#A second shirt serves as the pants with a hole for the tail

[random-chaos-and-stuff]

Silly Game Time: WRONG ANSWERS ONLY! What's an acceptable response to someone saying, "Good job!"

Licking one eye and skittering away on all fours.

[angelictyphoon]

Vash slips his fingertips slowly across the upturned face of Nicholas’s palm until their fingers interlace. Squeezing, Vash holds Nicholas’s gaze long enough to feel the full warmth trapped between their hands. He does nothing to hide the wonder in his voice nor the positively smitten wrinkles that form at the corners of his eyes. 

“Never seen you hold a baby before.” 

Humans are already so fragile, so easy to break. 

“Made it look like the most natural thing in the world, too.” 

Vash would not have trusted himself. It would have been akin to making a promise he may not be able to keep, and Vash has already made that mistake before. Too often. Too many times. There he goes, living in his head about it when they haven’t even stepped out of the room. 

Melanie is percipient. If he were about three feet shorter, she’d be that much more terrifying. 

The second floor as a whole bears far less evidence of childrens’ handiwork. Closed bedroom doors on one side, a small common space between, and the washroom door opposite. They make their way past the cushioned rocking chair sitting behind a privacy screen, a freestanding roll of muslin and lumpy work table covered by heavy cloth suggests sewing and embroidery machines used to repair the many tears, rips, and holes that inevitably visit cloth materials on the orphanage grounds. 

A double-vanity sink ensures washed hands and fresh faces does not take long. 

They can hear and smell the refectory long before they ever step foot in it. High ceilings and open rafters stretch over two tables that stretch from one end of the room to the next. A serving counter extends about half the breadth of the room with a dedicated table for adults attached at the end. 

There are far more children here than they witnessed out in the yard, filling up nearly every bench with chatter and messy mouths. Many of those who did not survive the passing of the Ark left little ones behind, many of whom found their way to Hopeland after the dust settled. Those who did not witness the trio’s exploits were informed in spectacular, hyperbolic fashion by their peers.

The room falls into a bubbling silence that pops as soon as any one of them attempt to announce themselves. 

“Big Brother Nico and his friends! You came back! You came back!” 

Slowed only by the need to clamber over each other and the benches upon which they sit, children fearlessly swarm the two brothers. Pulling at pant legs, shirt hems, and sleeves, all with arguments over which table is the cool table for them to sit at. 

One ginger-haired child manages to climb about halfway up Livio’s back before getting dragged back down to earth by his cohorts. Another enterprising climber soon replaces him.

“Mr. Angel, too! Come sit with us! Come, come!”

“M-Mr. Angel?” Vash squawks, bug-eyed as he’s pulled down by the arm. He flails, waggling his limbs in an awkward dance to keep prying hands away from the gun at his hip. The kids spare no hesitation tugging and flapping the tails of his coat.

“Where are your cool feathers? Pew! You can catch bullets with them, right? I remember!”

“Uh, I’m really not–ah, hey! Let’s not, please–” Flustered, Vash is turning redder by the second.

“That’s quite enough!” Melanie’s voice booms, hushing the clamor at once and scattering the crowd back to their seats. They keep their grumbles under their breath, but a warning glare sets them right. “I did warn them not to get too excited,” she sighs, brushing away a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “But when do kids ever listen when you tell them to? C’mon then, help yourselves and join us.”

There are two other women already seated at the adults’ table. Paige, who they had seen earlier out in the yard, and a darker-haired woman sipping juice out of her cup with a rifle slung across her shoulders. Recognition flickers in her eyes as she looks up to the group’s approach.

“I suppose introductions and re-introductions are in order,” Melanie muses. “We all do our fair share on the grounds, but Paige helps run our classroom and kitchen. Jasmine came back from Octovern not long ago. She keeps an eye out for trouble when she isn’t helping me keep this whole place from falling apart.”

Melanie trusts. She trusts Nicholas with this task, just like she trusted him with Maylene all those years ago, before he became the bloody snarling thing she witnessed crucified in the courtyard. This is such a strange confluence of the (relatively) recent and the far-flung past. Another lifetime in all the senses that matter.

While it plucks a thread of vague disorientation, Wolfwood hums low, slanting a wry smirk at Melanie while he relinquishes his knuckles to chewing that only intensifies as he murmurs soft nonsense barely intelligible over the sounds of morning rounds.

If he sees the way Vash looks at him, he does not acknowledge it except in a warm glance askance, his focus arrested because it must be. If he knows who released the birds, he still isn't talking, still isn't betraying that trust (and neither is Livio—although he may simply not know). Something to be said about a secret taken to one's grave. Something, too, about cages. Whether a cage can be luxurious, whether a wild thing even wants to be taken care of. Something about freedom, agency. Sometimes it is worthwhile to be uncomfortable to exert change.

Nothing uncomfortable here except the realization of scale—how low the ceiling is, how short Melanie is, how all of these features that held so much prominence in life seem changed with perspective. The child is so small in his hands, so much smaller than he ever remembers a baby being, delicate and resilient in the same breath. His palm dwarfs her shoulders as he cradles the curve of her head and neck, bracing the whole of her helpless weight on his forearm.

He is a walking weapon. He could hurt her without even trying, without even meaning to, and she is perfectly content to wiggle, nestle in against the curve of his pectoral, rotund legs giving kick-kicks as she makes herself at home.

"Hey, yeah, speakin' of cleanin' up sh— uh. Poop. There's—"

Babies are uncoordinated, but sometimes they seem to know exactly what they're about. In this case, she shoves the whole of her fist directly into Wolfwood's mouth, seizing hold of his bottom lip without a care in the world. He grunts his surprise and she has the audacity to giggle about it.

And then Livio starts with a snort. And then another. And then yet another, extended, and even his own enormous paw is not enough to conceal his grin, not enough to bottle his laughter. He has the decency to restrain its full thunder to shoulder-trembling chest-rattling wheezes, and the promise in Wolfwood's glare only makes him laugh harder as he leans aside. Nothing can hide him from that scrutiny, not even trying to bury himself behind Melanie and Vash tomas-style.

"—excuse'ee 'iss, usin' that," Nicholas grumbles, tilting his head to gently prise his lip from the little one's grip and failing at first. She stretches it down over his lower teeth, utterly amused at the salient grimace, doubly so as she finally lets go. Wolfwood's skin snaps back, vital and elastic, and he adjusts his posture to keep his face well away from her range of motion, working and popping his jaw for good measure.

Granted, the grabby hands remain grabby. They find his cross soon thereafter, a shiny new object of fascination she intends to gnaw on, wholly at odds with the notion of getting settled back down.

Melanie lets this struggle play out for a few moments before she rises from the couch with a touch to Vash's shoulder and to the top of Livio's head. She sweeps in to take the little one from Wolfwood's arms, rocking gently to assuage the immediate fuss. "Well, seems she's spoken. No talk of work until you three have cleaned up and had something to eat. You can use the restrooms up here, and I'll head down and let them know to expect you. I'm sure you remember the way."

"Um, Ms. Mel... they're not going to be afraid?"

"Oh, Livio. Why in Heaven's name would they be afraid? Remember not to live so much in your own head. You too," she appends to Vash and to Wolfwood both, spurring Nicholas to inhale and stir from staring at his own hands. Bloodstained and unworthy as they are... but still useful.

Livio precedes them out of the office, hooking a left past the unoccupied nursery and to the facilities reserved for adults.

By now, most of the kids will be in the dining area. News travels quickly in such an insular place, and as Melanie parts with a warm, knowing smile, she carries onward, sharing a quiet word with a dark-haired young woman on the way downstairs.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 (𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨) 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣)× 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.7K

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢. 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙱𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗).

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @little-precious-baby @cometoceantrenches @yunhofingers @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez

𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚘 @yunhoiseyecandy 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊

▲───────◇◆◇───────▲

Hearing the front door slam, Y/N knew it was more than certain that it had been a bad day at practice for her boyfriend. She heard him toss himself onto the couch, no doubt exhausted from all the rigorous preparations they were having for their upcoming comeback. Drying off her hands after rinsing off the last of the dishes, she made her way over slowly to him, sitting down next to him. She carefully observed his face, eyes closed and body slumped to the side. One of her hands reached out to push some of the hair away from his face. He stirred slightly.

"Bad day?"

He only mumbled out a groan. Running a hand across his cheek, she leaned in and placed tiny, innocent kisses across his jaw. Letting out a sigh, Jongho tilted his head to allow her easier access to place kisses on his neck.

"My poor baby. Anything I can do to make you feel better?"

Jongho thought for a moment about her offer, nothing really coming to his head. Until she began kissing at his neck mole, which he was particularly sensitive in. Then an idea popped in his head. Grabbing her wrist, he startled her when he suddenly sat up and stared at her with fearsome intensity.

"Bedroom. Now."

Gulping slightly, she quickly nodded and got up to make her way to their bedroom, Jongho tailing right behind her. She walked like a puppy with a tail tucked in between its legs. She had done nothing wrong, but just seeing Jongho stressed and angry made her feel fearful of what was in store for her.......

But it also aroused her intensely, especially knowing that her boyfriend would get rougher than usual with her, which she loved. Standing at the foot of the bed, she slowly turned back around to him and awaited instructions. His dark orbs looked her up and down, desire filled in them. Coming closer towards her, his hands lightly caressed her shoulders, that action alone sent shivers down her spine. He gave her a sweet and gentle smile as his hands traveled down and placed themselves on her chest, slightly groping her covered breasts.

Then a harsh ripping sound was heard as he tore through her shirt and even managed to snap part of her bra. Y/N let out a loud gasp as she was left topless in less than 10 seconds by his brute force. Feeling self conscious, she tried to cover her chest, but Jongho effortlessly grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms above her head with one of his hands.

"I'm having none of that sweetheart. I'm in desperate need of your body."

Nearly busting the zipper and button, Jongho roughly slid her jeans down her legs, her underwear coming off along with them. The thin, barely visible line of her growing arousal stringing out from her core to her panties made him chuckle amusedly.

"Glad to know I'm not the only one who's already enjoying this."

Coming up to her, he snaked an arm around her waist, toned and muscled body pressing against her smaller and more delicate one. With his thumb tracing the outline of her lips, he was unable to keep himself from biting down on his own lip, a strong blissful sigh exhaling through his nose.

"You're so beautiful."

He couldn't contain himself as he cupped her chin and pressed his lips against hers, capturing them in a heart fluttering kiss. It was sloppy and desperate, but she didn't mind. She just let herself melt into the kiss and parted her lips to allow him access inside her mouth. Through teeth clashing and deep strokes of his wet muscle in her tongue, he brought one hand down to her neck, lightly wrapping it around it, fingers grazing the side of her skin. Without breaking their passionate kiss, he turned her so she had her back pressed to his chest. His other hand wrapped across her waist, reaching up to cup one of her tender breasts. He held it in his hand and then began squeezing at it. Using his thumb and index finger, he toyed with her tiny nipple, pinching at it before smacking his hand across it, her whimpers being drowned out into his mouth.

Once he got his fill of groping at her bosoms, he brought his hand down to cup her mound. His fingers barely grazed at her clit, yet she was already feeling her knees weak, which did not go unnoticed by him. He couldn't contain the smirk tugged on his lips when he pressed 3 fingers against her clit and began moving it around.

"Like that baby? Like it when I play with your little clit like this?"

She couldn't resist throwing her head back, letting it rest against his shoulder as she released guttural sounds when he sped up his movements. His mouth latched onto her neck, placing wet kisses along the sides of it and across her shoulder. At times his teeth would sink down until he left a red print on it, not satisfied until he was certain it'd leave marks for the days to come. As he was doing this, his hand kept busy as it rubbed at her clit furiously and in a continuous motion that would have her leaking in any minute. He knew her body better than she did, with the way her breathe turned raspy and ragged, how her thighs began to clench together, he knew she was about to combust at any second.

Feeling a little more on the sadistic side, he slid his free hand back to her neck, this time clutching it tightly so her oxygen intake was limited. She tried to gasp, but it was cut short and in her blurry haze, she felt her legs go wobbly as her orgasm flooded down her body. Her juices spilled all over his fingers which he generously collected in them before pulling them off her and sucked them into his mouth. Y/N blushed at the pornographic image her boyfriend just gave her, hands flying over to cover her face in embarrassment.

Chuckling darkly, Jongho went over to the closet and took out a rope that was hidden in the back. Grabbing her hands and pulling them off her face, he fastened the rope around them, binding them together before tossing what was leftover over the canopy railing above the bed. Once it went over it, he pulled the hanging rope back over and made a knot once more, testing it to make sure it wouldn't come loose at all. He was satisfied when he saw his girlfriend with her hands bound and raised over her head, unable to move them down at all.

"You know, you look really pretty like this. All bound and at my mercy.......unable to stop me from doing what I want."

Giving her a cheeky grin, he dropped down to his knees, face right in front of her still leaking pussy.

"And right now, I want to eat you out."

Spreading her legs to make room for him, he stared up at her with a smile as he lowered his head down in between her thighs. She held her breath as she watched him glide his tongue up her slit, teasing her by gliding it back down before he could touch her glistening clit. He kept at his torturous movement of licking slowly at her folds, making sure not to press anywhere near where she wanted him the most. This was very frustrating to her, making her tug harshly at the rope that was holding her arms up at the moment. She tried shifting her hips so Jongho's tongue could graze even just a mere inch close to her aching nub, but he was quick to retract his mouth whenever she tried that. He could truly be a bothersome tease when he was in the mood.

"Jongho!" She whined at him, bottom lip poking out.

"What?" He mocked her tone as he began to give tiny kitten licks at her clit.

She let out a frustrated groan when he layed his tongue flat on her core, keeping it there for an instant before circling around her folds, not serving in anything but building up her frustration and sexual tension. Jongho would have been more than happy to give her what she wanted, but he wasn't going to make it easy.

"You gotta tell me what you want baby. What do you want me to do? Hmm? What does my baby want?" He cooed at her, blowing light air into her dripping hole.

Unable to take his relentless teasing anymore, she finally spoke out harshly:

"Jongho please! Just eat me out or fuck me! I wanna cum again!"

Finally getting her to speak out, he lifted one of her legs and placed it over his shoulder. Spreading her folds apart, he enveloped his lips on her nub and gave it a generous suck that sent waves up her spine. Humming occasionally to further her pleasure, he kept a pace of opening and closing his mouth over her clit, tongue poking out at intervals to swirl around it before suckling on it once again. His gaze never looked away from her face, always wanting to see how her eyebrows furrowed and eyes scrunched tight whenever he hit a particular nerve that helped bring her closer to the edge. Not only that, seeing her become a mess for him only worsened the problem that was growing inside his pants. And her taste was so addicting to him, he couldn't help but press more of his face onto her heat, practically smothering it with his mouth as he made lewd slurping sounds that accompanied his ravishing of her folds. Feeling her thigh tremble, he knew it was only a matter of time before she combusted all over his face......

But before that could happen, he released his hold on her thigh and pulled his mouth away from her nub, leaving the girl in front of him confused and slightly irritated. She was about to yell at him for the act he just pulled, but he quickly hushed her by kissing her softly, letting her taste some of the remnants of her arousal. Pulling back, he drew circles on her cheek with his thumb, noticing her frowning face.

"Why'd you do that for?" She demanded to know, still upset at being denied her second orgasm.

"Baby as much as I wanted to have your juices drip down my face, I really need to be inside you now."

Pulling his shirt over his head, Y/N couldn't look away from her boyfriend's large arms, the veins on the muscles of his biceps poking out. She always loved touching them, holding them, having them wrap around her body and envelope her in a warm hug. Her gaze then trailed down and eagerly watched him as he began slipping out of his sweatpants, his hard on slapping against his stomach, tip red and leaking precum, aching to be inside her walls and fuck her senseless.

Jongho stroked himself as he came back over to her. Not yet done with his teasing, he swiped the tip along her slit, letting her slick coat most of his length. Once getting his fill of that, he grabbed the back of her thighs and effortlessly picked them up to wrap them around his waist.

"Jongho are you sure about this?" Y/N asked him.

Raising an eyebrow at her, he scoffed.

"You don't think I can fuck you dumb in this position?"

She quickly shook her head.

"It's not that! I mean- you're probably tired from practice and maybe don't have enough energy to-"

She let out a loud shriek when he reached down and aligned himself at her opening, immediately sinking her down onto his length.

"Believe me, I'm not tired at all and I have a lot of energy to release still."

Not giving her time to adjust, he began to use his strength to bounce her on top of his cock. He began letting out mixtures of grunts and growls everytime he sank her back down on him, her velvet walls squeezing hard around him, making him forget all about his dreadful day.

"You feel so tight baby. And you have no idea how hot you look right now."

He couldn't help but flex his muscles as his fingers dug into the skin of her thighs, loving the way she reacted.

"Jongho!- please! Too much!" She pleaded, her body becoming overwhelmed by the brute force he was using to rock her body against his.

"Oh? Want me to stop then?" He tilted his head.

"No! Please don't!" She begged him, tears threatening to spill out from the corners of her eyes, whether it was out of fear he'd deny her orgasm once more or from the powerful and intense rapture she was feeling she did not know.

She just know she didn't want him to stop, and he knew that just as well, hence the smug smile plastered on his face.

"Of course you don't, cause you know you love it when I'm like this. Don't you?"

She let out an involuntary moaned out hum when he brought his face to her chest, lips kissing at her sternum.

"You love me using my strength against you. Is it cause it reminds you that I can break your tiny body in half? Is that it? Like being reminded that if I want to, I can pound your pussy sore and leave your legs limping for a week?"

With a determined look, he angled himself so his thrusts could hit deeper and harder inside her. Y/N couldn't contain the whimpering cries coming out of her mouth any longer. She wanted to hold onto her boyfriend's arms, but the restraints kept her from doing so. She felt her orgasm bubble up inside her, ready to crash out of her and have her collapsing on him.

"You gonna cum babygirl? Gonna cum all over my massive cock and make another mess?" He smirked against her sweaty neck.

If it wasn't for Jongho holding her up, she would have surely toppled onto the floor from the pulse shattering high that tore through her body. With choked out yells, she repeated Jongho's name over and over again, her voice sounding like music to his ears. He never once stopped the brutal pace he had set, his angles merely got a little less focused as he now sought to chase his own high, which came not long after her own. Through clenched teeth and hooded eyelids, he made sure to fill her up even after some of his cum came pouring out and trickled down their thighs.

Jongho was very careful at untying his lover, his fingers quickly undoing the knots and snapping the rope off the canopy and off Y/N's hands. Brushing some hair off her face, he smiled fondly at her tired figure, his arms still holding her up, not ready to let her go.

"You murdered me..." She struggled to find her voice, but managed to get her words out.

"Yeah you look like I did." He teased her.

Letting out a huff, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his chest. Petting her hair, he began walking towards the direction of the bathroom.

"Come on. How does a nice warm shower sound like to you?" He offered as he set her down on the sink counter, both of them wincing when he finally pulled out of her.

"I don't think I can use my legs." She clutched her stomach, face grimacing when she tried to move one of her legs.

"Lucky for you, I still have a lot of energy."

Wiggling his eyebrows at her, Y/N didn't catch onto his meaning until she looked down in between his legs and noticed what was poking up.

"Jongho?! Seriously!" Grabbing a nearby hand towel, she threw it straight at his laughing face.

"You said a nice warm shower." She reminded him.

"And you'll get it without hesitation."

Picking her up once again, he winked at her.

"Along with just a tiny quickie."

[inactiveaccount754]

part one (this), part two, part three, part four

links will be available as soon as i figure out how they work

It has finally arrived! the extremely overhyped mess that is my sh*tty writing.

now mind you, not only is this my first time writing for something other than dungeons and dragons in years; this was all also written between the hours of two to five in the morning. so despite my attempts to edit, expect typos, messy grammar and inconsistencies. i might not be giving myself enough credit here but that's for you to decide. after this synopsis, the story will begin.

_______________________________

Pin, was always a bit too interested in humans as far as others were concerned. but it had always served the borrower well. though even for a solitary creature, a couple years of being completely alone were beginning to get the better of her.

_______________________________

Please, your hurting me!

she jolted awake with a sharp gasp, her bright orange hair flying ahead of her as she put herself upright; the bright amber of her eyes peirced the darkness of the room as she stared with a dead look towards the wall parallel to her; tail frozen in place where it'd normally be flicking about. shaking her head with a groan she took a moment to slow her heart rate; and with a sigh she threw off the covers from the makeshift bed she sat awake on.

