#<- he will hiss if terrence steps too close

[the-flys-buzz]

almost as if in response, he seems to VERY carefully adjust it to where the shirt is less likely to rip on his teeth!!!! yay!!!!!! its entirely an accident if he does he swears :(

also. he kinda just carrying you around. not anywhere specifically hes just having fun

hiii!!!! a. very large creature is here!!!!! it looks vaguely like your son!!!!! what the hell. it walks over and sniffs you!!!!! it seems to understand who you are and nudges you with its.... nose? it doesnt have nose though but you get it. it nudges you and it sounds like its purring!!!!!

//@the-flys-buzz (cryptid creature..... i feel like he acts like a big cat around the people he trusts in this form)

[Hi! Steven yelped. He got spooked!! But hello! Steven.. pat them on the head!!]

[96harmony96]

Chaapter 20

“Excuse me.” I pushed back from the table and searched for Lauren. I saw her at the bar and went to her.

she was just turning away from the bartender with two glasses in her hands when I intercepted her. I took my drink and gulped it down, my teeth aching as the cubes of ice knocked against them.

“Camila—” There was a soft note of chastisement in her voice.

“I’m leaving,” I said flatly, stepping around her to set my empty glass on the bar top. “I don’t consider that running, because I’m telling you in advance and giving you the option of coming with me.”

she exhaled harshly and I could see that she understood my mood. she knew I knew. “I can’t leave.”

I turned away.

she caught my arm. “You know I can’t stay if you go. You’re upset over nothing, Camila.”

“Nothing?” I stared at where her hand gripped me. “I warned you I get upset and jealous. This time, you’ve given me good reason.”

“Warning me is supposed to excuse you when you get ridiculous about it?” Her face was relaxed, her voice low and calm. No one looking from a distance would pick up on the tension between us, but it was there in her eyes. Burning lust and icy fury. she was so good at putting those two together.

“Who’s ridiculous? What about Daniel, the personal trainer? Or Martin, a member of my stepfamily?” I leaned closer and whispered, “I’ve never fucked either of them, let alone agreed to a marriage! I sure as hell don’t talk to them every damn day!”

Abruptly, she caught me by the waist and hauled me up tight against her. “You need to be fucked now,” she hissed in my ear, nipping the lobe with her teeth. “I shouldn’t have made us wait.”

“Maybe you were planning ahead,” I shot back. “Saving it up in case an old flame popped back into your life, one you’d prefer to screw instead.”

Lauren tossed back her drink; then she secured me to her side with a steely arm around my waist and led me through the crowd to the door. she pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and ordered the limo brought around. By the time we reached the street, the long, sleek car was there. Lauren pushed me through the door Angus held open and told him, “Drive around the block until I say otherwise.”

Then she slid in directly behind me, so closely I could feel her breath against my bare back. I scrambled toward the opposite seat, determined to get away from her….

“Stop,” she snapped.

I sank to my knees on the carpeted floor, breathing hard. I could run to the ends of the earth and I still wouldn’t be able to escape the fact that Corinne Giroux had to be better for Lauren than I was. She was calm and cool, a soothing presence even to me—the person freaking out over the unwelcome fact of her existence. My worst nightmare.

Her hand twisted into my loose hair, restraining me. Her spread legs surrounded mine, her grip tightening so that my head was pulled back gently to touch her shoulder. “I’m going to give you what we both need, camila. We’re going to fuck as long as it takes to dull the edge enough to get through dinner. And you’re not going to worry about Corinne, because while she’s inside the ballroom, I’ll be deep inside you.”

“Yes,” I whispered, licking dry lips.

“You forget who submits, Camila,” she said gruffly. “I’ve given up control for you. I’ve bent and adjusted for you. I’ll do anything to keep you and make you happy. But I can’t be tamed or topped. Don’t mistake indulgence for weakness.”

I swallowed hard, my blood on fire for her. “Lauren…”

“Reach up with both hands and hold on to the grab handle above the window. Don’t let go until I tell you, understand?”

I did as she ordered, pushing my hands through the leather loop. As my grip secured, my body sparked to life, making me aware of how right she was about what I needed. she knew me so well, this lover of mine.

Shoving her hands into my bodice, Lauren squeezed my full, aching breasts. When she rolled and tugged my nipples, my head lolled against her, the tension leaving my body in a rush.

“God.” she nuzzled her mouth against my temple. “It’s so perfect when you give yourself over to me like that…all at once, as if it’s a huge relief.”

“Fuck me,” I begged, needing the connection. “Please.”

Releasing my hair, she reached under my dress and pulled my panties down my thighs. Her jacket flew past me to land on the seat; then her hand pushed between my legs from the front. she growled at finding me wet and swollen. “You were made for me, Camila. You can’t go long without me inside you.”

Still she primed me, running her skilled fingers through my cleft, spreading the moisture over my clit and the lips of my sex. she pushed two fingers into me, scissoring them, preparing me for the thrust of her long, thick cock.

“Do you want me, Lauren?” I asked hoarsely, needing to ride her thrusting fingers, but hampered by how far I had to reach to grab the strap.

“More than my next breath.” Her lips moved over my throat and the top of my shoulder, the warm velvet of her tongue sliding seductively across my skin. “I can’t go long without you either, Camila. You’re an addiction…my obsession…”

Her teeth bit gently into my flesh, conveying her animal need with a rough sound of desire. All the while she fucked me with her fingers, her other hand massaging my clit, making me come again and again from the simultaneous stimulation.

“Lauren!” I gasped, when my damp fingers began to slip from the leather.

Her hands left me and I heard the erotic rasp of her zipper lowering. “Let go and lie on your back with your legs spread.”

I moved to the seat and stretched along it, offering my body to her in quivering anticipation. Her gaze met mine, her face briefly lit by a passing swathe of headlights.

“Don’t be afraid.” she came over me, setting her weight onto me with excruciating care.

“I’m too horny to be scared.” I caught her and pulled my body up to press against the hardness of her. “I want you.”

Her cock head nudged against the lips of my sex. With a flex of her hips, she pushed into me, her breath hissing just as mine did at the searing connection. I went lax against the seat, my fingers barely clinging to her lean waist.

“I love you,” I whispered, watching her face as she began to move. Every inch of my skin burned as if from the sun, and my chest was so tight with longing and emotion that it was hard to breathe. “And I need you, Lauren.”

“You have me,” she whispered, her cock sliding in and out. “I couldn’t be more yours.”

I quivered and tensed, my hips meeting her relentlessly measured drives. I climaxed with a breathless cry, shuddering as the ecstasy rippled through my sex, milking her until she grunted and started powering into me.

“Camila.”

I rocked into her ferocious lunges, urging her on. she clutched at me, riding me hard and fast. My head thrashed and I moaned shamelessly, loving the feel of her, that decadent sensation of being possessed and ruthlessly pleasured.

We were wild for each other, fucking like feral beasts, and I was so turned on by our primal lust I thought I’d die from the orgasm building inside me.

“You’re so good at this, Lauren. So good…”

she gripped my buttock and yanked me up to meet her next thrust, hitting the end of me, forcing a gasp of pleasure/pain from my throat. I came again, clenching down hard on her.

“Ah, God. Camila.” With a serrated groan, she erupted violently, flooding me with her heat. Pinning my hips, she ground against me, emptying herself as deep in me as she could get.

When she finished, she sucked in a harsh breath and gathered my hair in her hands, kissing the side of my damp throat. “I wish you knew what you do to me. I wish I could tell you.”

I held her tightly. “I can’t help it that I’m stupid over you. It’s just too much, Lauren. It’s—”

“—uncontrollable.” she started over again, thrusting rhythmically. Leisurely. As if we had all the time in the world. Thickening and lengthening with each push and pull.

“And you need control.” I lost my breath on a particularly masterful stroke.

“I need you, Camila.” Her gaze was fierce on my face as she moved inside me. “I need you.”

Lauren didn’t leave my side, or allow me to leave her, the rest of the evening. she kept her right hand linked with my left all the way through dinner, once again choosing to eat one-handed rather than release her hold on me.

Corinne—who’d taken a seat on the other side of her at our table—gave her a curious look. “I seem to remember you being right-handed.”

“I still am,” she said, lifting our joined hands from under the table and kissing my fingertips. I felt foolish and insecure when she did that—and conscious of Corinne’s scrutiny.

Unfortunately, the romantic gesture didn’t keep her from talking to Corinne throughout the meal, not me—which left me feeling fidgety and unhappy. I saw more of the back of lauren’s head than her face.

“At least it’s not chicken.”

I turned my head toward the man sitting beside me. I’d been so focused on trying to eavesdrop on Lauren’s conversation that I hadn’t paid any mind to our tablemates.

“I like chicken,” I said. And I had liked the tilapia served for dinner—I’d cleaned my plate.

“Not rubberized, certainly.” He grinned and suddenly looked much younger than his pure white hair would suggest. “Ah, there’s a smile,” he murmured. “And it’s a beautiful one.”

“Thank you.” I introduced myself.

“Dr. Terrence Lucas,” he said. “But I prefer Terry.”

“Dr. Terry. It’s lovely to meet you.”

He smiled again. “Just Terry, Camila.”

Over the course of the few minutes we’d spoken, I’d come to believe Dr. Lucas wasn’t a whole lot older than me, just prematurely gray. Aside from that, his face was handsome and unlined, his green eyes intelligent and kind. I revised my guesstimate of his age to be mid-to-late thirties.

“You look as bored as I feel,” he said. “These events raise a considerable amount of money for the shelter, but they can be dull. Would you like to accompany me to the bar? I’ll buy you a drink.”

Beneath the table, I tested Lauren’s grip by flexing my hand. Hers tightened.

“What are you doing?” she murmured.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw her watching me. Then I watched her gaze lift as Dr. Lucas stood behind me. Lauren’s gaze noticeably cooled.

“She’s going to alleviate the boredom of being ignored, Jauregui,” Terry said, setting his hands on the back of my chair, “by spending time with someone who’s more than happy to pay attention to such a beautiful woman.”

I was immediately uncomfortable, aware of the crackling animosity between the two. I tugged on her hand, but Lauren wouldn’t release me.

“Walk away, Terry,” Lauren warned.

“You’ve been so preoccupied with Mrs. Giroux, you didn’t even notice when I sat at your table.” Terry’s smile took on an edge. “Camila. Shall we?”

“Don’t move, Camila.”

I shivered at the ice in Lauren’s voice, but felt stung enough to say, “It’s not his fault he has a point.”

Lauren’s grip tightened painfully. “Not now.”

Terry’s gaze moved to my face. “You don’t have to tolerate her talking to you that way. All the money in the world doesn’t give anyone the right to order you around.”

Infuriated and horribly embarrassed, I looked at Lauren. “Crossfire.”

I wasn’t sure I could use the safeword outside of the bedroom, but she released me as if I’d burned her. I shoved my chair back and threw my napkin onto my plate. “Excuse me. Both of you.”

With my clutch in hand, I walked away from the table, my stride easy and smooth. I made a beeline toward the restrooms, intending to freshen my makeup and collect myself, but then I saw the lighted exit sign and went with my urge to bail.

I pulled out my smartphone when I hit the sidewalk and texted Lauren; Not running. Just leaving.

I managed to hail a passing cab, and headed home to nurse my anger.

I was jonesing for a hot bath and a bottle of wine when I reached my apartment. Shoving my key into the lock, I turned the knob and stepped into a porn video.

In the few shocked seconds it took for my brain to register what I was seeing, I stood riveted on the threshold, flooding the hallway behind me with blaring technopop. There were so many body parts involved, I had time to hastily slam the door behind me before I pieced them all together. One woman was spread-eagled on the floor. Another woman’s face was in her crotch. Cary was banging the hell out of her while another man was drilling him in the ass.

I threw my head back and screamed bloody murder, completely fed up with everyone in my life. And because I was competing with the sound system, I ripped off one of my heels and threw it in that direction. The CD skipped, which jolted the ménage a quatre in progress on my living room floor into awareness of my presence. I limped over and shut off the volume; then faced the lot of them.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” I snapped. “Right now.”

“Who the hell is that?” the redhead at the bottom of the pile asked. “Your wife?”

There was a brief flash of embarrassment and guilt on Cary’s face, and then he shot me a cocky smile. “My roommate. There’s room for more, baby girl.”

“Cary Taylor. Don’t push me,” I warned. “It’s really, really not a good night.”

The dark-haired male on top disengaged from Cary and stood, sauntering toward me. As he got closer, I saw his hazel eyes were unnaturally dilated and the pulse in his neck was throbbing viciously. “I can make it better,” he offered with a leer.

“Back the fuck up.” I adjusted my stance, preparing to ward him off physically if necessary.

“Leave her alone, Ian,” Cary snapped, pushing to his feet.

“Come on, baby girl,” Ian coaxed, making me sick by using Cary’s pet name for me. “You need a good time. Let me show you one.”

One minute he was inches in front of me, the next he was sailing into the couch with a scream. Lauren moved into place between me and the others, vibrating with fury. “Take it to your room, Cary,” he bit out. “Or take it somewhere else.”

Ian was squealing on my sofa, his nose spraying blood despite the two hands he tried to staunch it with.

Cary snatched his jeans off the floor. “You’re not my fucking mother, Camila.”

I sidestepped around Lauren. “Wasn’t screwing up with Trey enough of a fucking lesson for you, you idiot?”

“This isn’t about Trey!”

“Who’s Trey?” The bottle blonde asked as she got to her feet. When she caught a good look at Lauren, she visibly preened, showing off an admittedly pretty body.

Her efforts earned her a glance so disdainfully dismissive and unimpressed that she finally had the grace to blush and cover herself with a slinky gold lamé dress she picked up off the floor. And because I was in a mood, I said, “Don’t take it personally. He prefers blondes.”

The look Lauren shot me was lethal. I’d never seen her look so livid. she was literally vibrating with suppressed violence.

Frightened by that glare, I took an involuntary step back. she cursed viciously and shoved both of her hands through her hair.

Suddenly bone weary and desperately disappointed with the men in my life, I turned away. “Get this mess out of my house, Cary.”

I headed down the hallway, kicking off my other heel en route. I was out of my dress before I reached my bathroom and in the shower less than a minute beyond that. I stayed out of the range of the spray until the water warmed, and then I stood directly beneath it. Too tired to stand for long, I sank to the floor and just sat beneath the stream with my eyes closed and my arms wrapped around my knees.

“Camila.”

I cringed when I heard Lauren’s voice, and tucked into an even tighter ball.

“Goddamn it,” she snapped. “You piss me off worse than anyone else I know.”

I looked at her through the veil of my wet hair. she was pacing the length of my bathroom, her jacket shed somewhere and her shirt untucked. “Go home, Lauren.”

she halted and shot me an incredulous look. “I’m not fucking leaving you here. Cary’s lost his damned mind! That amped-up asshole was seconds away from putting his hands on you when I got here.”

“Cary wouldn’t have let that happen. But either way, I can’t deal with him and you at the same time.” I didn’t want to deal with either of them, actually. I just wanted to be alone.

“Then you’ll just deal with me.”

I scooped my hair back from my face with an impatient swipe of my hand. “Oh? I’m supposed to make you the priority?”

she recoiled as if I’d hit her. “I was under the impression we were both each other’s priorities.”

“Yeah, I thought that, too. Until tonight.”

“Jesus. Will you drop it with Corinne already?” she spread her arms wide. “I’m here with you, aren’t I? I barely said good-bye to her because I was chasing after you. Again.”

“Fuck you. Don’t do me any favors.”

Lauren lunged into the shower fully dressed. she yanked me to my feet and kissed me. Hard. Her mouth devoured mine, her hands gripping my upper arms to hold me in place.

But I didn’t soften this time. I didn’t give in. Even when she tried coaxing me with lush, suggestive licks.

“Why?” she muttered, her lips sliding down to my throat. “Why are you driving me insane?”

“I don’t know what your problem is with Dr. Lucas, and I honestly don’t give a shit. But he was right. Corinne got way too much of your attention tonight. You pretty much ignored me during dinner.”

“It’s impossible for me to ignore you, Camila.” Her face was hard and tight. “If you’re in the same room with me, I don’t see anyone else.”

“Funny. Every time I looked at you, you were looking at her.”

“This is stupid.” she released me and shoved the wet hair out of her face. “You know how I feel about you.”

“Do I? You want me. You need me. But do you love Corinne?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. No.” she shut the water off, caging me to the glass with both arms. “You want me to tell you I love you, Camila? Is that what this is about?”

