapids to show you. It appears much later in the movie by the way.”

“But ‘give,’ and ‘offer’ are two very different words, Mulder,” she continues, “Their meaning is completely different in context. ‘I give’ means that there are no strings attached to this phrase, no conditions set in place, while ‘I offer’ allows the other party a chance to accept or decline the option.” Scully knows she’s rambling, but she can’t stop herself. She holds up the plastic bag in her hands.

“For instance, I’m offering you this bag full of items I purchased at the corner liquor store. It contains components to make delicious hot chocolate—you still owe me hot chocolate, Mulder--”

“Of all the things to begrudge me for, it’s hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate, milk, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, marshmallows, and peppermint sticks. And since it’s around lunch time, I even purchased some gourmet frozen dinners because I know the state of your fridge and pantry, Mulder. A man can’t suffice on sunflower seeds alone.” Mulder’s grinning at this point. He unbraces himself from the door frame and reaches for the bag, but Scully holds it away from him.

“Mulder, this is an offer. Offers usually come with conditions from the party presenting it.”

“State your conditions then, Scully.” He drawls as he leans against the door frame crossing his arms.

“I want you to be the one to prepare hot chocolate for the both of us. I also want to finish watching the movie. I want to see how Sandra Bullock’s character goes from thinking she’s in love with an asshole to falling in love with Bill Pullman’s character.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Mulder’s eyes shone brightly as he stared at her intently. Her eyes slightly widened at his question. He straightens himself up and fully opens the door. He motions with his head as he says, “Get in here, Scully.”

She exhales a breath as she crosses the threshold. Mulder murmurs, “I was thinking about you all morning too” as he closes the door behind her.

#my fic #hooray #it’s finished #advent calendar prompt #day 25 #Christmas Day #romcom trope #msr #kinda

[krakenator]

CHAPTER 1 aka “Stranger Danger”

I’m rereading The Property of Hate by @modmad and overanalyzing it to hell and back because i can’t stop thinking about the story and getting madder and madder about the PUNS I keep finding. I’m scratching the itch and trying to find All The Details. Current plan is just to go chapter by chapter, feel free to chime in with stuff I miss! There’ll be a masterpost up soon linking everything in one spot

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally. Masterpost

Okay, so just a million things right off the bat on page fucking one

‘The Hook’ is of course a term for the beginning of a story. Grabbing one’s attention and convincing them to go off on an adventure, so to speak

Speechboxes! Everybody’s got their own distinctive ‘way of speaking’ in this story. RGB’s are rectangular, but those straight edges are offset by these really loopy, meandering, and elegant speech tails. It’s just. Such immediate characterization.

Like, even the pose. The way RGB introduces himself by crouching on her drawers like an incredibly dapper gremlin. It creates a similar contrast to his speechbubbles- prim and proper existing simultaneously with fae and kinda ridiculous

So considering we’ve got a fairly detailed picture of roses up on Hero’s wall on the comics opening page I think we can assume this is some type of Important maybe. Just off the top of my head, isn’t the rose Englands national flower? IDK how relevant that is outside of RGB being incredibly, incredibly British

Oh god damnit I just scrolled down to go to the next page and fffFFFUCKING BLUE ROSES ON THE BUTTONS okay. Blue rose symbolism! They don’t exist naturally. You won’t just find one in the wild outdoors, so they represent the impossible, the mysterious and achievable.

Seeing blue roses right off the bat = important story theme probably. Impossible dreams are my first thought. RGB’s seemingly hopeless plan to save a world everyone else has given up to be doomed. Hero’s wish to go the fuck back home please after she’s had her fill of deadly adventure. RGB and Hero are setting out to achieve the impossible, defeat Her, and save the World of Make Believe

Last point for the first page; RGB’s drool. Except it’s not drool, we later learn it’s equivalent to blood, and he bleeds emotions he’s feeling. While recruiting Hero, RGB’s prominent feelings are, unsurprisingly in hindsight, a fair load of sadness but tinged with a dose of cheer. His last Hero failed, and every single one before that, but he’s still daring to have hope, the absolute madman. What he’s actually dripping most though is what looks like curiosity- it may be mixed with a bit of anger, which I wouldn’t begrudge the guy. Angry that he has to start over, again, angry that his world is dying, angry that he’d the only one doing anything about it

Ok but imagine you woke up to find a man crouched on your bedside table smiling this super-wide “TRUST ME!! :)” smile and blood dribbling out of it and welling up between the teeth. Like, I’m laughing, but I’d be screaming

OKAY BUT FINALLY WE’RE PAST THE FIRST PAGE. We get a clear look at Hero’s drawings taped to the wall, and check it- one kinda looks like the Idea they run into a few chapters ahead. The other picture might also be showing the House of Paint? I mean, there’s a sun there so that’s off, but the clouds and steps leading up to Madras’ door look right

And now we get Hero’s speechboxes! They’re circular in contrast to RGB’s boxes, and colored orange. The balloon tails don’t loop-de-loop all over the page like RGBs but they’re not ‘standard’ either- there’s always this little jag to them closer to the text

RGB’s speechbubbles are actually one of the plainest/most conventional in the entire story

Excluding the tails of course. Those never ever take the most direct or efficient path to his face. Yeah, it adds an impression of silliness, but also speaks to the fact that RGB takes creative and weird solutions out of situations. I’ll laugh about the entire Click arc later but like really. REALLY. RGB DID ALL OF THAT

I love how Hero’s first actual words to RGB send him immediately into ?????????????. He keeps up this huge grin for most of The Hook and this is the first time his “I’m your friendly neighborhood TV nothing to see here!!” demeanor gets shaken up

the ladder hurts Hero’s feet, so why does she sleep on the top bunk? The bottom bunk doesn’t have any bedding on it so it’s not like she’s regulated to the top by any kind of sibling dibs

Weird... weird detail to be showing us modmad..... 

“Are you a monster?” “the very worst one” that’s a lotta blue dripping off yer chin there, stop crying

The mom is a character for two (2) seconds and even she gets her own unique speechbox; blue, fuzzy and barely connected, which does a really great job of communicating that she’s basically still asleep without ever having to see her

‘happy boi about to bring newest kidnapping to the sky world’

That’s a Mary Poppins reference, that is. RGB exclaiming ‘spit spot!’ earlier also got be thinking of Poppins

Clouds look so fluffy out of airplane windows, I’m honestly jealous

Doors! Gotta wonder where they all lead. Gotta wonder if they’ll get more use past this outside Hero’s recovery Time

I’ve just spend like 15m trying to figure out what the symbols above the doors are and I THINK it’s alchemy? “libra sign upside down” is luckily an easily searchable term, and that symbol in particular is for gas becoming liquid

I think the door beyond that has the alchemical symbol for gold? I’m not having luck on the others, including the door they actually go through here/its sister door Hero opens after the Elastic Valley fiasco.

RGB are you pissed that you had to tell this kid your name yourself? Are you upset about manners?? She’s like 7 dude cmon have you met a 7 year old. Thinking about it, possibly not, all the confirmed Other Heroes are definitely older- they all come across to me as adults

well, actually, who even knows how old Assok is. They might be the exception

The little ‘peephole’ eye popping open when the right key is close is nice atmospheric detail, but it kinda makes me wonder if there’s a person like. Seeing out of that eye. Whether someone gets a little notification every time one of these doors is opened

It’s the World of Make Believe! Stupendous! Break-taking! Modmad is exceptional at colors and beautiful environments full of personality! Hero’s last chance to turn back is gone!

Hero only being awake for 20 minutes before becoming Instantly Tired = biggest actual mood, my god. Me too sweetie

Except I can’t blame trees. And a sort of magical jet-lag effect. Yo, are sleeping tree’s making you sleepy the same sorta thing where when one person yawns everyone yawns

I just really like how this tail loops around RGB’s physical actual legs. It makes it seem like speech is a tangible thing that interacts with the world and that you could, like, touch or something. all it’s missing is a shadow

God, fuck me. That’s the yellow brick road. God dammit. Son of a bitch.

RGB, pg 14: do not touch me, do not look at me, don’t speak to me, you have tentative permission to breathe

RGB from the Market onwards: carries her multiple times (admittedly, almost always exactly like you shouldn’t), picks her up, swings her around, hugs her when she’s scared of the dark, ‘I Have Longer Legs, Hop On’ piggybacks, protecting her by putting his own bod in harms way, general Manhandling of Child

I kid, I kid, it’s more complex than that. For one, RGB doesn’t want Hero getting hurt cause she’s Important and has Heroing she can’t do if she’s injured. Second, that whole “don’t get attached” thing gets thrown out the window on like day 2

“I’ve only known Hero for a day and a half but if anything happened to her I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself”

RGB is honestly... super bad at not attaching to people. honestly, actually terrible at it

Ooh! Those flowers! I didn’t realize those always happen when Hero’s sleeping. They also look like she’s drawn them herself! That’s honestly… lethally adorable

Fun fact technicolor dream shell snail changes colors every panel

RGB bleeds static? What emotion is that? I dig it, unconscious is an emotion and i feel it in my soul

w...white noise.... god DAMMIT

ey, the tree’s look different in the light of day- all those blurry fairy light ‘leaves’ are gone now. 

!! Hero glows the exact same way when she’s asleep! RGB, however, is not. Tree’s have leaves when they dream, huh

oh god tree’s have LEAVES when they DREAM

...we’ll come back to this thought when we get to the sick sun tree cause that thing is a whole other can of Lore worms

In a different direction, there must be some sort of difference between Tree Dreaming and People Dreaming, because dreaming trees do NOT trigger RGB’s weird stuntman nightmares

these particular trees are also see-through; i can’t remember if they’re all like this throughout the world? will have to pay attention and see

oh- OH. also just made the connection for why trees provide a saf(er) haven- bottled nightmares will very shortly be used to dispel fears. Dreams repel Fears! It’s best to sleep near tree’s because just you dreaming might not be enough to keep things at bay while your rest

And the chapter’s finished off with a new character and new speechbox to go with it! It’s the first to use a different font and text color to our main characters

Honestly though, what is UP with the Butterfly? It’s clearly keeping close tabs on them, and only speaks to Hero when RGB is unconscious or otherwise occupied. It clearly doesn’t wanna be seen by him, which is shady. It shows up like twice? And the other time RGB and Hero don’t even know it’s there and listening. Between that and the Eyes, like… does it have it’s own agenda and interests or is it an agent of Hate? Idk man maybe I’ll pick up on more Butterfly stuff on this readthrough

*notices that the plant it was resting on withers once it flies away* ... that’s no good. especially if that butterfly can do the same to trees

...... ah. it kinda can. Consider, please, Hate’s likely role in the demise of the Sun, and Her confirmed ability to smother them in [-----]

Butterfly’s parting words: “be wise”. Hero’s next and immediate action: doodle RGB’s face

And that’s the Hook! Join me next time when Hero has a fun play date with some new friends everything goes wrong almost instantly.

#tpoh #the property of hate #tpoh meta #the specific tag for this adventure will be... #tpoh time with Gill #i assure all of you i make these posts out of love

[supersaiyansadie]

Other Lies Excerpt: The Zoo and the Pregnancy Test

I might set Past/Prologue aside and start re-editing this one 

Anyway! Here’s another excerpt from Allison’s story!

Enjoy!

Tag list: @editedandwrittenbyhannah and I nominated @thepotatowearsprada

to my tag list. (if either of you want of, let me know, ok?)

Length: 3000 words (roughly)

The next few weeks were hectic. I was able to pull my head out of my worries long enough to study for finals. Finals week fell two weeks before Maria and I’s birthday, so we started bugging Mom and Dad to do something special. We were turning 21 this year, a very special occasion if you liked alcohol. I wasn’t really a drinker, so it was just another birthday.

The campus sprung into bloom all around us. Flowers adorned every tree and bush that’d stand it. The campus lit up with color. Pink, blue, purple, you name it. The day of my Physics final, Coltin came into the room with a bouquet of freshly picked flowers for me. He hadn’t spoke to me in a week. I figured he was still a little pissed about what I said in lab. Still, we started talking again before the final. He asked me to go out with him after finals were over.

I finished off the semester, I felt, as strong as I’d started it. Sure, there was a bit of a bump in the road that had thrown me, but I got back to normal. Well… not normal. The nightmares were still happening with alarming regularity. Despite all my attempts to stave it off, I was still worrying myself sick. Most days, I ended up puking up my guts. I’d missed my period. I tried telling myself that I had just worried too much. Periods could be missed because of stress, right?

Maria dove into her studies more ferociously than I had. She’d been tripped up by what happened, too, but her classes were so much harder than mine. Intermediate Differential Equations, Intermediate Microeconomics, Linear Algebra, to name a few. I’d made the mistake of looking over her shoulder while she was working on her Differential Equations study guide. It was a math class, I knew, but I don’t think I saw any actual numbers. Just looking at it made my head hurt.

Maria was my best friend (don’t tell Jenna), and had been since we’d burst into this world, but I only just realized how much smarter she was than me. Still, she’d slacked off for a minute there trying to help me. Between that and how hard her classes were, she spent most of her home time during the last few weeks of the semester pouring over study guides and practice problems. Most nights, she fell asleep at the table, mid-problem.

Without Maria in the room with me, I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know how much of it was that we’d shared a room for forever and how much was the fact that I didn’t want to wake up from a nightmare and find myself alone. The last few weeks of the school year, I went to sleep in the living room. One morning, I woke up on the couch and Maria was passed out on the recliner. She’d covered me in a blanket before she crashed.

The week after finals, nearly a month after I woke up on the bathroom floor, I went back to the doctor for another round of tests. The day after, Mom and Dad surprised us with a birthday trip to the Memphis Zoo. Our birthday wasn’t going to be until the week after, but Mom and Dad both had grad students defending their dissertations on that day. The plan was for us to go out to dinner that night, but the trip had to be early.

I loved the zoo, let’s just get that clear. I loved animals of all shapes and sizes. Lions, tigers, snakes, spiders, it really didn’t matter to me. Except roaches. Roaches still bothered me, but every other type of animal was cool. Maria was not quite the animal lover I was. She liked the cute fluffy animals, but the creepy crawlies? Nah, she couldn’t stand them. It may have had something to do with how many times I “forgot” my pet tarantula in her bed when we were twelve. She ended up getting the last laugh. Peter (that was the spider’s name, Peter Parker) had gotten tired of Maria’s screams, I guess, cause one day he ran away. I was inconsolable.