"damnit, what time is it?" she looked left across the room to the watch she had propped up against the wall. "shit, how do i read these again? the sun should be in the middle of the sky right?" she got up with the popping of joints, this was going to be a long day but she had work to do. as she stumbled across the room to get some clothes on, a harsh realization hit her. "Wait, it's getting cold; no no no! how many months has it been? this is the second autumn I've been here so... eighteen? fuck! I've got no supplies, no extra insulation... I'm dead! I'm fucking dead!" she groaned as she fell to her knees, clutching at her head in frustration. she couldn't help but just lay and stare into the ceiling for a minute. "ok, ok; i can get out of this! she usually leaves a quilt in her closet right? well it probably won't be there because of the cold..." Pin was referring to the human of the house; 'Jacqueline' she had always found the name odd; as she did with most humans. pressing off the floor with her hands; in one fluid motion using the momentum of her legs she jumped to her feet to grab her shirt and pants, deciding she would probably need her jacket; she grabbed that as well. lunging her way back towards the bed, she began to grab her supplies. "hook check. rope check. wingsuit... still broken. sword? never had to use it more than twice, but check."

moving into the outer layers of the walls, she was quick; there was no need to rush but she wasn't taking chances. making her way down toothpick stairs, she had some time to think. "ok, so; food... food shouldn't be a problem due to my... 'unique' situation. now to handle the cold i should be able to steal some matches and better yet some extra bedding!" bouncing off the second to last step, she arrived at her destination. with a few strides she was at the hole she had previously carved behind the leg of a nightstand. she didn't like being on the floor, but in a room like this it was her best option.

poking her head out and tossing her hook she made her way up the side of the nightstand. this wasn't the first time she'd seen this room at an angle like this, but it was an overwhelming experience none the less. it was a white walled room almost perfectly clean other than an overflowing rubbish bin filled with empty bottles of water and cans of pop. there was a bed, that ignoring the difference of scale, was probably twice the size of her own bed; across from that was a metal framed glass table on top of which was a laptop and an odd machine with a variety of fabrics attached to it. as awe inspiring as the sheer scale of everything was, she didn't feel there was time to admire it.

there was drop that spanned about thirty centimeters into an open drawer, she could easily make it with or without rolling. as her feet hit the floor she was immediately making way to claw up the walls of the drawer, this way she'd be close enough to the quilt that was unsurprising on the bed without making herself completely vulnerable. she now took advantage of her position to lift some of the quilt into the drawer so she could gather the insides of it.

it was a quick job, a few cuts here and there and she was done. she draped the fabric over her back and used a bit of rope to secure it and began climbing her way up the wall, she dived to the bed before climbing up the headboard; a simple jump would finish the most taxing part of her quest.

she pulled her hook out of wood the below her feet and with a quick dash she made her way to the back of the nightstand in preparation to begin climbing down. "come on, come on. you'll be fine, you should be able to do this easily! it's in your blood!" but no matter how she would try to hype herself up, as far as she was concerned the only blood she had was that of an imposter; before the events that took place on that fateful winter evening she had never borrowed a day in her life, and her psyche would never let her forget it.

"twenty one and you can barely make it a meter from the wall? what knid of pathetic excuse for a borrower are you. gods your worthless..." a sigh as deep as those last words cut left her. there was no point, she knew she never make it like this. she may as well give up. but hey, she still has a promise to keep; Problem is, there's only one way she'll live long enough to do so... and it's one hell of an gamble.

"one hour... then I'm doing it. I'm ending this."

_______________________________

huge thanks to @chasing-starlights and @narrans for encouraging this nonsense while i was struggling to write it! wouldn't of pulled it off without you two.

this chapter is definitely light on the g/t side of things and i feel like I was struggling to be consistent with the narration; but i suppose that's what happens when you try to do things at five in the morning.

[dragonherder2030]

Smaugust Day 9: Galaxy

I’m leaving tomorrow morning, my sister is going to look over the farm while I’m away. Echo Bel and Kory are coming with me, they can help with transportation and have separation anxiety. Xandra is showing me her camp, she has many followers, I’m going to be the first lizard to join it. That fact will be kept secret from the rest of the “humans” as to not cause hysteria, she has done the same with herself, hiding herself as an amphibian. I’m bringing my journal, I need to be able to write my thoughts

See you soon, Niki~

*we find out who the narrator is 👀. Another first person written segment, hopefully this one won’t be as long XD. Also, if by the end of Smaugust I feel there are some odd unintended plot holes or threads that need to be resolved I’ll make sure to do so. Ik it’s confusing right now, but I will continue right where we left off on the last writing segment for easiness*

Half my tea was gone in under a minute, it was jasmine green from what I tasted and was made very well.

“Please do explain what you mean by non-lizard kind though… Are you talking Amphibious sentience?” I ask, leaning back on the couch I had been placed on.

“No not sentient Amphibians that walk like us, I mean a species on another planet called Humans. They are a scaleless race with no tails, and can grow fur at an alarming rate. They can be dangerous to us, but not all of them. If you join me you can meet them, but many of them do not have the best interests of the dragons in mind.” Her creature tightened itself onto her neck. Has it experienced these “humans” before?

“Does that planet have dragons too? Also how do you, uh, go to another planet? Do you have access to a rocket?”

“No, I have something much better and easier to fuel… but you have to commit before learning of that. Keep your questions to a minimum till I finish explaining please, it will be easier.” Saying with a small hand wave. I nob in agreement.

“The planet is called earth and is very similar to ours. But dragons do not live naturally there, and have been brought there by a lizard who wanted a new environment for sport hunting, and didn’t get them all… They ended up breeding and creating homes for themselves, few and far apart. I used to monitor and catch some of the dragons to bring them back when I could along with my brother. When he passed I couldn’t do it by myself anymore, so I seeked the assistance of other lizards to return the dragons to their natural habitat. Not many believed me, and those who did I knew didn’t have the intentions of the animals in mind. So, I decided to start recruiting humans using my magic-“

“Wait wait wait, you have magic abilities?” I ask, needing to know more about this.

“Yes I possess magic, I’m no lizard, but we don’t need to know about that for now. All you need to know is that I can give objects the ability to transform a human into a lizard or amphibian sentient if worn, that’s what I can do,” Xandra says with a sigh. I speculate what she could be, and remember a legend about the creation of our world, something similar to that happening, where a being gave sentience to all of the lizards, and later some of the amphibians. There was another part of it where they wiped out a different race beforehand but I couldn’t remember it too well.

Xandra continued her explanation, “I chose humans because they would do the best capturing dragons in the human planet, since they are not killed on sight when seen… The humans I choose were specifically selected by my familiar, Davey here,” She pointed to the amphibian around her neck, it seemed to smile in admiration of its role.

“They are small enough to avoid detection from the humans, and not popular enough to be sought out, and they are very fast. Easily able to escape a human. I’ve gotten quite the following from animal lovers around earth, and luckily most of them speak English or know sign language, Davey doesn’t go far from our camp.”

“What do you guys Uh, do? Do you go to the human world and just, catch the dragons? And why don’t you just tell the humans that the dragons are an invasive species and, I guess take them back?” I ask, confused what I would actually be doing and why the humans are a problem.

Xandra’s calm demeanor shifted, and her eyebrows furrowed, “Most humans want the dragons, but I know they aren’t safe there. They would be hunted for sport and put in cages. I’ve watched them for thousands of years, they will never accept the dragons as any more then a fantasy creature for decoration. And for some reason now there are more being found, species that weren’t brought to earth from that initial leak. There’s another source, someone from this planet that has access to Earth and is exploiting it to bring dragons there. You can help me find them, and allow me to have more allies on this side. Plus the place I’m keeping the dragons isn’t safe anymore, I need somewhere here I can put them with someone to take care of them.” Her voice had raised slightly, this is a subject she is angry about. She must have witness terrible things. I think it’s an amazing idea, I have the whole farm I could keep the dragons. Acres of land I’m not using right now could be put to this. I didn’t care if she was legit or not, I believed her.

“Ok, I’m convinced… I want to help. I have a farm that can serve as a holding place for the dragons until we can bring them to their rightful places,” I say, trying to hide the excitement in my voice. She smiles at me, looking satisfied.

“My camp, it is all humans, they do not know of our reptilian existence, to them they are the last of the reptile kind. So to them, your just another new human recruit. That means,” Xandra gets up, walking towards the closet I had noticed before, “that means that you have to pick out an accessory to simulate the effect of you being a fake lizard.”

I stand up and walk to the closet as well. Xandra escapes into the inside of it, I follow closely. The inside wasn’t meant to hold more then one person, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Along the walls is an array of shirts, jackets, pants, hats, bracelets, necklaces, etc. in every color imaginable.

“Take your pick, it doesn’t matter what it is, other then u will need to be able to wear it for long amounts of time,” she says, picking up a hat and dusting it off, then hanging it back up.

I look around the room, spinning in place, then think of something, “Do you have a piece? How do you hide that your not a lizard?”

She thinks for moment, “Davey helps me with that too, as you know they are my familiar, and they aren’t just any normal dragon either. They become a wonderful necklace whenever I need them to. And when I wear that, I become what they would be if they were a sentient Amphibian,” she explained to me. So far she has shown me no proof of the magic she claims to have, and this seems like a simple test. Even if I was all for the cause, no reason not to speculate.

“Could u show me?”

“Of course,” Xandra said, glancing at Davey. The creature climbed to the front of her neck, then sitting still right there for a few seconds. I await the transformation. Then, they stiffen and fall loose, a small chain connecting to their mouth and tail holding them onto Xandra’s neck. Her body poofs into one of an sentient Olm, her body much longer then previously. I stare up at her in awe, it all must be true.

“Wow…” I say, stunned by the display. She smiles down at me and quickly exits the closet, since she had taken up most the room.

“I need to show u our transportation tomorrow, since it is getting late. You will be seeing the camp, and meeting the members. You may stay for a couple of days to get familiar with them,” she says, looking out the window. I understand her reasoning, my sister can watch over the farm while I’m gone, I’ll be returning there soon with suitable dragons.

I return to looking at the room and behind a puffy jacket is a bronze glimmer. I walk towards it and grab it, it’s a tail ring. A dragon spiraling around a few times. And it’s adjustable, I try it on, tightening it to my liking. I decide it would be to heavy to stay on, and I don’t really like these kinds of jewelry. Placing it back in it’s spot, I try on a few other things, including a puffy jacket(after taking my shoulder armor off), a muzzle, and a necklace with an odd diamond like pendant on it. Then another thing caught my eye, a blue bandana with a cool looking pattern on it. I tie it around my neck, I think this one will work very well.

Exiting the room I look around for Xandra, spotting her on the couch reading a book. Davey was wrapped around her wrist and she was back in her original state.

“I have chosen this bandana!” I announce, walking towards her. She looks up from her reading and smiles brightly.

“Oh wonderful sweet pea, I only ask one more question of you before you go home to rest up for tomorrow,” she says, putting her book down.

“What’s that?” I ask, holding my shoulder armor tightly.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh- oh yeah you don’t know me very well yet. I’m Niki,” I say with a smile. She smiles back at me.

“Thank you hun. One more thing though, if you have any drakes I would recommend you bring them with you, they would help with the travel aspect. Tomorrow won’t be a walk in the park,” she says, picking her book back up. I nod, looking to my left and realizing the door is right next to the couch. I mentally scorn myself for not realizing this sooner, and exit the house. I know these woods, and have seen this cottage before. It looks worn down on the outside, abandoned… but making my way home is easy. It was evening by the time I made it back.

I call my sister, “Hi Bryn, I need you to watch the farm for a few days.”

—————————

This was fun, writing wasn’t the best, I was kinda zoned out while writing it lol. My main focus was to explain stuff and set up character motivations, sorry if it’s a bit messy, and like, long dang.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

MerMay 2021 Day One Beach House

This area of the beach was private, with cabins for rent dotting the shoreline. It was a great place for families to visit in the summer, but right now, in the midst of winter when the coastal air had a bite to it, almost all the houses were empty.

Some ways away, a dirt road branched off the main road, branching out into smaller paths that all eventually ended at one of the houses. A car was driving down one of those smaller paths, making its way towards one of the smaller cabins for rent. The moment it reached the end and parked, a back door opened, and two kids immediately jumped out. Or more accurately, a girl jumped out, pulling her twin brother along with her.

The driver’s side door opened, and out stepped the kids’ mom, a woman with dark brown hair. “Sereia! Muirin! Slow down!”

“Sorry Mom!” The girl—Sereia—called. “We’re going swimming!”

“No, she’s right, slow down! Stop pulling me!” The boy—Muirin—tried to brace himself against the sand, but couldn’t get enough traction.

“C’mon, aren’t you excited? I am!” Sereia’s tone certainly matched her words. “It’s been weeks since we saw him!”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to dive right into cold water and get my clothes all wet.” Muirin finally managed to pull his hand away. “Besides, we don’t even know if he’ll be here yet. Or if our directions were good enough.”

Sereia shook her head and made a tutting sound. “Man, you’re so boring, Muir.”

“Hey, I’m being smart!”

“Smart and boring.”

Their mom finally caught up to them, a bag slung over her shoulder. “Muirin’s right, we don’t know if your dad will be here yet,” she said. “And I’d like to get familiar with the washers and dryers in the house before we have to use them. Could we at least move all the bags inside and change into our swimsuits? I have them right here.”

Sereia groaned, but relented. “Fine. I’ll move in at record speed, just you watch.”

“Soooo we get our own bedrooms, right?” Muirin asked. “Is it, like first come first served?” Without waiting for an answer, he broke into a run, heading straight back to the car.

“Wh—Hey, no fair!” Sereia turned around and sprinted to catch up. “Cheater!”

Their mom laughed, which soon faded away into a sigh. She looked out over the ocean, extending endlessly to the horizon. Water reflected the sky, blue and dotted with clouds as the sun shone brightly. This was good weather for winter. Hopefully it would stay that way. She smiled, and turned to go inside the cabin.

It took an hour and a half for the family to get everything set up in the rental cabin. Sereia and Muirin ended up satisfied with the rooms they’d claimed, and their mom was content with the last remaining room. They’d bought groceries in the nearby town, which were now stocked in the cabin’s kitchen. All luggage had been unpacked and their contents moved to the appropriate rooms. And now, the kids were finally ready to go swimming.

“Muirin! Look at my swimsuit!” Sereia did a little twirl out on the sand.

“Yeah, I saw you pick it out when we were shopping,” Muirin said. “Why?”

“Well, it’s yellow,” Sereia explained. “It’ll match my...” She glanced around conspiratorially, though the beach was empty for miles. “...tail,” she finished in a whisper.

“There is literally no one here to hear you say that.”

Sereia rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. Anyway you should’ve chosen a black swimshirt to match yours, not blue. And why do you have a hole in the back?”

“Well, I have a fin that pops out there! It feels weird when it’s under the shirt.” Muirin shook his head. As the two of them approached the waves he raised his hand to his eyes to block out the sun, and then scanned the ocean. “I don’t see anything.”

“Well, let’s actually get in the water and head out deeper,” Sereia suggested. “Because I mean, it’ll be easier for swimming.”

The waves lapped gently at the shore, advancing and retreating as all waves do. Sereia hesitated for a moment, then walked right in up to her knees. Muirin paused for longer, then put one foot in, yelped, and hopped back out. “It’s cold!”

Sereia turned around and put her hands on her hips. “Well we have to go underwater for it to work. It’ll be easier if you just did it all at once.”

“Hey, let him take it at his own pace, you can’t rush things like this.”

Sereia and Muirin gasped in unison upon hearing that voice, and Sereia turned back around to face the ocean. There! Some ways away, there was a man swimming in the water. Just his head and shoulders were sticking out, but he raised a hand to wave at the kids. Even with his wet brown hair mostly hidden under an old, faded cap, the resemblance to the kids could still be seen.

“Dad!” Sereia ran through the water, diving right at the man as soon as she got close enough. Knocking him down, there was a flash of orange as a fish’s tail flailed out of the water before both of them went under. A few seconds later, the orange tail waved in the air again, this time joined by a smaller gold-and-white one.

“Hey! Guys!” Muirin took a deep breath, then also ran into the water, but he stopped once it reached waist height. “Ohhhhh cold cold cold,” he hissed.

The kids’ mom left the house, carrying a folding chair with her. “Hey Muirin,” she waved as she set up the chair at the edge of the wetter part of the beach, just out of reach of the waves. “Where’s your sister?”

At that moment, two heads popped back out of the water, chattering. Sereia now had a stripe of golden scales running down the left side of her face, and white fins on the side of her head, sticking out from behind her ears. In fact, on second glance, the man had fins in the same place as well, though orange and slightly different shapes. Sereia looked back towards the shore. “Hi Mom!” She waved. “Look! Dad’s here!”

“I can see that. Hi Chase.”

“Hi, Stacy,” Chase waved, blushing a bit. “Am I late? I was checking all the houses.”

“No, you’re just on time,” Stacy laughed. “We just got finished setting up.”

“It’s, like, a really nice house, Dad,” Sereia said. “It’s so big! Not like a hotel room at all, it’s like...a house.”

“Well, that’s exactly what it is,” Muirin said. “Hi Dad! Hang on, let me just...” He looked down at the water, and taking a deep breath, walked forward until his chest reached the water, then ducked down under. He resurfaced next to Chase and Sereia, now with yellow fins on his head. “Wow. I’m...suddenly not cold,” he said. “That’s cool.”

“Guess you guys’s body temperatures must adjust automatically,” Chase said, ruffling Muirin’s wet hair. “How’ve you been, shellies?”

“We’ve been pretty good!” Sereia said. “We’re on winter break now! Did Mom tell you?”

“Yes, of course she did.” Chase waved at Stacy again, who was now sitting in the folding chair. “That’s the whole reason you’re coming out here, after all.”

Stacy waved back. “A whole three weeks this year, the schools are really stepping it up. It is a really nice house, Chase. You’d probably like it if you saw it.”

“Oh!” Muirin gasped. “Ser, we brought a cooler with us, a big one. What if we filled it up with water and—”

“You mean like Mabel did in Gravity Falls?”

“Yeah! And we could just like carry it around and give Dad a tour—”

“I appreciate the thought, Muir, but I think that would be pretty heavy,” Chase said, smiling a bit sadly. “Don’t know if any of you are up for it.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Chase,” Stacy called. “Part of working at an aquarium includes moving heavy tank features like rocks, not to mention sometimes the tanks themselves.”

Chase laughed. “Okay, okay, point taken. Still, I’m fine. You guys can show me pictures later.”

“Okay, yeah yeah yeah.” Sereia was practically vibrating. “Dad, can we go out exploring a bit? Pleeeease?”

“Hmm...well, you should probably get familiar with the area, above and underwater.” Chase made a small chittering sound, thinking it over. “Well, if your mom’s okay with it.” He looked over towards her

“Just stay close enough to them,” Stacy said, “and make sure you’re back soon. An hour, maybe?”

“Yes!” Sereia pumped her fist, causing a splash of water. “Muir, are you coming?”

“Hey, of course I am!” Muirin said. “Don’t say it like I wouldn’t want to.”

“Well you’re always Mr. Cautious Pants, you know?”

“Yeah, but this’ll be fine, and I wanna be with Dad for a bit, too.”

“Nice to hear that, shelly,” Chase chuckled. “Alright, Stacy, we’ll be back!”

“Have fun!” Stacy waved, watching as the three of them disappeared beneath the water’s surface. Leaning back in her chair, she took a book out of her purse and settled in for a wait. One of these days she’ll need to rent a scuba outfit for the occasion. Maybe she should have borrowed one from work and dealt with the penalty later.

The sun moved through the sky. The kids and Chase returned soon, and the family spent another hour together before Stacy declared it almost time for dinner. The kids climbed out of the water and waved goodbye to Chase as he disappeared back into the ocean.

He would be back tomorrow. And if not then, the day after. After all, they had a lot of time they could spend together over the next three weeks. The kids, Stacy, and Chase were all looking forward to it.

[notchesandbullets]

Loyalty and Love (Police Officer!Jae-ha x Shy!Reader x Military Officer!Kija)

Warning: harassment

Words: 2.4k

"Come on, girlie, gimmie a smile!"

You were getting harassed by this guy who would not get a clue, letting hair fall into your face as you increased your walking speed. But he was persistent and chased you through the streets of traffic. Your trembling hands fumbled with your phone, trying desperately to press the speed dial for one of your two partners to come and save you when it slipped through your fingers.

The screen shattered upon impact with the concrete and cold dread set in the pit of your stomach as alcohol-laced breath panted against your neck.

Scrambling away, you tried to employ what Jae-ha had taught you to do in a situation like this, but the man overpowered you easily, twisting your wrist as you went to jab him in the eyes. His eyes narrowed and he sneered at you.

You shied away from him as he stuck his face close to yours, silent but clearly terrified. No matter how much you struggled, he pinned your wrists above your head, avoiding your poorly-aimed kicks to his groin to get him off of you.

Then, all of the sudden, the pressure was gone.

A stream of white hair crossed your vision and your eyes widened in shock.

Kija scoffed in disgust as he shoved the man off of you, lip curling back in a snarl. "Refrain from touching her if you desire to keep your head attached to your shoulders."

He acted as a wall between you and him, hands planted firmly on his hips as his broad shoulders blocked you from his view.

You fell back with a squeak as another hand tugged your wrist and you twisted to look up at your rescuer. Mouth dropping in astonishment, you exclaimed, "Jae-ha?!"

His beautiful, violet eyes had gone black with fury and his jaw was clenched as he tried to hold himself back from losing his temper in front of you.

The thing was, neither one of them were supposed to be here. Jae-ha had patrol on the opposite side of the city and Kija was supposed to be out of town until this weekend. How they managed to get there so fast was beyond you, but you were incredibly grateful they arrived when they did.

On the flip side, you had never seen either of them this livid before.

If you were the man, you would've done the smart thing and fled the scene, but no. He just had to take it a step further despite the fuming men beside you.

"Police!!" The creep shouted, face beet red with embarrassment and rage, waving his arms to catch the attention of the patrol car that had just pulled up to the curb. "These men are harassing my girlfriend and they're drunk!! They need to be arrested for being intoxicated in public!!"