My stomach cramped as if she’d struck me with the full force of her fist. I’d never felt that kind of pain before, hadn’t known it existed. My eyes burned and I ducked under her arm before I embarrassed myself by crying. “Go home, Lauren. Please.”

“I am home.” she caught me from behind and buried her face in my soaked hair. “I’m with you.”

I struggled to get free, but I was too wiped out. Physically. Emotionally. The tears came in a torrent and I couldn’t stop them. And I hated crying in front of anyone. “Go away. Please.”

“I love you, Camila. Of course I do.”

“Oh my God.” I kicked at her, flailing. Anything to get away from the person who’d become a massive source of pain and misery. “I don’t want your fucking pity. I just want you to go away.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t. Camila, stop fighting. Listen to me.”

“Everything you’re saying hurts, Lauren.”

“It’s not the right word, Camila,” she pressed on stubbornly, her lips at my ear. “That’s why I haven’t said it. It’s not the right word for you and what I feel for you.”

“Shut up. If you care about me at all, you’ll just shut up and go away.”

“I’ve been loved before—by Corinne, by other women…But what the hell do they know about me? What the hell are they in love with when they don’t know how fucked up I am? If that’s love, it’s nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

I stilled, trembling, my gaze on the mirror’s reflection of my mascara-smeared face and bedraggled wet hair next to Lauren’s ravaged beauty. Her features were overcome by volatile emotion as she wrapped herself tightly around me. We looked all wrong for each other.

And yet I understood the alienation of being around others who couldn’t really see you or chose not to. I’d felt the self-loathing that came with being a fraud, portraying an image of what you wished you could be but weren’t. I’d lived with the fear that the people you loved might turn away from you if they ever got to know the true person hidden inside.

“Lauren—”

Her lips touched my temple. “I think I loved you the moment I saw you. Then we made love that first time in the limo and it became something else. Something more.”

“Whatever. You cut me off that night and left me behind to take care of Corinne. How could you, Lauren?”

she released me only long enough to scoop me up and carry me over to where my bathrobe hung from a hook on the back of the door. she bundled me up; then had me sit on the edge of the tub while she went to the sink and pulled my makeup removal wipes out of the drawer. Crouching in front of me, she stroked the cloth over my cheek.

“When Corinne called during the advocacy dinner, it was the perfect time to make me do something stupid.” Her gaze was soft and warm on my tear-streaked face. “You and I had just made love, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I told her I was busy and that I was with someone, and when I heard the pain in her voice, I knew I had to deal with her so I could move forward with you.”

“I don’t understand. You left me behind for her. How does that move us forward?”

“I screwed up with Corinne, Camila.” she tilted my chin back to rub at my raccoon eyes. “I met her my first year at Columbia. I noticed her, of course. She’s beautiful and sweet, and never had an unkind word to say about anyone. When she pursued me, I let myself be caught and she became my first consensual sexual experience.”

“I hate her.”

That made her mouth curve slightly.

“I’m not kidding, Lauren. I’m sick with jealousy right now.”

“It was just sex with her, angel. As raw as you and I fuck, it’s still making love. Every time, from the very first time. You’re the only one who’s ever gotten to me that way.”

I heaved out a breath. “Okay. I’m marginally better.”

she kissed me. “I guess you could say we dated. We were exclusive sexually and we often ended up going to the same places as a couple. Still, when she told me she loved me, I was surprised. And flattered. I cared about her. I enjoyed spending time with her.”

“Still do, apparently,” I muttered.

“Keep listening.” she chastised me with a tap of her finger to the end of my nose. “I thought maybe I might love her, too, in my own way…the only way I knew how. I didn’t want her to be with anyone else. So I said yes when she proposed.”

I jerked back to look at her. “She proposed?”

“Don’t look so shocked,” she said wryly. “You’re bruising my ego.”

Relief flooded me in a rush that made me dizzy. I threw myself at her, hugging her as tight as I could.

“Hey.” Her returning embrace was just as fierce. “You okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m getting there.” I pulled back and cupped her jaw in my hand. “Keep going.”

“I said yes for all the wrong reasons. After two years of hanging out, we’d never spent a full night together. Never talked about any of the things I talk to you about. She didn’t know me, not really, and yet I convinced myself that being loved at all was something to hang on to. Who else was going to do it right, if not her?”

she moved her attention to my other eye, cleaning away the black streaks. “I think she was hoping that being engaged would take us to a different level. Maybe I’d open up more. Maybe we’d stay the night at the hotel—which she thought was romantic, by the way—instead of calling it an early night because of classes in the morning. I don’t know.”

I thought it sounded terribly lonely. My poor Lauren. she’d been alone for so long. Maybe her whole life.

“And maybe when she broke it off after a year,” she went on, “she was hoping that would kick-start things, too. That I’d make a bigger effort to keep her. Instead, I was relieved because I’d started to realize it was going to be impossible to share a home with her. What excuse was I going to come up with to sleep in separate rooms and have my own space?”

“You never considered telling her?”

“No.” she shrugged. “Until you, I didn’t consider my past an issue. Yes, it affected certain ways I did things, but everything had its place and I wasn’t unhappy. In fact, I thought I had a comfortable and uncomplicated life.”

“Oh, boy.” My nose wrinkled. “Hello, Mr. Comfortable. I’m Miss Complicated.”

Her grin flashed. “Never a dull moment.”

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 61: Ряженье

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 28. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Needles, drug use. Preparations for the nuclear winter solstice.

_______________________________

A tall figure moved about Reese’s dwelling, tending to various materiel, some salvaged, and the rest likely requisitioned from the Deenwood Compound. ‘Choly stepped inside at a caution, rubbing at his shorn neck. He eyed the open space, expecting Reese. His face drooped when the figure faced him. Theirs mirrored his, their mouth open only partly as they eyed him.

‘Choly ineffectually cleared the viscosity in his mouth. Like Bones, Reese had not yet put their mask back on either. He scarce could recognize the Furriers’ leader from his memory of them at the Unfolding, though the vibrant purple and green garments seemed similar to what they’d worn the first time he’d met them. Terrence and Irene’s body now met near full, standard symmetry, save Irene’s extra eye in their left cheek.

“A Vault Dweller, then.” As Reese spoke, ‘Choly noted they had retained their lemniscate dentition. The eight foot tall figure’s lips became a thin line, and they unstuck to pull back their two-tone hair and pace. The smoke had remained to their voice, though now with a neatness to modulation and trachea it had not held prior. “This is where you slept. Are there other officers in your Vault?”

His gaze fell anywhere but on Reese.

“...A JAG Corps lawyer,” he answered, after doing everything he could not to think too hard about the two enlisted. “Really, it’s just me now. Is it a problem?”

“It simply explains a great deal about you. Deeper than the surface. Take, for instance, that you first made yourself more recognizable as an officer when we first met, sooner than wear something with distinct protective benefit. Either you valued concealing your involvement with a Vault, or you did truly awaken very recently, and have no concept yet just how valuable a Vault Suit even is.”

“It’s really nothing that deep,” he lied, laughing off being read. He rubbed at his upper arm. “I just had to change because my uniform to ruined at The Unfold--”

Reese guffawed, transfixed with enthusiasm, and turned heel with an intense glare.

“You see why we discard it all so far in advance! Tell me The Unfolding was everything you expected, Colonel.”

Locked up how to even begin to reply, ‘Choly nodded emphatically, eyes wide and obeisant as he looked up at Reese. Every other Furrier had grown more asymmetrical, more arcane, more everything from The Unfolding, but not their sachem--and somehow, that beguiled him more than anything about the whole ordeal. They clapped their two hands together with urgent delight, flashing him back to gravity.

“It warms me, to know this. We must discuss battle strategy. Earlier you sounded like you had a plan. The General will be contributing her service.”

‘Choly shifted between enamorment and frustration.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement. I’m getting a little tired of being told what I’m supposed to accomplish only after I’ve been cornered into agreeing to it.”

Reese calmed in the rebuff.

“It’s only right.”

‘Choly detailed his understanding, but he lost track of everything spilling out of him, troubled by his infatuation with Reese prior to The Unfolding. Or rather, its absence--now that Reese looked comparatively normal, the magnetism had faded. A recap of everything Liv had discussed with him came, without him really grasping he’d articulated it. His brow strained. He felt more predatory than usual, how his attraction to Reese could simply evaporate in a matter of hours.

He realized at some point that Reese and he had both spoken, but he retained nothing from the exchange. The dialogue waxed looping and incoherent in places, for both of them even, perhaps. At one point, he could have sworn Reese went on that the memories of the Rust Devil tributes had dispersed throughout the Furriers, and that they’d gained gained some tactical advantage in this way. He glanced down at his Pip-Boy, wondering with a petulant absence if he could attribute this brain fog as a side effect of the X-Cell-Squared wearing off. The vitals menu either yielded cryptic results, or his faculties had waned that thin.

Fidgeting idly, he noticed the device had saved a draft. He nodded to himself. It comforted him a bit, that he didn’t have to open it, to know what it was. He’d have to survive the rush, if not just to edit the draft into some enjoyable, viscously detailed reading.

Bones stood again in the doorway, politely waiting her turn to speak as usual. It took some time for the two of them to wave her in, and she smiled to them graciously. Reese snorted and shooed at ‘Choly with the stern protectiveness of a sibling-turned-parent.

“We pick our masks fresh again after The Unfolding,” Reese reminded as Bones took one of ‘Choly’s arms in two of hers. “Be certain to confirm yourself before we leave, Colonel. Thirty minutes, like you said. Not a minute more.”

He could do little more than nod. His heart swapped places with some other organ as the Mistress of Ceremonies dragged him along. It had been one thing, for the Furriers to have outsmarted the Devils with pit and wire traps, on their own property. It would be another entirely, for them to outpace the raiders on the Devils’ terrain. The whole thing felt like a test he hadn’t studied for.

Between Reese’s house and the Reservoir House, he noticed Angel milling idly, transparent in its proximity but also in a deliberateness to keep its distance. He’d have to apologize after Bones had finished with him.

Bones held out the coat for him to inspect. He reached out to run a cautious, gloved hand along the cobalt ultramarine jacquard brocade, jaw slack in distant admiration. It scarcely anymore resembled the white colonel’s coat he’d worn into Voire, between the lining and the turned long-pile peppered fur collar. He pulled back, to remove his rifle and Pip-Boy just long enough for him to slip it on. She gleefully helped him into it, delighting in his features as she fluffed at the collar.

Blood-borne diseases. He clipped his Pip-Boy back on and frowned meaninglessly to himself. The Vault Suit had synced to the Pip-Boy for more comprehensive physiological diagnostics. He swallowed hard to shove down the dread of inevitability. On the one hand, it had told him at the gold course that he had not contracted anything from the Bloodbug stab; but on the other, it had attempted to speculate just about everything else. He gave the device a plaintive touch. Please, never tell me that I fucked up trusting Liv.

His chin bobbled down into the fur, trying to connect their lines of sight while also looking over his glasses.

“Why... why was it necessary to redo the lining before we rush the Devils?”

“The officer’s martial coat had good leather to work from.” She smoothed down his lapels, and briefly broke their gaze to intimately trace at the twin Pharm Corps insignias she’d already pinned in place for him. “Leather has always been the best protection from the postwar elements anyone could hope for. We’ve named ourselves the Furriers, because we learned to survive radiation thanks to tanning and fiber craft. It’s unfortunate that we only had the one source of human leather at the moment’s notice, as it’s the zenith of rad resistance when tanned properly. But leather’s only effective against energy, not mass. I replaced the lining with something not just formidable against the rest, but,” she smiled sweetly to herself, “beautifully fitting of you. I hope the choice of pattern pleases you. It’s the only fabric I had on hand in the right color for you.”

He stood silent, simply running his gloves over the fur time and again. The coat now reminded him of a shuba. Except this one will protect me from the nuclear winter. The floral jacquard brocade reminded him of Hubflower, the way the vaguely iridescent pattern picked up both lavenders and ultramarines. He sniffed, locked up between that juvenile nostalgia again and the fidelity the garment now carried.

“Hub suits me more than I can say. Thank you, Bones.”

He put a hand to her cheek, and watched her watching him. Their lips closed in on one another’s.

A Furrier with a black cat mask and long stringy dark hair burst into the Reservoir House, donning a mix of oiled leather and military twill. Despite still carrying the silhouette of having a head on his shoulders, his arms sprouted from his hips. He pointed at ‘Choly, who jerked back like he’d been caught.

“Sticks said you’d be here. We should’ve left for the rush hours ago! Why should we listen to you! Can’t even handle your root!”

“Felix!” Bones hissed. “Watch your tongue. It was his first time!”

“And it’ll be the Devils’ first time, too. This isn’t Sanctuary! You don’t think--”

“--Don’t you THINK,” Angel entered at a roar behind him, “that you ought to show your commanding officer a little more respect!”

“Sanctuary.” The word fell from ‘Choly like bile. He knew the man meant it as a name, not an idea. “I don’t think what?”

Felix had to think twice before he spoke again, his head whipping around to account time and again for the number of people now in the workshop.

“Sir, with all due respect--and there’s so little. You don’t think it’s going to be a cake walk, do you? Be part of some elite group where you get to shelter yourself from the chaos whenever it’s convenient for you? This may still look loosely like a military outfit, but understand this, and understand it well: We stand with you, not beneath you. Not for a second. Not with who you are.”

A look gnarled ‘Choly’s face, like he’d mistakenly bitten into something rotten. His head barely would give him the words to put in his mouth.

“Excuse me?” His face righted just enough to form a response. “Where was this vitriol and doubt before The Unfolding?”

“Your little fainting spell just proved how frail you are. Whatever being in that hole in the ground did to you, you aren’t fit for command anymore. If you can’t handle your Root, you don’t have the Endurance to stay afloat in a fight.”

“I’m the one to make that measure,” Angel insisted. “Not. You.”

It put itself between the Furrier and ‘Choly. ‘Choly nearly squeaked in resignation that Felix was right, of course he had the constitution of... wet cardboard, wasn’t it? Felix took a hostile step forward, and Angel squared up, drawing its lasers.

“Go ahead and hide behind your baby blue cotillion bot, Colonel Carey. At the end of the day, we all report back to Reese, not your-- you.”

Bones glared at him, fists clenched.

“Felix, save this for the Devils.”

“He’s sure a demon I could put to rest,” Felix muttered, showing himself out.

‘Choly wheezed once he felt safer.

“What was all that about. Angel, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“I’m sure you could’ve handled it just fine without me,” the Mister Handy started. He couldn’t discern from its tone whether Angel had intended it as a jab.

“Well I’m certainly glad that you swooped in after him,” Bones disagreed. “Between you and me, we must keep Melancholy in one piece. Am I right, D.I. Angel?”

“I didn’t know you brought the Vault Suit,” he appreciated, sheepish.

“Well, I couldn’t very well have let you get off without a change of clothes, now, could I? What sort of Automatron would I be!”

“You really do all you can to provide for me. You even know what I need without me voicing it.” ‘Choly lost his fingers in the fur again, his eyes distant. “Food, safety, security.” His wet eyes picked up, feeling a fleeting clarity. “Security. You’re home, moy Angel. ...Ty dom.”

“Oh, Sir... I turned you loose to the Furriers because I trusted Mister Hawthorne’s statement that X-Root and X-Squared are incompatible. Worst case scenario, you got a scare. Best case scenario, you enjoyed yourself. Sir... Sir, I can’t tell if you trust me anymore, to put your best interests in priority. And you must, if we plan to survive this full assault.”

“Of course I trust you. The... worry’s been whether you trusted me. I have to be honest with you, Angel. I’ve... I’ve been scared to navigate our arrangement, so I’ve avoided it altogether. Even when I thought chems might help.” His pale face shimmered as his breathing got heavier, and his ears stuffed up the harder he focused on keeping his train of thought in utter earnest. “Day’s already been hell, even before the X-Squared wore off too fast. I don’t think I can get through this day without chems, Angel. I feel the only way we’re getting through this is with a fistful of Stimpaks and Calmex.”

“You and I have an agreement, Mister Carey. You’re asking me to administer chems, and you’re asking me politely, at that. You replaced my worn out Nanny attachments with those in better condition. Let’s try them out, shall we?”

“I. Yes, please.” He stared at it, fumbling and dumbstruck that the understood one another so immediately. “Perhaps, just a dose of Med-X for now. If you could. Please.”

He pulled his left arm from its sleeve, and rolled up the Vault Suit just enough to bare his antecubital fold to the robot. It complied with delicate precision and without hesitation. Once he’d smoothed his garment back down, he leaned his forehead against Angel’s chassis, and it held a tendril against his back.