So, the Tuesday after finals were over, the four of us got up early and climbed in the car. For once in my life, Dad let Maria and I control the radio. I think that was the first time the radio had left the oldies channel since the oldies were released. Maria put in her Christina Aguilera CD and sang along the entire trip. Every now and then, I’d join in on one of the hits, but most of the trip consisted of me staring out of the window, trying to quiet my thoughts.

Occasionally, out of the corner of my eye, I’d catch Maria give me a despondent glance. I knew she was worried about me, just like I knew my parents were. They didn’t press the issue, but they were keeping a closer eye on me. I had been hoping that once all my tests came back negative and I was in the clear that everything would settle down. I wanted things to go back to normal. Part of me knew that “normal” was a bit much to ask for, but maybe something next to normal would be sufficient for now.

I had been going to therapy every week, like Mom suggested. I was able to start vocalizing some of the things I’d been feeling, but I didn’t like therapy. I always left my appointments feeling worse than I did when I arrived. I told Mom that, and she nodded.

“It makes sense.” She’d said.

“It does?” I’d asked. “How’s that?”

“Well, if you were dealing with everything, you wouldn’t need therapy.” She had explained. “The only way to get better is to deal with things, which can be unpleasant. Ergo, if you go to therapy and actually work at it, you probably won’t feel great leaving your appointments.”

After an hour on the road, we pulled into the zoo parking lot. The front of the zoo had a beige archway fifty feet high, or so it seemed. Lining the walkway to the gates were larger than life animal facsimiles. I vaguely remembered the last time we came here. Maria and I were barely as big as the lion‘s paw. The realization that I was that small once unnerved me a little.

The zoo was packed. School was out for the year, and all the parents must have been tired of their kids already. I couldn’t get comfortable. Every time somebody walked past me, a chill ran up my spine. I hadn’t been around so many people since… I don’t even know. I kept glancing over my shoulder. Maria must have noticed cause she took my hand. I pulled it away. She frowned, but backed off.

“So, which way should we go?” My dad asked, once we were inside. Before I could answer, my cell phone rang. I held up a finger and hurried out of earshot. I could feel my family’s eyes on me.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hi, is this Allison Evans?” The lady asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hi, Allison. This is Marietta Jackson from the Ole Miss Health Center.” She said. “I’m calling about the tests we did yesterday.”

“Yeah?” I asked. I looked back at my family. Maria was watching me. She fiddled with her charm bracelet. Mom and Dad were looking over the Zoo map, planning the day’s activities.

“I have your test results here,” She went on. “As for your STD screens, all the tests came back negative.”

The pressure around my heart released a little bit. No STDs. That’s good.

“And for the pregnancy test?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

“As for that one, that came out positive. Congratulations.”

Do you ever get those moments where it feels like the world stops around you? Moments where a second feels like a minute or an hour? That’s how I felt at that moment. Congratulations? I wanted to laugh, cry, scream, and curse all at the same time. That asshole couldn’t control himself and… now what? Pregnant… I was pregnant. What am I going to do? I pressed a hand to my stomach.

“Ms. Evans?” The nurse asked. I snapped my phone shut, and hurried to the bathroom.  I hesitated at the door, my heart fluttering wildly. I could feel his hand clamp down on my shoulder again. A woman pushed past me. I clenched my fist and went in. I barricaded myself in a stall.

It was supposed to be over. They were supposed to tell me I was negative for everything. I couldn’t be pregnant. How could this happen? I asked myself. I felt my eyes get hot. I choked the tears down. No. I told myself. I couldn’t break down now. I couldn’t be pregnant. I couldn’t be. Hail Mary, full of grace… Blessed virgin, please let this be a false positive. That happened sometimes, right?

“Allison?” Maria’s voice wafted through the bathroom, echoing slightly. I prayed that my voice wouldn’t crack.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Is everything ok?” She asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” I lied. “I just… really had to go.”

“Was that-” I heard her moving around. After the noises stopped, she started again, softer this time. “Was that the doctor?”

“Uh, no. Telemarketer. They don’t take no for an answer.”

I pulled myself together, as best as I could, and joined my family outside. Mom and Dad had decided the best path to take to hit all the prime spots. Near the entrance area, there was a fountain spewing water into a small in-ground pool. A dozen children, or more, were splashing around in the pool, enjoying the beautiful weather.

How many of them are going to grow up and hurt others? I wondered. How many of them are going to grow up and get hurt? Beaten? Broken by somebody they weren’t aware existed? I looked over at the parents, standing in the shade of the nearby gazebo, taking pictures of their babies. How many of them wanted their kids at the point I’m at? How many want them now?

Maria jostled my shoulder, snapping me back to reality. She followed my gaze. She looked after Mom and Dad. After deciding that they were sufficiently far enough away, she turned back to me.

“It’s going to be fine.” She said. “Don’t worry. You’re probably not pregnant.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” She admitted. “I guess I’m just hoping.”

“Girls!” Mom called back. They were nearly a hundred feet down the path, already. “Hurry up, we’ve got a lot to see.”

“Just… try to enjoy the zoo.” Maria said. “Nothing you can do about it now, right?”

I nodded. Maria moved to grab my hand, but stopped herself.  We hurried after our parents. Mom and Dad wanted to get the creepy crawlies out of the way first, it seemed. They lead us to the insectarium and the reptile room first. Maria waited outside both sections. Despite my worries, I found myself grinning. I loved spiders and snakes and komodo dragons (though there were no komodo dragons here, I was sad to learn.)

“I still can’t understand how you can find those things cute.” Maria said, as Mom, Dad, and I exited the insectarium.

“I mean people find you cute, so…” I said.

“Hey, you look the same as I do.” She shot back.

“Really?” I asked, suppressing a smile. “Is that how this whole identical twin thing works? I’ve never been good at Bio.”

Maria giggled and stuck her tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes. After the insects, we made a bee line (no pun intended) for the Asia exhibit. I turned a corner and smacked into a woman.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I said. She rubbed her protruding belly. “Oh. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She said, winking at me. “He’ll live.”

“How do you…?”

“I can tell. I don’t know how.” She said. “I just can.”

She flashed a smile, and headed off. She was so blithe about it. Sure, she was going to have a baby, but she was happy about it. I realized with a start that some people wanted babies. The concept seemed so foreign to me. I hugged myself, lost in thought.

“It’s a panda!” Maria squealed, seeing a panda. “Oh, my god, he’s so adorable.”

Future ruler of the world, ladies and gents. Maria, I’d learned in my 21 years of knowing her, was a strong independent young lady who had very few weaknesses. Cute things were number one. Any time she got within five feet of puppies, cats, squirrels, and babies she’d turn into a squealing, gibbering, mess of a girl.

Her eyes lit up as a smile broke across her face. For weeks now, she’d seemed so serious. Between stressing out about finals and worrying over me, her smile had been tainted with her troubles. She never seemed to let herself be happy any more. I’d started worrying about her. I’d never tell her that, though. She’d say I was being over dramatic. Still, seeing her in a moment of pure uncontained joy… It was refreshing.

When we were able to pull Maria away from the panda enclosure, we headed toward Primate Canyon. Everywhere I looked, little kids ran around, excited. Mothers pushed strollers through the walkways, every now and then bringing out the little ones to see an animal. I hugged myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mom and Dad exchange a worried look.

Stop it, girl. I told myself. Stop ruining the day. I didn’t like people worrying about me on a normal day, but we came to the zoo to have fun. I didn’t want to kill the mood.

“So, Dad.” I started. “You know anything about gorillas?”

“A fair few things.” He replied.

“You know why they have such big nostrils right?” I asked. He shook his head, brow creased. “It’s cause they have big fingers.”

All three of them looked at me, bewildered. When it hit them, all the tension broke. Dad took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, groaning. Mom leaned against the wall laughing at my Dad’s expression. Maria rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile. I started laughing at them all. It was like a valve busted inside me or something. I’d been so stressed for the past month. Now that I was laughing, I couldn’t stop.

I kept giggling sporadically as we went through the monkey zone. When we got to the gorillas, I started laughing hard again. Mom put her arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. My muscles tensed up, but I didn’t pull away this time. Don’t make them worry. Dad kept giving me amused looks. Maria grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers.

Dad, not to be outdone in the horrible joke department, kept cracking puns all through the zoo.

“Never play poker with these cats, they’re all cheetahs.”

“Oh, my god.”

“…and so he said, with friends like these, who needs anemones?”

“Dad!” Maria groaned. I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. “Stop encouraging him.”

“Why are Owls so lonely? They’re owl by themselves.”

“Mitch.” Mom chided, but she was grinning.

We finished the zoo around five o’clock and clambered into the car. We stopped for dinner at Outback Steakhouse. Maria and I took half the booth, the old people took the other half.  I sat sideways in the booth seat, my back pressed against the wall. I folded my leg under me. Dad excused himself to the bathroom not long after we’d gotten there. He returned a few minutes later with a couple of glasses of red wine. He passed one to me and the other to Maria.

“Well, you’re not technically of age, yet.” He said with a wink. “But don’t tell anyone, and I won’t.”

Maria sipped her wine and grimaced. “Oh god, that’s strong.”

Oh, please. I thought. Maria had always been a bit of a party girl. I highly doubted that this was her first time tasting red wine.

I grabbed my glass, but hesitated. I rubbed my belly. Isn’t alcohol bad when you’re pregnant? Mom and Dad were watching me. Maria looked over, and nudged me playfully.

“Come on. It’s not that bad.” She said. “I’m just a drama queen.”

I muttered something about needing air, pushed past Maria, and hurried out of the restaurant. Out on the patio, I leaned my back against the wall and slid to the ground. Why does my life suck? I thought. I pulled my knees to my chest. Maria came out a moment later.

“Hey,” She said. “You still worried about the pregnancy thing?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Look, you can have a glass of wine.” She said. “Besides, I doubt you’re pregnant. You got your period, right?”

I shook my head. Maria’s eyes went wide, but she kept her composure.

“Look, you can miss your period for a lot of things. It could be stress.”

“That’s what I told myself.” I said, my voice was barely a whisper.

“So, listen to yourself. You’re probably fine. When’s the doctor supposed to call?”

“He called already.”

“What?” Maria narrowed her eyes. “Is that the call? The one you got at the zoo?”

I nodded.

“And?”

I nodded again. Maria pursed her lips.

“You told me it was a telemarketer.” She said, her voice shaking. She squeezed her knee until her knuckles were white.

“Yeah.”

Maria got up and stormed inside. I felt a tear roll down my face. I wiped it away and forced the rest down. I couldn’t be weak. My family was waiting for me inside. Don’t ruin their day. I told myself. Don’t let them suspect anything. I sat there a few minutes. Finally, I got back on my feet and headed in to the table.

“Sorry about that.” I said. “Just got a little hot.”

Mom and Dad stared at me, all humor gone. Maria was nowhere to be seen. Shit. “Allison, is there something you want to tell us?” Mom asked.

#other lies #my writing #writeblr #allison #maria #I actually really like this chapter #there may be a few things to touch up #but it's in good condition considering

[seekthemist]

You would even say it glows

As I promised, here I come with my @pynchsecretsanta 2017 fill! All my love and all my best wishes for the holidays to @mild-lunacy <3

This little tale of madness is on the themes of "the Adventure with the Once and Future Camaro" + "A weird guest needs help at 300 Fox Way and the boys are involved". It’s also the first "creative" stuff that I manage to write, away from the terrible, terrible grip of academic obligations. It has been amazing to come back to fandom my heart out, I hope it's not in a weird style because of "residual technical writing"-mode! Everything it's sadly unbetaed at the moment, so forgive and forget the typos, I swear I'll update a corrected version if I can!

All my thanks go to Sae (@picapicae​), that helped me come up with this crazy plot you just read and the Pynch SecretSanta ‘17 team that organized this amazing gig!

Now, off with the reading, mostly under the cut for length!

You can also read this on Ao3!

Adam first jostled awake in total darkness, which given the early winter days could mean anything from three to seven o'clock in the morning. The reflexive switch of his brain that decided to pull his eyes open — governed by a circadian cycle Adam destroyed for himself in high school and did not realign in a semester at Columbia — was compatible with any of these options. He inhaled, gearing up to remember if there had been an alarm on the other side of his slumber, waiting from him to go to work, outline an assignment or grab breakfast while networking with his peers. His breath reverberated humid on his lips, filling his nostrils with a suggestion of smells.

Wood. A familiar sweat. Holly and musk. An impression of heat.

Adam did not open his eyes but allowed himself to exhale, bodily, resting his forehead on Ronan's nape.

Details slotted into position in an easy catalogue, disorienting in their lack of urgency.

Cold ears, a suggestion of chill from the world that somehow existed outside of the cocoon of blankets and duvet. The impossible span of Ronan's shoulders, radiating heat, and the inside of his knees brushing against Adam's. The soft, oblivious breathing of Ronan in his sleep — impossible to match in its pace, and yet Adam caught himself trying.

It was weird to be back. He should probably get up.

Ronan reached for Adam's hand where it lingered on the fabric of his shirt, and tucked it close to his chest with a deep sigh. He did not move further and his breath didn't waver.

It was good to be back. There was no rush to go anywhere.

Adam slotted his body better in their puzzle, plastering against Ronan's back. Comfortable bed and an unyielding body to hold.

He had not planned to go back to sleep, but the warmth made the back of his eyelids heavy and tingling. It was easier to burrow down and let the warmth doze him off again, after all.

********

The second awakening came to a bedroom pooled with indistinct grey light and the mattress jumping around asymmetrically. Adam's eyes were wide awake, heart pounding, before even he consciously realized it himself.

The mattress stopped moving, and an uncoordinated clattering of hooves traced its way on the wooden floor all the way down the corridor.

"Opal!" Adam protested, trying to get up and convince his tongue to come up with an appropriate reproach.