You physically recoiled at the false mention of being this bastard's girlfriend and clearly your boyfriends didn't appreciate that. By now, your situation had gathered quite a crowd, and everyone was watching and waiting to see what the officers would do.

Two figures exited the police car, one especially tall with dark hair and the other just as intimidating despite being a bit smaller in stature than his partner.

They approached slowly but purposefully, striding forward until they were directly in front of him. Towering over him, the dark-haired man drawled, "Your girlfriend?"

The man nodded curtly, assuming that any suspicions would be let go now that he had clarified his claim, but he was so wrong.

The officer's partner lowered his sunglasses, revealing piercing golden eyes slitted with blatant hatred. The drunk stumbled back at the malice, eyes beginning to dart warily around as he started to get a clue.

The crowd started to murmur amongst themselves, and nearly missed the cocky grin the taller officer flashed. A small piece of metal glinted on his chest as he stepped into the sun, and it read, "Officer Hak".

Hak grinned with way too much confidence for it simply to be a coincidence. "What do you say, Shin-ah? Should we let him go and escort the lady home?"

His partner raised his chin, pointing soundlessly towards the green-haired man still standing behind you.

"Ask the boss." He said quietly, but with an air of authority that left no room for questioning.

The man's face went pale as he followed their stare behind him and it finally sunk in.

Any trace of usual amusement was gone as Jae-ha lifted up the hem of his shirt, revealing his badge and gun strapped to his hip.

"You see," Hak began, circling the man like a vulture, smirking deviously. "That girl is well known around this area. She's a close friend of mine, and you went and pissed off her boyfriends, who are already as overprotective as hell."

"Jae-ha's a lieutenant in our district." Shin-ah continued quietly but steadily, mouth pressed in a hard line. "And Kija serves in the military that protects your rights and freedoms. The amount of nerve you have to claim that she's yours is pathetic. We should arrest you."

Floundering for a feasible reason to cover his ass from these infuriated cops and coming up empty, the pathetic excuse for a human being scampered off with his tail tucked in between his legs.

With him finally gone, you let out the breath you didn't know you had been holding, squeezing Jae-ha's hand in thanks for his support. He gazed down at you in concern, violet eyes darkening to black when he saw the bruises forming on your wrists from where he had pinned you. Kija followed his gaze, and his clenched fists nearly tore his uniform.

"Thank you both." You bowed gratefully, unaware of the storm brewing from your partners. "I'm so sorry for the trouble."

Hak saluted in such a ridiculous way that had you giggling.

"No trouble at all." He reassured you easily. "It is our job after all. Are you sure you'll be alright?"

You nodded, glancing up at Kija, who had drifted close to your unoccupied side.

Shin-ah stepped forward. "Come down to the station later and we'll take a statement."

You dipped your head again to show you understood but blinked your eyes in shock when Jae-ha shook his head firmly.

"She's not going anywhere for the rest of the day." He stated firmly, shooting you a sharp look when you started to suggest that they should let it go. "Up the patrol. Find him."

Shin-ah and Hak bowed obediently, zipping off down the street and just like that, everyone else went about their day. Amidst the bustling city, you were left in your own bubble with Kija and Jae-ha.

You played with your fingers nervously, unsure of what to do as the red auras surrounding your usually gentle and loving boyfriends increased.

"Can... Can we go home?" You asked anxiously, scolding yourself for how timid it came out.

They nodded automatically. Jae-ha's hand landed on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd and Kija took your hand, practically bulldozing his way through. You ducked your head shyly, biting your lip at how much attention they were drawing but you couldn't help how safe that made you feel after this morning's episode.

Kija scooped you up the instant Jae-ha pulled up to your townhome, carrying you through the threshold without hesitation despite your many soft objections that you were too heavy.

Pressing a sweet peck to the crown of your head, he set you down on the sofa, arranging a fluffy blanket over your shaking form. "Wait here for a moment, Y/N."

A desperate cry tore from your throat as they stepped towards your shared bedroom, reaching out for them instinctively before pulling back abruptly, cheeks coloring in shame.

Jae-ha dropped down to his knees, by your side in a split second. His gaze was trained on the way you were clutching your hands to your chest, recognizing what you needed automatically.

"C'mere, sweetheart." He murmured softly, gathering you up in his arms. "I've got you."

He gave Kija the go-ahead to grab what he needed from the bathroom as he ran his long fingers through your hair soothingly.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the calming motion, head thumping on his chest as you lost the strength to keep it up by yourself. His chest rumbled against your ear as he hummed one of your favorite songs.

You had met him at university, sitting in the corner of the library with earbuds stuck in his ears. Back then, you remembered there were rumors about how he used to get around. Partying, doing drugs, everything your parents told you to stay away from, but you didn't stay away from him. Intrigued by what he was listening to that had the playboy so focused, you tapped on his shoulder in a moment of bravery, catching his attention just long enough to shyly relay your curious question.

From there, a friendship sparked until it developed into something deeper than either of you could control.

And the only reason why you refused to be with him after you both graduated was because of Kija.

He had caught your interest from the get-go the second you spotted him in your anthropology lecture. The disgust on his beautiful face as the professor showed a descriptive diagram of insects on the board was hilarious and you burst out laughing in the middle of his teaching. After you apologized, you were thoroughly embarrassed and wished that you could crawl in a hole and die.

But your little display caught his attention and he approached you after class with the promise of taking you out to lunch the following day as long as you agreed to help him get through the lectures by sitting next to him.

You readily agreed to his proposal, but you couldn't squander the guilt you felt as you started to split your time between the handsome, green-haired playboy and the elegant, white-haired study buddy. It didn't make any sense to feel ashamed since you weren't with either one of them, but your feelings for both was what put it in perspective and in a last ditch attempt to get over the silly crush, you cut off contact.

Ending your friendship. Or so you thought.

The pounding on the door of your apartment woke you up at 2 am, and as soon as you opened it, in stumbled your drunk friends. Things only escalated from there. Feelings were revealed in the heat of an argument and you were speechless.

Never in a million years did you think that both of them would be harboring strong feelings for you, and even though you wanted them that night just as bad as they obviously wanted you, the three of you decided to wait until they were completely sober.

All of your insecurities the next morning were washed away as the smell of bacon and buttered toast wafted through your apartment. Kija was cooking and Jae-ha was in the middle of setting the table when you walked in, and their heads shot up when you promptly burst into tears.

You confessed that you thought it was all a dream, or that you would wake up and they would be gone. They embraced you tightly, professing their love for you once more before sealing it with a sweet kiss from a blushing Kija and a searing hot one from a smirking Jae-ha.

Now, years later, here you were. Still considering them your safe place.

Kija returned with a roll of gauze and bowl of cold water. "Y/N, let me see please."

Extending your arms timidly, you glanced up at Jae-ha, who shifted you slightly so that your back was pressed against his firm chest. He kissed the top of your head encouragingly and you bit your lip as your other partner cleaned and bandaged the bruised area.

Frowning deeply at the discoloration, Kija's jaw locked with the restraint of holding himself back from walking out the front door to find and end the creep who had dared to touch you.

"Hey... I'm okay..." You whispered quietly, offering up a reassuring smile. "My heroes came just in time."

And just like that, the dark atmosphere became bright, lighting up only at your unintentional command and the two men chuckled.

Jae-ha brushed back your hair, giving Kija room to peck your temple. His smile was slight, but filled with amusement as his rage started to simmer down. "We're glad you're alright, sweetheart."

Kija lifted your hand gently, kissing your knuckles, eyes brimming with love as they landed on yours. "We'll take care of you, Y/N. We'll keep you safe."

Leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. "I know..." You breathed. "Thank you."

He gave you an eskimo kiss that had you giggling, and the sound warmed his heart. You hopped up to your feet, announcing quietly that you were going to go change into some pjs and the two of them let you go. But as his gaze found Jae-ha's, his blue eyes darkened.

They had made friends. Powerful people who happened to owe them a favor. Not that they needed that excuse to go after that man.

Yoon would be the first they would call. An analyst and a skilled strategist. He fooled everybody with his age, and Jae-ha was the first never to underestimate him, earning the pretty boy genius' loyalty for life. He would know what to take care of first.

Zeno usually hung around the poorer parts of town, helping anyone in any way that he could. The spunky and energetic golden-haired boy had a ton of connections, and would make sure they had eyes on the operation the whole time.

Grabbing his phone as it vibrated, Jae-ha barely had to look at it to know who it was. "Hak already contacted me. They found him."

Kija narrowed his eyes. "Then let's go."

They called Yona to come over and keep you company until they finished exacting their revenge.

No matter what, they would protect you. Even if it meant diverting every resource they had at their fingertips to ensure it. You were their entire world.

There was no way anyone would get away with treating you less than that. You deserved better, and damn it, they were going to teach this bastard a lesson.

They would let him live. But just barely.

[ladywaynebr]

Love at Chance - CH 02

Chapter 02: Jump and Pumps!

Word Count: 1.6 k

Warnings: None yet, just someone coming out from under the stone.

Summary: Dog, a gift and a super attentive mother.

Author’s Note: This is my first story in English, you will certainly notice. I hope you like it and forgive any mistakes.

Chapter 01 Link

NOTE: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

Thank you for reading! Whoever wants to be marked in the chapters leave a request in the comments. If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. THANK YOU!  

My day at the office was terrible, my share of arrogant clients is reaching its limit. I just don't throw it all away because the bills don't pay themselves and I like the little luxuries that my salary provides. One of them is the wine I'm drinking. Delicious, full-bodied, with a slight oak aroma. If this wine were a man, I would literally be on my knees for him. After all, the ideal would be a good wine and a hot night with some hot guy. But the resolution I made on my last birthday, prevents me from going to a bar and meeting someone. My new self doesn't spend time with imbeciles. I was tired of booty calls and all those fuck boys. I want someone to stay, someone I can trust.

I was dozing on the couch when I heard the barking from the apartment next door. I ended up discovering that the condominium allows animals, I went to make a complaint with the administration, I left there, embarrassed. The new neighbor and the dog, have been here for almost a month. They spent a few weeks away, and returned a few days ago. He still hasn't fixed my door.

I slept too much, it was certainly the wine. Late for work I left without having breakfast and finishing my makeup in the elevator mirror. They are renovating the parking lot of the building, we residents have to leave our cars near the leisure yard. Last night it rained, which makes the floor slippery and the enemy of high heels. I was walking slowly despite the rush. My cell phone started ringing like crazy in my purse, my boss must be furious with my delay. I answered without looking at who it was.

- Sorry, I'm on my way!

- What?

- Mom, I thought I was someone else. I'm late for work, I can't talk now.

- I just want to confirm our dinner today, I will cook for you. - She increased her tone of voice, my mother thinks that speaking out loud is more agile.

- Yes, but I don't have much in the fridge. - I'm basically living on frozen food.

- Don't worry, I'll stop by the grocery store. - Said the loud voice.

- Okay, see you later!

Hanging up, I stopped for a few moments to put my phone in my  purse.

- Dodger, no! - The male voice roared.

The pile of hair leapt over me again, with its paws against my belly.

- Jesus! - I screamed.

The dog's paws are wet and dirty with sand from the yard. That combination created an abstract art on my silk blouse. I felt my face tremble with rage, the animal stopped in front of me with his tongue hanging out and the tail swaying.

- Please, forgive me! - His owner approached, wearing a blue sweater and Patriots cap. - I don't know what happened to him, Dodger is not to go around jumping on people.

- I find it hard to believe. This is the second time he attacks me, use a collar or something. - The damage to my shirt was great.

-He's wearing it, but when he saw you, he let go of my hands and ran towards you. - The man is also confused. - I don't understand, he's not like that.

- Your dog must hate me. - I turned around, I need to change.

I heard his footsteps behind me. In an attempt to hurry and stay away from them, I stepped up.  

- Be careful, the floor is slippery and your heels are not the most suitable shoes. - He warned me gently.

It just made me more nervous.

- If you were able to control your dog, I wouldn't need to be running. I'm late for work. - I said annoyed.

- It was an accident, I already apologized. - He's still after me. - What is your size, I'll buy you another shirt.

We arrived at the entrance to the building, stopping and I looked at him.

- The same way you fix my door? - His cheeks were flushed. I confess I didn't expect that reaction, I found it a little charming.

- I forgot, I've been traveling for work and with so many things happening. I'm sorry again, I'll take care of everything. - His tone embarrassed.

He disarmed me, I don't like to embarrass people.

- Don't worry, just make sure Dodger stops jumping on me. - Hearing his name, the dog wagged its tail.

- I think he likes you. - He said with a smile.

I just nodded, shooting for the elevator. Impossible for that dog to like me, I barely know him.

When I got home I came across a new door installed and my mom in the kitchen.

- Good night mom.

- Hi darling. - She smiled while chopping carrots.

- Who installed the door?

- Some men, I was entering when they arrived. - She said. - What caused that hole?

- I'm not sure. - I lied, putting my bag on the counter. - The smell is great.

- It is your favorite, go take your bath soon it will be served.

- Right!

- I was forgetting, the mysterious gift is in your bed. - She smiled excitedly.

- What a gift?

- A delivery boy brought a beautiful Prada box. With a card!

Jesus, he kept his promise. I shot into the room.

After the shower, I picked up the box and the card, which I opened first. The message was handwritten.

“I hope I got the size right. This is an apology from Dodger and me.

C.E "

A kind and polite gesture on his part. I opened the box and got a surprise. He didn't buy me another blouse, which wasn't even a designer, but a beautiful flowered dress with a blue background. He got the size right, I'm not tall and I have my curves and volumes. What drove that man to do that, to buy me such an expensive apology gift.

- What did you win? - My mother curious as soon as I sat at the table.

- Something I will return. - I answered. - I can't accept it's inappropriate.

- Don't tell me it's your boss, that asshole is trying to get into your pants again. - She was annoyed.

- No mother. Daniel never approached me again after I threatened to tell his wife. - I regret telling her. My mother can't forget - The gift is from someone else, but because we don't know each other very well, I can't accept it.

- It does well, you are a Christian girl and should not be accepting gifts around. - She took my hand to pray.

She will spend the night here I don't like that she travels by car at night. While Mom chose a movie, I washed the dishes and made popcorn. I hope she doesn't choose anything biblical.

- Did you put butter?

I settled on the couch next to her.

- No, your cholesterol needs to be under control. - She made a face. - What is the movie?

- One with Captain American, he will rescue some people in danger. - She said picking up some popcorn.

A few minutes of the film passed and I was shocked.

- Jesus! It's him! - I screamed.

- He who?

- My neighbor. - I went back to the scene, pausing on his face. - He has long hair, but it's him.

- Chris Evans is your neighbor, how did you let that pass “y / n”?

So that's why he signed the card with the initials.

- I do not follow the world of Hollywood and celebrities. - He certainly realized that I didn't recognize him. - I thought I recognized him from somewhere, but I didn't associate with any of that. After all, what does a star living in this condo?

- I don't know about that, but it's proof that you need to stop working so hard. You are becoming isolated from the world, even the church ladies are able to recognize this man.

- What a small world. - I mumbled looking at the screen.

- Is he handsome like on TV? - She asked curiously. - For a white boy, of course.

If I say I didn't realize it is a lie.

- Yes, actually even more beautiful. - She laughed.

We went back to watching the movie, which took on another meaning for me.

[dancingboba]

Promise

Request from @shondideaira-blog (thank you for sending this, sorry it took a while, but hope you enjoy it!). A one-shot where instead of Mona, Ellie got shot by Jason at the final chapters of the book.

Colt x MC

Warnings: Angst, Gunshot, Swearing

Wordcount: 2166

Summary: Ellie gets shot and Colt goes through a whirlwind of emotions.

He moved the same time as Mona did, leaping from his position and willing his legs to pick up as much as speed as humanly possible to get to her.

It all happened within a span of a few seconds as Mona tackled Jason from the side and knocked him onto the ground. The stretch of distance between him and her, all of a sudden, felt like miles longer and everything played out in slow motion in front of his eyes as Jason wrestled his arm away from Mona and hooked a finger around the trigger, squeezing a deafening bang that made his heart stop.

He swore he could even see the bullet shooting out from the barrel, its cone-shaped head slicing and whizzing through the air before it pierced through her skin and flesh. 

“Ellie!”

This can’t be fucking happening. 

The universe couldn’t possibly be this unfair and cruel to him. He had barely recovered from the horrors of witnessing her car crashing and tumbling airborne until it slammed down onto the asphalt upside down. Now this...it was all too much.

By the time he reached her, she had collapsed onto the ground, hand clutching at her abdomen where a red stain was quickly spreading through her shirt. 

“C-Colt...I...he...” her eyes were wide in shock, panting and gasping in pain.

“Fuck. Fuck, Ellie, you got shot.” he immediately dropped to his knees beside her and pressed his hand over her wound, a wave of nausea hitting him as her blood seeped through the gaps between his fingers, slicking all over the back of his hand. 

For the first time since his Pops died, revenge wasn’t the first thing on his mind. No matter how much rage was boiling inside of him, the rapid rounds of gun shots behind him faded into mere background noises as he focused on her. She’s all that mattered to him, nothing else.

A knot twisted painfully in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the pretty face that unknowingly stole his heart now marked with scars and bruises, the usual smiley face replaced with a look of terror, the stretch of smooth skin he used to place his lips and fingers now tainted with a hole gushing out red.

“You’re going to be okay, El. You’re going to be okay.” he mumbled, words that were meant to comfort her but needed for himself as reassurance either.

Judging by the sound of skidding tires and the empty click of the gun, Jason had escaped. Part of him wished Mona managed to shoot him dead, ideally a slow excruciating pain as payback for everything he’s done. 

“Oh my god. Sweetie, are you okay?” Ximena came bursting through the building doors, followed by Toby, both rushing to her side to check on her. Meanwhile, Logan was explaining to Mona the rest of the plan when the wail of sirens cut through the air.

“The cops are almost here. Go guys, go!” Ellie said weakly, her breathing growing heavy and laborous.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, trying his best to stay calm. “Fuck the cops. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“I’ll distract them.” Logan volunteered, both Toby and Ximena immediately chimed in to help as well, ensuring all routes would be covered so that the route to the hospital would be clear without any cops tailing.

“Take my car,” Mona offered at last, her arm outstretched towards him with her car keys dangling in between her fingers. “Go take her safely to the hospital. I’ll get your bike there.”

He hesitated for a second, eyeing at Mona dubiously, the image of her chasing down Ellie’s car alongside with the Brotherhood still burning behind his eyes, the betrayal still stinging him.

“Come on, we don’t have time to waste!” Mona urged, as if reading his mind. “I get you don’t trust me but you know I care about her too!” 

He knew she’s right. 

He snatched the keys off her hand and tossed her his keys in exchange without further questions, scooping Ellie into his arms and carried her into Mona’s car, slamming down hard at the accelerator and sped through the city.

“I’m going to kill him...no, all of them.”

“Colt—”

“He. Fucking. Shot. You.” he bellowed, rage and pain dripping from his every word, knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip at the steering wheel, clenching so hard that he thought, for a split-second, that he might have caused a dent if that’s even possible.

“Colt.” Ellie rested her free hand on his shoulder, and miraculously, the anger instantly dissipated, the fists clenched on the wheel immediately relaxed a little, the comfortable touch of her hand on him somehow anchored him from the growing self-destructive rage. 

How funny, he thought, that she was the one calming him when he should be the one comforting her.

He took a couple of deep breaths and squeezed her hand, lifting it to his lips to press a gentle kiss at the back of her hand. “Hang in there, El. You’re going to make it.”

***

She insisted in walking into the ER herself, refusing to put him into any risk of getting caught. He tried to argue, but he knew from the stubbornness and determination in her eyes that he won’t win this one no matter how hard he tried. 

So he could only reassure her (and himself) one last time that everything’s going to be okay, giving her one last desperate kiss, before watching her limp towards the hospital until her petite frame disappeared behind the sliding doors.

His hands shook the entire time, a tornado of emotions eating him up on the inside that’s becoming too overwhelming to bear. 

The familiar sound of his Cavalieri Novanta approached, a soothing rumble saving him from drowning deeper into a blackhole of emotions. As promised, Mona had brought his motorcycle to the hospital for him.

“How is she?”

"She wouldn’t let me go in with her.”

“That’s probably smart.” Mona hummed and climbed off his bike. “You were going to take the bullet for her.”

“She’d be worth it.” he replied, hands stuffed deep into his pockets and eyes staring down at his feet, hoping to hide any trace of distraught on his face. “I was still too fucking late though.”

“He said he wouldn’t hurt her...” she trailed off. Colt glanced up and wondered if that’s guilt he caught in her eyes. 

"Well yeah, you shouldn’t have trusted that prick.” he bumped past her shoulder to get to his bike.

“Hey, Kaneko?” he paused for one moment and turned over his shoulder to acknowledge her. “Always watch your back.” 

He nodded in response and slipped his visor down, gunning his bike away into the night with a roar.

The exhilarating feeling of speed coursing through his body helped a little in distracting his emotions. It was late enough in the dead of the night for him to gun down the road freely, turning up his engine to maximize his horsepower and pushing his bike to its speed limits. 

Frustration seeped in. He wondered if things could’ve gone differently, if there was anything he could’ve done differently to save her or prevented any of this to happen in the first place. 