“Where do you suppose Sticks has gotten off to?”

“He’s doing a once-over on the Riverhawk before we head out, Sir. I’ll take you to him, if you must. We’re wasting daylight, the longer we dally so.”

‘Choly nodded. He looked to Bones.

“You’re the two piloting machines.” She urged them on with a certain distance in her eyes, as though it all made sense.

He walked up to her, and held one of her shoulders. Then, he pressed his lips to hers. Her lurid intensity drew him in with all six arms as she pressed back, the two of them coaxed rather than repulsed by the effect on her activated flesh.

“We’re going to get through this in one piece,” ‘Choly told her with a crooked smile.

“Out of many, one,” she agreed, with an even more crooked smile.

‘Choly took up the Syringer rifle and attempted to mount Angel. He struggled to hoist himself up steady on the foot pegs, but managed much better once he wrapped a fist in the juryrigged chain-belt reins and leaned over the top of the Mister Handy. Once it had tared to his weight, it spirited him out of the workshop, around the Christian Hill Reservoir, and to Ick’s house.

“Oh, good.” Sticks only looked up long enough to confirm he’d heard and seen right. “You’re done speaking with Reese. And playing dress-up, apparently. --Don’t... take that as ignorance. I know Bones was played your quartermaster.”

‘Choly didn’t feel confident in his ability to get back up a second time, so he stayed mounted atop Angel. He shoved down a frown as the heaviness of the painkiller hit.

“Are you going to be all right, Jacob?”

“Can’t take the Ick outta Sticks.” An exhaustive silence transpired while Sticks stuck his head back in the passenger side window, fishing through things he and Felix had loaded up. “It’s good you’re up there. Should’ve stayed atop Angel. You’d have been safe up there.”

“Doesn’t matter what I should’ve done. Does it?” He murmured to himself in a vague lyric, trying to find the words. “No, it does matter. Of course it does. But we can’t stand around sorting out what that means. We have war ahead.”

“Best thing I’ve heard all day!” Felix hollered from the driver’s seat, slapping the wheel. “Guns blazing!”

“Straight shot down to Back Central,” Sticks agreed, hoisting himself up into the back of the truck, where his mounted Flamer awaited him. As he stood in place, he glanced to ‘Choly. “You, leading the charge, and us, heading up the back... It works out, to have had the extra ninety minutes before heading out. We’re more together than we would’ve been without it.”

“I’m glad to be favorable.”

Felix turned the engine over, and they made their way out to the entry point of Voire. Any Furriers who had not yet taken up a mask chose theirs from a pile, then joined their neighbors standing ready for their commanding officer. ‘Choly remembered that Reese had urged him to confirm himself as well, but he didn’t feel right taking one of their masks. He reached into Angel’s storage, and produced his burlap sack hood. It had always hidden his identity, but masks provided the Furriers theirs. With this freakish crew marching through Lowell clad in masks and bright colors, he couldn’t help but imagine them as mummers. What dragon might they slay today?

“Ghost,” he murmured, smoothing it down under his coat collar. “Burlap. Sack. Ghost.”

‘Choly waved them all on, to follow out of Voire. As Angel flew backwards, he watched the Riverhawk get further away from him. He resigned to requesting the aforementioned Calmex and Stimpak, which Angel administered to his throat. He stood resolute, riding standing-saddle. The sky darkened to the East behind them. They brought the night.

Night was longest in the winter. He couldn’t help but feel more the part of Kara-chun, than ‘Choly-ada. And it tickled an important part of him.

His mind played Sticks’s voice as he again faced the front.

You’re just a ghost, Mindy. Well, hell’s full ‘cause the Devils are all here. And they’re going to have to deal with us.

Go to Next »»»

[notveryglittery]

all i want for christmas (is a break)

summary: it's virgil's first real christmas with the others. it doesn't go as well as they'd all like.  words: 2,400 / ships: platonic lamp (prinxiety & analogical focus) warnings: fighting, miscommunication. lmk if i need to add any! notes: this is prompt 7 from @sanderssidescelebrations​, secret santa! i hope that you like it! <3 

read on ao3 | @fandersfic-lamp​ 

“There is absolutely no reason to panic,” Logan said in a tone that was very much bordering on panicked.

“It has to be perfect,” Roman snapped without looking up from the notebook he was furiously scribbling in. The words were hardly legible, given the impatience he was writing with. It’d be safe to assume, however, that they were gift ideas, each more extravagant than the last.

Patton was pacing through the living room; he looped around the coffee table and down the hall towards the entry into the kitchen, back again passed the staircase, and by the entertainment center, before he tread the same path once more. He was wringing his hands together and muttering under his breath, occasionally biting at a fingernail or scrubbing a palm against his cheek.

Virgil appeared as if from thin air, though he really had taken the steps one at a time, had any of the others been paying enough attention. For a moment, he watched quietly from his spot. Guilt tore through him. This was his fault, after all. It would be the first Secret Santa that Thomas was participating in since Virgil had shared his name and they’d begun to accept him into their group.

Patton, of course, noticed his presence first.

“Virgil!” He cried, stumbling in how suddenly he came to a halt. He approached, taking Virgil’s hands in his own. He seemed too distressed to realize what an invasion of privacy this was. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Are you?” Roman snarked in the same breath Virgil muttered it.

Patton sent a sharp glare over his shoulder to Roman, who didn’t see it anyway, as he was still writing.

“Of course,” Patton reassured, looking to Virgil with wide eyes. “I have a tiny little favor to ask of you, though.”

Virgil stiffened and slowly pulled his hands free of Patton’s hold. “… What’s that? 

“Can you maybe,” Patton began, clasping his own hands together and pressing them against his chest, “perhaps if you’re able… No big deal if you aren’t! It might just help if… Well, it’s just so hard to focus, you see…” 

“Spit it out, Patton,” Logan piped up from his spot at the table, where it looked like he was trying to decipher a piece of paper that Roman had tossed aside. Clearly, he wasn’t doing much better than his companions, though.

“Can you tone it down a little?” Patton rushed through his request, expression already crumpling in regret.

Virgil couldn’t say that he hadn’t seen it coming but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting.

“Sure,” he responded, easily. “Yeah, totally. Let me do that.” He closed his eyes and pressed his index fingers to his temples. His face scrunched up in concentration. A moment of silence followed — even the scratching of Roman’s pen paused.

Virgil opened one eye. “Is it working?” The sarcasm in his voice was a dead giveaway.

Roman stood up, knocking his chair over as he did so. He threw the pen at Virgil but his aim was way off and it bounced harmlessly off the wall. “If you’re not going to help, then just get out!”

“Roman!” Patton scolded, rounding on the prince. “We do not talk to each other like that!”

“Pump the brakes, Princey,” Logan said in a tone that seemed entirely unimpressed with Roman’s tantrum.

Virgil folded his arms over his chest and glared at Roman with half-lidded disinterest. “Yeah, ‘cause that worked out so well for you guys last time.” 

Patton flinched. 

“Perhaps we ought to take a break and reconvene once you’ve all calmed down,” Logan suggested.

“Oh! Right, because you’re doing just fine, aren’t you!” Roman shot back. He gestured to Logan from top to bottom — or, top to chest given the rest of him was hidden by the table — and it was clear just what he meant. His hair was unruly from a hand being run through it one too many times, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, and the tie might as well have been removed completely given how loose it was.

“I am, thank you very much,” he said, scowling at Roman. “As we are currently in a neutral zone of the Mindscape, Virgil’s anxieties have no power over me. They don’t over any of us and if you would take a single second to breathe and quit blaming him for every single one of your problems, then you would realize that!”

In his rant, Logan had risen from his chair and his hands were clenched now at his sides. Patton looked unwell, his face gone pale and his shoulders beginning to shake. Roman, however, seemed even angrier; apparently not, though, with Logan.

Storming towards Virgil, he shoved Patton out of his way and leaned in so close to the former, that their noses were nearly touching. Patton gave a startled gasp, catching himself on the back of recliner. Virgil, if anything, looked more upset about Roman’s lack of care than he did the lack of distance between them.

“This is your first Christmas with us and we’ve never had trouble like this before!” Roman hissed, jabbing a finger into Virgil’s chest. “Who else am I supposed to blame?!”

Virgil pushed hard at Roman’s shoulder, granting himself some space. “Yourself, maybe?” Virgil offered, scoffing. “I suppose you want to impress me just as much as you do Thomas. I’m flattered, really.”

Patton whimpered very softly, wrapping his arms around himself.

“You always do this,” Virgil said accusingly. “You know how busy Thomas gets this time of year and yet you still insist he goes for every single Secret Santa, all the holiday parties you can get him to agree to, each Friendsmas, all those special productions for the season. All that stress isn’t going to be my fault!”

“Enough,” Logan tried to intervene.

“It’ll be yours!” Virgil continued, raising his voice. “Every year, I try to tell you to slow down but do you listen? Have you ever listened?! Not until those two—” He flung an arm out in Logan and Patton’s direction, “— are forced to step in and agree with me! Well, guess what, Roman!” Virgil spat, eyes blazing, “I’m not going to take it from you this time! Whether you like it or not, Thomas is working towards accepting me just as much as he does any of you and so we’re going to take it easy this year because he needs a damn break!” Virgil gestured this time to Roman, “God, look at yourself, you need a damn break!”

Upon closer inspection, it became clear just what Virgil was insinuating. Roman’s hair had lost its shine, there were bags under his eyes barely hidden by concealer, and while he wasn’t wearing his usual royal attire, even his loungewear looked wrinkled and unkempt.

Despite the tears welling in his eyes, Patton took a careful step forward and rested a hand on Roman’s forearm. “Ro… is there something you’re not telling us?”

Roman glanced only briefly at Patton, gave Virgil one last furious glare, and sunk out.

Patton’s hand hung in the open air a moment longer before his fingers curled slowly into a fist. He pressed it against his mouth and stifled a sob.

The fight seemed to drain out of Virgil immediately and he collapsed with a thud on the bottom step of the staircase. He swore under his breath.

“That… could have gone better,” Logan murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll be in my room,” Patton managed in a choked voice. Before Logan or Virgil could react, he too disappeared from the living area.

“I didn’t mean it,” Virgil said.

“Yes. You did,” Logan disagreed, though it wasn’t unkind. With another sigh, he joined Virgil. The latter scooted over to make room for him, hugging his knees to his chest. Logan stretched his own legs out and rested his palms atop his thighs. “Let’s take a few deep breaths.”

Logan moved one hand to Virgil’s ankle, where he tapped out a 4-7-8 rhythm for Virgil and himself to inhale and exhale along to. After a few rounds of this, they had both calmed down considerably. Logan fixed his tie while Virgil toyed with the zipper on one of his sleeves.

“I believe you owe Roman an apology.”

“Only if he has one for me, too,” Virgil responded without hesitation.

“He will,” Logan continued, “Patton will make certain of it.”

“… Terrence’s gift doesn’t have to be perfect,” Virgil said finally. “It’s Terrence! He and Thomas have been friends for years! Whatever we get him, he’ll love it. He’s one of the happiest people Thomas knows and he’s pretty easy to please and there’s really no going wrong with it so I don’t—”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupted gently, making an exaggerated point to take a deep breath in.

“… I don’t understand why Princey’s freaking out,” Virgil finished slowly.

“Roman may have been correct when he said it is your first Christmas with us. However, that does not mean that we’ve been without you for all of the others. Of course you’ve been as crucial a part of Thomas as any of us for quite some time and while he may only have recently begun to accept that, it does not mean that we are more important than you. I… think that might be, at least partially, what has Roman so upset.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “are you saying Roman’s mad because the fans like me better?”

“Yes.”

Logan’s blunt answer surprised Virgil, apparently. He reeled back. “They don’t, though! I’m… y’know!” He motioned wildly at himself. “Why would anyone like Anxiety better than Creativity?!”

Logan’s gaze drifted, going a bit distant. Neither spoke for a minute. Eventually, Logan turned to Virgil with a wry smile. “Why don’t you go talk to Roman? I’ll check on Patton.”

Virgil didn’t seem much like he wanted to go anywhere near Roman but he could feel the way Thomas was still recovering and Virgil knew it was because everyone had been so… heightened earlier. “Okay,” he mumbled at last, standing and heading up the stairs.

Roman’s room was across from Patton’s and while Virgil would have preferred going to Patton first and apologizing for the way he’d behaved, he knew which had to happen first.

He knocked on Roman’s door.

There was a crash, as if something had been dropped or knocked over. Virgil winced.

“… You good?”

Any shuffling on the other side ceased. There was a sniffle. Virgil internally cursed.

“What do you want?”

“Can I come in?”

Another pause before the handle turned and the door opened. Virgil noticed right away the redness of Roman's eyes and the hunch in his shoulders. He stepped aside to let Virgil in.

The room was in disarray. The sheets on the bed were tangled together, notebooks strewn across the floor, and there were a couple of trophies on the ground by the bookshelf they were normally kept on. Virgil assumed those were what had fell.

Roman threw himself back into the chair at his desk and went back to what Virgil guessed was his brainstorming for Terrence’s gift.

What a stupid reason for a fight, Virgil thought, morose.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Roman asked, voice rough.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil blurted.

Roman hesitated in his writing for a moment before he continued.

“What I said… it wasn’t fair. I would say I didn’t mean it but Logan already called me out on that.” Virgil fidgeted with his sleeves, pulling them over his hands. “I’ve been stressing about this since Thomas drew Terrence’s name but I guess I didn’t realize how you guys would react to it. It’s… I’ve kept it to myself in the past, so I thought it wouldn’t be an issue this time either.”

Roman slowed until he finally set the pen down. He sighed and Virgil watched as the stress seemed to melt off of his tense frame. He pivoted in his seat, facing Virgil, but not looking directly at him.

“I’m… sorry, too. I shouldn’t have automatically accused you. That was wrong. I made an assumption based off of what I used to… feel about you.”

Virgil grinned, a bit lopsided. “It hasn’t been very long since I started fitting in,” Roman snorted at the reference, “so I guess I can’t really blame you.”

Roman picked at his nail polish. Virgil shifted on his feet.

“Did you… talk to Patton?”

Roman shook his head.

“Logan said he would, so… What if… Maybe we could go and make cookies for him? We were both pretty rude to him.”

Roman frowned. “… I shoved him, didn’t I?”

Virgil nodded.

Roman stood and went back to the door, gesturing for Virgil to follow. They headed downstairs and to the kitchen. It was quiet on the lower floor so Virgil could only hope that Logan was consoling Patton — as best he could, anyway. He and Roman went to work on baking cookies. They weren’t from scratch; while either probably could have done it just fine, they figured the packaged mix would be done quicker and they wanted to help Patton feel better sooner rather than later. Sure enough, the tray had just come out of the oven when Patton and Logan returned.

There was flour in Roman’s hair and Virgil’s fingers were messy with melted chocolate. Patton giggled at the sight of them, but it didn’t sound quite right. Logan smiled at the pair of them from behind him.

“I’m sorry, sunshine,” Roman exclaimed, rushing to Patton and scooping him up into his arms. He twirled Patton around the kitchen and the laughter that followed sounded lighter and easier. “My behavior was positively atrocious and you deserve so much better than that! How ever shall I make it up to you?” He asked, letting Patton down and holding him gently by the shoulders, gazing at him earnestly.

“I’m sorry, too, Pat,” Virgil muttered, “I shouldn’t have been so rude. You just wanted me to dial it back before things escalated.”

Patton patted Roman softly on the cheek before looking to Virgil. “I shouldn’t have asked that of you. That wasn’t fair and I’m sorry.” Patton turned to Roman. “Ro, you may make it up to me by allowing me the first cookie.” His request was spoken seriously but there was a gleam in his eyes.

Roman nearly tripped over himself in his haste to do as Patton asked.

Eventually, they were sat around the dining room table. This time, Roman’s notebooks were organized and his pens were of the rainbow gel variety. They worked together to figure out a gift for Terrence that would be both fun and practical. By the end of their discussion, each was feeling much better about themselves and their bond with the others.

[eiressofinspirationwrites]

Scarlet

Summary: The Winchester brothers get some help from a powerful young witch (OC) when they’re attacked by a demon.

Word Count: 1621

“I’m going to be famous, boys,” the demon smirked, “I will go down in history as the demon who finally killed the Winchesters.”

“Do you have any idea how many of you stupid sons of bitches we’ve ganked over the years?” Dean scoffed.