Ronan was splayed on top of him, heavy like a very seductively shaped brick and just as reluctant to being moved, so neither happened. Nor did Opal offer a distant string of unconvincing apologies mixed with complaints for having woke them up so brutally, as she usually would.

The clattering expanded all the way to the ground floor of the Barns and then suddenly quieted.

"Opal!" Adam stressed again, turning his head above Ronan's, still resting between his chest and shoulders.

"What?!" Opal's voice came from the direction of Matthew's bedroom, groggy and grumpy with sleep.

"Shit" Ronan mumbled, reproachful.

Too heavy and too unmoving, even for Adam to be distracted by the way their legs were twisted together.

"Ronan, what the hell did you just dreamt?"

All things considered, a regular morning in the Lynch household.

********

"But how can you not know what you were dreaming, exactly?"

Ronan scratched the buzzed hair on his nape, sliding down the stairs with more elegance that should be legal for someone who couldn't even move a muscle five minutes before.

"Parrish, I'm not grocery shopping when I'm dreaming!"

"Except when you are, I have to hide that heater every time my roommate is around because it heats like a nuclear reactor!"

"That college room is fucking freezing, what is your point?" Ronan gave him a stinky eye while putting on a random pair of socks and bolted out of the door without even shoes on. In the sudden burst of cold that soared through the open door, the black line of he tattoo, visible around the hem of a too-thin t-shirt, rippled like the surface of a lake in a skipping stones game. "Mary mother of Jesus..."

Adam did his best to provide Ronan with a masterful execution of an unimpressed gaze, picking up a coat from the rack before following him outside in the porch. It was as cold as Ronan’s mumbled string of swears could suggest, and missing the bed was all too easy. "My point is that we’re rushing to chase this stuff out in the cold but we don’t even know what it is."

The indiscernible mixture of frost and actual snow crackled under Ronan’s hobbling down the steps, uncharacteristically awkward in the clear attempt not to freeze his feet off. "It doesn't fucking matter, it's like an animal."

"Like what animal?" Adam feigned disinterest, even in the clear smell of attempted deflection in the winter morning air. He still followed Ronan down towards the front of the master house, where a trail of something that looked like hooves disappeared in the thin layer of snow all the way out in the field. The imprints were too big to be Opal’s, too small for a monstrosity like the night horror. None of the Barn’s animal where around, shied away in their carefully curated inside spaces, evidently wiser than the both of them.

"A horse? Another fucking goat? An oversized crazy sheep?" Ronan dragged his words, scrutinizing the field in a studious effort to avoid Adam’s gaze. He kicked on clump of frozen ground and swore again when his feet reminded him of the lack of shoes.

“Nice guesses for the hooves,” Adam mused, closing the distance with Ronan’s back and propping the forearms on his shoulders. “Are we freaking out about an oversized crazy sheep?”

“We are not freaking the fuck out.”

Adam’s smile stretched his skin against the cold air. “Good to know. Especially since you’re the one who told me that your dream animals tend not to leave the Barns.” He eyed Ronan sideways, but got no obvious reaction but a tilt of his head to brush towards him. His blue eyes were still facing forwards to where the trail disappeared, his breath fogging out slightly. “We either go back now or I’ll drop the task of amputating your feet onto Gansey.”

A snarl opened up at the idea, all white teeth and morning stubble, evidently entertained. “The lecture for something like that would be a damn trip.” Ronan turned around and looped his arm around Adam — more around his neck than his shoulders — and headed the both of them back towards the house, foul mood suddenly dropped. His strides were sort of hindered by the cold and the coarse ground getting to his feet but Ronan still moved around with confidence.

A few meters ahead, the master house stood unperturbed and yet constantly changing. In the dreary light of the cloudy day, the solid wood of the porch and the frame of most windows where dotted in twists of holly and mistletoe, the berries shining warmly. The decorations stretched further inside, through the hall and the living room. The Barns were evidently ready for Christmas.

For yet another time since his arrival a couple of days prior, Adam contemplated the sight, while retreating back into the warmth of the house. There was something indiscernible about the festive display, a delicate feeling that kept nagging at the back of his mind and pushing a part of Adam’s brain — the one desensitised from and genuinely uncaring towards all the common holidays made of family and money to spend — slightly out of balance.

He could feel Ronan’s eyes on him, though, so Adam stopped watching the tree and pushed his efforts into hanging the coat back on the rack.

“You really went all in with the decoration.”

“It’s Christmas,” Ronan replied, matter-of-factly, moving towards the fireplace to light it up and warm his feet there. “Matthew will like this.”

Matthew surely would. At the same time, Adam wasn’t sure if and how he liked it himself, and settling for a diplomatically aseptic I don’t care either way left a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

The feeling was slippery.

It would have been reasonable for Ronan to be pissed at Adam’s lack of participation to this specific brand of Lynchness, but he wasn’t. Incongruently, it was another reason for Adam to feel like he was missing something essential for this whole winter break at the Barns.

********

Following a series of contingencies, 300 Fox Way became the logical destination for Christmas Eve.

Opal cannon-balled herself out of the BMW back door as soon as Ronan parked in a free spot by the sidewalk. In her rush towards the house, completely light up and lively even from the distance, she didn’t even bother with the garden gate and just jumped over the fence to cross the perpetually overgrown grass.

Adam laughed his way out of the passenger's seat. Chainsaw had stayed at home, nested close to the fireplace, so there was no fighting to maneuver a very opinionated bird out. “Maybe they shouldn’t have promised her that she could touch the oven.”

Ronan locked the car with the flashing click on his copy of the key and walked around to join him on the sidewalk. “What a terrible mistake. Also not my problem.”

The grin he flashed Adam — all plush lips and pointy canines — was a mesmerizing when matched with his sleek charcoal grey suit and the almost shocking splash of colour of his bordeaux tie. It would have been an impeccable Sunday best performance, appropriate even for Declan himself, if it weren’t for the loose hanging of the tie and the first two buttons of the shirt undone. Still, when they entered in the house — closing the door that Opal had left wide open behind them — Maura rushed by them, brushing Adam’s arm with one hand and giving Ronan a pointed once-over.

“Looking sleek, Ronan,” she mused, in her very everyday clothing and surrounded by an house that was evidently not in full Christmas celebration attire.

Ronan wrinkled his nose, but managed to contain the contrariness after a year and a half of exposure to the 300 Fox Way's women. “I’m going to Church right after, as soon as Declan and Matthew get here.”

“Of course you are.” Maura’s smile was gentle, but got morphed as soon as she started moving again towards the living room by her calling at full voice. “Blue! The rest of your boys are here!”

“They are not my boys!” Blue called back, but still tumbled out of one of the ground floor rooms and tackled Adam’s side in her best impression of a five-foot tall rugby player. Her skin was dark and still glowing from the wind and the sun from the recent road trip in Arizona and California, and she somehow knitted together three different pieces of woolen sweaters into an oversized dress.

Adam sunk into the embrace, “Hey, Blue.”

“Hey, Adam. Looking good, with your smart boy vibes.”

“There is indeed a clear sense of Ivy League in this hallway,” Gansey — impeccably dressed in cashmere and needlecord trousers, a failed attempt on casual ruined by the inherent poshness of his being — stepped away from a door frame and got closer to them.

There was a very civilized show of hand shaking between him and Ronan — weirdly firm and intense, thumbs slotting together, tendons lifting like wires underneath the skin — before Blue snorted in a very undignified manner. Gansey smiled sheepishly and caved, dragging Ronan close into a hug.

Ronan’s shoulders sunk down, a subtle yield of his imposing figure, one arm circling Gansey’s wide back. “Welcome home, shithead.”

Gansey smiled with the same unabashed delight he would usually reserve to dusty manuscript munched through by time. He reached with one hand and dragged Blue and Adam close. “It’s good to see you, before we go and face the snow up in Montana.”

“We first have to face your parents and the Gansey Christmas dinner tomorrow.” Blue reminded him, but leaned his face against Ronan’s arm and Ronan didn’t bark her off, weirdly subdue by the whole situation.

“Yeah, that’s a controversial truth.” Gansey admitted, but didn’t stop smiling.

Adam stayed silent through the whole exchange, Blue’s small hands clasped on the fabric of his shirt and Gansey’s grip against his arm, while Ronan towered subtly on the three of them.

It was inexplicable and way too convoluted, the way he had missed them. He had not intended to miss anyone in Henrietta, and yet here he was. Here he had been eager to be, since they told him they were going to come back for Christmas as well.

“Hey, human pile!” Henry made his way from the kitchen through the hallway, carrying an amount of plates that shouldn’t have been physically feasible for a human to balance. “Are you going to help me with this? So I can join the group hug. And just so you know, I won’t greet anyone until I can do it properly, because I’m rude like that.”

Blue laughed, Gansey started to apologise, and they all extricated from the twist of limbs without making the process awkward after too much wait.

Reflexively, Adam took a deep breath as well, and went to do his part on the setting of the table.

********

As it turned out, getting to sit down and eat dinner in a very commonplace manner was asking for too much.

The table cloth was spread over a collection of four different tables — mismatched in height and width but at least stable on their legs — and surrounded by a random amount of chairs. There was enough space at least for Opal and Gwenllian, for sure, but the latter had disappeared regally into her attic and Opal had followed suit — probably more interested in what she had in her hair today over anything on the table now that the oven was off.

Calla — very pointedly stressing that no, kids, you just need to sit the hell down and drink your mulled wine, do you think I want you messing around? — had barely put down the fifth pie, while Jimi rearranged Maura’s valiant attempt to vegetable bowls around to make space, when a very marked bang echoed from the door.

Silence fell through the living room.

They were all still turned around when the second ramming on the entrance door came. Nervousness prickled at Adam’s throat, but when he turned around to Jimi, Maura and Calla he caught them simply putting the utensil down.

“How many times did you draw The Fool today, Maura?” Jimi asked, neatly folding the pot holder over.

“Five times.” Maura’s reply was accompanied by the third loud bang.

“Is one of you gonna get that door, or are we waiting for it to get battered down?” Calla looked at all of them, a very unimpressed frown on her forehead.

Gansey and Ronan jumped on their feet in a marked, well-practice unison oiled by years of recklessness and an aptitude to crazy plans that probably beat everyone else’s in the room. While Gansey strolled, valiant as a king, towards the entrance, Adam could not help but notice that Ronan was weirdly tense.

“Do we have any guesses on what is on the other side of the door?” Henry asked, without losing the usual chirpiness, even while he snatched Blue’s pink switchblade from one of the six pockets of her dress.

“Oh, no idea, and I don’t think the Arizona guy with the rifle would follow us here.” Blue replied, trying to sound very sensible while she was actually cautious. She picked up a bat from the umbrella stand and put it on Henry’s hand in exchange of her switchblade.

“The what, now?” Adam looked at the both of them, with the clear underlying of and you haven’t told me about it why?. Still, as the only actually practical person in the room, he recovered Ronan’s mobile from where he abandoned it on the table, because someone must be able to call for help if needs must.

“I would say that’s a story for another moment.” Gansey eyed them when they lined up at his back, close to the door. Another ramming made them all wince, the door evidently shaking under the impact. “Okay, since we’re all here, I’ll open up.”

They carefully lined up on the side opposite to the hinges and Gansey borrowed Henry’s bat to push down the door handle without having to stand too close to it.

Adam didn’t know what he was expecting — and certainly could not imagine what Ronan was thinking to match the sour expression in his face — but he had somehow assumed that whatever was banging would come barging in into the entrance, escalating the action.

Instead, everything was perfectly still and they were left to stare over the threshold, the light on the inside pouring out to light up the doorsteps.

On the other side, a reindeer taller than Blue and with antlers that could easily reach the top of Ronan’s head stood innocently, already detached from all the raucous it had caused. It shook its head as in greeting, and a tinkling followed, not only from the big bell hanging from its neck but also from the jingle bells on the garlands twirled around the antlers.

The reindeer had a very bright, almost shining, red nose.

Henry bursted out in a laugh, “Is that Rudolph the reindeer?”

“It would...appear so?” Gansey was remarkably skeptical for someone who spent years of his life chasing a sleeping Welsh king.

“No, okay, I draw a line at Santa Claus,” Blue lifted her hands up, as if she could bully the reindeer out of existence. The reindeer, on its part, just shook the jingling antlers again and dragged its hooves on the worn-out concrete outside of the door.

“Fuck Santa Claus, get this thing away from here,” Ronan snarled, overcoming the weird silent stillness that apparently possessed him and making to surpass Gansey and get to the door.

Adam could feel the reality shifting around them, in that subtle way that clicked events together in his mind. The Christmas decoration, Ronan gingerly readying the house for Matthew and for the holidays, the jumping mattress, the hooves print on the icy ground.

“Shit,” he gritted out, dragging the palm of the right hand over his face. He could feel Blue, Gansey and Henry’s eyes on him like a physical presence. “That’s not Santa Claus. Ronan dreamt it.”

The howling laughter that followed from Blue and Henry echoed through the hallway. Gansey had that very peculiar expression that he wore when he was trying to maintain a subdue composure but was instead bemused.

“Fucking drop it and help me!” Ronan bit out, reaching for the reindeer.

The reindeer scurried out of his reach, the red nose shining slightly.

“Are you kidding me, Lynch, this is amazing!” Henry’s camera kept flashing, Adam couldn’t even pinpoint the moment he took his phone out to document the whole business.

Ronan and the reindeer were circling each other, in a weird mess rhythmed by the bells chiming around the animal. “Cut the crap before someone see this in the damn garden and help me, for Christ’s sake!”

“Oh.” Blue said, suddenly looking over the reindeer and into her own neighbourhood.

“Uh.” Gansey echoed, clearly conceding the point.

Even though Henrietta had admittedly seen weirder and more concerning stuff than a perfect dreamt version of Rudolph, Adam had no doubt this could be the turning point for finally getting everyone’s attention on the little town and its shady supernatural businesses.

They did get onto it promptly, then, even though Henry was most likely taking a video — “We seriously need a record of this thing, come on!” — rather than helping out.