Eventually, he slowed down to an uphill viewpoint at Ladera Heights, the quiet residential street dimly illuminated by a few street lamps in front of his eyes.

He wasn’t alone.

Logan was there too, shrouded in the shadows behind a tree, eyes trained at one particular house surrounded by flashing cop lights.

“You’re still here.”

“Had to make sure that bastard get taken away.” Logan replied and a silent understanding passed between the two. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah.” 

“She’ll live.”

“I know.”

Just then, the doors of the house swung open, with Jason being dragged out of the house in handcuffs by FBI agents.

Colt clenched his fists at his sides, trying to contain the loathe and fury that were rapidly building inside of him. That man had been responsible for hurting all the people he ever cared about, responsible for all the nightmares that he knew would come haunting him for years to come.

Detective Wheeler stepped outside of the house a minute later, phone pressed onto his ear. The distressed expression on his face could only mean he’d received the news of his daughter from the hospital.

It was damn satisfying to watch Detective Wheeler throwing a solid punch at Jason as soon as he got off the phone, hitting him square at the jaw, and again, drawing blood from the corner of his mouth.

Serves him right.

For one moment, they shared a smirk with each other, him and Logan, that one rare occasion where they actually agreed on something. 

Logan left first, but he stayed and watched until each flashing red and blue faded into the darkness. 

This one’s for you, Pops. And he’d never hurt you ever again, El.

***

Sneaking into the hospital was easier than he anticipated. He waited till he saw Detective Wheeler leave the hospital, making sure there’re no cops stationing around before he went in.

It took him a minute to locate her room but once he found her, the sight of her lying peacefully on the hospital bed sent him a wave of relief.

She’s fine, she’s alive.

He slipped into the room and quietly pulled a chair next to her bed, taking her hand into his, gently stroking the smooth skin of the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Colt?”

“Shit. Sorry, did I wake you?”

She propped herself up, briefly wincing, and glanced nervously around the room. “What are you doing here? What if the FBI —”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. How are you feeling?”

“Weird.” she admitted. “But they took the bullet out and the doctors said everything looks good after the operation so I should be out soon.”

“Good.” He slid next to her on the hospital bed, eager to feel her physically close to him, seeking for the reassurance that she’s truly fine and okay.

A comfortable silence stretched between them, simply enjoying each other’s presence, and his whirlwind of emotions finally settled in.

“You could’ve died,” he croaked suddenly, breaking the silence in the room, voice broken as he buried his head into the crook of her neck. “I love you, El. I fucking love you and I don’t know what I would do if...if you...”

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay now.” 

“You’re all I have left, Ellie.” He pulled back to look at her, gazing deep into her eyes and baring all of his vulnerabilities in front of her.

“I promise I’m not going anywhere.” she said softly, doe eyes staring into his with sincerity before closing in the distance between them, capturing his lips with hers, pouring all her love and promise through the intimacy of their mouths moving against each other.

He’d learnt every single curve of her lips by heart, familiar with every sensation she pulled from him every time her lips touched his. But of course she still managed to surprise him. This kiss? It was stirring the rawest emotions and drawing a whole different level of intimacy that had him breaking down every last of his walls. Once again, he wondered what on earth had she done to him, reaching into the depths of his heart that he didn’t know existed himself. 

When they broke away for air, his eyes were glossy from the pooling tears despite he’s not one who easily shed a tear, leave alone for a girl. But Ellie’s special, a girl who’d continuously done wonders to him. If he were going to cry for a girl, for anyone, it’s going to be for her.

“How are you supposed to keep your promise when you’re leaving LA as soon as you get out of here?” he asked half-jokingly, in attempt to distract himself enough to prevent his tears from falling.

“Knew you’d say that.” his lips tugged into a smirk at the way she rolled her eyes, the familiar feeling of their banter making his heart bloom. She playfully bumped her shoulder against his, “we’ll work something out. I promise.”

The possibilities of their future together played out in his mind. There’s no easy path for them, but he realized he would fight with all his efforts to be with her, moving mountains for her if need to because she’s all he’s got. She’s home, his anchor, his better half, and he needed her like she’s oxygen.

She squeezed his hand, eyes soft filled with affection. “We’ll make it work.” she said determinedly. “It’s you and me against the world, right?”

The knots finally untwisted in him. For the first time all night, things finally somewhat felt right. He looked at her amorously, a genuine smile slowly stretching across his features. “Yeah, you’re damn right.”

[bird-in-a-cage]

@hotdadlicense, part two of your ask!

#45 “Lets get wasted and then go piss on his grave.”

Release

Hawkins had exactly two bars; the bar out east and the bar our west. The bar out east was called Dixies’, it was definitely the rowdier of the two, notoriously known for not carding so it was wildly popular with college kids returning home for the holidays desperate to escape the crushing boredom of family life, and old enough looking high school kids. The cops tended to leave it alone, maybe raiding once or twice a year but always with a few hours notice. As far as law enforcement was concerned if these kids were in a building drinking they weren’t doing it on the street, so less work for them and the community. For the greater good and all that crap. 

The bar out west was called The Tavern. It was a little more old school. The wall behind the bar was lined with whiskey and bourbon bottles rather than tequila and different flavoured sambucas. It had an older clientele. Steve liked working there, whenever he came back from college for the holidays and wanted to pick up a few shifts here and there to help save money to move to Chicago permanently. He didn’t like drinking there though, the air was too smokey and there wasn’t a good looking person in sight, but in many ways they helped. Dixies’ was for fun. The Tavern was for work. Regulars seemed to like him too, only if they could ask about his father and what the old man was up to now, trying to rub elbows for a potential business deal or to get an invite to the Christmas party up at the cabin. Steve was more than used to it, played along just enough to bump his tips.

They didn’t need to know he hadn’t spoken to either of his parents in a good six months, and that his father was busy cosying up to some woman younger than Steve in Milan or that his mother was getting trashed daily in the Bahamas, making eyes at pool boys. Frankly Steve didn’t need to know that either, why they didn’t just divorce years back he never understood. But then, he never really understood his parents on any level.

So, whenever he would come back to the holidays it was purely to make money. He had an empty house to live in and didn’t have to pay a dime for apart from to put food in the fridge. He would rather stay in Chicago though. He liked his life up there. It was so different from being stuck in small town America where nothing exciting happened. The most exciting thing that had happened since he’d been away from January was a new stop sign getting erected by the elementary school. Chicago was alive. He had friends there. Friends he could sometimes make out with. Friends who actually wanted to be around him by choice and not by circumstance, something which he’d learned the difference pretty quickly after leaving the first time.

There wasn’t really anyone around from the old days. Nancy had moved to DC to pursue political journalism. Jonathan had found his way to Seattle, a place which by all handed down stories suited him perfectly. Even Tommy and Carol had gone. The rumor was they’d had a bit of a shotgun wedding after a pregnancy scare and skipped town to New Mexico to go stay with Tommy’s grandma.

Steve couldn’t imagine how fun that was.

He was tending the bar alone. Thursday night, so not exactly a hive of activity. His regulars had come and gone. Mr Jones was propping up the end of the bar, barely awake, not from drink just because he was old now and he just fell asleep sometimes. Things in Hawkins never changed. The entrance was pushed open, and in staggered a face Steve hadn’t seen in years, one he was certain had skipped town by now.

Billy fucking Hargrove.

The last time they’d seen each other was before Steve had left for college. They’d maybe fooled around once or twice that summer but it wasn’t anything serious. Turns out they were only beating the crap out of each other in high school because of some weird sexual tension that would spill over and become beat downs in the parking lot. Outside of the hallways, away from prying eyes, with a chance to actually use their words, they kind of got on. Even if Billy was still kind of a pushy asshole.

Billy didn’t look great though, decidedly drunk as he made his way over to the bar, dressed completely in black. Pants, shoes, belt, his old leather jacket and a plain shirt which he was making quick work of undoing a couple of the top buttons of. His hair was cut short, but not too short, and he’d gotten another piercing in the same ear as his signature hoop. But aside from that, he looked just the same. It was a real blast from the past.

“Whiskey please,” he muttered, rummaging around in his pocket for his wallet. He hadn’t noticed who was behind the bar yet.

“You know, legally, I’m not allowed to serve you if you’re already drunk,” Steve said with a smile, trying to be as kind as possible. He didn’t know what Billy was like now. He could still have that wicked hair trigger for all Steve knew. And he really didn’t want to have to deal with glass getting thrown around. It was a nightmare to clean up. Billy’s head popped up from his lap at the sound of Steve’s voice. His blue eyes were glassy. Like marbles. Just as loose too. He grinned and let on the bar. He was definitely using it for support.

“Stevie!” He slurred around his tongue. Yup, wasted. “What are you doin’ here? Nevermind, whiskey please ol’ friend. For me and everyone here! ‘Cause why the fuck not huh?” Billy slapped a dollar bill on the bar and fought with his jacket to rip it off. There was a light dusting of a boot mark on the side of his shirt, just above his hip. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“You got kicked out of Dixies’, didn’t you?”

“Mayybee,” Billy giggled, before staring right at Steve, waiting for his drink. “And the liquor store closed already so you’re my only hope ol’ friend, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal of mine!”

Steve sighed and checked the time on his watch, there was still an hour before he could close up. There was no way he was going to ply Billy with more alcohol, so he gave him a glass of water instead, which received a very annoyed look in return. “Drink that first then maybe.”

Billy muttered something dark under his breath but wasn’t so far gone he was going to start a fight. He grabbed the glass roughly and took a sip. His ring hit off the rim and echoed dull. “What you doin’ here anyway? Thought you’d escaped this shithole.”

Before Steve left they’d spoken about escaping this town. Billy was more desperate for it than Steve was. He had dreams of going back to California, staying near the coast, surfing everyday, maybe going to study mechanical engineering, something practical he could do with his hands. By the looks of it they were still just dreams. The story he’d heard from Dustin one time was, before the conversation was quickly changed, was his whole home life had gone to even more shit than it already was. Billy’s stepmom got sick so couldn’t work, his dad jumped back on the wagon with abandon so didn’t work, leaving Billy to make sure Max got through high school and all the bills were paid at the end of every month single handed.

“He’s still a dick, but he’s not that much of a dick anymore. Anyway, how’s the pizza there? Is it awesome?!”

“I come back sometimes,” Steve answered. Billy’s body rolled like a chuckle but no noise came out. “What’s with the look? You ditch the metal and go goth?”

“It was my dad’s funeral today.”

Well, if that didn’t just suck the fun out of everything.

“Shit. Shit man, I’m sorry. I was just having a joke-”

“No no it's okay,” Billy interrupted, smiling again like he hadn’t just dropped a complete bombshell into the middle of their stilted conversation. “I’m not commiseratin’. I’m celebratin’! The old cunt’s heart finally popped. Surprised they fuckin’ found one instead of a black hole…”

Billy drank his water back in one like it was hard liquor. It didn’t look like he was celebrating. Steve refilled the glass quietly.

“How is...everyone?” Steve asked. Because that’s what you did when things like this come up. Least that’s what he had done with funerals in the past. Extending empathy.

Billy shrugged. “Everyone’s fine. Happy to be rid of him.” He ran this thumb around the edge of the glass. It didn’t make a noise. “When’d you getoff?”

Steve felt himself get a little hot under the collar. A long time had passed since that summer, but the memories of it sometimes still remained. Echoes of it all would sometimes dance over his skin if someone he was hooking up with touched him certain ways, or kissed certain spots. As much as they’d hated each other in high school, it had made for some pretty fun make up sex. But no, Billy was far too gone for any of that. And Steve wasn’t about to start being that guy, hanging around his childhood home and hooking up with old flames because there was nothing better to do other than watch the corn grow. “About an hour. Why?”

Billy felt around in his pockets for what felt like an age before tossing his keys behind the bar into the corner. They landed with a metallic clatter against the floor. “I shouldn’t drive. Can you take me somewhere?”

“Bill-”

“Please?” For a moment Billy actually looked vulnerable. Steve had never seen that before. It didn’t suit him. Not in the slightest. “I’m a fuckin’ orphan now man just, please? Then I’ll leave you alone. And you can escape again. Just one place.”   

There was that too. Steve had learnt through Dustin, who’d learnt through Will, who’d gotten it off Jane, who’d gotten it from Max herself, that Billy’s mom died when he was a kid. Apparently it was rough, but he never talked about it. Just wore it around his neck like a constant weight, let it wear him down and let the sadness feed the anger. Two snakes chasing each other’s tails. And Max wasn’t around back then to have seen it. It was all second hand stories heard through her stepfather. God only knew how much of a reliable narrator he was. 

Steve really didn’t want to be a babysitter again, he’d left those days in the past even if Dustin still sent him a mother’s day card for a joke. He really didn’t want to have to babysit a drunk, emotionally unstable adult. But he couldn’t exactly leave Billy to his own devices. Not when he was like this. God only knew what he was capable of anymore.

“One place?” He reiterated, just to make sure. Billy’s glassy eyes lit up as much as they could.

“Just one. That’s all. I promise.”

“Fine,” Steve said, going for sounding annoyed by it all, but he probably just came off as normal. Taking care of other people. That’s what he did best. Even at college he was Dorm Mom, leaving out glasses of water and snacks and advil. It was something that was never going to leave him. Maybe he just had to accept that. Billy smiled, probably about as close to warm as he could manage and leant down to scoop his jacket off the floor.

“I’ll get you outside. Yous still drive that shitty beamer right?”

He was staggering away before Steve even had time to answer. His quiet night plans of just going to sleep were in tatters.

-

Billy was sitting on the ground when Steve finished and had locked up for the night, clearly not giving a damn about the dry dirt he was getting over his pants, or all up the side of Steve’s car where he was leaning, swigging from a small half empty bottle of Jack Daniels. Steve couldn’t even pretend to not be annoyed. It was late, he’d been on his feet for six hours, and he wanted to go home and eat something. Not be taken on a drunken adventure.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, walking over to his car to open it up and get them both inside. He wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible. Billy scrambled to his feet without help but just creating a little cloud of dust.

“I had it’in my pocket the whoooole time. Don’t tell the barman. He might get mad at me.”

“Might huh?” God this was going to be a long night. It was already a long night. Steve got into the driver’s side, Billy sprawled himself into the passenger seat, somehow worse than before. He just had to keep reminding himself that Billy had a rough day. The roughest of rough days whether he would ever admit it or not. “So, where am I driving you too?”

“The church.” Billy took another swig and Steve wanted to just bat that bottle out of his hands already, but he didn’t want the car he used barely three months out of the year to stink of bourbon the next time he got in it and be reminded of all this.

“The church? There’s four churches in this town, you’re gonna have to help me out more on that one.”

Two bars. Four churches. Welcome to the midwest.

“The one with the tree...” Billy slowly spread his arms out to imitate branches, tilting his head to make the shape in his mind.

Steve wound his hand tight around the steering wheel, still trying to give the benefit of the doubt but this was already driving him crazy. “Yeah, no, still gonna have to work a little harder helping me out here man. I’m not a mind reader.”

BIlly sighed dramatic and loud, ripping a flyer from an inner jacket pocket and thrusting it under Steve’s nose for him to take. Neil Hargrove’s funeral flyer. Oh. Oh god they were going to do this? There was no way Steve wanted to sit in his car and listen to Billy cry or whatever while staring at a fresh grave. He signed on for a ride home, maybe once through the drive thru to sober the guy up, not get strapped into the emotional rollercoaster that was maybe about to start.

But they were both here. And Billy had just finished the bottle and tossed it out the door to smash to pieces in a far off part of the parking lot hidden by darkness. Steve couldn’t kick him out now. Nothing about who he was as a person would let him. He still sighed annoyed about the whole thing though, and started the engine, driving off to the edge of town where this church was. Billy was relatively quiet on the drive, staring out the window at passing street lights, warm yellow dots reflecting in his eyes. Steve wanted to make conversation, maybe ask how it had been, what he’d been up to, what his plans were now Max was getting close to graduating, but it didn’t seem right to do so. How do you really flow into a conversation about how you’ve been stuck in a place you despise for longer than you ever wanted to be, and you’re now an orphan to boot. Even though Steve never saw his parents, a fact he was more than used to since he turned thirteen, he still couldn’t imagine them dying. Just being left alone forever. They called a few times a year. They were horrible people but they were still his parents. It was something Steve didn’t want to think about too hard. 

Billy still had enough common courtesy left to roll the window down a crack before lighting up a cigarette though. So there was that at least.

The church was quiet and dark. As it should be past midnight. Steve parked up out front and followed Billy’s staggering steps as he suddenly knew exactly where he was going and went with drunken determination. At least Steve hoped that he knew where he was going. He stayed a couple paces behind, had brought a flashlight just in case Billy stumbled or anything and needed to be picked up out of the headstones before someone called the police on them trespassing. Steve didn’t need that on his record, and he dreaded to think how long Billy’s must be by now.

Even in the dark Neil Hargrove’s stone looked brand new. It was light grey granite. Didn’t have a lot of words etched into it. Just his name, the dates of his life, and the words ‘son, father, husband’. Steve flashed his light over it, watched Billy stand to attention and lean over the fresh dirt, a leg keeping him stable on either side of it, body close to the stone. He laughed darkly and spat venom at the letters.

“You fuckin’ deserve this. Fuckin’ cunt.”

For what felt like slow, painful hours there were only the sounds of Billy’s heavy laboured breaths, little metallic echoes of a belt and zipper being undone, then the ungodly splash of piss, quickly evolving into an endless stream that just kept coming and coming. Steve was frozen to the spot he picked a few feet back. He wanted to at least not illuminate the for sure crime he was witness to now, but no part of him could move. Just in shock. Steve had joked about stuff like this sure, but do actually do it? Billy laughed as it just kept coming, cackling and howling in delight to no one but himself.

Like he’d been waiting his whole life to unload like this.

Eventually the stream came to an end, he audibly tucked himself away and spat again, before either the drink or the emotion of the day finally got too much, and he collapsed flat on his back in the grass. Probably where he’d stood earlier in the daylight to check his father was really dead. That seemed like a Billy thing to do. Steve waited a few beats before stepping closer, making sure not to shine the light directly into his glassy marbles and more aim it towards his heaving chest.

“Feel better?” was all he could come up with to say. What’s even normal to say after watching someone piss on their own father’s grave, no matter how much you hate them? Billy grinned wide, his lips reaching to his ears almost, and laughed. He sounded free.

“I’ve been waitin’ to do that alllll day!”

“You don’t say,” Steve couldn’t help but smile, and bent over to help Billy up from his sprawled state. He was quite the lump to move but was soon on his feet with his arm slung over Steve’s shoulder and moving without needing pulled. Steve held onto his waist to keep him upright and in a straight line. He smelt horrific.

“Can we get pizza? Really want pizza.” Billy slurred as his head found its way onto Steve’s shoulder easily, like all the fight and hate and decades of built up resentment and anger had literally just been pissed away. 

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah man. We can get pizza.”

[qhostqizmo]

Little Slice of Heaven

“I would like to be left alone, Theophilus.”

“Come now Lord Amon, no one likes to be left alone.”

A quiet growl rumbled in the nobleman’s throat. His head whipped around, turning a piercing gaze towards the statesman. The corner of his lip peeled back in a snarl nearly feral in nature, prompting the gentleman to hastily take a step back.

“Well I do,” he opposed in a thick tone.

The mousy broad-bellied man shifted sheepishly before him, trying to shrink their figure inward. “P-Please m’lord- you will be rejoining after recess, won’t you?”

“I will need a moment to consider if I shall; or if your wingbagged alias has the ability to be silent and allow someone else to speak at these proceedings, before I pass judgment on that matter.”

“You’re being fatuous, m’lord-”

Amon exhaled sharply. His nostrils flared, the shape of his shoulders growing broader as his spine stiffened. The nobleman peered down at the politician as he spoke in an ominous whisper: “I am being sensible, Master Theophilus. If I waste my time any longer in a room full of arrogant rambling administrators, then I am wasting the time of my territory and those who seek my authority and guidance to protect and serve it. I do not have the hour to sit and be spoken over by the likes of Roulf Boude or Claudia Fulvianus, or any of the like with their hubris and tactless greed. I have other obligations that demand my attention, and when everyone has finally settled into peaceful discussion and respectably appropriate delegations, I would be happy to seek audience again.”

“But for now,” he rumbled, taking a step forward, “I suggest that you go, Theo. I need space to think, and I have responsibilities to attend to and contracts to review and sign. So if you do not mind getting off of my property, and allowing me to go undisturbed into my home-”

Nodding vigorously, the short and stout Theo began to retreat in a backwards scuttle off the Briarton Estate’s pathway. “Yes sir, of course sir, I hope we’ll see you s-soon sir-”

Amon grunted to himself, turning away with a dramatic flick of his cloak. Unlikely.

Bricks laid out the foundation of the walkway to the manor. Within the cracks along some of the blocks; squeezing with determination between slots, a few common wild violets had taken root. He took care not to step on any of them as the tenacious little flowers guided him to the threshold. A strong scent from the house-hugging flora greeted him as he breathed in deeply, opening the heavy oak door. The geranium’s and hydrangea were in bloom, competing each other for dominance in the landscape. They also had a delightful calming effect before stepping in; taking in the range of colors and relaxing scents they provided in the mellow summer breeze.

“Lord Amon?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he called out, shutting the door softly behind.