“Dean and I have taken down dozens of demons at a time,” Sam informed the demon, “and you’re all alone out here.”

“I brought a friend,” the demon patted what appeared to be thin air, but when thin air growled Sam and Dean’s hair stood on end.

“Hellhound,” Sam glanced at his brother warily.

“That’s right,” the demon grinned, “Took me years to tame this beauty but it was well worth my time, and since I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you boys a 30-second head start but something tells me that you won’t get very far.”

Sam and Dean didn’t wait for the demon to change its mind before they turned and sprinted into the woods.

“What’s the plan, Dean?” Sam asked as he and Dean tore through the woods.

“Run like hell until we reach the Impala,” Dean yelled as he tried to keep up with Sam’s freakishly long legs.

After a few more seconds of running, Sam and Dean heard a voice call through the woods, “Ready or not, here she comes!”

The call was followed by the sound of rapidly approaching paws crashing through the trees.

“Faster, Dean!” Sam bellowed but it didn’t do any good. They didn’t make it very much farther before Sam heard Dean howl in pain as the hellhound bit into his leg and brought him to the ground.

“Dean!” Sam dug his heels into the ground and came to a screeching halt.

He knew he wasn’t going to be much help against a hellhound, but he had to try. Sam used his best guess and charged at the hellhound. He used his full weight to carry the hound off of Dean’s back and he went rolling with the hound. Once he landed, he rolled to his feet and assumed a fighting stance.

It took the hound a couple of seconds to shake off it’s disorientation but once it clambered to its feet it charged at Sam. Sam braced himself for impact, but it never came.

The hound stopped millimeters from Sam when it heard a woman yell, “Hey, Dung face! Over here!”

Sam risked a look in the direction he heard the voice and saw a woman in a leather jacket drop from a tree. The hound forgot about Sam for a moment, having decided that the newcomer was the bigger threat. It charged at the young woman. Sam watched in shock as she simply waited and let the hound get within a few feet of her before she raised a hand and the hound exploded in a burst of black blood.

“What have you done?!” Sam heard the demon screech from behind him.

The woman’s scarlet lips twitched into a smile, “I seem to have made a bit of a mess.”

The demon’s eye twitched as she flicked a few droplets of blood she’d wiped from her cheek off of her hand.

“I’m going to destroy you,” the demon shook with rage, “That wasn’t the only hound that I’ve trained.”

Sam shuddered as he heard the growls of at least a dozen hell hounds emanate from the forest around him. The sounds didn’t seem to disturb the mysterious woman at all. In fact, she seemed excited about being outnumbered.

“I’m so glad you brought friends,” she hummed as she raised her hands and twisted them. A dense fog covered the forest ground and when she twisted them once more the fog swirled and shot towards the hounds and clung to them; revealing each of their positions.

“Sic her, boys!” the demon snarled.

When the hounds charged, the young woman brought her hands together and when she pulled them apart a ball of energy was swirling between her palms.

“Get down,” she warned Sam.

He had barely hit the ground before she unleashed the bolt of energy. It split into a dozen directions and blasted through each hellhound. The bolts of energy completely disintegrated each hound and when the forest fell silent, Sam looked up.

“How-“ the demon sputtered as it struggled to find its words.

“You’ll never know,” the woman laughed before she snapped her fingers and the demon started to cough up black goo. Once the demon was dead on the ground, she turned to Sam, “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Sam shook his head before he remembered his brother, “Oh my god, Dean!”

Sam rushed to his brother’s side and shook his brother’s shoulder frantically.

“Is it over?” Dean groaned.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

“I think my leg’s broken,” Dean hissed as he sat up.

“Yeah, and your back is torn up pretty bad, too,” Sam said as he assessed his brother’s wounds.

“Is it?” Dean asked and twisted as he tried to get a look at his back, “I can’t feel anything.”

“Must be the adrenaline,” the woman said as she knelt beside the brothers.

“Who are you?” Dean asked as he and Sam got a good look at her. She was dressed in a blood red leather jacket that was layered over a black blouse and a pair of black skinny jeans.

“Can I help you first?” she asked gesturing towards Dean’s injuries, “You know before you bleed out?”

“I’m not letting you touch me before you tell me who the hell you are, Princess,” Dean scowled.

“Fine,” she huffed, “My name is Scarlet.”

“No, it’s not,” Sam called her out when he sensed that she was lying.

“You’re right, it’s not,” Scarlet shrugged, “but it’s the only name you’re getting out of me.”

“And how did you disintegrate a dozen hell hounds?” Sam asked.

“Really, do we need to hash this out right now?” Scarlet rolled her eyes, “I can heal you, Dean, and be out of your hair.”

“Answer Sam’s question,” Dean ordered.

“Fine,” Scarlet sighed, “I’m a witch.”

“You’re not like any witch we’ve ever encountered,” Sam said, “That energy thing, the fog, and the exploding hell hound? And you made a demon cough up its guts?”

“There aren’t any witches like me,” Scarlet said, “I’m one of a kind.”

“You know we’re in the business of killing witches, right?” Dean grimaced as he shifted his leg to take pressure off of it.

“Calm down there, killer,” Scarlet said with a slightly teasing tone, “I’m a good witch. I hunt monsters, just like you. Now, can I heal you?”

“Fine,” Dean said reluctantly.

Scarlet placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and a few second’s later Dean’s skin stitched itself back together and his bones snapped back together.

“Better?” Scarlet asked once she pulled away.

Dean rolled his shoulders and then pulled himself up off the ground and put his weight on the previously injured leg.

“I’ll be damned,” he whistled, “I’m as good as new.”

“How’d you do that?” Sam asked as he stood up

“I already told you,” Scarlet replied as she stood and brushed debris from her pants, “I’m not like other witches. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.”

“Hey, wait a second,” Sam called after she got a few feet away, “What were you doing out here? You can’t tell me that you were just out here for a walk and stumbled upon a hellhound attack.”

“I’ve been after Terrence there for weeks,” Scarlet pointed at the demon’s body, “I followed him and imagine my surprise when I discovered that he had lured the Winchester brothers out here.”

“So, you were here the whole time?” Dean asked tersely, “Why the hell didn’t you help?”

“I thought that the Winchesters would be able to save themselves,” Scarlet shot back, “When I realized that you two were in over your heads, that’s when I stepped in.”

“If you’ve been following him why didn’t you kill him weeks ago?” Sam asked.

“I wasn’t able to get close to him,” she explained, “He knew I was onto him, but you boys provided the perfect distraction. So, thank you.”

“Why this demon?” Dean asked.

“That’s none of your business,” Scarlet snapped.

“He killed someone close to you?” Sam guessed.

“I said that’s none-“

“Hey, we get it,” Sam held up his hands, “We ganked the demon that killed our mom years ago.”

“Well, now that it’s over,” Scarlet pulled at her jacket sleeves anxiously, “I should get going.”

“Why don’t we buy you a drink first?” Sam offered, “You kind of saved our lives.”

“I’ll have to take a raincheck,” Scarlet said as she glanced at the phone she’d just pulled from her pocket, “Duty calls.”

“We’ll see you around, then,” Sam said.

“We’ll see,” Scarlet said with a mischievous grin before she disappeared between the trees.

“Dude,” Dean turned to Sam once he was sure Scarlet was gone, “What the hell? I’ve never seen a witch with this kind of power.”

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam shook his head.

“Do you think we should hunt her?” Dean asked.

“No, I believe her,” Sam said as he stared into the trees where Scarlet had disappeared, “She’s obviously a hunter. Did you see the number on her phone that was calling?”

“No,” Dean said.

“It was one of Garth’s,” Sam said.

“Oh,” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Sam laughed, “That’s kind of what I thought but we should probably stay on her good side. I get the feeling she could turn us inside out without lifting so much as a finger.”

“Yeah, I got that feeling, too,” Dean said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “So, what now?”

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

Next

[laketaj24]

Queens of Odins Eye: ch 59

Authors Note: We are really dedicated lol the chapter amount is deep! Collab Fic with  @imgoldielikehawn @grungyblonde @courtrae89

The sunlight shines through the windows of Ubbe’s car and the sound his groans as he stretches beneath me almost sounds like home. “I don’t miss sleeping in the back of cars.” He whispers pulling my hair from my face.

I chuckle sliding into his Kutte and sitting back on the seat. I was grateful for Terrence’s girlfriend staying with the kids but I needed to get back to them. “I have to go.” I could only imagine the mess before him. “Uri is probably in there getting on that poor girl’s nerves.”

“I’m sorry.” His hand touches my face and I close my eyes. In all the years we had ever known one another he never hit me. NEVER. I gathered Ragnar was the breaking point for all the bullshit I piled on. “Kia.”

“I heard you.” I move his hand. “It didn’t hurt as much as you testing my son.”

“Our son.”

“My fucking son!” I yell. “How could you do that huh?”

“Kia.”

“No! He looks like you, acts like a fucking terror like you. You weren’t a good kid Ubbe. You were knocking over bikes and pinning Ivar against walls. This new good guy was formed when you had Uri. I never have given you a reason to test him. And if you wanted me back you could have tried, crying to your daddy like a little bitch.”

“I did try.”

“You didn’t try.” I laugh. “Trying is getting rid of your hoes, rid of the attitude and doing what Ivar did. For years he threw his effort into loving me, even when I wouldn’t give it back.”

“And so with one doubt you just go back to fucking me? Ivar was a rebound, a break even, you cannot stop loving me Kia Lothbrok. You don’t want to.”

His hand grips my thigh pulling me towards him. He kisses me. I pull back licking his lip and then kissing him again. “If you ever test my child again, I will hang you upside down in the cellar of the clubhouse and let your blood drip into onto the floors and I will paint Kattegat with it. Don’t ever test me.”

“It’s fun testing you.” He grins sliding his fingers back into me.

The halt of the motorcycle behind his car could only mean my brother was my back. I rest my hand on my forehead. “Fuck.”

“He’s going to fucking kill me.” Ubbe tries not to laugh. There was as much hate in their relationship as there was hate. And I never could stop their fights. “White boy, wrong colors, wrong neighborhood.”

“Stay in the car.” I laugh. “White boy.”

The door swings open and Terrence drags me out to the grass. “This isn’t your husband.” He says through his teeth clenched teeth. “Get out the car Lothbrok. Let’s talk.”

“I like the car actually.” Ubbe chides. “Gonna sit here a while.”

“Terrence.”

“Kia, clothes!”

“I got panties on damn.”

To no surprise Uri hauls out from the house tackling his Uncle Terrence. His fist hit his chest and he adds in a few kicks. “Stop it Uncle T!”

“Boy.” He shakes his head.

Ubbe tosses my pants out and stands from the car. “Hey, come here.” Uri doesn’t hesitate hopping up into his father’s arms. “Stop hitting your uncle.”

“You hit my sister again and I will fuck you up,” Terrence pauses. “You and your dysfunctional ass family can  get the fuck out of here now.”

 Kim POV

Ragnar didn’t take no as an answer. I pour him some coffee sitting across from him at the small wooden table Ubbe had put together for me a few weeks back. “It’s good to see you back.” I lie.

“You too, I see you have joined the rest of them in the games they play with my sons.”

“I’m sorry what?” I uncross my legs regretting not calling the cops when he came into the house uninvited. “Are you waiting for Ubbe? Sometimes he stays at his own home.”

“He stayed at Kia’s brother’s place last night.”

“What?”

“It’s why I am here, he apparently gas fallen back into old habits. Bad habits. Nothing new. You cannot teach and old dog new tricks, even if the toy is new and shiny.” He touches my hair and I move back from him.

“I would like you to leave now.”

“This is just a friendly conversation about your friends in my MC they’ve disgraced.” Ragnar drinks some more of the coffee. “But you know what I have talked about this enough, really truly I have. I will spare you some of the poison and leave.”

“Thanks.” I stand opening the front door for him waiting with folded arms as he makes his way out of my apartment. I stand alone for a second glancing at the one picture of Ubbe and I in the middle of the table. Old dog. It takes a few seconds for me to click his name but I get there and it rings. I’ve called him one hundred times these last few days and talked to him twice. All ending with Kia being the cause of my dismay, every single time this needy woman clung to him like fly to shit.

“Kim.” Ubbe says clearing his throat.

Its quiet in the background and then I can hear Isla, the small cry and Kia soothing her. He couldn’t stay away even if he tried. “I’ve been calling you Ubbe. I was worried. I can’t get ahold of Court or Brii and Ivar said that Kia moved her things out of the house last night? What is going on? I miss one meeting and everything is up in the air.”

“Uhm, we should talk, can you meet me at the clubhouse. I have take care of some things there with Ivar and dad.” He sighs. “Please?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I can be there. What time?”

“An hour or so.”

“Okay, see you then Ubbe. I love you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

I get ready quickly not expecting the next knock on the door. I half expect Ubbe, but it isn’t him, it’s Hvitserk. His hair pulled back into his bun and a small smile on his innocent looking face. “Hvitserk.”

“Hey.” He says with his hands tucked into his pockets. “Uhm, can I come in?”

“Yeah why not?” I shrug. I close the door behind him. Taking a seat on the sofa with my hands in lap. “I see you didn’t get the tattoos covered?” Instinctively my hands reach out touching his hand, the eye of Odin tat was always one of my favorites.

“Yeah, I stayed.”

“I’m glad to hear it. You love that thing.” Thing? I roll my eyes. Whatever. “Why are you here?”

“I was passing by, my friend lives in the apartment over and I wanted to check and see,” He pauses. “How things were going in the new place? You hadn’t invited me over,” he pauses again. “Hadn’t really talked much since you dumped me.” He stops. “Kim, I just wanted to.”

“You know don’t you?”

Hvitserk shifts uncomfortably. His eyes meet mine for a moment and he grips my hand tugging me over to him and his lips meet mine. Everything is slow at first. His lips touch mine and the warmth surge mine as he moans into my mouth, relishing the moment. I breath him in, remembering the way he smelled, the way he smiles just before he brushes his nose along my cheek and kisses me again. Hvitserk tugs at my shirt and to pull me closer and his face is hit with wetness. The salty tears fall from my eyes nonstop and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? That’s why he wants to talk to me.” I pause making sense of everything in my head. “Oh, for fucks sake.” My voice breaks. “I know you’ve done some horrible things,” I wipe my face. “but you’ve never hurt me. Never.”

“And I never will.” Hvitserk breathes. “Everything is about to get crazy right now Kim. There was a meeting last night at the clubhouse and everything came out, I mean fucking everything. My dad just kept dropping bomb after bomb and Kia slapped Ubbe. Ubbe slapped Kia. I thought Ivar was going to slap Kia. Brii isn’t talking to anyone. I just, I don’t know that place is a fucking mess.”

“When did they?” My voice trails. I had a clue. Puzzle pieces.

“You will have to ask them, I didn’t come here to talk about that… I came to make sure you were okay. I know you don’t have too many people here to lean on. I just wanted you to be okay. Are you okay?”

“No,” I breathe. “he cheated on me, with someone he swore he was done with, he swore.”

“Kia is a part of him that he will never be able to rid himself of, and vice versa. They are toxic to whomever tries to replace the other. Look at Ivar. Ivar is withering away as we speak, via Kia. It’s not fair. And they don’t care. You shouldn’t let them cause you dismay. Ubbe never was man enough for you anyhow.”

“I see that now. I wish we could just leave, just like we planned.”

The moments fade into minutes and Hvitserk finally breaks the silence. “I saved about five grand up when I asked you to marry me.”

“What kind of ring were you gonna get me baby?” I chuckle.

“Fuck the ring,” He laughs. “That five grand can be our freedom, just say yes.”

I breathe for a second staring at the picture in the middle of the table of Ubbe and I. I kick it to the ground shattering the glass. “Hell yes, let’s leave, now.”

 Kia POV

I hated Lagertha’s farm but apparently it was the only place we could be with SAMCRO without shit getting started. Uri waves at Jax in the backseat of the car. Jax waves back giving him a smile.  Jax, Chibs, Court and Hap were all there and here Ubbe and I were looking like the fucking Brady Bunch.

“Leave the kids in the car.”

“I can’t leave Isla in the fucking car.” I hiss at him. Uri, stay in the car, don’t touch anything and be quiet.”

The roar of the motorcycle from the dirt road comes as a shock. I stand close to Ubbe not leaving Uri just yet and notice Brii. Oh, I had some words for her. Ubbe looks as my jaw clenches and shakes his head. “It’s not the fucking place. We need to look united.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, I’m not Kim. I will fuck you up.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes ma’am.” He laughs.