Surprising no one, dream-Rudolph was just as ill-tempered and shenanigans prone as anything Ronan has ever dreamt, though luckily less deadly than some of his other creations. Huge and surprisingly agile, even with four of them trying to actively coordinate, the reindeer constantly escaped and refused to be cornered. The net result was a merry chase around the garden of 300 Fox Way, vaguely lit just by the light filtering from the windows of house — from which Maura, Calla and Jimi watched while sipping wine cheerfully — and from some streetlights.

“This is seriously not working!” Adam pointed out to the others, after the fourth stumble around the unkempt grass, and the reindeer ran away happily towards the other corner of the house once again.

“I’m afraid that’s true.” Gansey heaved out, resting an elbow against the bark of Blue’s favourite tree to catch his breath. “Jane…” he piped up suddenly “...is the hammock still in the Dream Pig?”

“What fucking hammock?” Ronan turned around, the reindeer having escaped him once more. He was frustrated for more than the exercise, guilt creeping out from the shades of his aggressiveness.

“You mean the net one? I think it’s under the passenger's seat...or I don’t know, maybe in the boot,” Henry stopped filming for a second to reply. How he could manage not to get levelled to the ground my Ronan’s murderous gaze was a mystery. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, four people chasing your Rudolph is already too much.”

“You know what, maybe Henry is right, maybe we’re just scaring it! And we’re not gonna catch it with a net!” Blue protested. “If we could just convince it to get closer…”

“Jesus, maggot, it’s a damn reindeer, it’s bigger than you. Not that it’s fucking difficult, but…”

Adam got moving again, and went to grab Ronan by the scruff. He was tense as a wire and ready to fight, but he did not fight Adam off. “Okay, let’s not start this. You three can try and catch it gently, Ronan and I will recover the hammock...just in case. Deal?”

“Deal.” Gansey confirmed, tossing him the keys of the Pig for him to catch.

They left Henry to put away his phone and the three of them to start a conversation on the theoretically prime method of gentle approach to wildlife. Adam tuned out comments on that time in the valley though with a weird sense of detached melancholy about adventures that did not involve him — even though he had his own share and a life that he chose for himself — and concentrate on Ronan.

“You could have just told me what we were chasing off this morning,” Adam said, matter-of-factly regardless of the risk of escalation with Ronan.

“What about the damn your creations don’t leave the Barns?” Ronan countered, dark in the face with trouble.

Adam opened the car, somehow bright in its orange paint even in the dimly lit driveaway of 300 Fox way. By unspoken agreement, he opened the boot, while Ronan slid himself in the passenger seat after a frustrating challenge with the door — which had behaved perfectly before the first leg of the road trip, so maybe Adam should really give the Camaro a look before the others disappeared North.

“That’s usually true, though. And it’s a reindeer, Ronan, not a H-bomb, you could have just told me about it.”

Ronan made a noncommittal half-grunt and rummaged around in the front, “Jesus fuck this place is a mess.”

While Adam did know a deflection when he heard one he could hardly disagree with the concept, especially while facing a boot that seemed mostly full of hiking supplies, tents, lamps and backup pairs of shoes. “Tell me about it, any luck with the hammock?”

“Fuck no. But there is even more stuff in the backseat.”

Adam sighed deeply. “I’ll come and have a look. If we don’t find it at least Blue won’t freak out about animal mistreatment and whatnot.”

Ronan snorted. “That red-nosed fucker is quick as shit. A net won’t kill it — or hurt it, Jesus — it’s just so we don’t end up on every Goddamn blog in the country.”

Adam moved around a book of maps and lifted what he hoped would be the hammock only to figure that was one of Blue’s crazy net dresses. He was just about to say something — about the blogs, the clothes, Ronan’s nervousness — when he heard the clattering noise and the clamor of voices approaching.

“Adam, watch out!”

He did, prompted by Ronan’s alert, but it did not save him from getting pushed bodily inside the car, the backseat door slamming under the impact of jingling antlers. Ronan turned around on the passenger's seat, reaching for him with clear concern while looking around suspiciously and swearing under his breath.

“I’m okay, I’m all right, it was just a shove.”

“What the fuck is that thing doing?” Ronan gritted out. His eyes followed the Dream Rudolph, currently rushing in circles around the car in a flurry of antlers, garlands and bells. A bit more in the distance, Henry, Blue, and Gansey watched helplessly, cautiously keeping out of the way of this big of an animal in a rush.

At some point around the fifth turn, the Camaro started to vibrate, shaking as if they were back at driving it in off roads paths. The reindeer stopped running around, nudging the sleek metal of the hood with his nose for a second, before turning around and getting off in a rush once again.

Impossibly, the Dream Pig followed.

Like a sleigh on a snow path, Adam and Ronan found themselves dragged along Fox way.

“Fuck, Christ,” Ronan tried to turn on the engine, reflexively, but the Camaro was as unresponsive as it had been in crazy hot days in the Virginia countryside. “Parrish, can you do something about it?”

Adam clasped his hands on the two front seats, trying to soften the increasing shaking of the car while the reindeer brought them off road, towards a dried football field immersed in the dark. “I can work engines, Lynch, not empty hoods full of flowers.”

“Fuck, you’re right. Why the hell is it doing it? How the hell is it doing it?”

They were good questions, but there was no ready answer to them. “Maybe we can try and jump off now that we’re out in a field.” Adam contemplated, trying to problem solve the situation even if it meant leaving the Camaro on its on devices with a Dream Rudolph.

Just as he was saying it, the car stopped shaking and tilted weirdly — first all the way to the left and then all the way to the right, softly and effortlessly. Ronan and Adam exchanged a very alarmed look, and then rushed to look out.

The reindeer was still running, but not on the ground. Slowly but steadily, they all lifted up, and up, and the Pig flew off in the cloudy winter sky. The Dream Rudolph’s nose was shining brighter than a beacon.

On the other side of the windows, thankfully closed, Henrietta grew smaller and smaller underneath them. They began circling the town, and it would have resembled Gansey’s faithful cardboard reconstruction of it if it weren’t for the dark. Streetlight and lit-up windows traced the town in negative, as a photography waiting to be developed, and dimmed out in the distance towards the wild darkness of the mountain and the countryside. The quiet lulling of the Camaro was nothing like the thunderous engine of the helicopter Helen flew them in, and the whistling of the wind outside the vehicle was spaced out by the jingle of bells and Ronan string of increasingly inventive swearing.

Adam pressed his forehead against the corner of the driver’s seat, and began to laugh.

Ronan stopped swearing and eyed him carefully. “Parrish?”

“Ronan…” Adam was having a hard time catching his breath. “...your reindeer is making us fly!”

Ronan was eying him suspiciously, and the worry that Adam self-control finally snapped to leave him in hysterics several tens of feet off the ground was not completely unfounded from his part. Still, it was fucking, recklessly, hilarious.

“This is amazing,” Adam reiterated, liftings his head and looking at Ronan and Henrietta gleaming on the other side of the windows. The laughing fit was only slowly subsiding. “I don’t know how you do it, and you always do it, but come on.”

Ronan back around on the passenger's seat, looking towards the windshield and over it, where Dream Rudolph was still effortlessly trotting around — the red light of its nose reflecting from the bells on its antlers in weird dots around the light brown fur.

“I was kind of hoping you could have fun,” he murmured, at the end, reluctant as ever to express any concept of emotional value.

“What, with Rudolph?”

“I don’t know. Fuck.” one hand snatched up to slide on the buzzed cut hair. “With Christmas, even? I know you don’t like it, not really. But you came back, so I wanted you to have fun. And all these silly stories were fucking fun, when we were little.”

Another laugh started pulling at the corners of Adam’s mouth. “So that’s why you dreamt me a Rudolph? To steal the Camaro from Gansey and drench me in Christmas spirit?”

“You’re an asshole, I didn’t know it could fucking fly a car!”

“Maybe it can fly only this Pig because you dreamt it as well. Why don’t you dream all the other reindeers, maybe we can fly anything with the whole pack...flock…”

“It’s a herd, you fucker,” Ronan’s tension broke into a barked laugh, finally turning back to look at Adam. Their eyes met for a second, before Ronan’s dropped on Adam’s smiling lips, as if to follow their profile and convince himself that he was actually happy.

Still perched with one elbow on the back of the driver’s seat, Adam reached to grab Ronan’s nape. There was no resistance when he dragged him close and kissed him.

That high in the sky in the middle of winter, the inside of the car was cold and so were Ronan’s lips. When he tilted his head and pressed their lips together better, though, the impression of humid warmth from the soft inside of the bottom lip was starking against Adam’s. Adam hummed and caved first, not even trying to play a game of softness and teasing, and pushed forward. He liked the feeling of Ronan’s mouth dropping open between them, he liked even more to slide his tongue inside and feel the kiss tingle all the way down his spine.

Ronan’s mouth felt impossibly hot and familiar, spiced up with the crazy amount of cinnamon Calla had manage to drop in the mulled wine. Adam felt very hungry and very fulfilled at the same time — at every twist of their tongue, at the small itching in breath against his skin while Ronan tried to inhale and drag the kiss deeper, further.

When the need for air broke them up eventually, Adam brushed their nose together, lips still lingering against each other’s, and opened his eyes. In the almost darkness, Ronan still had his eyes closed, intent in their proximity. Everything was surging weirdly against Adam’s chest, so he just tilted his head to the side and kissed along Ronan’s handsome face — the solid cut of his cheekbones against the skin, down the smoothness of his shaved-clean jaw — all the way down his neck.

With a faint sigh at the side of Adam’s ear, Ronan craned his neck in a clear path for Adam’s lips. Adam kissed it, again and again, hyper-aware of the skin warming up at every slide of tongue. A slight shiver followed when Adam made his way even further down, hooking a finger on the perfectly pressed collart of Ronan’s white shirt to close his mouth at the bottom of his neck and suck.

“Shit…” Ronan whistled out between gritted teeth, grabbing at the back of Adam’s elbow, as if to stop him from withdrawing.

Not that it mattered or it was needed. Adam kept at it long enough to leave a mark, and then move slightly down, toeing the line of the two open buttons with two more hickeys all the way down to Ronan’s clavicle. Ronan burrowed a hand in Adam’s hair, when he stopped sucking. His chest was heaving under the open dampness of Adam’s lips, but Adam’s own breath bumped back from Ronan’s skin to his face.

“Should I come to the backseat?”

“I’m not gonna fuck you in a flying car.”

“You need to choose a good way to go, at some point, Parrish.”

They both burst out laughing, again, and by silent agreement they stopped escalating the contacts.

“Hey, Ronan,” Adam whispered, lifting back up without sneaking out of the grip on his hair.

“Mhn?”

The hand combed through his hair and Adam felt like dropping his head against the side of Ronan’s. “It’s a very fun Christmas.”

The smile on Ronan’s lips was a clear stretch on Adam’s temple, when Ronan turned around to kiss it, intensely delicate. “Good to know. But we’re gonna freeze our asses off and fucking starve if we don’t get the fuck down soon,” he gave a very pointed look at the Dream Rudolph, rising his voice from the car. “What do you think, shithead full of bells?”

The reindeer seemed to hear him just fine, shaking his antlers just for the sake of more jingling and bellowing softly. After all the chasing around, it was almost amicable now, leading them in circles that went lower and lower, back towards the field they took off from.

Trust any animal of Ronan’s to be as temperamental as him.

By the time they settled back on the ground, Adam felt much more mentally ready for the Eve and the Christmas festivities to follow. He hadn’t realized he was nervous about them — about having someone worth spending them with for the first time ever, about not matching the mood and the expectation for lack of any practice — until now, with the weight lifted off his shoulders.

Of course, all the occupants of 300 Fox Way and then some, if the rest of the Lynch brothers had arrived in the meantime, would be freaking out. But that was another story, and maybe Dream Rudolph could fly for them as well.

********

On the morning of Boxing Day, Adam woke up alone in the bed but not alone in the bedroom, Opal cheerfully dangling her furry legs off one the chairs and watching him.

“Will you come, if you’re up? Kerah is out already!”

He had to snatch every second it took him to put some clothes appropriate for the type of chill he would experience outside, but at the end Opal got a grip of his hand and dragged him out.

“It’s not that cold!”

“You’re never cold, you don’t count.”

“Kerah says you’re never cold, but Kerah gets cold easily. So doesn’t he count as well?”

Adam laughed, “No, maybe he doesn’t either.”

Appently, for once in his life, Adam had been the last one to wake up. The frosty path Opal led him through was already marked by more than one pair of footprints; when they got to a shady corner close to the bent of creek that crossed the Barns, Declan and Matthew’s backs were as unmistakable as Ronan’s.

“I can’t believe you actually dreamt a Rudolph, Ronan,” Declan was saying.

“Yeah, you fucking said that already. Four times. What’s your point? Is there a time limit on reindeers?” Ronan turned around with one eyebrow up.

“Well, we all know what Declan’s favourite reindeer was, don’t we?” Matthew singsonged, circling his first brother.

“It’s not like I wanted one!” Declan snapped, all too promptly and with an uncharacteristic hinge of fluster in his tone.

“Suuuure you didn’t,” Ronan dragged, a shit-eating grin spreading. "What do you know, maybe I'll give you a lift back to D.C. in a couple of days."

Adam had to stop eavesdropping silently because Opal started losing it, her cawing laugh spreading and prompting Chainsaw to follow suite from where she was stomping around on the ground.

“Well, now we get to keep it, so it’s fair, isn’t it?” Matthew said, as Ronan gestured Adam closer.

A handful of meters head, the secluded corner of the Barns they were at was covered in bright white know and glistening with artificial cold, just like Cabeswater used to do when it changed season for good. In a cheerful jingle of bells, Dream Rudolph trotted around its new home, the red nose happily shining.

It was a good fix.

It had been a good Christmas.

#My Writing #the raven cycle #Pynch #Pynchsecretsanta17 #HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! #Enjoy some very random fluffiness #T rated #No big worries some nice kissing #Christmas shenanigans

[peter-pan-hoe]

Rumple’s Daughter

Requested by @cookieytb: Can you do a peter pan imagine where Y/N is Rumple's daughter and Henry is in Neverland because he is The heart of the truest believer (or whatever) and Emma and others come to save Henry and Y/N stays just with Rumple and Pan come visit her and...I don't know. .. you can continue if you want...Btw sorry for my english, it's not my first language..