A young maid stepped around the corner, offering a bow. “Would you like an afternoon snack, my lord?”

“Not at the moment, thank you.”

She curtsied. “Very well milord. Call if you need anything.”

He nodded shortly, sliding the dense mantle from his shoulders to drape over his arm. The nobleman watched the young woman retreat as he stepped further into the foyer, the sound of claws scrambling hastily coming from the east side of the house.

Sighing, he anchored his boots to the floor just as Caesar came barreling from the gallery room. The great mastiff skidded into his knees, letting out one of his tremendous bellowing barks that filled the entire space with his eagerness. He gave a butt wiggle that shook in tandem with his tail, leaving Amon to chuckle as he reached down to scratch the hunting dog’s ears.

“A very dignified entry Caesar,” he reported as the pooch groaned with pleasure. “How’s my good boy?”

“Arf.”

“Excellent. Have you been out recently?”

The hairy beast of a creature gave a mighty shake, sitting upon his hunches. He tilted his head, panting heavily up at his master.

“Outside?” Amon asked, patting his head.

A simple whine answered him as Caesar stood up, circling his legs eagerly.

He pat his thigh, signaling for the mastiff to follow. The duo made their way into the gallery room; no longer a dull space of gray stone with only the taxidermy stuffed game to bare their teeth in greeting. Paintings lined the wall; and the new throw rug added a splash of color and pattern to the otherwise uninspiring space. A few seating arrangements had been added, along with a card table and sculptures. There were still a few bare spaces, particularly near the south-side of the room, but that was Part D of a rather extensive project to liven various areas of the house.

Crossing through the identified ‘man cave’ of the lower level, Amon entered the kitchen with Caesar fast at his heels. He propped open the door to the backyard with his foot, allowing the dog to bolt through with a delighted series of yelps as he chased off the closest songbirds rooting the grass for insects.

“Afternoon, milord.”

“Afternoon-” he barely managed to utter, catching just a glimpse of the houseaid before she disappeared into the extended pantry. He cleared his throat: “Would you mind listening to let Caesar in? I’m going to head upstairs.”

“Certainly milord; not a problem.”

“Thank you Carla.”

He took the way back in which he came, passing through the dark-lit interior of the ‘men’s sanctuary’ and into the gallery. His gaze passed the portrait of Fontane to his right; no longer lonely with canvas work added of loved one’s now passed. It was a small memorial space; with pressed lily flowers in frames and a few plaques quoting heartfelt quotes. A large branch had been recently anchored to the wall, with hollow holes allowing small metal dishes to sit sustaining candles. There were even some recent additions he hadn’t seen until this moment: peace lilies added to the vase at the corner nook table, and a new ivy plant along the bottom of the branch.

A twinge of pain radiated through his chest. Pressing his fingers to his lips, Amon blew a kiss to the beaming expression of Marie looking back at him before he moved on.

The Illiad heir hopped up the stairs with a spring in his step, meeting the second landing. Sunlight cascaded past the curtains, the smell of the central courtyard garden entering the open windows. He picked up on the rustling coming from the sitting room just ahead before he saw a figure moving quickly into the doorway.

“M’lord- Oh… Do you want to talk about what happened? You look stressed my love.”

Amon absorbed her appearance; soaking her in like flora to sunshine. The smile that graced her face upon first glance faded quickly with a knit of her worried brow. Shadows fell over her golden eyes like clouds blocking rays of the sun. She fiddled her fingers in front of the pale blush off-the-shoulder shirt she wore; cinched at the waist, with ruffled short-length sleeves. It was a pleasant rosy hue, making the shade of her skintone appear deeper, more a rich brown.

She was a breath of fresh air, deep in the depths of his lungs. He slid his feet forward slowly, finding her arms instantly open to welcome him into her embrace.

He inhaled the faded aroma of soap in her loose black curls, pulling her in close to rock from side to side. The shape of her was a familiarity to him; warm and soft, curving into his frame with the same shade of longing he felt beneath his ribcage.

His wife pressed her lips to the ticklish skin below his ear, and he chuckled.

“Rough day, beloved?”

“Vexing,” he agreed heavily, “but it’s already feeling a bit better.”

“Well I’m happy to hear that,” she hummed. “Can I get you anything? Was the summit dreadful?”

“A mockery Essie; truly. I’ve rarely dealt with such immature individuals. Would you care to join me when we reconvene? I could use your sharp tongue.”

Essätha pulled her head back to arch her brow, a playful smile on her face. “That depends; am I kissing you with it or spearing someone else?”

Amon’s eyes widened with surprise. “Quite the spirited tease today, darling.”

“I do enjoy a good game,” she admitted, reaching back around to pat his chest. “While you were out I went ahead and assessed the contracts Edger sent us; triple-checked them a few times. Our ledges and estimates all seemed in order and correct, but I didn’t sign anything until you oversaw it just in case.”

“You could have, you know I trust you.”

“I know, but I love hearing you read contracts aloud in that sexy deep droning voice of yours.” She winked at him as he chuckled, venturing onward, “besides, it’s a team effort. I would rather you catch my mistakes now than later down the road.”

The nobleman grinned, staring down into her smiling face. He leaned forward, basking in the glory of the way her breath hitched expectedly, and how her lashes fluttered low. She slid her arms around his neck to dig her fingers through his air as his lips brushed hers. A shaky exhale escaped her, waiting patiently, until he pressed closer for a more earnest kiss.

They separated slowly, with her eyes peering up at him beneath dark lashes. The sorcereress dropped her hands from around him, and grabbed gently at his bicep.

“Come, sit with me.”

Amon let go of his noblewoman, allowing her to take his hands instead. She guided him back into the sitting area where she had come from, walking at an angle so her eyes could remain holding his. It was a holy experience, following someone cut from the heart of divinity. He would follow her blindly anywhere, anywhere at all. She was in his blood, in his heart, the sun in his eyes glistening so brilliantly; she was everywhere he wanted to be, the only longing he could not live without.

“You’ve had a long enough day already,” Essie urged sweetly, taking a seat upon the sofa. She pat the spot beside her with her free hand. “Rest.”

He obeyed her willingly, obliging by sinking gently into the cushion beside hers.

She carefully detangled her hand from his. Her fingers brushed against the side of his face and up, pushing stray hairs away from his forehead. His eyes darted over her, watching as she indicated a sweeping gesture over her lap. An invitation.

Once more, loyal and willing, he began to drift towards her. Bunching his knees in, Amon kept his boots mostly off the clean couch by dangling his ankles off to the side as he rolled inward. Scooting and wriggling, he steadied himself to flat on his back, head in her lap, looking up into the vibrant joyful expression peaking down at him. Her smile was stunning; making an already beautiful woman ethereal in ways that slackened his jaw. It was a small gesture, but it softened around her eyes as the edges of her cheeks rounded.

“Wow,” he cooed, “you look incredible from every view.”

Essätha scoofed at him, the bridge of her nose wrinkling in disagreement. “Hussssshh…”

Leaning forward, she grazed her fingertips through his locks. She combed hair back from his forehead, stroked along his eyes, and rubbed the pads of her fingers near his temples.

A groan rose up in his throat, his eyelids falling to half-mast in bliss.

Softly, Essie began to hum. It almost felt as though it was filling his chest; radiating into his ribcage and bouncing around like an orchestra in a cathedral. Amon sighed heavily, allowing the heaviness in his body to drift away as he succumbed to her touch more and more.

She began to whisper slowly a hymn. He understood none of it, but he didn’t have to. Whatever the lyrics were, they were words of an angel, and of love. The words fell into a melody as her voice higher; louder, sweeter. It was not just the celestial tongue that had him so smitten, or the nature of the words. It was her body language that captivated him; the tenderness that poured out of her, the enormity of her compassion and unbridled will of strength.

Gods themselves would weep, hearing something so precious.

He melted; enamored and adoringly staring up into the halo of the sun that was wreathing her head. It was all so dreamy; so beyond what mortals could be capable of. Her touch was a saint’s blessing, carding through mane of fading-black. Her nails scrapped against his hairline; her palms rubbed metric gestures that seemed to coordinate with the rise and fall of her chorus against the side of his head. He imagined he could close his eyes and drift away to sleep; the most comfortable slumber he’d ever have, if he wasn’t so stubbornly enticed to being aware and there in the waking world with her. No fantasy’s ever did justice on the fascination and depth that resided in her soul. Nothing compared to the reality that was being beside her.

Clearing his throat, he reached up to cup the side of her face, sweeping his thumb against her jawline. “I’m in awe of you a little more every day,” he mouthed, breathing deeply.

Essie laughed shyly. “People are going to think I’m charming you with talk like that,” she teased.

“You are quite charming.”

“M’lord Amon.”

“Even when you say my name with disapproval, it’s still the most enchanting thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re love-drunk,” the sorceress murmured, ghosting her lips intimately along his palm, and down to his wrist.

“I have been,” he agreed in a lulled hush. “I have been for a long time, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Do you not want a cure?” she mused, massaging her fingertips from behind his ears down to his neck.

A shiver rushed over him. “You are my cure. I love being intoxicated by you. You relax me, and you challenge me. You make me stronger, and you bring me to my knees. Your wit and charm make me feel invincible and intelligent, while also humbling me that I still can always learn more from you. I am in a constant state of balance and bliss, when you are by my side.”

Her eyelids dropped a little lower as he spoke, while her smile grew broader. Essie skimmed her touch from his forehead through his hair and back, making his groan again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Essie, so much.”

“I love you just as much,” she whispered, huddling over to give him a peck on the cheek.

Amon tilted his head a few degrees, allowing her hands to comb through a different section of his hair. His eyelids drifted a bit lower as she began to pick up the tune to the song she had been singing, the angelic lines floating through the air, giving harmony to his heartbeat.

Sighing, the nobleman nuzzled his face into her thighs, reaching around to wrap an arm around her waist. She half-giggled, continuing to sing as he peaked up at her from her abdomen, admiring the most gorgeous woman in all of the world. His home, his heart, the entire pillar of his contentment hindered on that soft, private smile made just for him. This moment alone with her reminded him of the true meaning of life: at the end of the day, love was all that mattered, and it would conquer all else… Even if all it had to overcome was the brief stormcloud of his sour mood. It never stood a chance against Essätha Illiad; vanquisher of darkness, and keeper of his heart.

[theateared]

Karma’s a Bitch. ❜

Summary:  Edgar doesn’t take kindly to people messing with his creed members. Warnings:  Graphic depictions of violence.

    He entered the bar with a sense of purpose, immediately locating the man that he was after in the same spot as he had been when they had first met.  It was late, closing time upon him, and the dwindling staff pleased Edgar greatly.  I need you alone.  I can’t do anything with an audience.

    After a moment to compose himself, the Alpha proceeded to the bar, leaning against it and waiting to be given attention.  When he wasn’t given it after a few seconds, he cleared his throat, prompting Ronnie to turn around quickly.

    “Did I scare you?”   Edgar asked with his usual wide grin.  He was delighted to note the slight pause before the other told him that he didn’t, that he’d just surprised him.  You’re a liar.  I unsettle you.   “Good!  You don’t have to fret around me, you know.  I came with a simple request.”

    “It’s kinda…  closing time,”   the man mumbled, glancing at the clock.  Edgar nodded.

    “It isn’t a business inquiry,”   he replied, fingers steepling.   “I was wondering if you wanted to play cards.  I never did get the opportunity to play with you the last time I was here and I’ll admit that I’ve been thinking about it.  I want to see if I really can beat you.”   When he didn’t look convinced, Edgar slipped the cash that he’d taken from his tavern’s till and set it down on the bar-top, smiling wider.   “Of course we’d play for money.  Like men!”

    He watched as the man halted in his tracks, eyes taking in the notes in front of him before his face cracked into a smile.    “That’s quite a hefty sum.”

    “That’s why I’m betting it,”   Edgar replied with a smug smile.   “I think people play better when they have something to lose, no?”

    He had to hold back a snicker as he was led down to the basement.  That’s exactly where I need you.

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

    Ronnie clearly felt comfortable down there.  It didn’t take him long to settle once he’d set up the table, a bottle and a pack of cigarettes set out for his consumption throughout their match. Edgar refused any and all things that were offered to him, spinning some tale about abstinence for the sake of his children when Ronnie ceased to pester him about it.  Surprisingly, he was respectful of that much, not asking again.

    Good for you.  But it’s not enough to help you now.

    As he was dealt his hand, Edgar swept his cards from the table and stared at them.  It was average, not particularly good or bad;  a couple of viable routes he could go down, a couple of dead-ends that could cost him the game if he tried to pursue them.  It wasn’t as if it mattered.  We won’t finish.

    “When did you start playing?”   Ronnie asked as he took his first card from the pile, face not changing when he saw it.  You’re good.  You have one hell of a poker face, though I bet it’s only for cards.

    “I have a friend who can’t seem to keep himself away from casinos,”   he replied, voice chipper.  That much was the truth.  Moxie had a gambling streak in him to say the least. Whenever there came an opportunity to bet money on something or play on a slot machine of some sort, the lye lit up in a way that Edgar found equally as worrying as he did endearing.  Why is it only when you’re throwing things away that you find any joy in what you’re doing?   “In an effort to cut his habits down, I learned to play so that we could do so in a way that we could both control.  He could still make some bets;  I could stop him if it became too pricey or too stupid.”

    “It works?”   he asked, shuffling his cards around before discarding one, replacing it with another.

    “Eh.  Varied results.”   He picked his own card to throw away, taking one from the pile as Ronnie’s previous one didn’t help him any.  Though he didn’t intend to play the game all the way through, he still felt some sense of commitment towards making good choices.  Perhaps I don’t want him to have a final high before he dies.   “What made you open up a bar?”

    “Is this a tactic?  You tryna distract me?”

    Edgar spared him a brief chuckle, tail coiling behind his head.   “I’m just curious.  I own a tavern.”

    “Ohhh.  That makes a lot of sense.”   Ronnie paused to take a long swig of alcohol, his legs suddenly propped atop the table.   “Yeah no, I just wanted to make some place that was different, y’know?  Somewhere kinda charming but not as in-your-face as a club.  Vide’s got too many of those.”

    “Ahhh,”   Edgar said, chuckling.   “That’s funny.  I figured you did it to rape women more easily.  To get them all drunk and high and incapable.”

    There was a heavy silence, one devoid of the niceties they’d both been exuding up until that point.  Then, in a frustrated voice:   “Excuse me?”

    “You’re not excused,”   he said breezily, swapping his card for one on the pile.  At this point, he could feel Ronnie’s stare burning a hole into his skull, indignation hot and fierce.  When he didn’t say anything, Edgar lifted his gaze to his, head tilting to one side.   “Mhmm.  I know what you did to ‘NeeNee’.  She told me everything.”

    He seemed to go pale then, shooting up from his seat and demanding that he left.

    “I knew it.  Your pokerface is certainly only for card games,”   Edgar replied, remaining seated.   “So?  How was it?  Did you have fun?”

    “Did you?”   he spat back, furiously trying to deflect blame.  When Edgar looked up at him again, he continued, an enraged spiel beginning to leave him.   “Everyone could hear you two in there, you fuckin’ sicko.  It’s bullshit for you to be pointing fingers like this!”

    “The difference being that she begged me to do it,”   he replied calmly, shuffling his cards around until placing them face-down on the table.   “She couldn’t get far away enough from you if she tried.  She likes me, you see.  That’s not something you’re so familiar with, is it?”

    “Fu--”   He was interrupted by the hybrid’s tail flitting by his ankle, slithering upwards until the forked end could get caught in his shirt collar.  It dragged him close, his hip slamming painfully into the side of the table as he all but tumbled onto the Alpha’s lap.  His words caught in his throat as fear took a hold of him.

    “If you ever insinuate that I rape my inferiors again, I’ll take your eyes and feed them to you, understand?”   Edgar hissed.  Perhaps a little introspection would do you good regardless. If you could look inside yourself, maybe you’d be able to see what a scumbag you are.

    Ronnie hesitated, nodding feebly, though it was clear he was still pissed off.   “Why’re you here?  It was just a bit of fun.  You just left her there--”

    “She told me to leave, so I left.  She did not tell you to lay your hands on her.  Did she?” The room was silent, and that ticked him off enough to stand up, slamming the man’s head down onto the table.   “Did she?  She didn’t tell you to do that, did she?”

    “NO, Ch-Christ, let me--  what’re you--  WHAT’RE YOU DOING?!”   He began to struggle as he felt the man above him feeling around his waist line, his pants loosening from his waist. His fingers curled into the table, legs kicking furiously, terror building up in his throat like vomit as he began to scream.

    “What’s the phrase...  ’karma’s a bitch’, eh?”   Edgar asked, asserting more of his weight atop him as he wrestled his pants to his ankles.

    “Oh my fucking God, don’t--  you’resomuchfuckingbiggerthanme--”   He was beginning to sob, sanity slipping through his fingers as he felt himself going numb with fear.  He was bucking and squirming as much as he could, adrenaline rushing to his head, and then all at once he’d frozen still, body seizing up, tears blurring his vision as he felt the other man’s hands tear and rip and push--

    -- and then the pressure was gone.  When he dared to open his eyes again, he barely had time to see anything before he was dragged up by his hair, body meeting Edgar’s sturdy frame effortlessly.  He felt foolish standing there in just his underwear, though he was too terrified to think about retrieving his pants.  He just stood there like an idiot, wheezing through tears and whimpers, and when Edgar’s cold hand gripped his chin, the sounds only got worse.

    “... I want you to remember that,”   he told him softly, voice hot against his ear.   “That fear. I want you to carry it with you to the grave.  And every time you recall it, I want you to think of that poor, small girl that you took advantage of in the bathroom.  Do you understand me?”

    He nodded quickly, sniffling for all he was worth.   “G-God, yes, o-of c--”

    “You revolt me.  I couldn’t do this for the life of me.  I couldn’t regardless, because I’m not an animal, but especially not to you.  You make me sick--”   He didn’t think about what he was doing when he spat at him.  In truth, he hadn’t meant to--  only realised when he was staring at a missing patch of skin, pale white bone revealed, the screaming fading in as he came to terms with it, and that was the beginning of it all.

    I was going to let you go, you know.  I was going to hurt you, badly, but I was going to let you live.  Carry that guilt around for a while.  But we can’t go back, can we?

    He couldn’t stop himself from beating him.  Edgar didn’t often punch people.  He was more keen on scratching;  on scraping until there was nothing left for his claws to get caught in.  He enjoyed the feeling of blood beneath his nails, of gore between his fingers…  but punching certainly relieved more stress.  By the time he was able to stop, he became aware of Ronnie’s rattled breathing, as if oxygen was being shook around in his lungs before being expelled as a measly puff of air.  Bent over him on the table, he realised that the other man had been right:  he really was so much bigger than him.  It wasn’t hard with his height, but it really put things into perspective nonetheless.  You’re nothing.  You’re like a rabbit to me, only you serve less of a function.  You’re dirt.  You’re the bitch I refused to become in this life.

    “Look at me,”   the Alpha demanded heatedly.  His smile was nowhere in sight.  How could it be when he was this angry?  When Ronnie failed to open his eyes, the lye snarled, hand closing around his throat.   “I said look, at me,”   he pressed, squeezing hard.  With a choked noise, the bartender cracked one eye open and stared at him.  Whatever light had been there had been squeezed out of him.   “This is--”  

    His words were cut off as a glob of blood was spat at him.  It rested on his cheek, viscous and thick, and his brow furrowed slowly.

    “Fuck you,”   Ronnie muttered through shallow breaths.   “Y-You’re gonna kill me?  You’re gonna kill me for one little girl?”   he asked, voice high-pitched and breathy.   “I loved fuckin’ her.  She whores out for you so she ain’t tight, but she--  she forgot all about you--  she didn’t give a shit about who you were when my dick was inside her.  ‘Alpha’ my ass. Alpha of what, the fuckin’ children?”

    The words rang out like a siren in his head, bouncing against the walls of his skull like ricocheted bullets.  A bloody hand reached up to wipe his cheek slowly, ridding it of the saliva that offended him so, before a chuckle left him. It was quiet at first, though it quickly turned shrill, teeth remaining grit together in a perfect smile as he did so.  Where does your voice come from?

    In a distorted, crackled voice:   “YOU WANT TO PLAY GAMES WITH ME?  AHAHAHA--”   He didn’t say anything else, reaching across the table until he could grab some loose poker chips, shovelling them into his mouth.  He pushed them so hard that several teeth broke along with it, one chip tumbling free and lodging itself in the back of his throat.  Ronnie began to struggle, choking, but Edgar refused to give him any relief as he held him still against the table. When he was on the very cusp of death, skin fading after being a terrible pink, the Alpha pulled him up and dragged him close, weight pressed into his stomach.  A mess of poker chips and vomit came spurting free like confetti from a party-popper.  The man immediately hunched, feeling his stomach turn as he tried desperately to catch his breath, groaning when the lye wrapped his tail around his leg.  He suddenly tugged hard, a sickening crack resounding in the well-lit basement, and Ronnie screamed as a searing pain consumed his lower half.  The tears were starting again, words and apologies garbled messes as the Alpha grabbed at his face, propping it in his direction.   “I suppose it’s kind of hard to talk shit when you’re choking, hm?  Hm?  Do you have anything else to say, wise-guy?”