“Thank you, now move.” Isla rests on my hip and Hap of course steps up touching her hand. “Happy, it’s good to see you… and you Court.” I smile. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, it seems like that’s all we say lately.” Court reaches for Isla but I don’t budge. I trust her but negotiations are just that. “What the plan for this?” I look over to Ubbe who is talk to Uri. “Are we killing him or?”

“Look we have something in motion,” Jax huffs watching Brii step down from her motorcycle. She removes her helmet unmasking her blonde curls and his mouth drops for a second. I had no cue where it went wrong but it wasn’t my business. “Hey Brii.”

“Jax.” She says without a smile. “Look I don’t have long to stay. Ivar wants everyone at the clubhouse. I figured you would be here. He’s been trying to call you.”

“Oh, how’d you know? Fuck him last night?”

I can feel her in my head digging in my thoughts. “You’re such a bitch Kia. Yeah I did. Just like you fucked Ubbe, but we’re not here to talk about you being a bitch. What is the plan for Ragnar? The sooner he is dead, the sooner we can get back to some normalcy?”

“Floki is back.” Court says interrupting. “So, I’m guessing they want their seats at that table. They want their places back and I believe the best thing you two can do is act like everything is right until we can figure out who the fuck done the hit.”

“What do you mean act like everything is right?”

“Treat Ragnar with respect, like you used to.”

Brii turns to me. “Shouldn’t be hard for Kia here to open up for a Lothbrok. WE can do it. How long until we have intel?”

“A few days, I’m tracking where the hit came from.” Happy adds.

“Everything good with you OE?”

“Nothing is ever good with OE.”

“You know you could have saved me some fucking time!” I yell as she walked away. “You wanted him, you could have had him.”

“I did! Before you came back Kia! We didn’t want you back! We stopped answering your calls, your letters. You had contact with the one person that deserves your miserable ass.” She says motioning to Ubbe. “Everything was fine before you came back! And then you came back and fucked everyone up! You didn’t even give me a chance with him!”

“He’s my husband!” I hasten through the grass after her. You were supposed to be a sister to me!”

“Bitch that bond died with dad and you know it.” Her words were as cold as her eyes.

“So that’s it. Fuck my husband. Be all sad and done with the world.”

“Fuck you and Fuck off.” Her motorcycle starts and I keep walking towards her.

“Athelstan said you were to look out for me! You never do! You never did!”

“Kia!” Court walks behind me. “Don’t do this here babe.” Her hand pulls me from walking towards Brii. “I know all this is hard but come on love. We have got to get back to the plan.”

  Ubbe and I arrive at the clubhouse and to our surprise Kim is there nestled in Hvitserk’s lap. Ubbe looks alarmed but his plan was to dump her for me? I think. But I hadn’t planned on leaving Ivar, this was a fucking mess. I navigate around her, figuring she knows. I’ve had enough drama for one day.

“Don’t run Kia!” Kim says standing up. “I’ve waited here just to talk to you.”

“I have nothing to say except, I’m sorry.” I swallow. That felt horrible going down. “Uri, take your sister to the room and let her play in her play pen, please.”

“You are sorry. Oh my god, that is a great way to start. For once Kia is honest about something.” Kim comes closer to me. But for some reason this chick is freaking me out and I keep the pool table between us. “Let’s talk about the last few days.”

“Kim.” I smile. “I said I was sorry. I came here for Ivar actually is he here?”

“No, he’s sulking in his empty fucking house about you fucking his brother.” Her voice is so calm. It’s odd almost. “You hit me when you were pregnant.” She takes out her golden hoops and whips her hair in a ponytail.

How many fucking beatings would I have to take? “Are we fighting? I don’t want to beat your ass. I’m tired. I slept in a car! My kids and I just want to-.”

“Stop using those innocent confused kids as scapegoats for your bullshit! You slept with hi and I am one of your best friends and I am tired of it! Sick and fucking tired!” She charges me from across the room sending me flailing into the couch. And I can hear is Hvitserk laughing and Ubbe’s shocked yell.

HELP ME!!! But I don’t say it struggling to grab ahold of her I grip her hair and we tangle around the room until finally she’s lifted from me.

“Kim, that’s enough!” Ubbe says and then there is a crunch as he lands next to me with a bloody nose.

“Hvitserk! Why you hit him in his face?” I whine. “Fuck.”

Kim’s small fist starts back at me and I aly defeated hoping that the door opening would be a real savior but it’ Rollo strolling in and then back out of the clubhouse. “No one wants to save you, you’re a bitch to everyone.” She laughs. Hvitserk has walked away while Ubbe is groaning clutchin his face.

And fuck this. I stand pushing her away from me onto the pool table. “We can fight then Kim! I was trying to leave!”

Ivar opens the door and his eyes are in a slight shock as he strolls to the back of the clubhouse. “Where are my kids?”

“Ivar what are you doing? I wanted to talk first?” I say abandoning the fight. “Wait!” I run into the room and he already has Isla. I wipe the blood from my face. “We need to talk.”

“What is there to talk about wife?”

“Are you leaving me?”

“Why would I do that? Hmm? We all make mistakes right? You were mistaken when you thought you were leaving me that easy. See mistakes and I forgive you. I’m not gonna beg you. Get your shit out of his fucking car and let’s go home.”

“Ivar I know you slept with her.” I say. “What are we doing? Why not just be happy with the person that makes us happy?”

“You make me happy Kia!”

“But do I!” I say confused. “We argue more than we love.”

“You’re NOT leaving me KIA!” Ivar taps on Isla’s back with wide crazy eyes. “I don’t lose and I won’t lose you.”

“Ivar, please just…”

“Uri, buddy go get your things okay.” He smiles and watches him leave and then turns to me. “If you try to fucking leave with my child ever again, I will tie you up in the cellar and what Ragnar done to you will be a fucking cake walk. Do what the FUCK I said!”

 **

Tagging @whenimaunicorn @sparklemichele @imgoldielikehawn @courtrae89 @ivarsshieldmadien @readsalot73 @titty-teetee @naaladareia @therealcalicali @wheredidallthedreamersgo @mblaqgi @soaimagines @loveviera

[wherekatewritesthings]

Hatching - Newt Scamander Oneshot

A/N: hah, I bet you thought you`d seen the last of me. guess what, I`m still alive! And I`m SO SORRY I HAVE BEEN PRACTICALLY GHOSTING MY OWN BLOG oh god it has been ages since I have written something but inspiration finally! struck! lucky for me it did in Hungary where I spend a short holiday with lots of time and no WiFi. I know Easter was like, a month ago, okay but I wrote this as a script/ idea over that time and simply didn`t get around to writing it into a story until now, Monday, 16 minutes past midnight my time. lol. well done, Kate. AnYwAYs I hope you enjoy this little thing I put into words, there`s lots more I want to do but I`ll give myself time and hope it works out. fingers crossed you guys :)

ah and this is dedicated to @gabriels-wings , my cosplay partner in crime, friend and fellow wizarding world enthusiast. I hope this makes you smile :) (we`ll need it after Infinty War I`m certain)

let`s get to it now, shall we - love you guys!! xx

***

word count: 2.664

characters: Newt Scamander/ Jacob Kowalski/ Queenie Goldstein and you ^^

rating: K as in fluff, creature chaos and some cute dialogue with a five year old

***

Newt was awoken in the middle of the night by a strange sound close to his ear. It sounded like someone excessively yawning mixed with a high-pitched whine. Then someone tugged on his hair. He blinked into the darkness of his room, the only light coming from the streetlight right outside his small flat`s window filtering in through the thin curtains. It was barely enough to let him see the rug on the floor next to his bed, but he immediately recognized the shape standing in front of him. His white fur was almost glowing on its own and the big, round eyes reflected Newts pale face back to him. "Hello Frank", he coaxed out, voice heavy with sleep, "what`s up?". The Demiguise just motioned for him to follow, so Newt got out of the bed, slid into his slippers, threw on a sweater and grabbed his wand before following Frank through to the study. It was a small room, the walls covered in pale yellow wallpaper and it held nothing but a small desk with a chair and lamp in a corner and a circular rug – on which Newt`s case was standing, lid wide open. He had been leaving it behind like this after the last feeding of a day for a couple days now, because it was early into the mating season and some animals could potentially cause a little stir, so he wanted to be able to notice and get to them as quickly as possible. Apparently Frank must`ve come to the conclusion something was happening, because Newt could just spot the last strands of his fur disappearing over the edge of the worn leather before lowering himself into its confines. Frank waited at the door to the "dorms" as Newt liked to call them sometimes, the small compartments that fit every creature`s needs. Frank usually kept an eye on the Occamy families especially and Newt`s gut feeling was right when he found Frank in front of one of the younger nests, slightly shivering. Newt rubbed his eyes before cautiously peering through the oval opening of the woven orb. And there they were – seven shimmering Occamy eggs, looking like they had just been laid. And he could clearly see what the issue was… The one Occamy that was protectively curled around them, most likely the mother, was hissing at the other two in the nest which seemed to be all too curious about the new things in their home. Newt thought for a second, then looked at Frank: "I need you to keep an eye on them for a minute, I`ll be right back". He then went back into the storeroom, rummaged a few cabinets and came back with the grey-ish material he had used to make the nesting spaces before. A few flicks of his wand created a new habitat for the creature which easily glided into their circle and was then quickly filled with moss to be comfy for the new arrival. Frank helped Newt transfer the young Occamy mother to her new living space, he took care of the eggs while Newt gently stroked the creature`s colourful scales, making soothing sounds in order to calm her down. Eventually, all of them settled and Newt was convinced he could leave them alone. On his way back, he threw a fistful of snacks over to the Mooncalves which always got excited upon seeing them and then went to climb up the ladder back into his flat again. He turned around before exiting completely, looking down at Frank once more. "You did a good job, buddy. Please keep an eye on them for me, yes? I`ll be back to bed, the upcoming week is going to be hectic." Frank just stared back at him, but Newt knew that he knew what to do, so he climbed up the remaining steps. With one or the other heavy yawn, he was able to slide back under the covers and fell into a dreamless, deep slumber shortly after…

A few days later –

It was the Saturday before Easter and Queenie and Jacob were over at Newt`s for tea. Jacob, who`s bakery business was running smoothly, quite frankly pretty successfully actually, was planning to expand, wanting to open up a store in London because `it`s your home country, man, so it feels kind of like the right thing and, what British person doesn`t like a good pastry with their tea?´, as he always told Newt. They had been talking about this and that, Jacob`s new recipe idea for a Fwooper desert treat, Queenie`s magical boutique for `things a modern witch doesn`t know she needs´, Tina´s top secret mission for the ministry – her and Newt had been writing letters back and forth, but he hadn`t heard from her in a while – which involved lots of travelling, the weather and Newt`s work on the book. Jacob was in the middle of a rather interesting story at the moment, telling them how for the past days there had been flocks of young children in front of his shop windows, staring at the baked goods on display with rather hungry eyes, they looked so small and starved that he felt guilty for ignoring them… until his helping hand behind the counter, Terrence, suggested giving them some of the bread they hadn´t been able to sell and that would most likely go stale the next day anyways. "You can`t imagine the joy on their faces! The lit up when I gave them the loafs and they couldn`t stop thanking me for a solid five minutes! They ran off to their families and you know, buddy, I haven`t felt that good in a while, I felt like I had truly done something good, you know, especially with Easter around the corner." The whole thing got Newt thinking. There had been a lot of shortenings in the factories in his neighbour district and many of the families depended on that income, most likely struggling to provide food now. He felt awful thinking of the people having to starve especially on a holiday and an idea formed in his head. "I had a lot of Occamy eggs lately, there must have been about thirty new hatchlings. There were so many I had to give them away and send them to a reservoir a friend of mine opened up in the Scottish forests. I didn`t have the time to get rid of the shells yet, so I just kept them in a box in my storeroom. What do you think, there are lots of families with low income in my district and the surrounding ones, maybe we can do something good with them." – "Oh yes, let`s paint them like Easter eggs and hide them as presents for the kids to find!", Queenie chirped in, grinning excitedly. Newt smiled at her, "that`s a fantastic idea. I am sure I kept some of the paint tubes I used to do the illustrations for the book, those should do the job."

They got to work almost immediately and it all went well for the most part, until Queenie decided to join Newt in checking the nests for any leftover shells. Niffler was rummaging around nearby, the Bowtruckles were playing a game of `catch the stick´ and Frank sat by the young phoenix Newt had recently adopted. She cleared her throat and Newt looked up at her, wand between his teeth and an egg in hand he had just been examining. "We almost forgot to tell you, but…", she kept fidgeting with her hands and Newt saw the ring as soon as she said the words, "Jacob and I are going to get married." He had to take the wand out of his mouth, but his joy was genuine when he looked at her: "That`s great news! Congratulations you two." Queenie beamed at him, then looked at her ring. "I almost can`t believe it, you know? And we couldn`t tell my parents, they`re very strict when it comes to the laws about magic… but I`m happy, you know? And I think that`s what matters the most. Of course, I knew when he asked me, he just couldn`t keep it out of his head for long, and I really tried not to, but he was so nervous that evening and I just couldn`t help it! But, anyways, that`s the news on that." She twirled around to go back to Jacob, who was still painting egg shells and in that moment, several things happened at once. A beam of light caught Queenie`s ring and made it glimmer, Frank squeaked in warning and then the Niffler jumped at the witches` hand, trying to catch the jewellery he had just spotted. Queenie gasped in surprise, the Niffler somehow managed to slide the engagement ring down her finger and off he went – in the direction of the exit, because Newt had blocked his hoard in a moment of anticipation. Then him and Queenie immediately took off after the creature. "Don`t let him get out, Jacob!", Newt called out to his friend, who was wearing a paint-splattered apron and a brush behind every ear. He turned around quickly, trying to snatch the furry culprit, and almost managed to do so until the little rascal wiggled so much Jacob had to drop him – but Newt was there, in a haste but determined he quickly placed the egg he had still been holding on the desk, pointing his wand at the Niffler which was just about to climb up the ladder – a stunning spell later it got frozen in place and Newt could catch the quick thief, handing Queenie back what belonged to her. "Alright", he said to the creature that, once secured in his grip, was allowed to move again, "we need to talk about your manners, little one", walking back into the dorms to return him to his nest. When he came back out, Jacob and Queenie had finished all the eggs, which were now neatly sitting on a bed of wood shavings in a big cardboard box. "They look fantastic", he prompted, "let`s go and hide them." All three of them climbed out of the suitcase, Newt getting the box out with a levitation spell and put on their coats and hats before exiting the brick building Newt was living in. The twilight was just settling over the city and the sky was shaded in all kinds of colours. With a flicker, the street lamps came on just as they turned a corner, feeling giddy and excited, remembering their childhoods and how they had celebrated Easter when they were young. Jacob in the middle with the box in hand, smiling at Queenie who was skipping rather than walking and Newt with his wand raised protectively but a smile on his face.