Word Count: 1,624

  “Papa, Y’know you look ridiculous,” I sighed as my father, Rumpelstiltskin, and I trekked through the Neverland forest. “You don’t need all that crazy get-up to hunt down Pan,”

  “Stop talking about unnecessary things Y/N,” he grumbled.

  “You’re the one with an unnecessary outfit,” I said under my breath. “Can we take a break soon? My feet have been aching for hours,”

  “Y/N stop complaining, we’re here to find Henry,” he stopped and glared at me.

  “Yeah and with all the magic you have and the little you’ve taught me, we’re walking around the forest trying to find a bunch of feral teenage boys under the control of someone you hate but won’t tell anyone how you know him!” I shouted. “Y’know what? Forget this. I’m going off on my own,”

  “Now, don’t be stupid,” he started but I disappeared in a cloud of dark blue smoke.

I had no idea where I landed but like everywhere else it was full of trees and plants and the air smelled of soil.

  “If I were a tyrannical teenage boy holding a kid captive on an island where on said island would I be?” I thought aloud.

  “I’d be  here,” a voice made me jump.

I spun around with a ready fireball in my hand. A boy, maybe 17 was leaning against a tree with a smug expression.

  “Which one are you then?” he pushed himself off the tree and began walking toward me slowly. “I tried my hardest to remember you all by name but there’s so many of you and I don’t care that much,”

  “Stay back,” I said sternly, raising the fireball. “Where is my nephew?”

  “Who is your nephew?” He raised his eyebrow and smirked.

  “Henry,” I said through gritted teeth.

The boy looked genuinely surprised.

  “You’re the Dark One’s daughter, Baelfire’s little sister,” the smirk on his face wavered a little. “He’s dead now isn’t he?”

  “Yes, Would you like to join him?!” It was true. My big brother was killed when he attempted to save Henry from Greg and Tamara.

My anger at this smug boy made the fireball in my hand grow in size, it was roughly the size of a basket ball.

  “Calm down sweetheart,” he chuckled, his bravado returning.

  “Don’t call me that,” I lowered my hand, stepping away from this strange boy.

  “Tell me who you are,” I said with as but power in my voice as I could muster.

  “Why I am Peter Pan,” he said with a smile. “Surely you know of me?”

I raised my fireball again. “Stay away,”

  “You’re no fun,” he sighed.

I’d had enough. “Whatever,” I snapped. “I’m going to find my father and then we are all going to find Henry,”

And then I disappeared.

I went back to where I’d left Papa but he’s since moved on.

I jumped from place to place randomly until I found the Heroes.

  “Y/N,” Emma said when she saw me. “What are you doing here? Where’s Gold?”

  “I got tired and he wouldn’t let me rest so I left,” I explained. “Then I got a visit from Pan,”

I told them of how I met Pan, the whole while Hook was either playing with his clothes or checking his reflection in his hook.

  “Did he say anything about Henry?” Regina asked.

  “No but he was a little surprised when I said Henry is my nephew,” I shrugged.

  “probably because you’re so young,” David suggested.

  “I guess,” I mumbled.

The heroes set up for the night and I sat against a tree facing away from them, not tired, my thoughts running laps in my head.

What surprised Pan so much? Why did he seek me out anyway? 

I heard Emma groan in her sleep. I looked around the tree and saw her tossing and turning. She sat up suddenly and looked around, listening.

I Stayed quiet as she got up and followed some mysterious sound she heard.

Sleepwalking?

I didn’t intend to wake her but I did follow her in case anything were to happen.

I arrived near her, hidden by the trees, just as she was greeted by Pan.

The spoke a little, and when he told her his name she pinned him to a tree. 

And he smiled.

Sick bastard. 

I stayed quiet, and watched their conversation as I couldn’t hear very well. He gave her a map and then left. Emma started to leave to so I quickly ran to where I had been against my tree so she didn’t know I was spying.

We’d been searching for a day or two with the odd argument here and there. I stayed out of it and let the Heroes have there inner battles. Being quiet had it’s advantages. They often forgot I was there, so I could sneak off every now and then to look for Papa. I never found him. 

We did however find Pan’s camp by following the magically enchanted map with Regina’s locator spell. The creep was wearing Henry’s clothes. Which confused me because he’s so much taller than Henry. He must’ve used magic to fit the clothes to his size. 

And Pan visited me again. Taunting and teasing about finding Henry and he said really confusing things about Papa not telling us everything. I mean he’s Rumplestiltskin when does he ever tell anyone the whole stroy but it was still annoying coming from Pan.

Mary-Margret and I were walking at the back of the group while Emma and Regina lead with the map. 

Mary-Margret was nice. Super sweet but super whiny. Hope this, optimism that. But she was nice.

  “How are you doing with everything?” she asked me.

  “I’m getting agitated,” I huffed as we trudged along. “Pan is pissing me off with his stupid games,”

  "How so?" She asked.

  “He’s just spitting cryptic nonsense whenever he speaks to me,” I grumbled.

  “Maybe he likes you?” she suggested. “You know how boys are when they like a girl,”

  “You’re remembering he kidnapped your grandson right?” I looked at her sideways. “I mean he’s not hidieous but he’s the bad guy at the moment. What am I supposed to do? Flirt with him?”

  “No I just-” she stopped, realizing there was no point.

In the middle of the night I woke up to someone sitting next to me.

  “Sorry to disturb your sleep sweetheart,” It was Pan.

  “Holy-” I rolled away from him and took up a defensive stance. “What is wrong with you?”

  “What do you mean?” his eyebrow raised and he tilted his head.

  “Not only are you a kidnapper but you’re a pervert now too?” I used my magic to tie my hair back away from my face, and ready a fireball in my hand.

  “How am I a pervert?” he leant forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “I’m just checking up on you. I find you and your brother very interesting,”

  “Ew,” I screwed up my nose in distaste. “Why are we interesting? And even if I’m so interesting do you have to watch me sleep? And how do you know Baelfire? Was he here? When he was younger? He was a lost boy?”

  “Your father never told you?” he looked genuinely surprised. “Typical of him. Rumple takes after his father. Yes Bae was a lost boy for a time,”

  “Why are you here?” I raised my fireball. “And don’t say to check up on me. Why am I so interesting to you?”

  “You’ll have to ask Papa about that dearie,” he smirked and then vanished.

I was getting tired of this constant scwabbling among the heroes so I copied Regina’s locator spell with Papa’s watch.

I followed the watch as it floated through the air. It changed direction a few time because my father had moved places but it eventually fell to the ground.

  “What the- Seriously?” I growled at the blasted thing. I looked around me at the trees and ferns. “There’s nothing here,”

I heard a voice suddenly.

  “Where is she?” that’s my father’s voice.

  “She was with us last night but she must’ve snuck off during the night,” David’s voice explained.

They’re talking about me. Where are the voices coming from? I looked around for any sign of a clearing.

There.

I burst through the bushes much to the surprise of Papa and the heroes.

  “Y/N!” Papa said with relief. “I told you not to disappear and you not only ran away form me but you ran away from them?”

  “They annoyed me so I tried to find you again,” I shrugged.

I looked at Mary-Margaret’s sad face.

  “You didn’t annoy me with our chat,” I reassured her. “The constant arguing and disagreements between the lot of you did. I want to find my nephew as soon as possible and you guys are to busy fighting over the best way to find him, rather than actually using those ways to find him,”

  “Y/N,” the voice of someone I hadn’t noticed spoke now.

  “Bae?” I looked at the man behind my father. “Baelfire!”

I ran to him. He caught me as I jumped into his arms.

  “I thought you were dead?” I hugged my brother.

  “We all did,” Emma said.

  “I was shot yeah,” Baelfire sighed. “But when I went through the portal I landed in the enchanted forest, near the dark one’s castle. Some people there cared for me then helped me get here,”

  “It would appear the whole family is here now,” Regina sounded less than pleased.

  “Not the whole family,” David reminded her.

  “And an extra,” Hook raised his hand with a humerous smile.

  “Well then,” Emma said. “With the addition of Hook, let’s get the rest of the family. Let’s go find Henry,”

#peter pan #peter pan x reader #peter pan imagine #peter pan ouat #peter once upon a time #once upon a time #ouat #ouat imagine #once upon a time imagine #lost boy #lost boys #lost girl #neverland #rumpelstiltskin #rumplestiltskin #mr gold ouat

[truthofherdreams]

long and lost. (chapter 9)

In which Emma doesn’t meet her dad, and has to deal with a moron (ao3)

Emma spends the following two weeks with her ankle in a cast, unable to move away from the station. She gets some paperwork done, answers the phone, sorts the archives, and is otherwise so bored out of her mind that Graham makes fun of her at least five times a day for it. They’ve taken to playing darts together, Emma leaning against a desk as she lines a shot – she’s terrible at it, and Graham is way too good, but it keeps them busy and entertained.

She falls into the routine nicely enough, taking care of breakfast before Mary Margaret drives both Henry and Leo to school, coming back home at five just in time to check on their homework. They eat and watch tv, before she gives Henry his bath and reads him a bedtime story. Rinse and repeat every day, with visits to Granny’s in the weekend and hours spent at the park. Leo has taken to teaching Henry how to play soccer, and soon half a dozen other kids are playing with them too. Leo has never looked more happy, like he lives off the social interactions – or perhaps because his not-boyfriend is always sitting on a bench, pretending to read while he sneaks glances Leo’s way.

By the time the third week rolls around, Dr Whale still refuses to take Emma’s cast off, but discharges David Nolan. His wife decides to throw a party to celebrate, and both Emma and Mary Margaret are invited. (“You saved his life! Of course you’re invited!”)

Emma wonders how much longer she can go along with Mary Margaret’s kicked puppy attitude. Surely it must not be healthy for her, all the pining and sad faces, but Emma has no idea what to do or say to comfort her flatmate and convince her to move on from her unrequited crush.

Instead, she buys a nice bottle of wine at the liquor store, asks Leo to put on his best shirt, and drives them all to the Nolans’ for an evening of awkwardness. Dr Whale is here, smiling at Emma, then her foot, then Emma again – and with him all the town it seems. Emma only recognises a handful of them, and can put names on even less faces than that, so she sits on the bench by the stairs and makes herself as small as possible while Leo goes hunting for drinks and food. He has no problem navigating the crowd, saluting this and that person as he makes his way toward the buffet, Henry happily trailing behind him.

Emma smirks a little at the two of them, before she focuses back on her phone. Graham and she has been stuck in a passionate game of Words With Friends for a week now, with Emma putting as many dirty words as possible just so he will use his ‘oh youth’ voice on her while he rolls his eyes.

“So you must be Emma.”

She’s startled away from placing ‘nookie’ (10 points, not bad) and raises her head to find David Nolan standing in front of her, in all his nice-guy-smile-and-flannel-shirt glory. She makes for standing up, falling back on her ass ungracefully when she puts too much weight on one foot and loses her balance.

“Yeah, hi. I would stand up, but…”

“Don’t worry, stay there.” He grins at her, charming as always – not that she knows, but Mary Margaret has been talking about him a lot, so Emma feels like she kinda knows anyway. “I wanted to thank you for the rescue, but it looks like you’re making a habit of it.”

Emma finds herself blushing under the man’s praises – a little voice whispers to her, ‘under your father’s praise,’ and she isn’t quick enough to shut it up. The idea is already making its way into her heart, which beats a little faster at the thought. Wouldn’t it be nice?

She forces herself to chase it all away.

“I hope not to make a habit of it, actually,” she grins back. “You’re welcome.”

David keeps smiling, swaying on his feet a little, before he moves closer and leans forward, as if sharing a secret with her. “This is a crowd of unfamiliar faces, and you’re the only one I’m sure I don’t actually know.”

Emma’s eyes widen a little at his confession, her own fears rising as a knot in her throat. She swallows it down with difficulty, willing herself to forget about how every face was a foreign one until Ingrid, and Henry. About how she could have walked past someone she knew on the street, and wouldn’t have even reacted, wouldn’t even be aware of the fact. Dr Whale said that David’s amnesia was more due to the shock than anything else, and that his memories will come back eventually, and he just has to let his brain rest a little.

Emma wishes she was that lucky.

“I know exactly what you mean,” she admits. He offers her a questioning raised eyebrow, and she nods to the spot beside her on the bench. He sits by her side, and waits. “I have no memory of my life before I was seventeen. The doctors have no idea why, it’s just… gone.”

David’s smile is gone all of a sudden, his eyes full of compassion. Only he could understand, she thinks, but then again nobody will ever understand. Emma doesn’t even know why she’s telling him all that, even with Leo’s voice in her head whispering to her that David is their father and will make all her worries and pain go away.

“At least you have your brother.”

“At least you have your wife,” Emma hears herself shooting back, bitterly.

David’s scoff is rolling on his tongue, ready to come out, before he swallows it down quickly. Emma doesn’t comment, her own lips in a tight line. She wants to tell him not to fuck around, that she cares very dearly about Mary Margaret and could he not play with her heart if he doesn’t mean it. But it’s not her place, and so she just shakes her head a little before she focuses back on the crowd in the living room.

“I care about her a lot,” David goes on after one too many silent beat. Emma doesn’t have to ask who her is. “But this is a difficult situation and…”

“None of my business?” she finishes for him, offering him an out that he doesn’t take.

“She’s your roommate; you’re worried.” Another beat then, “I’m trying to do right by her. By both of them.”

Then try harder, she wants to say, but someone calls David’s name before she can speak up. They both raise their heads at the same time, only to find a Latina woman walking toward them with a grin on her lips. Her curly hair falls freely around her shoulders, her nose and cheeks peppered with freckles, and she looks overall so beautiful that it takes Emma a few seconds to recover.

“Whale says you probably don’t remember me,” is how she introduces herself, and Emma wonders if he gets that a lot, people who have known him for a while having to go through everything all over again. Sounds exhausting. “Arizona. Your boss.”

“Oh yeah,” he replies with a grin and a shake of the head, like he suddenly remembers her despite the fact that he very much doesn’t. Sounds exhausting too, this game of pretending not to offend people. “Sorry about missing work for so long.”

Arizona offers a flick of her wrist. “More puppies for me to pet, can’t say I mind.”