     Ronnie shook his head quickly through horrified wails.  Where’s my leg?  My hip’s in the wrong place.  

     “No, I didn’t think so.  Let’s just--”   He reached into his mouth then, claws acting like a pair of scissors as he scraped at the man’s tongue.  He continued until he could feel the tip of it coming loose, Ronnie’s mouth a mess of blood and vomit.  When it was free, Edgar pulled it away, inspecting it under a lightbulb as if it was a rare jewel of some kind.   “Let’s just take that. I don’t want my title in such a dirty mouth.  And you won’t make another blunder like that again, will you?  Win-win.”

    The lye took a moment to pause, letting the man’s body crumble to the ground as he leaned against the table.  Bloody hands reached into his coat pocket for his pack of mock-cigarettes. One was lit slowly, a controlled breath taken in and then heaved out.  As he smoked, he thought. I wonder if Neena’s the only one he’s taken advantage of like this?  Probably not.  These kinds of dirtbags tend to be repeat offenders.  I’m probably ridding the world of somebody horrible.  The police will probably consider it a favour.

    Only when he’d finished his smoke did he tune in to the man’s pathetic crying.  An ear flitted in his direction, the hysteria plain in each laboured breath as he attempted to pick himself up, broken leg leaned on for the briefest of seconds before he gave into another shriek, sinking to his dominant knee again.  As Edgar stared down at him with cold eyes, he was stricken with a thought so primitive that it surprised him:  you’re not even an inferior.  They’re too good for you. You’re a parasite.

     With a quiet huff, the Alpha stood up again, putting his cigarette out on the back of Ronnie’s hand before reaching for the alcohol he’d been drinking beforehand.  He considered taking a sip before deciding against it.  Not only do I not need it, his dirty mouth’s been on it.  It was smashed against the table, jagged edge brought to the light for him to inspect as liquor spattered against the floor like blood.

    He watched with black eyes as his target attempted to slide on his knee away from him, though it looked more as if he was trying to hop.  Every time Ronnie placed even the slightest of pressure on his wounded leg, he would whimper and shake, sometimes even wail.  Eventually, Edgar became bored, standing up and making his way around the table, the neck of the bottle squeezed tight as he gained a firm grip in Ronnie’s hair, pulling him against his legs.  Had he been able to speak, he likely would have tried to bargain for his life.

    “I’m through with you,”   he said without feeling, as if his favourite toy’s batteries had died and he’d decided he didn’t like it as much when static.   “Let it be known that this was completely unavoidable.  All you had to do was keep it in your pants!  That was it!  And hell, had she said yes--  you could’ve had at it!  Gone like little bunny rabbits for all I cared!  But that’s not how it happened, is it?”   Whatever playfulness entered his voice was gone when he spoke again.   “You’re a coward.  You’re a liar.  And you’re a rapist that decided to mess with the wrong woman.  You have no business here.  You’re nothing  -  and you deserved this.”

     The way he stabbed him could have been described as intimate.  The glass of the broken bottle slid into his neck much like a patient lover would his partner;  perhaps serving as a final reminder as to how he should have handled his women.  Edgar listened to him choke and splutter, a hand clawing loosely at one of his pant legs before it dropped to the ground, his body slowly going limp.  As Edgar released his grip on his hair, the body collapsed at his feet with a sad slumped sound--  like a small bag of stones hitting the bottom of a river.  You were dead long before that, Edgar thought as he stared emotionlessly at the dead man before him--  still with his pants around one of his ankles like a fool.  I’m not like you.  I granted you mercy even though you deserved none.

    The glass was put down on the table gently, as if he was afraid to smash it further, hands humming with energy as the high of the kill slowly sank into his bones.  Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t have found as much enjoyment in that as he did.  It was supposed to be a business endeavour;  a prod in the right direction.  He was supposed to take his life and leave, not linger and make a mess, but it seemed that he just couldn’t help himself.

    I have needs too,  he thought, circling the table as he considered how best to proceed. However he did, he knew that he had one hell of a clean-up on his hands.  The Vide task force was lazy, but he knew that Kuro had given some of their officials a swift kick up the backside. Some of them would care about this case, if only for a little while.  The last thing he needed to do was leave any trace of himself behind

    A hand hesitated before flipping his cards back over.  Upon seeing them, he winced, the smile stretching back across his face.  It’s just as well I didn’t come solely to play.  I would have lost.

[an-upset-librarian]

Stardust and Fire -- Chapter 8

I bring you a gift, the next chapter of my nalu au! Please enjoy, and feel free to reblog and let me know what you think! Thanks!

AO3        FFN

Chaos.

             The members of Fairy Tail had only a moment to prepare before the dark shades attacked. Lucy, Natsu, Erza and Gray were unlucky enough to be caught outside the barrier surrounding the guild, which was flickering back to life as Mira and a few others poured their energy into it.

             The actual guild building was in the isolated warehouse district of Magnolia, far away from the prying eyes of the city, with portal access doors spread throughout the city. Somehow, Jose had found the true location of Fairy Tail and was now ready to attack.

The canal leading to the harbor snaked around the city, circling down to the eastern side of the guild and out towards the horizon. Across from the canal, near the edge of the crumbling warehouses, was Phantom Lord’s castle, the enormous canon’s muzzle now pointed directly at the remainder of the crumbling guild.  

             “Natsu, Gray, Elfman! We need to disable that canon!” Erza shouted as she dashed through the air, destroying enemies with every sweep of her mighty sword. Natsu glanced over at Lucy, clearly not wanting to leave her when Phantom Lord was still planning on taking her by force. She pushed the fire Drakon towards the fighting and forced herself to smile.

             “Go. The guild needs you. I’ll be fine,” She said, hoping he couldn’t sense her true intentions. While she hoped he would be victorious in destroying the canon, she knew there was a chance they would fail, and Jose would succeed in taking her captive. A small part of her insisted that she run right up underneath the castle and demand Jose stop his attack, but rationally she knew he would never let Fairy Tail survive no matter what she did.

             Natsu hesitated, glancing between the castle, where Erza and the others were charging, and her. Lucy pursed her lips, then pulled the drakon towards her and embraced him. She wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled into the crook of his neck with a sad smile.

             “Go. I’ll be fine,” she murmured against his skin. Natsu returned her embrace, nosing her hair for a moment before turning and running into the fray. Lucy’s hand caught on his pants pocket, and she blinked away, tears pooling in her eyes.        

             “I know you’ll keep them safe,” She muttered to herself, her fingers brushing against her beltloop, searching for the familiar warmth of her keys.

******

             Natsu quickly caught up to Erza and the others along the river’s edge. A disembodied voice echoed through the air again and said, “Charging Jupiter canon, twelve minutes until activation.”

             The dark energy swirling around the barrel of the canon intensified, and a horde of Phantom Lord creatures and mages poured from the legs of the fortress and came barreling towards Fairy Tail along with another wave of Jose’s malicious Shades.

             “I’m all fired up!” Natsu howled, spinning and roaring a great wall of flames from his gaping maw, incinerating the Shades near him in a flash. As he was turning, he saw a glimpse of gold in his peripheral vision. Lucy. An intense desire to protect her rose from within him and he let out a great, rumbling roar from his throat, his whole body encased in flames.

             Natsu had been bubbling with red hot energy ever since he failed to get to protect Lucy from being kidnapped by Phantom Lord’s goons. Seeing the horror and fear on her face after rescuing her from the dark tower only served to intensify his rage. Witnessing the fall of Gramps, the greatest and most powerful mage he’d ever met, served to fan the raging inferno within him. He could barely control his magic in the minutes before the attack on the guild. His dragon fire itched to wreak destruction and havoc on his enemies, the ones that made Lucy cry.

             The memory of Lucy walking out of the shattered guild doors and climbing over the debris to surrender herself to Phantom Lord still haunted him. She looked so small and vulnerable, walking all alone in utter defeat. While Natsu wasn’t the most emotionally mature in the guild- he never was good at understanding human emotions- he knew that Lucy believed Fairy Tail would abandon her and send her off to be tortured by that bastard Jose. Ever since she’d leapt from that tower, a darkness haunted her normally sparkling brown eyes, and Natsu never wanted to see her light snuffed out ever again.

             Fueled by anger and the desire to keep his family safe, Natsu grappled with the Shades, easily destroying them with the heat of his draconic fire. He soon caught up to Erza and the others, who had paused by the river’s edge.

             “Natsu, Gray, Elfman, I’m counting on you to go and destroy that canon. Look for a central power console, or destroy the power source,” The Valkyrie instructed. Gray, who had already stripped off his shirt, unbuttoned his pants and pounded his fists together, sending a spiraled volley of ice lances out at the surrounding Shades.

             “What are you gonna do?” Gray asked, unzipping his pants and pulling one leg out.

             “Gray, your clothes,” Erza deadpanned, sending the icicle scrambling to pull his pants back up and look around for his shirt, before saying, “I’m staying here on the front lines. I’ll take care of the first round of enemies and be here in case you don’t succeed and the canon fires.”

             “Well sucks for you, Titania, you don’t get to be the martyr today. We’ll destroy that canon,” Natsu huffed. Elfman grunted his agreement before shouting about Erza’s manliness. The scarlet haired woman just smiled and shook her head before leaping into the air to attack the Shades flying above them.

             “Hey, flame-brain, I bet I’ll be the one to destroy the power source,” Gray said, a challenge glinting in his dark, slanted, eyes.

             “Oh yea? You’re on, ice-princess. I’ll burn you to ash,” Natsu said, summoning his flames to his fists and running off to the castle with a cackle.

             Once he was in the thick of the horde, Natsu lost track of Elfman and Gray, save for the occasional beastly roar and surge of cold bursting from within the battle. Soon he lost track of how many Shades he’d destroyed. They just kept coming and coming. For each one he destroyed, three more seemed to take its place.

             Eventually, he reached one of the legs of the walking castle, and he quickly shimmied up the metal and punched his way through the metal and stone to breach the fortress.

             “Ha! Take that, Gray!” He cheered, twirling and sending a great roar of fire down the hall he’d entered. What few Phantom Lord mages attacked him were soon tossed out of the fortress or knocked out cold by his fists.

             “Natsu, it’s Warren. I’m coordinating the communications. Have you found the power source yet?” Warren’s voice echoed inside his mind. Wincing, Natsu answered, saying he was in the castle and searching now. He hated telepathy. It always gave him a headache. He grabbed the closest smoldering body from the floor, shaking the mage and demanding to know where the Jupiter canon power source was.

             “Tch, useless son of a bitch,” He cursed, tossing the unconscious form to the side like a ragdoll. He screamed his way through the labyrinthine halls of the fortress until he eventually found an important looking steel door near the corner of the building. He easily melted the metal and crawled into the room, smiling when he saw a control panel with blinking lights and switches and buttons. With a victorious whoop, he quickly destroyed the panel with a fiery kick, then burst through the window leading to a larger antechamber above the destroyed control panel. Within the large, white room was a gigantic, glowing lacrima crystal.

             “Fuck,” He muttered. It would take a while to destroy such a large lacrima, but Natsu wasn’t one for giving up. He sucked in a deep breath of air, and reached for the burning fire within him and roared, “Fire Dragon’s Roar!”

             A great spiral of magical flame burst from his mouth and encased the lacrima crystal and destroying the surrounding machinery. When his flames died down, Natsu’s smile turned to a frown. The crystal had only cracked, not shattered like he’d hoped. With another string of curses, the drakon started attacking the crystal, punching and kicking at the cracks until finally, after what seemed like forever, the crystal shattered. Panting, he wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed.

             “Haha! Hey, Warren, I destroyed the lacrima! The canon should be good and dead now,” He said. His smile soon faded when he heard the distant voice announce, “Charging Jupiter canon, Five minutes until activation.”

             “Natsu! There’s four lacrima crystals in each corner of the castle! Gray told me he defeated the Water Woman and turned her to our side. She helped him destroy one of them, and you destroyed the second so that’s good. I haven’t heard from Elfman yet, so there’s still two more crystals! Hurry up, I don’t know how much longer we can hold out here,” Warren said quickly. Scowling, Natsu climbed back out of the chamber and back into the hallway.

             “Fuck, I can’t believe that stupid icicle beat me,” He muttered, taking his frustrations out at the nearest wall, creating another hole in the fortress. If Warren was right and there were four crystals in four corners of the castle, the simplest way to get to the next one was a straight line. That icy bastard probably found one of the lacrima’s right away and didn’t get lost like he did, the asshole.

             “Wait! He cheated! He had help. Man, when I see that bastard again I’m gonna beat him up,” Natsu screamed. For some reason, what Warren said about a water woman really irked him, but he couldn’t remember why.

             “Fuck this stupid castle, I wanna get Gramps magic back,” He growled. He cracked his knuckles, then turned to face the wall directly across from the room with the lacrima. With a roar of fury, he smashed his way through the wall, emerging into another hallway. He ran in a straight line, destroying every obstacle in his path. He was bound to find one of the lacrima’s eventually, right?

*****

             The moment Natsu disappeared from her side, Lucy suddenly wished she’d kept her keys. While it was a necessary precaution, in case Jose managed to get his grubby hands on her, she missed the familiar weight on her hip. Now she was powerless against the army of Shades rushing towards her and the rest of the guild. She reached down to test the levels of her magic, and was surprised to see that they were already fully replenished. She felt a kernel of warmth bloom in her chest and spread through her body. Lucy had an idea of where that little smidge of magical energy had come from, and decided to have a stern conversation with a pink haired drakon after all this nonsense was dealt with.

             Thinking of Natsu gave her an idea. Just because she couldn’t summon her spirits didn’t mean she didn’t have magic. Levy mentioned that demi-fae had heightened strength and some manipulation of their magic in the physical world, like how Levy could use her Solid-Script spells to create things. Lucy closed her eyes and clenched her fists, then cast her mind down into the well of power inside her. She pulled the magic energy from its ball inside of her and channeled it into her fist. She needed a weapon, so she asked her magic to make one for her. The image of Erza summoning a sword from seemingly nowhere flashed in her mind, and Lucy felt her arm tingle as her magic flowed down to her right hand.

             Please, I can’t be defenseless. How am I supposed to protect anyone if I can’t even fight on my own? She asked herself. Her magic seemed to purr in response, and the tingling of her arm disappeared and something heavy and metallic formed in her hand. She opened her eyes and smiled at the object in her hand.

             She held the hilt of a golden short sword composed of light itself. She could hear a faint hum emanating from the blade. The pommel was a clear stone in the shape of a seven-pointed star, and the grip was perfectly formed to her hand. The sword was the perfect weight, not to heavy or too light. The cross guard curved elegantly upwards. The blade itself was composed of brilliant golden starlight and shimmering sparks hovered around the blade. The dark Shades flying towards her stopped and let out a high-pitched screech when the light of her weapon struck them. Smiling, Lucy tightened her grip on the sword and experimentally swung it around.

             She had no idea how to use a sword, but it seemed simple. Just stab and slash. What could go wrong?

             Her plan worked for a few minutes, until the exhaustion of using her magic as a weapon in the physical world started to take its toll. Thankfully, whatever kind of magic the blade was composed of was extremely effective against the Shades. The moment her blade touched them, they screamed and dissolved away into nothingness.

             “…five minutes until activation.” Echoed the voice. Scowling, Lucy retreated to the guild to fight alongside her fellow mages. A swarm of cards flew past her head and slammed into the Shades surrounding the blonde, exploding with a flash of brilliant light and incinerating the Shade’s they touched.

             “Lucy!” Cana called, reaching out and grabbing her by the arm and dragging her back into the guild building.

             “Woah, wicked sword,” She commented. Lucy smiled tiredly at the card user. The fortune teller’s gaze focused past her head and with a frown, she pushed Lucy down towards the ground and yelled, “Card Magic: Starlight!” and summoned another wave of cards crashing into the wall of Shades creeping up on the doorway.

             “Lucy!” Mira’s voice called. Lucy turned and saw the barmaid standing with the other guild members, Bisca and Alzack firing their rifles at her side, destroying a Shade with each bullet.

             “What were you thinking, running out to surrender like that?” Mira yelled, pulling the blonde in for a tight hug. As soon as she touched Lucy’s skin, Mira recoiled with a hiss of pain.

             “Mira, what’s wrong?” Lucy asked. Mira only glanced down at the glowing blade and at the webbing of light spreading from her right hand and encasing the rest of her body.

             “Your Celestial magic and my demonic magic don’t mix,” She explained with a light laugh. Lucy raised a brow and glanced down at the light encasing her.        

             “Is that what this is?” She asked quietly. It made sense. Since she summoned spirits from the Celestial realm, she must be using Celestial magic. She made a mental note to ask Levy for books on the types of Celestial magic when all of this was over. With a jolt, Lucy realized that she planned on getting through this fight alive and with Fairy Tail. Before, when Jose demanded her and threatened the guild with the Jupiter canon, she’d lost all hope of maintaining her freedom. She’d never had a family that was willing to risk their lives for hers, and when Erza and the others came forward to fight for her Lucy had felt a wave of indescribable emotion wash over her.

             She was a mage of Fairy Tail. She had a family that would always fight by her side, and she vowed to always fight alongside theirs. Her magic hummed in response, and the sword glowed brighter with her emotions.

             Lucy stumbled, feeling the drain as her energy was pulled into maintaining the physical manifestation of her magic power. She shook off the exhaustion and turned back to the horde of Shades swarming against the crumbling wards of the guild.

             “Charging Jupiter canon, three minutes until activation.”

             “Well, we’re fucked,” Cana said with a sigh. Lucy bit back a smile and tried not to laugh. They really were fucked. Soon, the laughter escaped and she was shaking from the force of it. Mira and Cana joined in, and eventually the entire guild was laughing at their situation.

             “Let’s go out with a bang,” Cana said with a flirty wink. Lucy felt her face flush at the insinuation and she adjusted her grip on the hilt of her short sword. Kinana and Porlyusica worked together on placing a quick protective barrier around the infirmary to protect those inside from any attacks, but it wouldn’t survive for more than a couple of hours, let alone a shot from the Jupiter canon.

             “Who knows, maybe they’ll destroy the canon at the last minute and we’ll all be saved,” Lucy said, drawing another laugh from the card mage.

             “Those three? When have they ever gotten anything done on time,” Cana laughed. Lucy found herself agreeing, despite only knowing them for a few weeks. She glanced nervously at the cracking and crumbling wards and bit her lip. She took a deep breath then lifted her starlight sword- she really needed to think of a name for the weapon.

             “Like Cana said, out with a bang,” She said, her voice echoing in the silent air. The calm before the storm was coming to an end, and soon those in the guild would have no choice but to charge forth into the fray. Bisca and Alzack shared a warm look and joined Lucy on the front line directly behind the barrier between them and the Shades.

             “I never thought I’d have to use this form again,” Mira whispered. Bright light encased the barmaid and her body transformed. Great bat-like wings extended from her shoulders and a deadly tail protruded from her lower back. Her hands morphed into sharp talons and her hair stood up on end in a drastic up-do. Lucy clamped her mouth shut after a moment, too surprised to say anything. Who knew that the innocent looking Mirajane was an actual demon.

             “Alright, everyone! I know the situation is dire, but we are mages of Fairy Tail! We do not ever give in, and we will prevail no matter the situation!” Mira shouted, drawing cheers from the crowd of previously disheartened mages. Her new demonic appearance seemed to fill their spirits.

             “Mira is actually one of the most powerful creatures in the guild,” Cana whispered in Lucy’s ear as explanation. Lucy tried to keep the shock on her face, but knew she failed when Mira gave her a shy smile.

             “Jupiter canon activation in 90 seconds.”

             “Let’s go!” Cana shouted, sending forth a volley of glowing cards that soared through the barrier and destroyed the chunk of Shades hovering at the edge. The moment the cards exploded, taking the Shades with them, the wards flashed, then crumbled under the attacks from the enemy.

             The moment the walls came down, both sides charged forward as volleys of magical attacks flew overhead. Lucy pushed her tired limbs to lift the short sword and charge alongside her comrades. Luckily for them, the few actual members of Phantom Lord that had come rushing to attack them soon fled at the sight of the near-complete symbol indicating how soon the canon would fire. They didn’t want to get caught in the blast and give their lives for their guild.

             “Jupiter canon activation in 45 seconds.”

             Lucy lost track of where she was or who she was with inside the swarm. She could vaguely hear Mira roaring as she destroyed the enemy, and the explosions of Cana’s starlight cards over the clash of her sword against the Shades. Soon she reached the river bed, where Erza hovered, destroying more Shades than Lucy could count with each sweep of her mighty sword.

             “Erza! Any word from the others?” Lucy called, growling at a Shade that came up behind her. She spun on her heel and slashed the Shade into nothingness.

             Erza looked at Lucy’s shining blade with a raised brow and a glint of envy in her eyes. Erza slowly joined Lucy and the others that had made it to the river; Mira, Cana, Alzack and Bisca, and Warren, to name a few.

             “I haven’t heard back from them yet, but a few minutes ago they said they only had one lacrima left to destroy,” Warren said with a shaky voice.

             “Jupiter canon activation in 15 seconds.”

             Erza scowled, and reequipped into a new armor. She was now clad head to toe in thick plated silver armor, and held two halves of one massive, spiked shield on each arm. She moved directly in the path of where the canon would fire, and told everyone to get behind her.

             “Erza, no! Not even you can stop it!” Mira shouted, her demonic form dissolving away until the normal, human looking woman was revealed.