They had just hidden the last eggs, it was beginning to dawn, when Newt discovered something odd. One of the two leftover eggs he had in his coat pocket seemed to be completely intact. He thought back to the events of the afternoon, internally scolding himself the next second. He had placed the egg he had been examining when Niffler started wreaking havoc on Jacob`s desk before completely forgetting about it due to chasing the black-coated troublemaker! Jacob must`ve painted it absentmindedly, not realizing it was an egg that hadn`t been hatched yet. He took it into his other hand while taking out another one of the reworked shells that was empty except for the small chocolate bar and paper bunny garland Queenie had made and was about to put it onto the grass next to the house`s door he was kneeling in front of, when – "what are you doing Mister?" He looked up and there was a young girl, maybe five or six, leaning out of the kitchen window he didn`t realize had been open the whole time due to the glass simply missing. He was caught off guard, but knew he had to get her attention away from the shells. "Hello there. What`s your name?" – "I`m Cecily. What are you doing in our front yard?" – "Uhm, I was about to…" In that second, he felt the egg twitching in his hand. Out of all possible moments, the Occamy seemed to have picked this one to hatch. Oh well. "I was actually just about to leave, but it has been nice to meet you, Cecily." Newt smiled at the girl and she smiled back, displaying a huge gap where one of her front teeth was missing. Somehow she hadn`t been convinced by him though, and scrunched up her nose in confusion next. "Nice to meet you too, Mister, but what ARE you doing in our front yard? My sister tells me to be careful, there have been strangers going around trying to talk families into sending their children away to work. Are you trying to set up a trap for me to steal me away? Because if so, it`s not going to work. I spotted you first, you`re really not that good at the whole trap thing, Mister, you know…" The little girl trailed on, but Newt was more focused on the cracking sounds that came from the egg still in his hand, he was desperate to get away now so as not to breach the law by letting the child see a magical creature. Then, another troubling thing came to his mind -  new-born Occamies often didn`t have control over their choranaptyxic nature and had to be kept under control by their mothers or else they would grow into about five metres large snakes on some occasions. His mind was racing, but he didn`t see a different choice. "Cecily", he addressed the child that was still curiously leaning on the windowsill, "would you be so kind to look for a box for me, or a teapot, basically something small that has a lid?" The young girl looked even more confused, but shrugged her shoulders and disappeared back into the house. She came back a minute later with a small metal box that had engravings on the lid and could be held closed by a metal clasp. It looked handmade and Newt felt guilty to accept it from her, but he really didn’t have a choice. He had been holding the egg together tightly in his fist, the creature making squeaky sounds of protest for being held in such tight confines. "Please open it for me", and as soon as the lid gaped open, Newt let the Occamy baby slide into the box before taking the thing from Cecily and clasping it shut. It disappeared into one of his many coat pockets and when he looked up again, the hazel eyes of the girl looked at him in awe and shock: "Mister, what was that?!" Newt didn`t answer – for this exact moment, you came into the kitchen, sleepy and confused. When you spotted the tall, ginger guy in the wool coat, your eyes too widened, making you look perplexed, but before you could say anything, Newt just winked at Cecily and then handed her the freshly emptied shells, before turning around and simply disappearing into thin air – which your younger sister missed, because she was looking at the pure silver in her hands. You on the other hand rubbed your temples, not sure if you had just hallucinated after a bad night´s sleep or if the whole thing had been real…

You weren`t able to find out, but the `blessing of Easter´, as some of your neighbours called it when they discovered the gifts next to their front doors, made you believe that maybe, it had really happened. That and the fact that your lunchbox was missing. Meanwhile, Newt smiled to himself while looking at the metal container. He was exhausted, but happy. This year, Easter had truly been something else. He was looking forward to some sleep now, almost certain you would roam his thoughts for a little while longer.

[noeyes-noproblem]

November 19th 1945

Content warning for the following: Death, Cult activity, Drugging, Murder, Demon, Summoning, Torture, Homophobia.

This is my longer write up of the night Jack died, and became the Jack he is now. 

The leaves crushed under the feet of the young man as he walked down the path he’d walked hundreds, maybe even a thousand times when he was younger. The friends he grew up with who had moved out of state a few short years ago. His first crush being one of them. The way the boy smiled and laughed always made Jack have butterflies in his stomach. Those days seemed so much better now. 

Jack wanted to unwind for a few hours. He’d had a test that day, and wanted to take a moment to look back on his childhood. For these few short moment it felt like he the past was so close he could reach out and touch it. 

He wondered if word had gotten out to them about the stories. The fact that he kissed another man in his class. Of course, a lot of the town knew already. If they were still here they would definitely know. He wondered if they would care, or if they would whisper about it behind his back like others did. 

Of course, there were a few who didn’t treat him any differently. It was nice to know. 

He looked up at the trees into the darkening autumn sky, only visible through the gaps in the trees where leaves have fallen. The moon was full, and it let small spots of light to shine down through the trees. Though that alone was not enough for Jack to see everything. 

In the shadows he could see the outline of the treehouse that brought him years of memories. Sitting with his friends, joking, playing, doing homework. It felt nice remembering those days. He looked at the treehouse as he got closer. It was weird to him how he thought it was so high up back then.

“I wonder” he said out loud to himself. Jack reached up his arms and grabbed onto the old worn wood that was once the floor of the small, rickety building. And- CRACK- The wood broke and Jack dropped back down. 

He was able to shake it off much easier than he was as a child. He still remembered the sound his arm made when he broke it all those years ago.

SNAP.

That- wasn’t him. It came from behind him. Jack spun around, expecting to see a wild animal as he flashed his light into the foliage. But all he saw was- someone in a cloak.

“Hey” he shouted “I see you there! I have a knife.” He did have one, he knew that it could be dangerous to be in the woods alone at night. As he shouted he reached for it.

Before he could react footsteps rushed up behind him, a strong hand ripped the knife from Jacks finger tips and tossed it to the ground “not anymore you don’t” a voice hissed into his ear. Then a cloth was forced over his mouth and nose. 

Jack thrashed to break free but wasn’t able to, the person holding him was far to strong, and held him with so much force Jack was sure something would break. The last thing he saw before he blacked out a was more people stepping out from behind him. Some holding lanterns as they walked past him. 

A sharp pain woke Jack up. He tried to move but was tied to a plank on the ground by his wrists and ankles. As his eyes came into focus, he saw one of the cloaked people looming over him their hands harshly grabbing his head as they strapped it down as well “ssh” they whispered, running their cold fingers down his cheek “this will be easier if you don’t move or say anything. The elders might even give you a chance to repent if you’re good.” They patted his cheek they gave the strap a harsh tug causing Jack to yelp in pain.

“I- I don’t know what’s going on” he whimpered “someone please explain. I- who are you? What do you want?” 

A cloaked person walked over to him and looked down. Jack guessed he was one of the elders, from the fact this one had a gold rope around their robes. “You have given into the most depraved of temptations” the person hissed “only the darkest of souls would allow themselves to be with someone of the same sex.”

Jacks eyes widened “this- this is a joke RIGHT? Some sort or conversation- fear- thing?” 

The Elder shook their head “I’m afraid now, my boy” they said “it’s too late for you. So we have decided to take it upon ourselves to use your rotten soul to please Kissius. The one who feeds on darkness.” They knelt down beside Jack. He could feel their eyes staring straight through him, despite then being hidden. 

“Are you cockeyed” Jack shouted “this isn’t going to work! You’re just going to kill me.”

The Elder laughed “so there’s nothing lost” they said “trust me, you ain’t gonna wanna be alive once we are done here. Death will be a mercy.” 

Just as as that left the mans mouth, Jack watched as someone walked up to him with a grapefruit spoon in their hand, someone following behind with a black candle, dripping wax. 

They held the spoon over the small flickering flame as the elder began chanting. 

“See no evil. Burn away the sins. Speak no evil. Punish the filth. Bring upon a new world. Turn light into dark. See no evil, but bare its mark.”

The spoon plunged into one eye, and Jack let out a scream of agony, and tried to break away but was unable too. As soon as it was out, he could feel the wax start to drip in. Before they could do the second eye, Jack passed out from pain. 

When he woke, something had been placed over his mouth  and everything hurt. He couldn’t see anything but he could hear everything around him. It was clear the people were standing around him, chanting something in unison. One by one, they all took turns sticking something into his flesh. A gift to their god Kissius. There were about.. 20.. no 30 of them. 

“Now, the heart” a voice echoed, shouting the the sky. He knew it was the leader “stop the heart, and put end end to the evil for another 50 years.” He heard the person walk up to him, and pludng a knife deep into his chest.

He was still for a few seconds. Then- one by one the straps holding him down exploded off. He felt his skin grow over all the wounds, like thick leather. His nails turned into long dark claws as he slowly got to his feet. 

Jacks mouth parted, showing rows of long sharp teeth as he let out a horrific screech and attacked.  

The next morning, he sat on the ground in the woods, covered head to toe in blood and with bodies surrounding him. 

He reached his hands up to his face and felt around it. Where his mouth had been seemed to have sealed over. He looked around and slowly stood up. He coudn’t see anything. At all. And yet, he knew were everything was. What happened to him? Why him? 

A voice called out from the distance, calling for him. It was his mother. 

“Mom” Jack called out, though the voice didn’t come from his mouth “mom I need help!”

He could sense her running towards him. But what she saw wasn’t the son that she knew. 

Before her stood a beast, clothing torn and bloody that looked like what Jack has been wearing the night before. But it’s skin was blue, and clung to his bones. Black goo leaked from it’s eyes and it came towards her. It’s tail drooped on the ground. 

She let out a horrified scream and picked up a rock throwing it at the beast “get away” she cried “no- you monster! You monster! You killed him!”

Jack froze him place, and let himself get hit in the head hard. Then- he turned around and fled deeper into the woods without saying anything else. 

Jack Terrence Edwards was never seen again. 

It didn’t take long for his story to spread. A young man, killed by a cult. Only one survivor our of them all, the survivor left the cult after that and refused to tell the story for 20 years. Once he did, he never spoke a word. 

Stories of Eyeless Jack, as the youth started calling him, would come up now and then. And as the internet became a thing, and grew so did stories of him. Most of them false. But he didn’t care.  He preferred some of them to the real thing anyways. 

[cynergy-laughter]

The Great Margarescue Part 2

The Rose

By: Brendon Cetinkaya(@cynergy-laughter)  Word Count: 2135

(Reader’s Discretion is Advised: This contains scenes of horror, misgendering, and different various triggers. If you are easily triggered by misgendering, graphic horrific scenes, and scary situations, or are extra empathetic, this is not for you to read.)

You were running for what seemed to be hours, twists and turns kept on making you anxious because you felt like someone or something was gonna jump out and kill you. You pant as you near a crossroads passage and you look both ways and up ahead. You pant some more, thinking you heart was gonna jump out your chest and keep on running, thankfully you were a bit used to it because of Craig. But suddenly you stop breathing, why? Because you heard… a giggle. A tiny, sinister giggle, coming from both sides. You look to your left and saw Chrisitan, but he was smiling unrealistically wide and his eyes were pitch black.

“Come play with us…” He said chuckling menacingly.

“I’m sure we can have a lot of fun.” A higher pitched voice tittered to your right. You slowly and reluctantly look to your right and see Christie with the same smile and dark eyes.

“The harvest is coming…” They said in unison. You now felt dumb that you had made them play along with the lines you made them repeat, because in this situation, your nightmare was just beginning. They step closer to you, creating a pincer attack, leaving you with only two options, die, or run forward. They tilt their heads to the side, hearing their neck bones cracking and echoing in your soul as they stepped closer, you suddenly break into a run on the path in front of you, hearing them running behind you, their two pairs of feet echoing loudly over your heavyset Dad footsteps. Your head ringed with the hair-raising cackle that those two demons emitted.

“I’m sure we can tenderize his tired body before we feast~.” Christian voice echoed as you kept running.

“We can season him well… with SPIDERS!!” Christie shrieked the last two words that made her sound like a laughing witch, you were more terrified than the time you watched Poltergiest.

“We’re heeeEEEEEREEEEE…” They say in unison, great those two can read minds too?!

You kept on running and before long after a few turns, you saw a door with a rose insignia on it. You run to it, trying to twist the door open, looking back to see the two little children from down the lane running at you like they were from the Grudge. You finally open the door and went inside, shutting the door. From outside, the rose insignia shone red, and the two hellions hissed and bared their teeth, not going close to the door and eventually retreating…

Your eyes shot open and you jerk upward, feeling grass all around you. You got up and dusted yourself off, and took a look at your surroundings which was hard when the sun was in your face… wait, the sun? You shade your eyes and see that you’re in a garden, a garden of roses. Red, Yellow, Blue, Deep Violet, Black, White every color and hue of the rainbow, it was a sight to behold. You walk through the path, admiring the garden, but then suddenly got a thought about Damien. Oh god, please don’t let Damien be in here… You pick up speed, going through the rose garden, and you eventually hear someone humming. The song sounds very familiar as you race through the rose hedges. You keep hear the humming stop as you keep on going, and then there is an argument.

“Danni, why did you go through this operation?” A male voice asked.

“Terrence, my name is Damien, and I went through it because I wanted to be who I feel inside.” Damien’s voice said.

“What does our son think of this?”

“He loves me just the way I am, and he doesn’t need someone who was never there to tell him otherwise.”

“If you wanted to be… this... then why did you have a child?!”

“Because I wanted to have my own child before I transitioned.”

“But you were beautiful as you were born!”

“You don’t understand! I didn’t feel as beautiful as I do now. I am more confident now, and I don’t need you!”

“... Danniella, you think this will change anything? You always needed me to provide for you and Lucien. I was there for you.”

“Yes when I was still a woman, which I’m not anymore, so stop calling me Danniella!” Damien sounded like he was breaking down a bit. “You didn’t want to be with someone who would ruin your reputation, so you left.”

“... You’re a freak, and that’s all you’ll ever be. It doesn’t matter how well you’re off, or how you got to where you are, once a freak, always a freak… Danniella, why couldn’t you be a powerful woman beside a powerful man like me? Lucien needs a real man to call his father.” Terrence said, and with that, he sounded like he left Damien.

“... A real man would have stuck by to watch his son grow…” Damien muttered as you got closer. You happen upon the clearing where Damien sat. His eyes were glossed with tears as he started to cry. You stood there frozen in horror at what you were seeing.

“... Always a freak? I never thought I would hear that name again…” His voice quivered as tears kept falling down, vines and thorns crept over to Damien. “... It still hurts… I don’t know if Lucien ever saw the things I went through to make him happy, to give him a father he deserves… Maybe I’m not the father he deserves… Maybe I’m not the father he needs…” He said, but as he kept talking, his hair got longer, his features feminized, and his voice got higher. “Maybe he does deserve someone like Terrence… Maybe I should have just stayed how society was used to me as being… Something I used to be… Something I never wanted to be…” His tears kept falling down as the vines wrapped around his legs and went up his torso. It looked like the vines were giving him a corset, giving him a feminine shape, thorns making him bleed and then balled up over his pecs to give him the shape of breasts. Soon, he was wearing a Victorian-style dress made of thorns and vines. The vines wrapped around his hair to make a regal bun. Damien looked absolutely miserable, trapped, and wounded, but then there was someone else who walked up towards Damien.

“Hey mom,” It was Lucien, “Me and Dad are gonna go to a concert tonight, don’t wait up.” He said, giving Damien a white carnation before running back the way he came. Damien looked down at the flower and his lips quivered.

“... A white carnation… a woman’s good luck charm…” His tears flowed down his eyes as he hung his head as much as he could as thorny vines wrapped around his neck to make a choker, and that’s what is started to do. “A flower... befitting... a woman… like... me…” His voice started to strain as the vines started choking him, suddenly the garden slowly became darker. You snap out of your trance and run toward Damien. You smack the carnation out of his hand and tried to get the vines off of him, but it only choked him faster. You suddenly remember the knife Robert gave you. You pull it out and cut the vines from Damien, making the cut parts fall off of him, his features went back to normal as you kept cutting the thorns from him. Damien gasped hard and held his neck as he coughed and grabbed greedily for air.

“Damien, don’t ever think like that, you are a great father to Lucien, and I know for a fact that he loves you just the way you are.” You say as you hold his head and give him straight eye contact.

“... I don’t feel that way… He would be better off-” You cut him off in a hug.

“You got your house, your family and your friends all on your own, and that Terrence guy, he’s off in Rio somewhere only being a jerk for running out on his boyfriend and soon to be son. Now he has none of that, you wanna know why? Because he was threatened by you, he felt threatened when you showed just as much integrity and determination as a man, as the man you always felt like you are.” You stated, you were tearing up as well, the whole garden getting engulfed by darkness. “He could never ever amount to as much of a man as you are, he’s a coward. You said so yourself, a real man would stick by to watch his son grow. And Lucien needs you, you can’t give into this sadness, Lucien needs his father, you hear me?! Lucien needs you.”

Damien looked into your eyes, both your eyes and his eyes were getting misty as you notice cherry blossoms falling down slowly from the darkness.

“Y-You’re right, what am I thinking?... He does need me...” He asked, his hair billowing in the wind.

“Of course. Believe it.” You said, intentionally putting in that line to make Damien blush and start chuckling, and wrapping his arms around you in a hug, crying tears of relief, suddenly, cherry blossoms swirled around you both as the darkness lifted and revealed a similar room to what you were in. You were still holding onto Damien as the surroundings changed, and when you left the embrace, you looked into each other’s eyes and tears fell. The crystal around your neck was glowing as you and Damien embraced each other.

“Thank you…” Damien said to you, his voice shaky as he glowed and disappeared in your embrace. You blink as all you hugged was the air. You feel yourself and notice the crystal was gone. But as you looked around, you noticed there was another crystal that had a rose-like shape.

“What the heck is this?” You ask.

“They are the only means of escape.” Mary’s voice says behind you. You jumps and turn around, getting into a dad karate stance.

“Jeez, don’t do that! Between bipolar priests and demonic twins, the last thing I need to hear coming up from behind me is the mother from Carrie…” You say outloud, but then you cover your mouth. This made Mary laugh.