The dots connect in Emma’s mind at the mention of puppies, mostly because Mary Margaret has told her on several occasions about how great a man who works with pets must be. Because David worked at the animal shelter, before. Because Emma knows more about him that she would like.

“Looks like a meeting for Asocial Anonymous,” the woman goes on as she looks between David and Emma. “Mind if I join?”

Not that she lets them much of a choice, scooting between Emma and David on the bench before either of them has time to react, let alone answer anything. She introduces herself to Emma next, and only then does it click - Emma has seen her a couple of times at Granny’s during the weekend, bickering with Ruby about this or that thing. Graham told her a few days ago that she should get more familiar with the people of Storybrooke, now that she serves them, but it’s a long, tedious process.

Arizona then starts a conversation with David about the animal shelter, explaining what they have been up to lately and which animals they’re taking care of at the moment, so Emma stops listening at some point. She looks back to the party in front of her, wondering if people would mind her slipping away only half an hour after she arrived, when she notices Leo in a corner. Arms folded on his chest, he’s glaring at something (someone?) she can’t see and looking more pissed than he’s even been.

Neither David nor Arizona mind that she excuses herself and walks away, stopping by Leo’s side. She scans the room for Henry, finds him eating cheese cubes on the couch, and deems him safe enough for her to focus back on her brother instead.

“What’s up?” she asks, way too cheerfully to simply be checking in with him.

Leo, thankfully, is no fool and doesn’t make it difficult for his sister. “She’s plotting something.”

Emma follows his line of sight to the open kitchen, to find David Nolan’s wife discussing with Madam Mayor while dropping finger food on a platter. Emma forces herself not to make a face at the sight of the Mayor, if only because she is in public and knows her manners. “So what? They’re friends.”

“No, they’re not. She has no friends.” Leo frowns some more, and Emma finds herself mirroring him. “Aunt Abigail would never be friends with her.”

“Aunt Abigail?”

Leo glances at her before he sighs. Emma knows him well enough by now to recognise it as a ‘oh right, you don’t remember’ sigh. She may remember what he told her about the woman, when she appeared at the hospital after David woke up from his coma, but she hadn’t realised that they were close enough to consider their father’s almost-wife to be their aunt.

Putting all the pieces together proves itself complicated. Gosh, she’ll need a diagram for that family tree, or something.

“Anyway, yeah. Don’t you find it weird that Prince Charming suddenly wakes up from a coma, and then the Evil Queen is all friendly with his fake wife?”

“There are a lot of things about all of this I find weird, little brother…”

Leo offers her his most unimpressed stare, to which Emma replies with a little smirk. While she doesn’t mind his fantasies, it is always good to remind him that she still doesn’t believe them, lest he gets too carried away and starts actually doing something crazy. Like asking her to bite into an apple just to prove a theory, or something.

“Listen, I hate the woman as much as you do, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t allowed to have friends.”

“She’s plotting something,” Leo reitters.

“Well good thing I’m the police then. If something happens, I’ll take care of it.”

Leo seems to be hesitating then, his eyes traveling between Emma and the scene unfolding in the kitchen, before he gives up with a deep sigh. Emma may have won this battle, but it doesn’t mean she’s won the war, and she knows to keep an eye on him from now on. The last thing she wants is to have a Mine Accident 2.0 on her arms in a couple of days because her brother is too reckless for his own good.

“Can we go home now?” he asks in a mumble, teenage angst kicking back in.

“Sure thing,” Emma replies, too happy to get away from here to complain about her brother’s sudden sour mood. She calls for Henry, who perks up at the sound of his name and comes trotting toward her instantly. It’s another five minutes before they manage to say their goodbyes to David, now deep in a discussion with Arizona and another man, and then the three of them leave the house without looking back. Emma wonders if it’s rude to go without thanking Mrs Nolan for welcoming them, but then again it would put them in the Mayor’s crossfire. The least she sees them, the better.

Leo is still sulking by the time they make it home, so Emma gives him some space.

 …

 “I need your counsel.”

Emma forces herself not to drop into the heavy chair, instead lifting her skirts to sit as properly as possible. In part because Queen Abigail has always been strict about manners, and in part because it is an important matter on which she wants to be taken seriously. The older woman looks up from the missive she was reading, and must notice the grave air on Emma’s features, for she puts the letter aside and folds her arms on the table.

“What is troubling you, my darling?”

She bites on her lip, pondering on her words. Even though she rehearsed her speech only minutes before entering the royal office, her stomach is in knots and she suddenly can’t remember what she was supposed to say. She isn’t afraid that Queen Abigail will judge or mock her, for she has known her since she was a babe and trusts her with her life as well as her heart, but her confession is one that is not easy to make.

“When you were betrothed to papa,” she starts, and those words almost have Queen Abigail pinching her lips. They never truly discussed it, but Prince David told his children many a time before of the tales that had led him to Snow White, of the sacrifice he and Queen Abigail were ready to make for their kingdoms, before they both decided to follow their heart. “You did it on your own free will, even though you loved another man.”

Queen Abigail frowns, just enough to create two wrinkles between her eyes. “Where are you getting at with this, Emma?”

Emma frowns too as she looks down to her hands in her lap, fingers playing nervously, before she takes a deep breath. “What I mean is, how were you able to put your own happiness aside for the good of your kingdom?”

“Ah.” Queen Abigail doesn’t say anything else after that, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them until Emma glances up, only to see the older woman holding back a smile, her chin resting in her hands. A quiet snort of laughter escapes her when her eyes meet Emma’s, and the princess tries her hardest not to be offended, but finds herself failing.

“Are you mocking my pain?”

The queen does laugh this time, smothering the sound behind her hand and shaking her head slightly. “Oh, of course not, my darling. I simply believe you are making a mountain out of a molehill. Now, tell me what is this happiness you want to renounce.”

Emma finds herself opening her mouth wordlessly, before her cheeks heat up. She tilts her head as to hide her face behind her hair, which does nothing to quiet the queen’s little puffs of laughter. “There is a man…”

“So I’ve heard.”

She looks up, mouth and eyes widening. “You know?”

Queen Abigail does laugh out loud this time, but she also stands up to walk around her desk and stops next to Emma. Her hand finds Emma’s shoulder, squeezing it, before it goes up to cup her face and angle it so she is staring up at the queen.  “I am afraid a lot of us are indeed aware of Lieutenant Jones, my darling.”

Emma didn’t think she could blush even more, but her skin feels as if it is about to combust, and she wants to dig herself a hole into which she will disappear. Queen Abigail must take pity on her, though, for she smiles kindly and caresses her cheek.

“Oh my child, did you really believe you had to give up on him for the good of your queendom, when it was your mother introducing you to him?”

Emma blinks, once, twice, before it dawns on her. “The meeting was on purpose.” It is less of a question than a fact, now that she thinks back on it, now that Queen Abigail’s words put everything from the past few weeks into perspective.

“That it was. Now, do not find underlying meanings to my words, for I never said your mother planned everything. But if she did not approve of the idea, never would have she introduced you to a bachelor.”

Emma purses her lips, thinking. “Is he a good prospect?”

“Does it matter?”

The words resonate with her, of course. Her parents would never force her into a marriage of convenience, neither would they go again her heart’s will. But a maiden’s mind can play tricks on her at times, and she found herself worried for days, wondering if her attraction for the young lieutenant was mutual, and if her parents would approve of him.

“He is from a good family, is rising through the Navy and, from what I have heard, his wit is as delightful as his face.” Emma laughs at the words, and blushes once more. “Believe me, your parents would approve of him, regardless of their will to let you choose your own happy ending.”

The knot that was bothering Emma’s stomach has now traveled to her throat, and she finds herself swallowing around it, and the tears at the back of her eyes. She hadn’t thought of it that way but, the more she ponders on it now, the more sense it makes. She understands the secret smiles her mother shared with Lady Jones, now that she has acquired a new perspective on the subject.

“Worry not, my darling. Your father may huff and puff all he wants - and he will - but at the end of the day they will always embrace whatever makes your brother and you happy.”

The smile on Emma’s lips feels more genuine now that her spirits are lifted, and she even allows herself to grin at the queen. Queen Abigail smiles back, and caresses her hair, apparently satisfied with ending the conversation on such a high note for she goes back to sitting at her end of the desk.

“Now, my darling. Would you like to talk about how to best separate your royal duties from your personal life?”

Emma chokes on her own saliva at the implications, and hides behind her hair once more, before she softly answers, “I would love that, yes.”

 …

 It is yet another week before Dr Whale agrees to take Emma’s cast off, much to her relief. She leaves the hospital with empty promises of being careful and not putting too much pressure on her foot, too happy about her newfound freedom to be contradictory. It feels weird, no longer walking with a limp, but Emma makes the best of it and walks all the way from Granny’s to the station on the following morning, just because she can. The weather is starting to really get colder now that winter is just around the corner, and she had to swap her leather jacket for something a little more padded.

Mary Margaret told her that winters in Storybrooke are usually wet, and then you wake up one morning and find ten inches of snow in your garden. Emma looks forward to the latter, if not the former - Henry will be delighted to be able to play in the snow instead of jumping in the slush like in Boston.

The warmth of the heating system bites into Emma’s cheek as she enters the station, a sharp contrast with the wind, and she smiles a little as she gets rid of her scarf. Her joy is short-lived, though, when she steps into the main room to find one of the cells occupied. She sighs as she shrugs off her coat and walks toward her desk.

“You should get our loyalty card. Ten stamps and you get a free arrest.”

James snorts loudly, standing up from where he was lying down on the cot to lean against the cell, his arms dangling between the bars. There is a bruise blossoming under his right eye and, along with the fact that he looks like a mess and obviously spent the night in, it takes Emma about five seconds to conclude he got into yet another fight at the Rabbit Hole. How the place doesn’t go out of business with how many pieces of furniture get broken during the weekly melees, Emma has no idea. Nor does she care all that much, truth be told.

“Would it help to say I’m innocent?”

It is Emma’s time to scoff, her laugh as loud as it is sarcastic, as she sits down at her desk and switches on her computer. It starts purring like a very upset cat, and she glares at it. “Not really, no.”

“It’s quite the story.”

“Wow. I don’t care.”

James chuckles once more. Emma doesn’t look up, but the creaking noise is all she needs to know he’s back to lying down on the uncomfortable cot. She is used to his shenanigans by now - either she or Graham arrest him once a week, sometimes twice if James is in a particularly festive mood - and to keeping him locked all through the morning. Maybe it will stick, at some point, and he will stop getting into trouble. Not yet, though.

“Can I get a cup of water?”

Emma doesn’t look up from her screen when she points to the break room to her left. “Just go and help yourself,” she says with a shit-eating grin.

“Ah-ah, very funny,” he deadpans, which makes her laugh. It’s all about the little things in life. “I’m pretty sure that’s borderline police brutality. Wouldn’t want to get into trouble for my dry throat now, would you, lass?”

She raises an unimpressed eyebrow, but doesn’t look up from her emails. Graham will show up soon with breakfast from Granny’s for all of them, James included, and he’s more than aware of that. It’s the Sheraton of police cells, when he’s in it, so he has no right to complain about being treated wrong.

She scans through her emails, grateful for the silence that always accompanies James’ sulking - half of her messages is either Graham or Leo sending her spam in the form of funny videos and cute pictures of kittens, and the other half usually is people contacting the station about minor problems they could resolve by themselves easily. One of them, though, makes her frown.

“Why are the nuns contacting me to say they’re not pressing charges against you?” She looks up at him, and he sits up in his cot, looking sheepish for the first time since she met him. “Did you break into the convent? What is wrong with you?”

He hesitates, just for a moment, before a smirk stretches his lips. “Let’s say one of them used God’s name in all the wrong ways last night.”

Emma struggles to swallow down her disgust, but it shows on her face and makes him laugh. It takes her longer than should be necessary to understand he’s only making fun of her, and then she wants to punch him all over again. The asshole.

“I hate you.”

“I know!” he answers with a gleeful giggle. “Bloody hell, that was too easy.”

For a moment, Emma pictures herself pouring him the damn glass of water, if only to throw it at his face. But she quite likes the idea of a stable job with a good pay, so she forces herself to remain professional in the face of stupidity. She can’t give up on saving for Henry’s college fees because of a moron with a penchant for crude humour.

She puts Mother Superior’s email aside, electing to let Graham deal with it on his own, and keeps going through the other messages. A bunch of them are about the Miner’s Day Festival, one or two from elders complaining about a birthday party being a little too loud (Emma rolls her eyes), another from a mother scandalised by how short the uniform skirts at Granny’s are. This one gets a silent chuckle out of Emma, and she forwards it to Ruby for the hell of it.

She’s thinking on how best to tell Leroy to piss off about his complain of the day, when her police station roommate decides to interrupt her. “I kicked some homophobes’ arse.” She looks up from her computer screen, and waits for the rest of the story. She didn’t expect that at all. “Your brother’s boyfriend was at the bar, and they decided to take the mick about… You know. Poor Fabian doesn’t look like much as it is, and they were twice his size. Nobody else was doing anything, because that’s Storybrooke for you, so I stepped in. Took a swing. All hell broke loose. Got kicked out for starting shit, and they somehow managed to make it look like I was the asshole in the story. Graham showed up and tada.”

He stretches one hand to encompass his cell, a sad smile on his lips. Emma joins the missing dots on her own - Fabian (Gideon?) is a ward of the state, and lives with the nuns for some reason she still doesn’t understand. Leo had talked about meeting him at the Rabbit Hole, just for a drink, but he had a maths test today and Emma isn’t too fond of letting him go out on a school night. Which explains why the other boy was alone, and why Mother Superior was the one contacting her. Surely Fabian told her everything as soon as he made it back to the convent.

“That was… chivalrous of you.”

“Chivalrous is my middle name,” he replies, which makes her snort. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t ignore bigotry.”

“Still an asshole, though.”

She grins, and he replies with a smile of his own, a little crooked and more sincere than any of their interactions before that. Her eyes linger on his face for longer than is truly necessary as she tries to associate this piece of information with everything she already knows about him, and so she gets startled by her phone ringing.