             “I don’t have a choice! Listen to me, and get behind me!” The Valkyrie bellowed. In that moment, Lucy understood why the Vikings revered the Valkyries on the battlefield. Erza’s voice left no room for argument or disobedience.

             “Beginning countdown: Ten, nine,” The feminine voice echoed. The sigil around the end of the barrel of the muzzle disappeared, and a menacing purple glow emanated from within. Lucy felt hot tears well up in her eyes. She was worried about Natsu and the others. Who knew what kind of trouble they faced inside that cursed fortress. Erza stalked forwards into the river until she was knee deep and she slammed the shield into the ground and planted herself directly in front of the canon.

             “You will not harm my comrades!” She yelled. A blinding light radiated from the canon, and a pulsing wind shook the trees and sent a few of the abandoned warehouses crumbling to dust. Lucy felt herself being pushed back from the force and she thrust her blade into the earth to stop her movement. The power of the canon still had her struggling to maintain her position, the blade of her sword dragging through the earth. She gripped the hilt with both hands and tried to scream for Erza to step out of the direct path of the canon.

             “Six, five…”

             Her tears fell freely as she stared at Erza’s silhouette in the distance. She felt her throat go hoarse from screams, but couldn’t hear the sound at the great roar of the canon.

             “…one, now firing Jupiter canon.”

             All at once, the pressure dropped, causing Lucy’s ears to pop, and the waves of energy pulsing from the canon disappeared, sending Lucy toppling onto the ground, her sword slipping from her grasp. There was a blinding light and a resounding boom that sent her ears ringing, and Lucy watched as a brilliant purple ray of energy shot out of the canon, colliding directly with Erza’s shield. She had to cover her eyes from the brilliant flash as the armor clashed with the magical bolt, a high-pitched ringing piercing the air. Lucy went flying back towards the crumbled remains of the guild, dirt and grass tangling in her hair. She reached out and dug her fingers into the cold earth, desperate to find a handhold.

             The Valkyrie was pushed back, her feet digging into the soil, and the water from the river underneath the path of the canons fire vaporizing from the heat. Lucy knew she was screaming, but couldn’t hear her own voice over the sound of the canon blast colliding with Erza’s armor. The bolt of energy continued to press against the adamantine shield, and Lucy saw chunks of the magically charmed metal start to tear away. Lucy gazed on in horror as the shield cracked and crumbled, until it dissolved away entirely and Erza was struck by the Jupiter canon’s blast. The thick plated armor she wore shattered just like her shield, but took the brunt of the attack until there was nothing left to harm the guild.

             Silence fell. Erza was lying prone on the hard ground with the shards of her strongest armor scattered around her, left only in a sports bra and exercise shorts, her body bruised and bloody. Her arms were twisted around unnaturally, obviously broken in multiple places. Lucy quickly stumbled to her feet, only to have her knees give out and crash against the ground again. She crawled over to Erza’s body on her hands and knees, ignoring her sword that was still sticking out of the ground.

             “Erza, oh no, no,” She wailed, biting back her sobs. Lucy was too afraid to touch her fallen friend for fear of causing more damage. Hands shaking with rage, she glared up at the dark fortress in the distance. Snarling, she tried to get up and shake off the shock.

             Walking unsteadily, she grabbed her sword, smiling when the metallic blade started to hum in response to her touch and sparks of silver and golden light sprouted along the blade. At this point, Lucy didn’t care about how her magic reserves were running dangerously low, or that she was about to storm towards Phantom Lord despite the certainty that she would be captured and probably tortured for resisting them. She was completely motivated by the rage of seeing her close friend, the strongest person she knew, completely defeated and only thought of getting revenge.

             Luckily for her, Mira and the others were too busy dealing with the aftermath of the explosion to notice her stagger away. Most were stumbling over to Erza’s unconscious body, or back towards the guild to check on those still inside. Jose’s Shades had vanished when the canon fired, and all the Phantom Lord members had disappeared back into their fortress like cockroaches.

             Lucy started to walk to the distant castle, determined to get to Jose and give him a taste of her Celestial weapon. Somehow, she made it over to a pile of fallen stone, where an old and crumbling building once stood. She leaned against one of the boulders, cursing herself for her weakness. She had to become stronger if she wanted to protect her friends.

             “Come on, Lucy, you’ve got work to do. It’s time to give Jose a piece of your mind,” She muttered, pushing off the stone and tightening her grip on the hilt of her sword.

             “Gihi, I think the Master just wants your magic, girly,” A dark voice growled. Twirling around, Lucy found herself face to face with a towering figure with long, messy black hair. His red eyes gleamed in the light, and his sneer showed off his sharp fangs. He had piercings all over his body and face. Lucy wildly swung her sword, only to have the man grab the blade with a scaled hand. The metal scratched against his skin, and Lucy scrunched her brow in confusion.

             “Oh, this won’t work against me, it ain’t strong enough to get through my iron scales,” The man laughed, wrenching the short sword from her grip and tossing it to the side. “You really shouldn’t have wandered off alone.”

             Panicked, she backed away and turned to run, only to feel a hard rod strike the back of her head. As she fell, she heard the man’s maniacal laughter. Her head struck a stone jutting out of the ground, and all was black.  

[ff15trashgoldenslumbers]

Anniversary Drabbles

With a few anniversaries coming up for me, I figured why not throw the Chocobros into some lovely little romantic situations. 

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

Noctis

Dating the next Crown Prince does have its perks, you never really had to so much as ask for something, prior to it appearing in your apartment less than 30 minutes later. Like a pizza delivery service, but of gifts.

So on your and Noctis’ anniversary of dating, you didn’t really want to be spoiled, yet instead wished to show just how much you didn’t need all those artificial things, despite enjoying them greatly since they all served memories of precious times together. You just want to spoil your Prince the only way that you could.

You had awoken your sleeping beauty by littering a few kisses over his forehead, and cheeks, as he held you close in his sleep. It was already well beyond noon, and if you left it to him, this is how the entire anniversary would go.

“Y/n, five more minutes.” Noctis muttered, as he pulled the covers over both your heads.

You gave a laugh as you begun to lazily draw figures across his cheek, “Wake up, Noct. Are you gonna sleep the entire day away?”

Noctis gave a yawn, as he grabbed your hand pulling it to his face as he gave a soft nibble at your hand prior to placing a kiss to it. “That was part of the plan.” You gave an over dramatic pout as you rolled over, moving from the bed, “Fine, I guess you won’t get that nice gift I slaved over.”  You call as you moved into the bathroom.

Somehow you managed to get the Prince out the bed, and in a shower with you, prior to getting dressed. Nothing too out there, he was always so use to being dressed by the others, and having to suffer from stuffy suits, today, he was able to get away with a simple shirt and short set, while you placed on a nice summer dress.

You grabbed a late lunch, being sure that no vegetables came within reach of the Prince’s lips, with silent apologies to Ignis. It was getting dusk, by the time you were ready to reveal your grand prize. “Y/N, where are we going?” The now blindfolded Prince inquired as you lead him through a thick forest area, that Gladiolus told you about. “We’re almost there, just a little bit longer.” You called, back, firmly holding onto the young man’s hand so that he didn’t run into a tree, again. Having to hid a giggle, as he almost tripped on the sudden change from dirt to wood.  “Wait here.” Noctis waited in the dark, as he heard the slight heels of your shoes, echo across the wood. Hearing you shuffle around, before calling for him to remove the makeshift blindfold, his eyes adjusting as he stared ahead. You stood, holding a new fishing pole in an over glorified box,  in the middle of a gazebo set in the  middle of a very secluded lake. The rod was perfectly cast and balance, at least you hoped, you and Prompto spent 2 hours testing out rods.

“Happy Anniversary, Noct.”  You call, as Noctis stepped forward, reaching out, as he plucked the rod’s box from your hands. Confusing you as he turned placing it down on the railing, before gathering you in his arms. “Y/N.” He muttered against your hair. Being with Noctis for so long, you knew how he was about these kinds of things, and that he was super happy with the gift, as you returned the hug. “You’re welcome, come on let’s test it out!” Noctis slowly released you from the hug, when he began digging in his pants pocket trying to find something, only to pull out a small box. At first you thought it was a ring box, yet suddenly realized that it was too wide and long, as he opened it showing a tennis bracelet that matched the colors of his eyes perfectly. “I...I knew you were saving up for it.” He muttered, glancing away from your before looking at you beyond his eyelashes. A giggle escaped you, prior to pulling your boyfriend close, as you leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. Only pulling away so that he could clasp it to your wrist, brushing his bangs from his face so that you could compare the blues, amazed at how well they matched, your other hand grabbing his as you pulled him forward. “Come on, we can stay as long as you want.” You smiled, walking over to his new fishing rod, as you removed it from it’s box, as you held it toward your prince. Only to gasp as his hands found your waist, picking you up, as he placed you on the wood railing, before leaping up next to you. A nice cast sent out, as he wrapped an arm around your waist, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. Both of you watching the sun set on the lake, as the stars begun to appear. “I love you, my Prince.” Noctis pressed a kiss to your temple, “I love you, my Princess.”

Prompto You honestly had no idea where your adorable sunshine of a boyfriend managed to find all this unlimited energy. Last night when he came home from his Kingdom duties, you had surprised him with matching Chocobo carnival t-shirts to go to the amusement park that had opened, for your anniversary.

The noise he made was very similar to the large yellow bird yet more pitched, before he gather you in his arms and begun littering your face in kisses. He than proceeded to keep you both up until 3 am showing how excited and grateful he was, that you set aside a four day weekend for the two of you to spend at the amusement park together. “What do you want to try first, y/n?” Prompto beamed, as you both entered the gates, his large blue eyes shining in the sun.

“Whatever you want to do,” You smiled back, his smile still held that charm that made you beam back just as hard as when you first started dating. Almost regretting giving him free rein,when he took off in a fast pace leading you through the small early morning crowd. Four roller coasters, three spinning rides, and a water ride later, you both found yourselves  getting hungry as you found a nice little stall that you split some food between the two of you. Only noticing the strange look on the blonde's face as he stared at something across the square. “What’s wrong?” “Stay right here.” He smiled, placing a kiss to your cheek, before bounding across the square rather quickly.

By the time you had finished the last of you drink, the blonde had returned with a large bag, as he fished inside before producing two very goofy but adorable hats, that had a chocobo design in the front and a moogle on the back. All you could do is stare, as he handed the hat to you, realizing that he had also gotten them embroidered with your names. “Prom,” You giggled, as you noticed the shine begin to fade from his eye, only to quickly reach up removing you high ponytail as you pulled it on. “How do I look?”

“So cute!” Prompto beamed, as he put on his matching hat.

“That’s no fair, you look so much cuter.” You pout playfully, only to break into giggles, as he begun littering your cheeks with kisses.

The actual day of your anniversary fell that Saturday, so you made sure to schedule the most important part on that day. Instead of going to main park, you instead provided the blonde with a matching jacket, knowing the blonde didn’t believe in sleeves, not that you didn’t mind. Handing him, his camera, and dawning you matching hats, having to laugh at the fact you had become that embarrassing matching couple.

You lead him to another part of the park, as it was split into three different areas, and you had spent all of yesterday in the amusement park, today you’d be going to the adventure trails and judging by how giddy the blonde had become he knew exactly where you were leading him.

The second he saw the Chocobos you knew that you had lost him, and he of course picked the black one by the name of ‘Cupcake’ and picked you out the cute purple one by the name of ‘Muffin’. Everything in you knew he had picked them mostly because of the silly names.

“Y/n! Look at that!” He pointed toward the large horned animals currently drinking from a watering hole.

“Super cute!” You called back, “Turn left up ahead, Sweetheart.”

The large birds led you up the trail to look over a cliff side, both of you dismounting as you got a much closer look to the overview of the park.

“Sweetie, I have to get a picture of you with this background!” Prompto called, as you moved to the area where he was currently focusing his camera.

“Don’t you think that it would be better with the two of us together?” You coo, as he balanced his camera on some rocks, setting the timer, as you both begun your own own impromptu photo shoot, which was of course just became more ridiculous as it went on, only to stop as you felt your phone vibrate.

“Who’s that?” Prompto asked.

“I’ve got one more surprise for you, but we have to head back to the hotel.”

A quick rush back to the hotel, found that dinner was waiting for you which was enjoyed with light laughter, and soft hand holding and reviewing the pictures of today’s hike. As dessert was being cleared, you were surprised when Prompto’s hand rolled over as he pushed something cold in your hand, only to gasp at the small ring. Obviously not an engagement ring, yet a promise ring.

“I know we haven’t talked about it a lot, but I know that one day...one day i’m going to see you down that aisle.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as he slipped the ring on your right ring finger, as you moved the candle from between you, you didn’t need another repeat of that incident, as you pressed your lips against his. Pulling away, as you whispered against his lips, “Meet me in the room in 15 minutes.”

By the time you heard your boyfriend slide his card into the lock, you had time to jump onto the bed hopefully in a very sensual pose.

“Y/n, are you...Holy Six.” Prompto gasped, as he stood in the doorway.

A smile tugged at your lips, as you glanced over you shoulder, wearing what only could be described as bunny girl costume that had a baby with a chocobo, shaking your large tail feathers at your boyfriend, as you cooed softly. Prompto finally took a step within the room, his  eyes trained on your’s before glancing to your breasts  enhanced by the push up in the top, down your sides, to your bare legs, large “feather”s covering your butt as you gave a wiggle, giving a giggle as his eyes followed the movement.

“Prompto,” You cooed, moving rather graceful from the bed, considering how heavy the tails were, as you moved across the room putting an extra sway in your hips.

“Bab..holy...just shit.” Prompto muttered, as you stopped just outside his reach.

You reach out to his hand holding his camera, as you raise it, ““Why not take a picture, it will last longer.” You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling at how entranced he was at you, his eyes never leaving your own as he began snapping picture after picture. Giving him your own private show, as you used almost every inch of the room as your photo shoot, and the looks Prompto kept giving you over the lense just seemed to fuel your fire.

After about the 20 minute mark, you reached forward plucking the camera from the blonde’s hands, setting it on the desk behind him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, as you gave half lidded eyes, pulling him forward, as you hummed softly to the tune of the Chocobo march.

“Please ride your chocobo all day.”

Prompto’s face lite up, as his freckles disappeared into a blush, as he moved forward pushing his lips to your own, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Picking you up with ease, as he stumbled to grab purchase under your tail feathers, as he stumbled to the bed, both of you falling to the bed as he proceed to do just that.

Gladiolus

Today was suppose to be perfect! Today was suppose to be so freakin’ perfect! But no, some deity of nature had it against you!

You had finally managed to get Gladiolus, your big lug of a boyfriend, to take the weekend off to go do his favorite thing in the world, that wasn’t you of course. Yet NATURE had it out for you, you personally! It was suppose to be a relaxing weekend to celebrate your anniversary, that actually happened a few weeks ago, but life happens.

Your trip started super early in the morning about 6 am, so you could both drive out to the mountain areas surround Insomnia. You had got to the camping ground and set up camp, prior to Gladdy, suggesting to go on a morning hike to watch as nature came alive, super romantic!

Not being a huge fan of nature to start with, you enjoyed a nice walk in the park, but sleeping in a tent on the cold hard ground, was always a fight between you and the big nature lover that you fell for, yet somehow you always compromised, by you sleeping directly on top of the big guy. Not that either of you complained as you both did it at home too.  

“Y/n! Come look at this!” Gladdy called so cheerfully, already up the incline you were currently marching up. He never went out of sight, but the guy’s long legs, and eagerness allowed him to scale it much easier than yourself.

While you trailed behind him, wheezing softly about how Mother Nature was a whore! Almost as if she was a jealous girlfriend trying to steal him back, yet you were determine to enjoy this weekend!

Reaching the top, as you grabbed ahold of his strong arm to balance yourself, you both went on morning jogs together every morning, but this was torture to you, only to realize why.

You saw all the flowers surrounding you, and you prayed to the Six that you remembered to take your allergy pill.

“Isn’t this great!” Gladdy boomed, “My favorite things, nature, and…”

You’re not entirely certain why you jumped, you should have been used to it, as he grabbed a large hand full of your ass. “Gladdy!”

The tall man chuckled as he gave the cheek a swat before leaning down to place a kiss to your cheek, as you both gazed out to the wilderness before you. Even you had to admit, Mother Nature may have been a whore, but at least she was a very high class whore.

Yet that was quickly forgotten, when after Gladdy had suggested you guys keep going and seeing how far you could get before you settled down for a picnic lunch. Which just so happened to be in a field, that was quickly inhabited by a huge woolly creature that you didn't get to identify as it charged toward the both of you obviously upset that you both decided to enjoy a romantic early lunch together.

You knew you had nothing to worry about,  as you were with the King’s Shield, but when 3 of them are charging at the two of you it was rather difficult not to let a few shrieks escape as you ducked and dodged out the way of the attacks, not wanting to hurt the animals as in all rights you were invading their home. While you lovely boyfriend, seemed to be having the time of his life, laughing and evening goading the beast on as you were fighting for your life!

The two of you made your way back to you campsite, covered in mud and sweat, and Gladdy just had to take a shortcut, which of course in Gladdy-nese meant the longest way possible. So about a quarter of the way there you were suddenly caught in a downpour! No warning, just rain!

“Looks like we won’t need a shower tonight.” Gladdy chuckled, as stared angrily at the sky.

When you reached you campsite, you wanted to shriek, you were cold, you were wet, and your campsite was in tatters, because a roost of random Chocobos decided that they did not agree with your choice of camping supplies and destroyed everything!  At least the cooler full of food lived.

“Well that’s no good.” Gladdy muttered before walking over to the cooler, easily moving it to his shoulder as he took your hand in his other. “I saw a cabin a little further back, let’s go see if it’s empty.”

You couldn’t do anything but allow the big guy to pull you along to the cabin, it was luckily empty, and seemed to be part of the park as a honeymoon location, that you wanted to spend the perfect anniversary with your boyfriend and as luck would have it, currently unlocked and fully stocked.

You managed to towel off, but found that your frizzy wet hair was beyond saving without any haircare products. All you wanted to do now was climb into your Gladdy’s lap, and stay there until this horrid weekend was over.

“Gladdy?”

“Out front babe!”

You head out front to the porch, surprised to see the man had actually found a hammock and it managed to support his weight without bringing down the support beams. What you wouldn’t have given to see him struggle to get in it.

“There’s plenty of room.” He chuckled, patting his chest, knowing that you couldn’t say no to cuddling up with your favorite bed.  His laughter only becoming louder as you clamored to get in, before curling up in his arms. “Well today was eventful.”

You gave a soft pout as you nuzzled into his chest, listening to the sound of his heart and the rain falling around you. “It was suppose to be perfect.”

“It wasn’t?”

You gave a full pout as you buried your head in his chest, feeling frustrated tears trying to escape, “Everything was suppose to go smoothly, but everything kept getting ruined, my allergies, those large animals, and the tent.”

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your allergies were acting up. Are you okay?”

You quickly buried your head in his chest, as tears began falling, it wasn’t like you to cry, but you were so frustrated and angry at this point, “They weren’t that bad…” You cry weakly, hoping that he didn’t realize your tears were falling, only to gasp as a large hand found it’s way to the back of your messy, rain frizzed hair causing you to look up at him.

“Y/N, any moment I spend with you is perfect. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” He chuckled, giving you a large boyish smile.

You want to pout, you wanted to, but his smile was so genuine and so reassuring, you had to bury your head back into his chest to avoid the embarrassing schoolgirl giggle that fell from your lips as the tears turned to joy.

“But a cup of ramen wouldn’t hurt.”

A loud bark of laughter left you, only to turn into a shriek of surprise, as he managed to pick you up and leap out the hammock all in one motion without a stumble. Had you tried alone, you would have easily landed on your ass.

“Where we going?” You ask, as he held you in the crook of his arm, before fishing around in his pocket, pulling out a necklace very similar to his own. You often toyed and batted at it, when you laid cuddled on his chest.

“Hope you don’t mind if we’re one of those dorky couples with matching jewelry.”  He replied, as he sat you down, before securing it around your neck. ���Perfect.”

Standing on the tips of your toes, you reached up, singling that you wanted the tall man to pick you up. Allowing you to sit on his forearm the other arm, keeping you from toppling backwards, facing him, you arms securely around his neck, legs braced against his sides as you placed a kiss against his lips, “Just like you.”

“Now why don’t we go find a way to warm the both of us up.” He smirked, as you rested your forehead against his. “You ever did it in the rain?”

“No,” You muttered, “But I’d like to give it a try.”

Ignis

It wasn’t often that you managed to sneak out of bed, as well as get up early enough to surprise Ignis. You often joked that the sun couldn’t rise without the man to wake it up, yet today you managed to do so. Smiling through a yawn as you shuffled the eggs around the skillet before you, it was suppose to be an omelet, but something happened and now you have scrambled eggs.

“Good morning, my love.” Ignis’ deep voice echoed in your ear, as felt a thrill go down your spine, the husky voice made even more so as he was still shaking off sleep.

“Good morning,” You whisper back, as he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you close, as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “I have some ebony on the table for you.”

“What would I do without you?” He smiled, placing a kiss to your cheek, as he sat down at the small two seated kitchen table.