“Good one, but enough jokes. I’m glad you got Dames out, to be honest, this is one of Joseph’s more evil and sinister despair rooms.” She said, frowning. “Each despair room is equipped with a crystal to create their environment and use their insecurities against them to break their psyche down until they are nothing but empty, broken human beings…” She said, getting more sullen as she continued explaining.

“This is terrible… To do that to Damien… Oh no… Don’t tell me…” Your eyes grew wide and horrified.

“... Yes, the other dads are here too… Even Robert… He… That’s not important… Not now. What matters is that you need to save the other dads before they become vegetables of their own sorrow... “ She said, looking you dead in the eye.

You were scared, way beyond scared, shocked, that someone could be this cruel, especially to a group of dads so likeable, sweet, and sexy… No, now is not the time for you to be in your fantasy land… You have to buck up and think about the lives at stake, the children… Oh god the children, they might be without parents! Daisy… Carmensita… Briar… Hazel… River… Lucien… Ernest… Amanda… No, you can’t stand the thought of them crying. You have to do this for the children.

“Okay… I mean, I’ve already saved Damien… Wait, where did he go?” You ask Mary.

“The crystals controlling the rooms act as teleportation stones back to the surface. Once you’ve help them break their trance, they become the teleportation crystals out of here. But only one can be teleported out, and they have to be used on someone else.” Mary explained, “I couldn’t use the one you had on you because you were the only one strong enough to do this.”

You think for a minute then look down at the rose crystal, picking it up, and putting it on.

“But, why do you think I’m strong enough? I don’t think I’m that-...” You look up to face Mary but you notice you’re all alone. You sigh as you turn around and see a new door behind  you. You can’t remember which way you came in, but you had a feeling since you were facing the table that Damien was on, the door behind you was where you came in. Determination in hand, you ball up your fists, tie your shoes tight, tucking in your laces, and step toward the door, and turned the knob, noticing that you were shaking as you reached for it. You felt like you couldn’t move, but you felt like if you could save your potential life partners, it was worth every single ounce of terror in your bones.

[eyez-ff-blog]

○○ eyez | three

JFK Airport was bustling with individuals—it seemed that people were hurriedly trying to get across the country for Christmas. Considering that it was the early morning, the most traffic was coming and going from the airport. This Christmas Eve was no forgiving foe at all, but Beija was determined to make it home no matter what.

Beija had been on a schedule—she had spent the last three days preparing for her Christmas trip back home in Houston. She had fedexed her gifts to her parents and siblings already, and she had gotten her house supremely cleaned and prepared for her absence. All that had remained was getting to the airport so she could get home. She left her house five hours prior to her flight, enduring traffic, harsh winter weather, and a tedious security process. She was so close now—all she had to do was get to a arrival and departure directory to see if she was on schedule.

Her heart sank when she saw the ‘CANCELLED’ on her flight. She knew that the weather had been bad but apparently it was too bad to fly. A couple of other flights had been terminated as well, much to the dismay of many other passing passengers.

As she headed back towards the baggage claim to get her luggage back, she pulled out her phone to call her parents. Dialing the number to the house, she pressed her phone to her ear before she kept her eyes on the luggage that fell from the chute and onto the revolving conveyor belt. “Hello?” She heard a deep voice—it was her younger brother Terrence.

“T, it’s B—where’s mama?” Seeing her pastel orange rolling bag fall onto the conveyor belt, and she grabbed it off of the line before she walked back towards the entrance.

“She in the kitchen, hold on,” He yelled for their mother, and she sighed as she headed outside into the cold weather again. She flagged down a cab and watched it pull up to the curb before she began to help the cabby load up the car.

“Hey Beija,” She heard her mother’s voice, and she bit at her bottom lip as she entered the cab. “Waiting at the gate still?” She asked.

“Flight got cancelled,” B sighed softly. “I’m sorry, mama,” She said with a small frown.

“Really? Weather must be that bad up there. Well, I’ll tell Raymond and the boys—I wish you could have come baby,” Her mother said with a matching disappointment in her tone.

“Me too. But I guess there’s nothing I can do. I’ll at least Skype you and the family tomorrow,” Beija promised.

“That will be fine. At least we’ll see your face. But how is everything? School okay?”

Beija paused briefly to tell the cab driver the way towards her apartment building before she answered. “Well, school has been fine. My grades just came in and I got all A’s,” She said.

“Ah, good! I know that some of those classes were hard, so I’m proud of you,” Her mother beamed. “And how is the label? Is everyone being nice to you?” She asked.

“You acting like it’s kindergarten,” Beija laughed softly. “But yeah, everyone is pretty cool. They act like my brothers, so you can imagine how that’s been going,” The women laughed. “But I’m getting to live my dream. Next semester I’m going to do online classes because Ib wants to take me on tour as a part of my internship,” She said.

“Tour? Like around the country? That’s amazing! So you’ll get to see more sights and meet more people...as long as you—...”

“Balance my priorities, I know,” Beija let out a soft laugh before she sat back against the leather seating of the car. “But trust me, I’m gonna walk across that stage with my masters and a whole job offer. The world ain’t ready for me,” She smiled.

“That’s my baby!” Her mother chuckled. “So have you met anyone up there? Any men we need to know about?” She asked.

“Mom,” Beija whined softly.

“Sorry, sorry. I can’t help it, though! I just want a grandbaby soon enough,” Her mom chuckled softly.

“You’ve got three other siblings and at least two of them are old enough to financially support a child—go bother them,” Beija’s cab slowed to a stop when she reached her building, and she sighed as she sat up in her seat. “I just got home, so I will call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright. I love you and Merry Christmas,” Her mom’s voice seemed to hold some warmth, but there was a layer of sadness that could be felt. Beija could barely blame her—she was sad herself that she would be stuck alone for Christmas.

“Love you too, Merry Christmas,” Beija hung up the phone before she blew out a wad of air, getting out of her car before she was helped with her bags. Once she had everything, she headed up into her building before she made the trip to her floor. Once she made it off the elevator she made her way down the hallway before she sat down her bags and began to unlock the door.

As she fiddled with her keys, she heard the door behind her open, and she looked back to see Omari walking out of his apartment, his messenger bag slung against his left shoulder. “Hey there, Miss Beija,” He greeted.

“Omari; how are you?” She gave him a soft smile as he nodded, turning to lock his door.

“Good, good—can’t complain. Finna go on trip for the Holidays?” He asked.

“I wish I could say yeah. My flight actually just got cancelled so I’m about to prepare for a lonely ass Christmas,” She tried to joke so she wouldn’t show how upset she was about it.

“Damn, that’s rough. I can’t say I can’t relate. Money too low to head back down to Shreveport,” He sympathized.

“That’s where that accent’s from! I couldn’t put a finger on the shit at all,” Beija let out a small laugh and Omari wasn’t too far behind her with a laugh of his own.

“And you gotta be from the south too. I hear it—let me guess...” Beija finally got the door open, and he came forward to help her with her bags. “I wanna say Texas. Dallas?” He asked.

“Houston. You were close,” She nodded as she got all of her bags inside of her house. “You still tryna get inside my house,” She teased, and Omari shook his head as the two of them chuckled.

“Oh, never. I’m still working at your pace. But what I will do is invite you to mine. Tomorrow I’m having a Christmas party...well, it’s more of a kickback,” He explained. “Just some friends from my job are coming through and now that I know your situation, I’d feel bad if I didn’t invite you and left you alone on Christmas day,” Omari gave her a warm smile, and for some reason that made Beija feel a slight pang in the pit of her stomach. She was annoyed now—she was too old for ‘butterflies’ and all that junk.

“I don’t wanna impose on your party,” She insisted, and he sucked his teeth softly.

“Stop that, ma. I want you there. Just...think about it, alright?” Omari nodded slowly before he stepped away from her door and headed down the hallway towards the elevator.

Beija shut and locked the door behind her, sighing as she placed her hands upon her hips. Glancing up at the ceiling, she rolled her eyes as she huffed. “Seriously?” She mumbled to herself before she went to unpack her things.

After she put all of her things away, she decided to go down to the grocery store—she figured if she was going to be home for Christmas, she might as well prepare to make a small meal for herself. After she returned from the store and put her groceries away, she heard her phone ringing from in the living room. She returned and grabbed her phone, seeing the contact name—‘Jermaine.’

She had to wonder what he was calling her for, but it didn’t stop her from picking up the phone. “Hey,” She said softly as she finally took a rest on the couch, looking at her Christmas tree that was neatly trimmed and tucked in the corner of her living space.

“Hey. I just called to wish you Merry Christmas—did you make it home yet? Ib said you were flying out,” He explained his reason for calling and she slipped off her shoes before she laid leisurely across her couch.

“Flight was cancelled, so I’m spending Christmas in New York,” She replied.

“I’m sorry about that. I can tell you wanted to go,” Beija wasn’t sure if it was obvious in her voice, but he seemed to pick up on her disappointment.

“It’s cool. You back in Fayetteville or nah?” She reached for the television and turned it on, turning the volume down so that it didn’t drown out his voice.

“We just got here, actually,” When he mentioned a ‘we,’ Beija almost asked who his travel companion was until she mentally reminded herself that he had a wife. She knew her name was Melissa, and she seen a couple pictures and that was about it. “Somebody almost killed us driving like a madman, but we good—ow,” He hissed, and Beija let out a laugh.

“Look at you pissing the wife off. You better chill,” She smiled to herself.

“Yeah, whatever,” He chuckled lowly. “But I almost forgot—we gonna have a little kickback at my spot for my birthday in January. This is your formal invitation and shit,” He said.

“Cool, sounds dope. What’s the dress code?” She asked. There was a stint of silence over the line.

“...Dress code?” He mumbled. “I mean, wear what you wanna wear. Be comfortable,” He said.

“That’s not the answer I want. Lord, I forget you trying to rock your bum couture nowadays,” Beija scolded.

“Oh, you got jokes,” Jermaine let out a deep laughter, and Beija anxiously shifted into the couch at the gained bass in his tone. “But why you tryna dress up and outdo me? Who you tryna impress?” He asked in a teasing tone.

“Nigga, don’t even sniff yourself too hard. I just like to dress nice,” She explained.

“Whatever you wanna wear, wear it, a’ight? I won’t even bring up that you trying to look nice for Dame. Wait...” He sarcastically trailed off.

“Oh, fuck you!” The two began to laugh. “Y’all gotta let that go. Dame’s like my brother, ain’t no pulling with that. Plus, I’m focused on school,” She explained.

“That’s good, though. All jokes aside, stay focused—you gonna feel proud when you walk across that stage,” Beija found herself smiling a bit at his kind words. It reminded her of her family and the things they would say, and it held the same kind of sincerity and warmth. “What level you on now? Goin’ for bachelors?”

“Masters,” She heard Jermaine let out a low whistle. “Exactly. Trying to overachieve are one of my many talents,” Beija joked.

“When you graduating?” He asked.

“May. Finally,” She let out a small sigh. “It’s been crazy trying to balance you guys and school but I’ve made it this far.”

“Shit, you doin’ the damn thing, ma. I commend you, real talk,” Beija found herself smiling even more, crossing her legs as she laid across the couch.

“Aw, thank you. Really—it feels good to know that somebody appreciating all my hard work!” She laughed. “But quiet as it is kept, you’ve been a help even before we met,” She admitted.

“I was?” Jermaine sounded confused.

“Yeah! Those all-nighters when I had to study, I had your music on. And then when I found out you had a degree yourself it really made me push harder. You inspire me,” Beija didn’t notice how small her voice had gotten, and it was best not to acknowledge it within.

“Damn. I ain’t even all that,” He laughed to lighten the moment before it teetered. “But I appreciate you sayin’ that, for real. Just know when you graduate we finna show out. I’mma be there loud as fuck, acting up. Then we goin’ out to eat like some rich white folk,” He said.

“Shut up,” Beija giggled as she shook her head.

“I’m serious though! You a part of the family now. Ain’t no way we missing you graduate,” She could hear the sincerity and the warmth in his voice again and it made her feel comforted.

“Don’t make me all emotional. But I look forward to that,” She nodded as if she could see, and the two fell into a comfortable silence.

“But let me stop bothering you, I’m about to get this shit up in the house anyway now that we’ve arrived,” He explained. “Aye, one more thing though...promise me somethin’?” He began.

“Hm?”

“Whenever you need somethin’ or just wanna talk—don’t hesitate to find me. You got my cell, make use of it,” He said, and she raised her eyebrows slowly. “And I could say that really goes for anyone else in the label. I want you to feel welcome with us,” His voice grew serious.

“Oh, yeah. Okay...I can promise you that,” Beija said. “Have a good holiday, Jermaine,” She finished.

“You too,” The two hung up, and Beija sat her phone on the table before she laid back down against the couch, staring at the ceiling before she took a deep breath. She probably should have been a bit alarmed at the man’s want for her to reach out to him, but she couldn’t find the harm in it. He seemed to have no ulterior motive, and that was a surprise in her eyes. Nonetheless, she was glad that the assumptions that she had about Jermaine upon meeting were true—he was a genuine person at heart, and it would be something that would stick with her.

[captainswaglord500]

Page 35: Reunion, Anyone?

The leader of the army approaches Cletus and says:

Army leader: “How shall we serve you, master?”

Cletus: “‘Master’?”

Army leader: “You defeated Shanaya, and by extension, Tradle was banished back to the underworld, making you our leader.”

Cletus: “Uh, I don’t know. Just enjoy yourselves. Take a vacation.”

Army leader: But we must serve you.”

Cletus: “Well, if you insist, then just keep this mountain safe from more lunatics. Alright?”

Army leader: “You have our word.” The army all arise at once and promptly disperse.

Bob and Vincent: “Yo, what did we miss?”

Jean: “Weren’t they dead a day ago?”

El Diablo Negro: “Who cares? I got my best friend back!”

Vincent: “Get in here, nephew.” Mark approaches Vincent and gives a bearhug. Ike begins to glow.

Ike: “I feel tingly.”

Terrence: “Please don’t ever say that sentence again.” Ike begins to transform into a human. Jean immediately recognizes him as Gene.

Jean: “I thought you sounded familiar.”

Gene: “I’m back, memories and everything!” Gene cheers excitedly before saying: “You know, actually, I liked being a giant chicken thing. Alright. Big guy in the sky or whoever caused me to change, change me back.” Gene begins to morph back into his Ike persona.

Ike: “Now we’re talking.” He looks down and begins to see flowers budding from the ground. A bird flies overhead.

Naku (looking down the mountain): “Look!” Everyone turns to see all the animals migrating back north in one giant group. Up in the sky, a massive bird calls out from the air above. Everyone looks up to see a giant pelagornithid, with its feathers being the color of the blue sky. It swoops down and lands in front of Cletus. It then closed its eyes and bowed its head down to him.

???: “I speak for all of Heaven when I say this: thank you. I am Asuryt, the dawn-bringer bird. Without you, all of our very existences would’ve been threatened by Tradle and Shanaya’s destruction. But you near-singlehandedly defeated both of them, a feat that would be otherwise impossible for a half-mortal like you. Your name shall forever be remembered by the gods as Cletus Creed, the savior of Heaven and Earth.” Everyone nearby applauds and cheers for Cletus. Even the animals down below look up to Cletus and roar, hiss, squeal, trumpet, and buzz with joy. Sauropods raise up on their back legs and bellowed. Mammoths raise their trunks in the air and trumpet. And then everyone, including Asuryt, bow. Asuryt then flies off into the heavens.

Cletus (calling out): “Wait!” Asuryt returned. “What happened to Shanaya and Tradle?”

Asuryt: “Tradle has been cast back down to the underworld. And as for Shanaya? Well, he’s been destroyed for good. The evillest being in all existence has been destroyed.” Asuryt then flies off again.

Maria: “The world is being restored to how it should be.” Dr. Kim and the soldiers approach the group.

Dr. Kim: “Forgive us.”

Henry: “For what?”

Dr. Kim: “We did terrible things under her control.”

Cletus: “We forgive you.”

Dr. Kim: “Thank you.” (To soldiers): “Alright. Let’s pack it up, boys. We’re going home.”

Ike (to Naku): “This is amazing, I gotta say.” Ike takes note of Naku spacing out and says: “Yo. You alright?”

Voice #1: “Naku?”

Voice #2: “Naku?” Two parasaurolophuses approach the group. The first one says:

Parasaurolophus #1: “Have you seen our son?”

Parasaurolophus #2: “Yeah. He probably looks like you, but he has a scar on his back right leg.”