She lets out a breath, willing her heart to stop racing, as she picks up Mary Margaret’s call, if only to be welcomed by her roommate’s frantic voice. “Emma? Emma! Emma, it’s - there was - it’s an emergency!”

“Okay, calm down.” She leans back against her chair and closes her eyes at the dread rising in her throat. “What happened?”

She can hear the other woman breathing loudly in the phone, before she manages to find her wits again. “It’s Graham. He just showed up at our door ten minutes ago and I - I think he was drunk, or something. He asked for you, and then he passed out. Leo and I managed to pull him to the couch, but he’s burning up and he still hasn’t moved. I’m really afraid he’s going to… Should I call 911?”

Emma is already on her feet, grabbing her keys and her jacket, when Leo snatches the phone away from Mary Margaret to talk to her. “Don’t call 911. It’s not - Emma, it’s not normal. I think it’s magic.”

“Leo, now is not the time.”

“Trust me. Just this once, please, trust me.”

The pleading, panicky edge to his voice is what does it for Emma. She has never heard him so upset before, on the verge of tearing up, so she knows he is not playing around. Whatever he believes is happening, he believes it hard enough to make it the truth in his eyes.

“Okay, I’m coming. On my way. Just - keep him warm, lots of blankets, maybe you’ll break his fever before I arrive.”

“Okay - yeah, okay, we can do that. Please, be quick.”

“Promise.” She terminates the call and puts her phone in her pocket, looking up to find James standing up once more and looking at her with wide eyes. It only takes her half a second before she makes her decision. “You know anything about first aid?”

“The basics.”

She throws him the keys to the station, glad when they don’t collide with the bars and he catches them instead. “Good. You’re coming.”

Emma doesn’t look back as he struggles with finding the right one and opening the cell, nor when he jogs to follow her out of the station. It is only once they are outside and walking toward her car that he finally asks, “What is going on?”

“I have no idea.”

And perhaps it’s the worst part.

#cs ff #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #beautiful duckling #captain sex #ouat #otl: as you wish #fanfic #ff: ouat #ff: long and lost #guess who's bACK BITCHES

[ficdirectory]

Disuphere (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 51

CHAPTER 51

THEN

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Missing: 4 years, 1 month and 5 days

6:02 AM

New Kid had been around for nine days when He woke up Josh with a brutal shove.  Hitting the floor hard, Josh jumped to his feet.  Wide awake now, Josh focused on His hands.  On what He was holding:

“Got a job for you,” He said, tossing it to him.  

The clock read 6 AM.  Josh wondered when he would have time to get ready for school.  But he knew better than to ask.  Just walked outside, the gun at his back.  Josh was wide awake as He put a chain around his ankle.

“I got important things to do today,” He said cryptically.  “So I’m gonna tell you this once, and I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

Josh nodded.  Heart pounding, as He gave instructions for exactly what He needed Josh to do.

Dig a hole:

Five feet across.  Six feet deep.

Right next to where He’d buried Jacob exactly sixteen months ago.

He liked New Kid - called him perfect, even.  So, Josh’s hunch right off had been true: no need for two of something if one was perfect and the other was too old.

Josh swallowed.

This hole was for him; he was digging his own grave.

9:25 AM

Normally, Wednesday mornings meant work at Anchor Beach.  However with the stress of Jesus’s disappearance, plus other difficulties (Lena’s health crisis when she was pregnant with Frankie, Frankie’s early birth and hospitalization plus her recent diagnosis to name a few)  Lena found herself taking mental health days occasionally, on the advice of her therapist.

Lena dressed Frankie and sang to her softly: “When I see your face, there’s not a thing that I would change - because you’re amazing just the way you are.”

Frankie fussed through the process but quieted as soon as she was free to move around again.  Even with all the kids in school, taking care of Frankie was time-consuming.  It was overwhelming.  Lena didn’t know the first thing about parenting a baby with CP.

If she let herself, Lena became overrun by self-doubt, by blame and sadness.  But she had paid attention to the way Stef had framed the diagnosis for the kids and to their reactions, too.  They weren’t sad and grieving, because Stef presented it as fact.  Not one of the kids asked what might have caused it or even seemed interested in how it came to be.  Frankie was their sister.

Sometimes, it helped to imagine that Frankie had been dropped off as a foster baby.  That way, Lena could leave her own guilt out of the equation and focus on loving her as she came.

“Do you want to go to the pumpkin patch today?” Lena asked Frankie, who giggled and crawled away, wanting to be chased.

“We are going to get seven pumpkins and decorate them, and get all ready for Halloween.  What do you think about that?  Should we call Mom at work?  See what she thinks?”

“Mom,” Frankie nodded.

When Stef picked up, sounding tense, Lena put the phone to their daughter’s ear and coached her, so she said, “Hi, Mom!”

“Hey, my baby!  How are you?” Stef gushed, perking up immediately.

Lena whispered “pumpkin patch” in Frankie’s ear, and she repeated: “Munkin-bat?”

“Really?  Well that sounds fascinating.  I’m gonna talk to Mama now, yes?  I love you, Frankie.”

“Ah-ya-you Mom!”

It wasn’t until Lena got on the phone herself that she realized her mistake: seven pumpkins.  Not eight.

12:37 PM

Josh had been digging for hours.  His arms were sore and his legs were tired but he kept going.  Had to go fast enough to look like he was making progress but not too slow either because he wanted to stay alive.

His heart tripped in his chest.  “Jacob?” he said in his head.

It made sense if Jacob was trying to get a message to him - and that message especially - right now.  But it kind of destroyed Josh, too.  It made him think back to the last time he tried to get away.

(They tried to get away.)

Josh was gonna have to do so much different this time.  Like not try to be a damn hero for one thing.  If he was gonna get out of here (and if he was gonna be any good to New Kid) Josh knew he couldn’t involve him.  Safer for him to try something first.  But what?

Ever since He first brought New Kid here, Josh had been thinking about it.  Mariana’s way of acting out stuck in his head.  He could use that.  Probably.  If he could think of the rest.

Josh’s stomach growled but he kept digging.  Not thinking about what he was doing but what he was going to do.  Had to stay quiet and do what He wanted until just the right moment.  Knew better than to yell for help.  Around here, they’d just think it was some kid playing a game, not real life.  And he needed to be sure to stay alive long enough to actually get away.

“Mom?” he tried in his head.  “Mama?  Mari?  Brandon?  If you guys are there, tell me what to do and I’ll do it, okay, I promise.  Just tell me.”

“You are so damn slow!  What is wrong with you, dumbass?” He asked, jerking Josh’s leg chain and making him fall.

Josh almost passed out because he was thinking of Jacob and the way he squeaked and skidded across the linoleum.  Josh remembered staring at the hacksaw in the corner of the living room - glad He didn’t have it with Him and Jacob Down There.  Josh thought about how frozen he was that time.  

“You can’t get stuck this time, bud.  Stand up.  Keep going.  You have to keep going.”  Mama.  Inside his head after all.

Josh stood and started digging even faster.

“That’s more like it,” He said.  “Now I got work this afternoon, and you’re gonna stay out here and keep digging.  If you half-ass it, I’ll know.  If you try anything, I’ll know.  You got one job.  What is it?”

“Dig,” Josh said, voice flat.

“Jesus,” Mama said in his head.  “You’re safer in public, love.  See if you can go to school tomorrow--”

“--But make it seem like His idea,” Mom butted in.

Josh kept digging: “Are my teachers mad at me?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“For being absent.  I’m usually not ever.  I just thought, you know, they might be mad.”  Rambling.  Not good.  Josh was quiet, thinking, but kept his face blank.

“Can I be absent tomorrow, too?” he asked carefully.

He grinned an evil grin.  “Oh, you’re gonna be absent for a long time…”

Josh puffed out a breath.  Full-on Level 1 to help him fake it: relief.  “Awesome.  ‘Cause I have this huge test in pre-algebra coming up tomorrow, and I am not ready for it.  It’s good news I’ll miss it, right?”  Josh kept his eyes on the dirt.  Ears tuned the the rhythm of the shovel. Could practically hear the gears turning in His head.

“Oh, I think you can go to school one more day.  Can’t have you missing that test…” He said, even happier now.

Josh’s mouth dropped open.  “You said I got to be absent for a long time, though!” he exclaimed (pissed, not scared, no tears.)

“You will be.  After tomorrow.  Keep digging, dumbass.  By the way?  Your room?  Is going to Caleb,” He said over His shoulder.  “Enjoy it while you got it.”

“Where am I gonna sleep?” Josh insisted, more fake anger at His unfairness.  Keep digging.  Hard.  Josh had to make it look like he got more energy from being mad.

“Oh, I’ll find a place for you, don’t worry.  Dig.  Dumbass.”

Once He was in the house, and Josh still had his back to the door, Josh breathed out.  It worked.  It actually worked.  He couldn’t resist an opportunity to make Josh know how dumb he was, so he was going to school.

Excitement and terror crashed inside him.  School was a good Part One.  But what was he gonna do next?  How was he gonna get out of here?

“Stay focused, love.” Mama.

“We’re right with you.”  Mom.

The wind blew rustling the leaves on the trees around him:

“Stay alive,” they whispered.

Goosebumps rose on his arms.  

“I’m trying, Jacob.  I’m really trying,” Josh whispered back.

#fic: disuphere #fosters fic

[mrsbluebertgreggleson]

“Bring ‘Em Back Alive”

-100 for Lucifer trying to get what is technically his little sister to play strip poker with him. What a classy characterization we have going here.

+10 because I like Sister Annaby's outfit.

+20 for when Lucifer flipped his eyes red and said "He's a PRIORITY" to try to spook Duma and she was... very much not intimidated. She's just like, "*sigh* *fake smile* Of course!" like he's her annoying boss. I love this angel. She'd better live.

+30 for the "You sure that's what this is about? You sure it's not... personal?" about AU Charlie because oh MAN I could feel the editors just itching to drop like 10 flashbacks in that pause. Thank you guys, for the restraint.

+5 for when Dean was getting jumped because I really wanted him to look up and see Ketch hiding behind a tree, just peering out at him and cocking his eyebrow. Dean should probably know the importance of being stealthy since he's been hunting since he was a teenager, but I'll let this one slide because Sam and Dean usually are pretty inelegant in their approach to hunting, lol.

-5 for Dean: "Where were you going to take me?" Slaver: "You think I'm going to tell you?" Dean: *shoots him right in the stinkin knee* Slaver: "AAAAH!! ... okay, all right." Like dude you are SO composed, you should be crying like a baby into that snow and blubbering out answers.

-20 because it’s weird to me that the writers explore the fallout of Gabriel’s torture trauma but not so much Sam and Dean’s. Angels canonically per S4 can’t be tortured but degraced ones can and degracing is canonically extremely painful as well, so Gabriel being traumatized I can believe, and I can headcanon an explanation on torture in Hell affecting the mind differently than torture on Earth to justify why Sam and Dean are even remotely functional, but the show itself doesn’t really touch on this and really, after all the angst and suffering the Winchesters have undergone, they really should be allowed to fall apart and build back up. It’d be cathartic for the audience. The fanficcers do a way better job exploring this and I really wish the show writers would show at least some instances of Sam and Dean dealing with their issues in the day-to-day and trying to handle it as best they can. Otherwise it’s just a Trauma Conga Line and it’s harder to care about bad things happening to them when we know it’s gonna be like water off a duck’s back and never really addressed/handled.

-20 So Gabriel faked his death well enough to fool Lucifer and also God? I'd think either one of them would be able to tell whether Lucifer was killing the real deal... I mean the fake Gabriel's death looked very permanent so maybe Gabriel created a lesser angel replica of himself to bite it so the light show would convince everyone, but... idk that explanation is not a great explanation to me, I would've preferred it if he'd really died and then been resurrected (maybe from Cass waking up, maybe somehow that woke up Gabriel too and in his newly resurrected state Gabriel got captured). I also just really like how the big explanation does not at all try to explain how presumably fully powered and crafty Gabriel got captured by Lucifer's weakest creation. I have to assume he found some spell similar to the one Crowley used on Lucifer, to enslave an archangel; it's just weird that they glossed over it so completely.

-5 Also dinging them for the “Hammer of the Gods” flashbacks. Just a little, because it has been eight seasons since it happened, but still, I count it as excessive flashbacking.

-5 because that Exorcist's girl “demon” voice was very unfitting and goofy.

-10 for "Your wound might be more serious than we thought." HE GOT SHOT, DUDE. Like TV is usually pretty flippant with how serious gunshot wounds are if they're not in the heart/head, but I'm pretty sure in real life Dean would be bleeding to death no matter where he got shot, lol. Let's assume they patched him up offscreen with some secret MoL magic trick that kept him from dying.

-5 because I'm surprised Dean doesn't fight Ketch more on the cure. I think Ketch is probably honest here, but Dean obviously didn't trust him a whole hell of a lot - and Ketch could easily be poisoning him or something. I guess he figures Ketch is his only shot, he's Ketch's ride home and route to possible redemption, and Sam and Cass would kill Ketch if he came back alone, but still, Dean doesn’t forgive easily, likes to be stubborn, and give people a hard time. It’s to advance the plot faster but still a little OOC that he didn’t at least give a token protest.

-10 because shouldn’t the BMoL already know about the Winchesters' connection to Charlie? Even though they were supposed to be all researched about the Winchesters and went through their bunker and belongings and never found anything out about her?

-30 because THERE'S the sad Dean-Charlie flashbacks. I’m taking back all my restraint points.

+5 Now I want Ketch to feel bad about killing Mick, because Mick was the only cool BMoL. Five points in remembrance, cheers, mate.

-10 because what the hell, Dean is all cool with Ketch now, even after everything? That's weird, he usually holds onto grudges like a mofo. Is it because Ketch has a thing for Mary and Dean wants someone for his mom to live with? I... wouldn't think Dean would want his mom to be with anyone other than his dad, and I especially wouldn't think Ketch. It's weird Dean is doing such a turn-around on this guy he was eager to kill. Between Ketch and Benny, I guess there's just something about washed out, dirty pocket universes that makes Dean click with the guy he's with.