Naku: “Yes, actually. I have.” He stands up on his hind legs for a brief moment to reveal the scar. “You’re looking straight at him.”

Parasaurolophus #1: “I don’t believe it! After twenty-five years of searching, we finally found you!”

Naku: “It’s been that long?”

Parasaurolophus #2: “We thought perhaps you had been killed! But we kept searching, hoping that we’d eventually find you. And we did!”

Parasaurolophus #1: “Come. We have much to talk about.” Naku’s parents turn in the other direction. Naku doesn’t move, however. His parents turn around.

Parasaurolophus #2: “Is something wrong?”

Naku: “Well, I uh… want to go with you guys, but I also want to be around the group I’ve been spending time with.”

Parasaurlophus #2 places her right front leg on Naku’s head.

Parasaurolophus #2: “Hey. It’s okay. We understand. Just come pay us a visit every now and then.”

Parasaurolophus #1: “We’ll be nearby.” Suddenly, a massive light beam shines down upon the entire group except for Naku’s parents.

Parasaurolophus #2: “Oh, no! Ujfur’s taking my only son! No! I just got him back!”

Parasaurolophus #1: “Margaret, it’s okay. Perhaps this is what destiny chose. That perhaps after finding our son, we’d finally be at peace. And now, he can go to live amongst the gods.” The entire group is then suddenly beamed up into the sky. They are now on a massive, alien ship. Small, four-legged, robotic creatures crawl across the floor

Bob (staring out the massive out of the massive windows on the side of the ship): “Hey, look! I can see Earth from here!”

Mark: “What is this place?” He taps on a small screen. A hologram of Earth and several of its native species show up. One of the robotic creatures comes up and presses a button on the controls. The hologram zooms in on Xenogaea.

???: “This is where we monitor humanity,” a deep, regal-sounding voice says from the other direction. The robotic creatures slowly scuttle in the direction of the voice. Everyone turns to see a very tall, humanoid figure with dark skin, brown hair, including a beard, and brown eyes. His clothing consists a long, colorful robe with blue, green, and brown stripes on it. In his hand is a long, high-tec staff of some sort that emitted a blue glow. “I am Ujfur, the leader of the Draconic pantheon.”

Bob: “Ujfur? You mean the sauropod creator god? You look nothing like his picture!” Ujfur looks at him. “Of course, no portrayal of you could ever capture your elegance, o great sky father.” Ujfur smiles and chuckles slightly.

Ujfur: “This one right here is one of my finer creations.” He bends down to pat Bob on the head. Bob smiles.

Bob: “I’m never washing my head again.”

Ujfur: “Indeed, you have all proven yourself to be worthy to live amongst us gods. You have proven to us that, through all that, you managed to have faith in one another and in yourselves. And so, we offer you to join us up here as gods amongst humanity.”

El Diablo Negro: “That offer does sound nice…”

Cletus: “But I think that we are better suited to live amongst humanity as mortals.”

Everyone else except for HW247: “What?”

Vincent: “Are you crazy? Imagine how cool it would be!”

HW247: “Cletus has a point. As much as that offer sounds like a good deal, I believe that I should serve humanity as a mortal myself, as that is what makes my own life worth living, knowing that in the process of saving others, I could put myself at risk, too. If I was a god, then there would be no purpose for any of that. If something happened to humanity, it wouldn’t be my problem. And I feel like I am in this, we are in this together as a group.”

Ujfur: “Are you sure you want to decline such an offer?”

Ike (frantically): “Don’t decline! Don’t decline!”

HW247: “I think that, representing the entire group, I decline.” Everyone else except for Cletus groans in anger.

Naku: “Seriously, man? We could’ve been legends!”

Cletus: “We can still be legends in other ways.”

Ujfur: “Very well. I wish you all luck back on Earth. And remember, if you need something, the big guy in the sky is there for you.”

Nahuoi: “Ah, man! I wanted to be a goddess so badly!” (In a deranged tone): “That way, I could rain death upon everyone who ever crossed me!” she yells in a deranged voice. Everyone backed away a few steps.

Bob: “She’s freaking me out,” Bob said.

Vincent: “You’ll have to get used to it. This is normal for her.”

Ujfur: “Oh. I almost forgot. Please do take one of my maintenance drones with you in case you need something,” One of the robots marches over to the group and waves its “tail” as a form of greeting. “This is Maintenance Drone model 915, or MD-915 for short. Like my other drones, she is a synthetic lifeform that came from another planet long ago. She’s not only capable of long-distance communication, but can also change the atomic arrangement of objects and she comes equipped with a spear-like syphon at the end of her tail. Her armor is waterproof and highly-resistant to extreme conditions. Like a living animal, she requires food, preferably scrap metal but she can also obtain energy from electrical outlets, and she also responds to commands like a dog. If you need to find anything else out about her, there is an owner’s manual stored in her chest compartment. I wish all of you the best of luck back on Earth.” Everyone except Maria is beamed back down to Earth.

Margaret: “Shirley, I don’t think he’s coming back.”

Shirley: “Even if he doesn’t, he’s still up there in good hands. We’re talking about the big guy in the sky, you see.” Suddenly, everyone appears back on the ground.

Margaret: “He’s back!”

Shirley: “The gods have spoken!”

Maria: “Why did you keep me here?”

Ujfur: “Because I have something to show you,” Ujfur said. Suddenly, a middle-aged, dark-skinned man looking to be of Hispanic origin steps out from behind Ujfur. He has a long, unshaved beard, but seems to be healthy and well taken-care of.

Maria: “¿Papá? (Dad?)” Tears well up in her eyes. She rushes up to him and hugs him tightly.

Julian: “Has crecido mucho desde la última vez que te vi. (You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you.) Te pareces a tu madre. (You look like your mother.) How is she?” Her expression becomes a bit more melancholic.

Maria: “She died a few years after we last heard from you. Uncle Rafael says she died of grief He had to take care of me after she passed. But where were you? I thought you were dead.”

Julian: “I was on the verge of death. But little did I know that the gods of the native people’s religions were looking after me. They rescued me and I lived here among them for a while. I guess you could say I was always watching over you.”

Maria: *Pfft* “Whatever you say, dad.” The two of them are beamed back down to Earth.

Terrence: “So what are we gonna do now, savior of Heaven and Earth?” Terrence said. Cletus turned to him and said:

Cletus: “‘Savior of Heaven and Earth’? You really don’t need to be that respectful to me!”

Terrence (jokingly): “Hey, loser! What the hell we gonna do now?” Everyone chuckles a bit.

Cletus: “Well, in all seriousness, we all went through a lot together. Well, I mean except for you, HW247. You kinda just showed up at the end. But that’s fine. It would be a shame if we all went our separate ways. I feel like we make a powerful force when all together.”

Naku: “So what are you implying?” Cletus turn to him and smiles.

Cletus: “I mean we should do this as a profession. We’re gonna protect this land with everything we got. And if anything messes with one of us, they mess with all of us. And you don’t mess with family.”

Terrence: “Now you’re speaking my language!”

Cletus: “Come on, guys. There’s lots more left to do.” The group starts making their trek down the mountain.

El Diablo Negro: “Can we at least stop somewhere? my feet are killing me!”

Nahuoi: “I gotta agree with him on this one. We’re also gonna need a base of operations.”

Cletus: “Like where?”

NahuoI: “Well, we could use my family’s farm. We’d just need to renovate it a bit.”

Cletus: “How long of a walk is that from here?”

Nahuoi: “At least another day if we keep going straight and don’t take any breaks.”

El Diablo Negro: “But I need to rest now!”

Nahuoi: “Suck it up for just another day.”

El Diablo Negro: “do you have any idea how long a day is?”

Nahuoi: “Twenty-four hours.”

El Diablo Negro: “I didn’t mean that literally!”

[joshuazev]

On the underground:

For the second year in a row I missed a full season of opportunities to walk through Central Park in the fall when the leaves are at their most beautiful and the weather is perfect with a divine mixture of warmth and breeze.  There is a jar full of excuses I could pick out of but none are too valid.  The days were getting shorter.  I don’t think so.  The trains took a little longer.  I don’t think so.  I was busy at the time.  You didn’t have any free days?  I took that figurative jar of excuses and chucked it at a wall and watched the glass vanish in a puff of smoke.  One day in the middle of January I was walking alongside Central Park West and saw that, for no particular reason at all, the normally naked trees with their “Night Before Christmas” branches were suddenly in full bloom.  I did a double take and then a third, and a fourth, went through a couple hundred blinks and a furious rub of the eyes and sure enough, without question, I could see that Central Park had somehow revitalized its fall presentation.  A couple was walking in my direction and just to be crystal clear I asked them to look in the park and tell me what they saw.  The first couple looked at me, then looked at the park, then back at me and continued walking without answering the question.  A runner sprinting in my direction was going to be the second victim, but I knew what was like to run and have someone try and stop me, so I let him go.  I wasn’t as considerate to the older gentleman that was attempting to run, but was making the progress of a casual walker.  I stopped him too, but he hissed at me and continued on.  I thought to myself, “OK, someone is going to tell me that I’m not dreaming.  Someone will tell me that it is odd indeed that the park looks this way at this time of the year.  Someone will.”  The problem was, after making this commitment to find someone that agreed with me, it seemed like everyone had vanished.  There were no more runners.  There no tourists on bikes.  There were no old-money, upper-class, families peering down from their 20th floor balconies.  I guess I missed my chance.  There wasn’t even a car on Central Park West anymore.  I looked as far down as I could see and I knew I could make out some people and some traffic down the way, but damn, I was left like a person who had just farted on the train.  I was entranced by the sudden mystique of the time.  It didn’t take long to find an opening in the wall of the sidewalk, descend the steps, and find a path to walk on and direction to follow.  

The last time I remember being in Central Park with this much orange was when it was the subject of an art experiment.  “The Gates”, as they were known, was a joint work of art by a Bulgarian Christo Yavacheff and Jeanne Claude.  According to Wikipedia they put up 7,503 vinyl gates along 23 miles of pathways in the park.  I remember the gates being orange, but being that this was New York and they were European artists, the color was known as “a deep saffron.”  I was young at the time, so I didn’t mind the installation being all over, but maybe my opinion would have changed had I experienced it as a grown up.  It had taken place in February and my father and I just so happened to be there during the two weeks or so that it had been up.  The growing green on the ground of the February winter and the deep orange of the gates made it seem like it was fall, though.  Wonderful earth colors.  An open air forest surrounded by a city.  It was gorgeous.  I walked along one of the paths heading north and was taken back to this moment in time.  It did freak me out when I didn’t see people within the park.  Apparently there was an absence of life extending from the street to the park because I swear on my life I could see the mile or so to the east and hear the traffic that could only be audible in a bustling city.  I hoped so, at least, but at this point I really didn’t care.  The leaves, branches, oranges and variants of, and browns and variants of, had my full attention.  In a dazed stupor I followed the army of trees as long as they would take me and they took me all over the park.  Rights and lefts and straights and behinds; it was like I was doing a non stop pirouette.  The state of intoxication distracted me so much that I didn’t realize that the paths were no more and after looking back apparently they had been for a long time.  The ground in every direction was a mossy terrain covered in a wet dew and it was lucky I hadn’t slipped and fallen on my ass.  Right on cue, however, I found an extra wet patch of green and did one of those balancing acts like someone who has skating on ice for the first time, flailing my arms in the hope of regaining an equilibrium, but ultimately doing a Daniel Stern in “Home Alone” and ending up with a “SMACK!” right on my backside.  There was good fortune even in casualty.  With my body lying flat on the ground I looked up a sky that resembled a scene from a Terrence Malick still.  Long trees that reached beyond the heavens with their brothers and sisters having given birth to wispy limbs of unforeseen autumn rainbows.  

This was a dream.  This was a movie…or something.  I got up slowly and felt very alone, but nonetheless as determined as ever to find the root of this magic.  As great as I felt and as alone as I felt, I had to admit that whatever strange dimension was as transformative as it was fascinating.  Recovered fully to a standing position I looked ahead to see a dirt road that appeared to lead to the reservoir, but when I looked to the left and the right to further take in my surroundings I was met with a shifts in ways I can’t adequately explain.  Not quite a kaleidoscope eye and not quite an acid trip perspective, but a similar experience to looking at a holographic card when I was young.  If you moved the card or moved your body to an alternate angle the image would change.  So, you can imagine, looking at something already completely strange—a sardine packed forest of Cedar, Cherry, Magnolia, Beech, Hackberry, Chestnut, Oak, Elm, Maple with obscure seasonal extremities—and then turning your attention with a inch shift of the face and seeing a split in your vision to what now are several dirt roads leading to nowhere.  It was nice to have the card in your mind because it was something small to control and there was power in that…but this wasn’t a card anymore.  I journeyed ahead to the original dirt road and started to hear the howls of animals that were foreign to this forest.  Howls that belonged to Howler monkeys, screeches that belonged to siamangs, and roars that made me feel like I was suddenly in “The Jungle Book.”  I wasn’t so comfortable anymore, enamored with the fall in winter, or my initially welcomed solitary journey into an overpopulated arena and what was worse was the reservoir that provided an eyesore for the casual and serious runner, walker, tourist, and native was too still to make me feel comfortable.  It would have made more sense if I saw a tsunami wave heading toward me that had been birthed from this body of water, but no, that would have been too much to ask for.  That would have contributed too much to the fantastical and suddenly this presence of something normal in the park was now not normal at all.  

I don’t know why I did what I did.  There was nobody around, which made it an unsafe decision, but there are moments that call for the unknown.  The screams in the undiscovered around me didn’t help, but the utter absence of human life comforted me.  I knew the water would tell me a story and maybe the story I was looking for.  Not even bothering to look around to see if I was being watched—the animals didn’t care and the trees already had their eyes shielded, I stripped off my clothes and stepped on the very narrow landing over the fence, which was an awkward challenge in the first place.  I didn’t know how cold the water would be or if now, of all times, there were sharks lurking or man-eating piranhas.  I couldn’t even remember the last time I went for a swim and that presented it’s own obstacle because I wondered if I could even swim or tread water long enough to find what I was looking for—whatever that was.  Fuck it.  I dove in and landed with a little bit of a belly flop into an ocean of supernatural liquid.  I went up to get some air, but something—maybe my own curiosity—pulled me under without gathering a normally much needed breath.  With eyes closed shut I opened them and did not see what I was looking for.  But that’s not all.  What I did see was what I expect parts of Venice will look like after it tragically finds itself under water.  An Atlantis of sorts with soon to be prehistoric European architecture and only a overflowing of wonderment of what it could have possibly looked like long long ago.  I was astounded at the clarity of what was visible underneath.  From above, the water’s deep blue hue, gives no inkling that something like this could have existed.  And that was fine with me.  I swam and forgot about needing to breathe because I no longer needed to.  The further down I went, the more I submerged myself, the more I realized that I was embarking on something that could prevent me from ever seeing the above again.  I didn’t send any goodbye texts.  Didn’t make any calls.  Then again, who knows how permanent this was even going to be.  I mean, for Christ sake, I was breathing underwater.  This was no time to think of existence.  I was too busy having my mind blown by the Venetian ghetto that Shylock once called his home, or Picasso’s “On the Beach” that must have ventured off from its home at the Guggenheim, or “Assumption of the Virgin” which must have broken off from the Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, or the Rialto--which, at this point, was now suspended above me, levitated in the heavens.  

Suddenly, I was sinking even further and the mirage of Venice was no more.  There was nothing to grab onto.  Nothing.  Just the peculiar sound, first, of subways taking off from their stations and then followed by the sight of a rusty looking train with the letter K shooting through the water like a bazooka.  I was headed toward the first surface that I had seen under in this water world, something that resembled a sidewalk cellar door, and with speed that I couldn’t control I blasted through the cellar and landed hard on the stairs below, the doors allowing a whoosh of water in before creaking to a halt.  Underground.  

To be continued.  

[ask-steven-stevenson]

“Aha… thank you- ah. Anyways. How are you.”

[He!! Dusted his suit off. Giving the other a faint smile.]

hiii!!!! a. very large creature is here!!!!! it looks vaguely like your son!!!!! what the hell. it walks over and sniffs you!!!!! it seems to understand who you are and nudges you with its.... nose? it doesnt have nose though but you get it. it nudges you and it sounds like its purring!!!!!

//@the-flys-buzz (cryptid creature..... i feel like he acts like a big cat around the people he trusts in this form)

[Hi! Steven yelped. He got spooked!! But hello! Steven.. pat them on the head!!]