-5 for Sam's Inconvenient Auto-Speakerphone Phone

-5 because Sam should’ve just fuckin hung up on Asmodeus after Asmodeus was like “DON’T YOU DAHR HANG UP”. That would've been such a power move. Just keep pissing off King Dedede while he's riled.

+10 because Sister Annaby is really pretty, dang. I do like that healer-for-pay business she set up in the last (?) episode she was in, it was a good idea for Earth-bound angels. I just wish she weren't stuck in a storyline with Lucifer because he's just... the worst (or that the had not named her so similarly to my poor lost Anna). If they'd used her in a separate role and spent more time on the healer-for-pay thing, for example, that could've been a cool nugget.

-5 Shouldn't the angels have known and called her by her real name instead of "Charlie Bradbury"?

-50 ABADDON SHOULD HAVE ATTACKED THE BUNKER, DAMN IT. She should've known where it was after her first episode, she wanted the things in it, and we got a demon break-in this episode. I’m still so mad that the writers in S8/S9 didn’t do this, and I’m taking it out on this episode! MANNN.

-30 lol Sam's like, "I'm warding the bunker!" You should always have the bunker warded, my dude! Otherwise you're sitting ducks staying in one unprotected spot.

+15 Sam and Cass were sitting close enough during Asmodeus's attack that for one second I really thought one of them would reach out and hold the other one's hand while they were dying. I don't know why I thought that because the writers would never in a million years do that, but it would've been touching (and also because it would be so funny to see the fandom explode).

+100 Don't have to listen to Asmodeus ever again, yeeeee. I'm just disappointed he didn't die via punch-to-the-heart so that his killer could pull their arm out, smack their lips, and say "Finger-lickin' good", the ultimate final and best joke.

-50 Dean's whole emotional, angry blowout at the end, Sam and Cass standing all silent and scared, and I'm just thinking of "The Thing" like, "If you cared so much, maybe you should've read more fucking books last episode to help your mom sooner, Dean." Like my dude, don’t get mad that your brother and friend restored Gabriel (he also killed Asmodeus, who would’ve killed them if Gabriel wasn’t all juiced up? and SINCE he was all juiced up, how were they supposed to stop him? I get Dean’s upset and frustrated because it seems they’re all out of options, but it really seems like he’s not getting that they’re only alive because of that, and lashing out at them because he’s frustrated, which is one of his worse character traits), another one will probably fall into your lap in like... four episodes? whenever the next big plot advancement needs to happen. It’s been awhile so I don’t remember if Lucifer got his archangel grace still or not, but I think he’s recharged by now, so they can just concentrate on tracking him down. Or hey, maybe convince Rowena to pop the Cage back open and snatch some of your Michael’s grace. I just wish character development meant addressing Dean’s anger issues so that Dean’s loved ones maybe don’t flinch and get scared whenever he gets mad. Not a good look for a heroic character.

To sum it up: Pure plot episode. We were teased the idea of Dean and Ketch in Apocalypse World saving Mary and Jack, but somehow ending up too far away (is the portal opening up in different spots going to come up again?) and saving AU Charlie instead. Dean bonding so quickly with Ketch seemed hinky considering their past; since it seems like Dean might have a snarky frenemyship with Ketch in the future like the one he had with Crowley, I guess Ketch is gonna die by the end of this season since Death Equals Redemption and we need a reason for Dean to look stoically sad. I think it would’ve been more fun to leave Dean trapped in Apocalypse World to get more POV on it for the audience, maybe see some other old characters, and reunite with Jack and Mary.

Meanwhile, Gabriel recovered enough to kill the Big Bad. Sleep well, sweet Prince. You were the only thing I was looking forward to going into the season and I had high hopes you’d be cool, and much like Dagon, you were not. Hopefully the next demon Big Bad is better - maybe a white-eyed demon, so we can find out what those were compared to Knights and Princes? ... but only if it doesn’t finish ruining the demon mythos for me. I’m surprised they repowered Gabriel so quickly since I thought they brought him back to be a fan favorite member of Team Free Will and that means he can’t be too powerful, but part of his appeal is that he can snap his fingers and do whatever zany thing he wants, which would be considerably harder to pull off if he were powerless. I’m still kinda surprised that they went the route of bringing him back the way they did, but until we see more of him, I’ll have to wait to see if it was worth it in terms of character development. Still kinda weird they never explained how Asmodeus got him.

Grade: -140 Kentucky Fried Demons in the Empty

#spn #spn live react #text post

[matarabarian]

Throne of the Abyss Chapter 1

Forest groaned as the second he had opened his eyes; his entire body ached. He stared up at the sky, without a single cloud across the vast expanse of blue. Quickly, he pushed himself up and held his head in one hand. Ugh, what the… where the heck was he? Did aliens abduct him in the middle of the night or something?

He looked around seeing nothing but grass, rocks, and trees with sunlight streaming through the leaves. Forest took a moment to appreciate the irony of him being in a forest, before the panic fully set in. Where was he? Why was he here? What happened to him? Who brought him here?

“Hey!”

Forest jumped and whirled around, still sitting, as a boy ran through the woods up to him. Dark brown hair flopped over gray eyes which stared curiously down at Forest, hope springing into them. “Oh, thank God. I was afraid I was just seeing things,” the boy said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I thought I was all alone here for a second.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Forest asked, relieved to see another person.

“Just woke up a few minutes ago,” the boy said, shaking his head. “Same for you?”

“Yep,” Forest confirmed.

The boy offered him a hand and pulled Forest to his feet. “I’m Louis, what’s your name?”

“Forest.”

“Well, if that isn’t a bit of irony,” Louis muttered.

“Already realized that,” Forest replied.

Louis looked up at the sky, frowning. “Seems like it’s been day for a while now, but I don’t know how long I- we have until it gets dark again. Anyway, let’s find some more people. Survival theory and all that.”

“More people in a group, the slower you move but the more likely someone will be able to solve a problem or have a skill that allows the group to survive,” Forest said quietly. “Up to a certain point, when resources become scarce.”

“The first person I meet is not a total idiot, my luck is good today,” Louis said. He paused, then amended, “If you ignore everything else going on, that is.”

Forest had so many questions he wanted to ask the other boy, but he let them die on his tongue. Louis was in the same situation he was in, and likely didn’t know any more than he did. Asking would just annoy the other boy and Forest didn’t really want Louis to be pissed off right now, especially in this situation.

“Hm, hey, Forest? Give me advice on something,” Louis commanded suddenly, startling the green-eyed boy.

“S- sure!” Forest said, eager to be of use.

“Should we call for other people and run the risk of drawing the attention of something less friendly, or keep quiet and look around but probably not find anyone else to help us?” Louis asked.

“We’d be safer now if we kept quiet, but in the long run, it might be better to have more people,” Forest said.

“Fair point, so it’s really between sacrificing safety now to ensure security in the future, or being secure now but go forward on unstable grounds,” Louis mused. “Hm, I can’t say I want to be surrounded by a bunch of scared people, but I do want to live and as I said earlier, survival theory says we should in this situation, so I guess we have to start yelling.”

“Got it,” Forest said, then took a deep breath. “Hello? Anyone here? Any bears, cougars, or monsters stay away!”

“Hey! Anyone else out there? If anyone can hear me, come over here!” Louis yelled.

“Hello?”

Forest and Louis stopped yelling for a second when they heard the response, then started shouting at the top of their lungs. “Over here! We’re this way! Come on!” They kept rambling until they heard a crunching and a few seconds later three girls and a boy ran out of the woods. One of the girls took one look at the pair, then jumped on Forest and hugged him. “Ack!” Forest yelped. His face warmed up and he pushed her away slightly, but she just clung on tighter. “Can you get off of me?”

“Please no, I’m really scared,” she whimpered.

“I...” Forest looked down at the girl whose long light brown hair was swaying slightly in the wind and the parts that weren’t were being upset by her shaking shoulders, and hugged her tightly. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.” He felt a strong sensation, like sadness greater than he had ever felt before, and his head started spinning. Then, just as soon as it came, it was gone as he loosened his grip slightly.

“Why’s she crying?” Louis asked.

“Guessing because she’s scared, Einstein,” a blond girl with long, wavy hair and a sleeveless denim jacket said, hands on her hips.

“Now isn’t the time for crying, we need to keep our heads,” Louis ordered. “Now everyone tell me your names so we can get a move on doing whatever our next move is.”

“I’m Brittany,” the blond girl said, throwing back her hair.

“L- Lucille,” the girl clinging onto Forest’s shirt chimed in.

The only boy of the group glanced at them with disdain evident in his eyes. “Philip.”

“Call me Merry,” the black haired girl said.

“Mary, huh?” Louis said. “As if that wasn’t one of the most common names in existence.”

“Merry,” she corrected, sounding bored. “M-E-R-R-Y. Everyone makes that mistake.”

“Neat,” Louis replied, not sounding like he really cared. “I’m Louis. And this is is Forest,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Either of you idiots have any idea what’s going on?” Philip asked.

“Watch it,” Louis warned. “We can all just leave you behind. We don’t need any hindrances to our survival.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Philip snarled and Louis’ eyes narrowed.

“If I think you’re a threat, you’re not going to last long here. Strength in numbers, after all. And if you’re not a boon, you’re a danger, got it? We’re alone in an alien environment and if you think undermining me is going to help anything, you’re sorely mistaken. I will drop you if I think you’re going to cause us all to die by your refusal to be a team player, capisce?” Louis said. Everyone stared at him. He laughed nervously. “Sorry if I was a bit intense, I’m just… a little nervous, to put it lightly.”

“Yeah, okay, fine man, we’re cool,” Philip said, looking away. It appeared he had been more than a little intimidated by Louis’ speech.

“Right,” Louis said, taking a deep breath. “So how long have you been awake?”

“I dunno, five, ten minutes?” Philip said. “I had to wake these idiots up.”

“I was already awake,” Merry commented. “I just didn’t want to get up.”

“Great for you,” Brittany replied. “I had to wake up to this moron standing over me.”

“Excuse me?” Philip snapped. “I could’ve left you lying there, you know!”

“Please, you wouldn’t have,” Brittany scoffed.

“Let’s all calm down,” Louis said. “Did you see anyone else?”

“Nah, it’s just the four of us,” Philip replied.

“I see...” Louis mused. “I suppose there could potentially be more of us out there, but this group’s large enough for now. Let’s forgo looking for now and focus on figuring out where we are and how to get home.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up!” Philip snapped. “You just want to stop looking for anyone else? What if there’s another group out there? Or even worse, there are a bunch of kids out on there own? And what if they’re really young? You want to leave a preschooler or a toddler out in the middle of the woods?”

“A hypothetical preschooler or toddler,” Louis said coldly. “Besides,” he continued in a much more friendly, charismatic tone. “I doubt if, and that’s an if, there’s anyone else out there, they’d be much younger than us. It’s more likely they’d be around our age. After all, we all look like we’re in high school, right?”

Everyone took a moment to realize and appreciate this fact, then Brittany nodded. “He does have a point. There’s probably no one else and if there is, they can take care of themselves.”

“I agree,” Merry said. “I don’t want to walk around this place anymore. I just want to sit down and rest for a while.”

“I- I’m sorry, but I’m with Philip,” Lucille said. “We shouldn’t leave anyone else out there just because we were too lazy to look!”

“It isn’t laziness, it’s just logic,” Louis explained, smiling sympathetically. “I wish we could go looking, but we just can’t.”

“We can totally go looking for others!” Lucille snapped, pulling away from Forest. “We can’t just abandon the others on a whim-” she broke off and swayed where she stood, then pitched forward and would’ve fallen on her face if Forest hadn’t caught her. The others looked on in shock and fear, except for Louis.

“This is what I’m talking about. We’re all tired and if we wander around looking for people, someone is going to pass out like you almost did. It’s just logic, people. If we figure out where we are, we can figure out where shelter is, which means we can rest, and which also means we can get home faster. Not exactly rocket science,” Louis said as Lucille stumbled back onto her feet. “Come on, let’s just start walking.”

“How is that any better than looking for others?” Philip demanded.

“We won’t be shouting and attracting anything that might be hungry,” Louis replied. Philip looked concerned and didn’t protest any more. “How about Brittany and Philip bring up the rear, Merry and Lucille stay in the center, and Forest and I lead?” No one had any reason to argue. “Great, let’s start walking.”

“Hello, fellow humans!” a male voice yelled boisterously.

“Oh, look at that. We didn’t even need to search,” Louis said. “Hey there!” he greeted the boy and girl who had just ran in through the woods.

“We’ve been looking for a while for anyone else,” the girl said, rubbing her forehead. “For me specifically, anyone else other than this guy.”

“Someone’s hit it off,” Brittany commented.

“He’s tried to flirt with me every thirty seconds,” the girl replied.

“Okay, that’s… great,” Louis said. “Keep it in your pants, buddy. We’re not repopulating the earth right now.”

“Hey! I resent that implication!” the boy protested.

“Just keep away from me, loser,” Brittany said. “You don’t have a chance.”

“Can we all focus on other things?” Forest asked, right before he was struck with the same dizzying feeling from earlier. He stumbled to the side and had to lean on Louis, the other boy jumping in shock.

“What are you doing?” Louis demanded.

“S- sorry,” Forest replied, standing back up. “Just got dizzy there for a second. I’m good now.”

“That’s the second time someone has almost passed out,” Merry said, looking a little worried.

“There might be something in the air,” Louis said. “Any objections to us getting moving now, or does Philip want to make us stay here longer until someone actually falls to the ground unconscious or dies from whatever toxins were affecting Lucille and Forest?”

Philip looked at the ground and shook his head. “No, you’re right. Let’s get moving,” he growled out.

“Excellent, now come on. Everyone follow me,” Louis commanded. Forest nodded and fell into step slightly behind Louis but still beside him as everyone else followed the gray-eyed boy. Forest glanced at Louis for a second, then looked straight ahead. Louis was definitely the most likely person to become the leader of this group, if they weren’t rescued soon. He briefly wondered if he should say something to the others about the hunch he had, but pushed it aside. Even if it was true, there wasn’t much point to bringing it up. Besides, they were dealing with enough already and they’d probably find civilization before long, so they didn’t need to worry too much.

#story #books #internet books #fantasy #fantasy books #fantasy book #fantasy story #throne of the abyss