You coo softly, as you load two plates, walking over to the table, setting his down as you swept his bangs aside placing a kiss to his forehead.

The two of you often didn’t talk through breakfast, instead choosing to enjoy it in each other company. You had already started the day off rather late, at least late to the two of you. Since you begun dating the tall sandy blonde, you knew he was a man of schedules, and this was the only day he ever requested off.

Well not so much requested, as Noctis forced him to take it off, explaining that nothing he, Prompto and Gladiolus did could be so bad that he couldn’t fix it when he got back. Aside from the Chocobo incident which still brought a chuckle from the two of you.

“What are our plans for the day?” You asked, picking up the empty plates as you deposited them in the sink.

“As it’s so nice outside, why don’t we enjoy the weather?” He suggested, as held out his hand, leading you to the bathroom, where the two of you enjoy a nice warm shower together.

“Where to, dear?” You asked, as you both exited the house, linking your arm in his. He wasn’t much for public shows of affection, which worked for you, simple hand holding, or linked arms allowed you to get  what you needed. Besides in private you got all the Ignis you could want.

“I plan to spoil you, my darling cupcake.”

You gave a playful pout, “Iggy, we’re suppose to share this day.”

“I’m honored to do so, and by seeing my love spoiled, means everything to me, my love” He replied, as he lead you toward the shopping area of Insomina.

You had to admit the man was poet with his words, no man so tall, suave and handsome should be real, yet here he was leading you in a boutique.

“Iggy!” You gasp, as he released your arm, pulling you hand to his lips as he gave a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’ll shall return in about 2 hours time, enjoy yourself, my heart.” He stated, before whisking himself out the door.

You wanted to be upset, and you want to pout, but found it so difficult to be upset when he called you those adorable pet names. Noctis, Prompto, and Gladiolus often joked that he only did it because he forgot your name and was to embarrassed to ask you. Yet you knew deep down that the man knew more about you, than you did yourself. Yet as your relationship blossomed and bloomed, you realized he did it so that he could always know when something was wrong.

“Mrs. Scientia, your husband has everything picked out, all you have to do is relax.”

“My husband…” You mutter softly, only to feel your face burn at the thought, yet couldn’t bring yourself to tell her any different as you were lead through the boutique.

Just as he agreed, Ignis had arrived in time to pick you within 2 hours, wearing a very suave black suit and matching burgundy tie to go with the dress he had picked out for you.

“My dear, you look absolutely, radiant.”  Ignis smiled, taking you hand in his, as he lead you to the nice restaurant down the street.

Of course the meal held nothing to the type of dining you received from Ignis everyday, yet it was nice to enjoy a sweet candle lit dinner with the perfection that was the man before you. A bright smile on your ruby lips never seemed to linger, as the man linked his fingers with your own.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, no simply admiring you, my love.”

You may have just been emotional but you felt your eyes perk with tears as you grip on his hand tighten.Only to realize that he had shifted his hand to find something cupped under his hand, realizing it was a small red box, leave it to him to have that slight of hand.

“I wish I could provide you the moon, yet all I can do is give you this small little rock.”

“Iggy.” You smiled, as you opened the box, showing a rather decent sized pendant hanging on a necklace. Looking closer to see it had your and Ignis’ initials around it.

“So that you know you are always within my heart.” He replied, moving to stand behind you to put the necklace on you. It rested the perfect length to never  get caught in your clothing. “Shall we retire home for the evening?”

Linking your arm into the tall man’s, you balanced in your heels to stand tip toe as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, being certain to avoid  leaving a red kiss mark against him.

The dark evening air was perfect as he lead you home, providing you his jacket at the soft wind that blew through the streets. You we’re upset that the walk seemed so short, yet couldn’t control your joy as you entered the house, seeing he had planned dessert for the two of you to share together at home, all of the living room furniture moved out the room.

The atmosphere lite by fake candles, as a soft waltz echoed through the stereo system, wondering just how exactly that he could set all this up. Gasping as he removed his suit jacket from your shoulders to hang up before gracefully turning to you.

“My love, may I have this dance?” He asked, holding out his hand, at a slight bow.

You turned placing a manicured hand within his own large strong hand. “I would love nothing more.”

Pulling you to the center of the room, Ignis pulled you in a soft waltz, putting you in a spin, as he pulled you closer to himself than the dance required. Resting your head against his shoulder, you closed your eyes, imagining nothing more than being in this perfect moment. Gasping as he gave you a slight dip, opening your eyes when you noticed that he at some point within the dance had removed his glasses so you could stare in those beautiful green eyes undistrubed, as he leaned forward into the dip, pushing his lips against your own.

“Happy anniversary, y/n.”

“Happy anniversary, Ignis.” You smiled, back as he pulled you back up, into another waltz as the next song came on. “Should we get to dessert?”

“My dear, I have something else in mind for dessert.”

[forestwater87]

John Dies at the End -- David Wong

So okay this is literally the best book I’ve ever read, but there’s really no way to explain “drug that lets you see into other dimensions turns two assholes into the worst exorcists ever” that doesn’t make it sound a little lame, so fuck it. I’m typing up the entire goddamn prologue.

If you need something to read, just . . . try it. It’s amazing. Try the book that the author calls a “convoluted NyQuil fever dream of a horror story,” “a Class II biohazard,” “the unholy thing I was growing in my brain’s murky cloning vat,” a “gruesome hyperactive chain of absurd non sequiturs,” “a crash between two semi trucks hauling napalm and vibrators,” “400 pages of undiagnosed personality disorder,” a “150,000-word cry for help,” “a hallucinogenic cacophonous Mardi Gras of fart monsters,” and “a 400-page tour through my misfiring synapses.”

Seriously, everyone. A work of fucking genius.

Prologue

SOLVING THE FOLLOWING riddle will reveal the awful secret behind the universe, assuming you do not go utterly mad in the attempt. If you already happen to know the awful secret behind the universe, feel free to skip ahead.

Let’s say you have an ax. Just a cheap one, from Home Depot. On one bitter winter day, you use said ax to behead a man. Don’t worry, the man was already dead. Or maybe you should worry, because you’re the one who shot him.

He had been a big, twitchy guy with veiny skin stretched over swollen biceps, a tattoo of a swastika on his tongue. Teeth filed into razor-sharp fangs—you know the type. And you’re chopping off his head because, even with eight bullet holes in him, you’re pretty sure he’s about to spring back to his feet and eat the look of terror right off your face. On the follow-through of the last swing, though, the handle of the ax snaps in a spray of splinters. You now have a broken ax. So, after a long night of looking for a place to dump the man and his head, you take a trip into town with your ax. You go to the hardware store, explaining away the dark reddish stains on the broken handle as barbecue sauce. You walk out with a brand-new handle for your ax. The repaired ax sits undisturbed in your garage until the spring when, on one rainy morning, you find in your kitchen a creature that appears to be a foot-long slug with a bulging egg sac on its tail. Its jaws bite one of your forks in half with what seems like very little effort. You grab your trusty ax and chop the thing into several pieces. On the last blow, however, the ax strikes a metal leg of the overturned kitchen table and chips out a notch right in the middle of the blade. Of course, a chipped head means yet another trip to the hardware store. They sell you a brand-new head for your ax. As soon as you get home, you meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded earlier. He’s also got a new head, stitched on with what looks like plastic weed-trimmer line, and it’s wearing that unique expression of “you’re the man who killed me last winter” resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday life. You brandish your ax. The guy takes a long look at the weapon with his squishy, rotting eyes and in a gargly voice he screams, “That’s the same ax that beheaded me!” IS HE RIGHT?

I WAS PONDERING that riddle as I reclined on my porch at 3:00 A.M., a chilled breeze numbing my cheeks and earlobes and flicking tickly hairs across my forehead. I had my feet up on the railing, leaning back in one of those cheap plastic lawn chairs, the kind that blow out onto the lawn during every thunderstorm. It would have been a good occasion to smoke a pipe had I owned one and had I been forty years older. It was one of those rare moments of mental peace I get these days, the kind you don’t appreciate until they’re ov— My cell phone screeched, the sound like a sonic bee sting. I dug the slim little phone from my jacket pocket, glanced at the number and felt a sickening little twinge of fear. I disconnected the call without answering. The world was silent again, save for the faint applause of trees rustling in the wind and crumbly dead leaves scraping lightly down the pavement. That, and the scuffle of a mentally challenged dog trying to climb onto the chair next to me. After two attempts to mount the thing, Molly managed to send the chair clattering onto its side. She stared at the toppled chair for several seconds and then started barking at it. The phone again. Molly growled at the chair. I closed my eyes, said an angry five-word prayer and answered the call. “Hello?” “Dave? This is John. Your pimp says bring the heroin shipment tonight, or he’ll be forced to stick you. Meet him where we buried the Korean whore. The one without the goatee.” That was code. It meant “Come to my place as soon as you can, it’s important.” Code, you know, in case the phone was bugged. “John, it’s three in the—” “Oh, and don’t forget, tomorrow is the day we kill the president.” Click. He was gone. That last part was code for, “Stop and pick me up some cigarettes on the way.” Actually, the phone probably was bugged, but I was confident the people doing it could just as easily do some kind of remote intercept of our brain waves if they wanted, so it was moot. Two minutes and one very long sigh later, I was humming through the night in my truck, waiting for the heater to blow warm air and trying not to think of Frank Campo. I clicked on the radio, hoping to keep the fear at bay via distraction. I got a local right-wing talk radio program. “I’m here to tell ya, immigration, it’s like rats on a ship. America is the ship and allllll these rats are comin’ on board, y’all. And you know what happens when a ship gets too many rats on board? It sinks. That’s what.” I wondered if a ship had ever really sunk that way. I wondered what was giving my truck that rotten-egg smell. I wondered if the gun was still under the driver’s seat. I wondered. Was there something moving back there, in the darkness? I glanced in my rearview mirror. No, a trick of the shadows. I thought of Frank Campo. Frank was an attorney, heading home from the office one evening in his black Lexus. The car’s wax job gleaming in the night like a shell of black ice, Frank feeling weightless and invincible behind the greenish glow of his dashboard lights. He senses a tingling on his legs. He flips on the dome light. Spiders. Thousands of them.

Each the size of a hand.

They’re spilling over his knees, pushing up inside his pant legs. The things look like they’re bred for war, jagged black bodies with yellow stripes, long spiny legs like needle points.

He freaks, cranks the wheel, flips down an embankment.

After they pried him out of the wreckage and after he stopped ranting, the cops assured him there wasn’t a sign of even one spider inside the car.

If it had ended there, you could write it off as a bad night, a trick of the eyes, one of Scrooge’s bad potatoes. But it didn’t end there. Frank kept seeing things—awful things—and over the months all the king’s doctors and all the king’s pills couldn’t make Frank’s waking nightmares go away.

And yet, other than that, the guy was fine. Lucid. As sane as a sunset. He’d write a brilliant legal brief on Wednesday, and on Thursday he’d swear he saw tentacles writhing under the judge’s robes.

So? Who do you go to in a situation like that?

I pulled up to John’s building, felt the old dread coming back, churning like a sour stomach. The brisk wind chased me to the door, carrying a faint sulfur smell blown from a plant outside town that brewed drain cleaner. That and the pair of hills in the distance gave the impression of living downwind from a sleeping, farty giant.

John opened the door to his third-floor apartment and immediately gestured toward a very cute and very frightened-looking woman on his sofa. “Dave, this is Shelly. She needs our help.”

Our help.

That dread, like a punch in the stomach. You see, people like Frank Campo, and this girl, they never came for “our help” when they needed a carburetor rebuilt.

We had a specialty.

Shelly was probably nineteen, with powder-blue eyes and the kind of crystal clear pale skin that gave her a china doll look, chestnut curls bundled behind her head in a ponytail. She wore a long, flowing skirt that her fingers kept messing with, an outfit that only emphasized how small she was. She had the kind of self-conscious, pleading helplessness some guys go crazy for. Girl in distress. Makes you want to rescue her, take her home, curl up with her, tell her everything is gonna be okay.

She had a white bandage on her temple.

John stepped into the corner of his tiny apartment that served as the kitchen and smoothly returned to place a cup of coffee in her hands. I struggled to keep my eyes from rolling; John’s almost therapist-like professionalism was ridiculous in a room dominated by a huge plasma-screen TV with four video game systems wired to it. John had his hair pulled back into a neat job-interview ponytail and was wearing a button-up shirt. He could look like a grown-up from time to time.

I was about to warn the girl about John’s coffee, which tasted like a cup of battery acid someone had pissed in and then cursed at for several hours, but John turned to her and in a lawyerly voice said, “Shelly, tell us your story.”

She raised timid eyes to me. “It’s my boyfriend. He . . . he won’t leave me alone. He’s been harassing me for about a week. My parents are gone, on vacation and I’m . . . I’m terrified to go home.”

She shook her head, apparently out of words. She sipped the coffee, then grimaced as if it had bit her.

“Miss—”

“Morris,” she said, barely audible.

“Ms. Morris, I strongly recommend a women’s shelter. They can help you get a restraining order, keep you safe, whatever. There are three in this city, and I’ll be happy to make the call—”

“He—my boyfriend, I mean—he’s been dead for two months.”

John cast a little gleeful glance my way, as if to say, “See how I deliver for you, Dave?” I hated that look. She went on.

“I—I didn’t know where else to go. I heard, you know, through a friend of mine that you handle, um, unusual problems.” She nudged aside a stack of DVD cases on an end table and sat the mug down, glancing at it distrustfully as if to remind herself not to accidentally drink from it again, lest it betray her anew. She turned back to me.

“They say you’re the best.”

I didn’t inform her that whoever called us “the best” had pretty low standards. I guess we were the best in town at this, but who would you brag to about that? It’s not like this shit has its own section of the phone book.

I walked over to a cushioned chair and scooped out its contents (four worn guitar magazines, a sketch pad, and a leather-bound King James Version of the Holy Bible). As I tried to settle in, a leg broke off and the whole chair slumped over at a thirty-degree angle. I leaned over nonchalantly, trying to look like that’s exactly what I had expected to happen.

“Okay. When he comes, you can see him?”

“Yes. I can hear him, too. And he, uh . . .”

She brushed the bandage on the side of her skull. I looked at her in bewilderment. Was she serious?

“He hits you?”

“Yes.”

“With his fist?”

“Yes.”

John looked up from his coffee indignantly. “Man, what a dick!”

I did roll my eyes this time and glared at John once they stopped. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a ghost, but I’m guessing that if you did, the thing didn’t run over and punch you in the face. I’m guessing that’s never happened to any of your friends, either.

“When it first happened,” Shelly said, “I thought I was going crazy. Up until now, I’ve never bel—”

“Believed in ghosts,” I finished. “Right.” That line was obligatory, everybody wanting to come off as the credible skeptic. “Look, Miss, I don’t want to—”

“I told her we would look into it tonight,” John said, heading me off before I accidentally introduced some rational thought into this thing. “He’s haunting her house, out in [town name removed for privacy]. I thought you and I could head over there, get out of the city for a night, show this bastard what’s what.”

I felt a burst of irritation, mostly because John knew the story was bullshit. But then it suddenly clicked in my mind that, yes, John knew, and he had called me because he was trying to set me up with this girl. Button-cute, dead boyfriend, chance to be her hero. As usual, I didn’t know whether to thank him or punch him in the balls.

Sixteen different objections rose up in my mind at once and somehow they all canceled each other out. Maybe if there had been an odd number. . . .

WE HEADED OUT, in my Bronco. We had told Shelly not to drive herself, in case she had a concussion, but the reality was that, whether or not her story was true, we still had vivid memories of Mr. Campo and his unusually spidery car. You see, Frank found out the hard way that the dark things lurking in the night don’t haunt old houses or abandoned ships. They haunt minds.

Shelly was in the passenger seat, hugging herself, looking blankly out the windshield. She said, “So, do you guys, like, do this a lot?”

“Off and on,” said John. “Been doing it for a few years.”

“How does somebody get into this?”

“There was an incident,” he said. “A series of incidents, I guess. A dead guy, another dead guy. Some drugs. It’s kind of a long story. Now we can see things. Sometimes. I have a dead cat that follows me around, wondering why I never feed it. Oh, and I had one hamburger that started mooing when I ate it.” He glanced at me. “You remember that?”

I grunted, said nothing.

It wasn’t mooing, John. It was screaming.

Shelly didn’t look like she was listening anymore.

“I call it Dante’s Syndrome,” John said. I had never heard him call it any such thing. “Meaning, I think Dave and I gained the ability to peer into Hell. Only it turns out Hell is right here, it’s all through us and around us and in us like the microbes that swarm through your lungs and guts and veins. Hey, look! An owl!”

We all looked. It was an owl, all right.

“Anyway,” I broke in, “we just did a couple of favors for people, eventually word got around.”

I felt like that was enough background and I wanted to stop John before he got to the part where he says he kept eating that screaming hamburger, down to the last bite.

I left the truck running as I jumped out at my place for supplies. I bypassed the house for the weatherworn toolshed in the backyard, opened the padlocked door and swept over the dark shelves with my flashlight:

A Winnie the Pooh toy with dried blood around its eyes;

A stuffed and mounted badgerconda (a cross between a badger and an anaconda);

A large Mason jar filled with cloudy formaldehyde, where inside floated a six-inch clump of cockroaches arranged roughly in the shape of a human hand.

I grabbed a medieval-style torch John had stolen from the wall of a theme restaurant. I picked up a clear squeeze bottle filled with a thick green liquid that immediately turned bloodred as soon as I touched it. I reconsidered, sat it back on the shelf and grabbed my vintage 1987 ghetto blaster instead.

I went into the house and called to Molly. I opened a small plastic tub in the kitchen cabinet filled with little pink, rubbery chunks, like erasers. I put a handful in my pocket and rushed back out the door, the dog following on my heels.

Shelly lived in a simple two-story farmhouse, black shutters on white siding. It sat on an island of turf in a sea of harvest-flattened cornfields. We walked past a mailbox shaped like a cow and saw a hand-painted sign on the front door that read THE MORRISON’S—ESTABLISHED 1962. John and I had a long debate at the door about whether or not that apostrophe belonged there.

I know, I know. If I had a brain, I would have walked away right then.

John stepped up, pushed open the front door and ducked aside. I dug in my pocket and pulled out one of the pink chunks. They were steak-shaped dog treats, complete with little brown grill lines. I realized at that moment that no dog would know what those grill lines were and that they were purely for my benefit.

“Molly!”

I shook the treat in front of her and then tossed it through the door. The dog ran in after it.

We waited for the sound of, say, dog flesh splattering across a wall, but heard only the padding of Molly’s paws. Eventually she came back to the door, grinning stupidly. We decided it was safe to go in.

Shelly opened her mouth as if to express some kind of disapproval, but apparently decided against it. We stepped into the dark living room. Shelly moved to flip on a light, but I stopped her with a hand motion.

Instead, John hefted the torch and touched his lighter to it. A foot-tall flame erupted from the head and we slowly crept through the house by its flickering light. I noticed John had brought along a thermos of his coffee, this “favor” already qualifying as an all-nighter. I admit, the horrific burning sensation really did keep you awake.

I asked, “Where do you see him, mostly?”

Shelly’s fingers started twisting at her skirt again. “The basement. And once I saw him in the bathroom. His hand, it, uh, came up through the toilet while I—”

“Okay. Show us the basement door.”

“It’s in the kitchen, but I—guys, I don’t wanna go down there.”

“It’s cool,” John said. “Stay here with the dog, we’ll go down and check it out.”

I glanced at John, figuring that should have been my line as her handsome new knightly protector. We clomped down the stairs, torchlight pooling down the stairwell. Shelly waited behind us, crouching next to Molly and stroking her back.

A nice, modern basement.

Washer and dryer.

A hot-water heater making a soft ticking sound.

One of those waist-deep floor freezers.

John said, “He’s not here.”

“Big surprise.”

John used the torch to light a cigarette.

“She seems like a nice girl, doesn’t she?” John said softly and with a kind of smarmy wink in his voice. “You know, she reminds me of Amber. Jennifer’s friend. When she came to my door, for a second I actually thought it was her. By the way, I wanna thank you for comin’ along, Dave, sort of being my wingman on this. I’m not saying I’m going to take advantage of her distress or anything, but . . .”

I had tuned John out. Something was off, I knew right then. Lingering in the back of my mind, like a kid in the last row of the classroom with his hand up. John was acting all detectivey now, leaning over a large sink with a bundle of white cloth draped over the side.

“Oh, yeah,” said John, pulling up a length of cloth. “Take a look at this shit.” The garment was white, a single piece with straps, like an apron. Well, it had been white. Once. Now it was mostly smudges of faded-blood pink at the center, like a kindergarten kid’s rendering of the Japanese flag.

I turned to the large floor freezer. That freaking dread again, cold and hard and heavy. I strode over and opened the lid.

“Oh, geez.”

It was a tongue. That’s the first thing I saw, rubbery and purplish and not quite human. It was longer, animal-like, twisted inside a ziplock bag and coated in frost. And it wasn’t alone; the freezer was filled with hunks of flesh, some in clear bags, some bigger chunks in pink-stained white paper.

Butcher paper. White apron.

“Well, I think it’s obvious,” said John. “Those stories of UFOs that go around mutilating cows? I think we just solved it, my friend.”

I sighed.

“It’s a deer, you jackass. Her dad hunts, apparently. They keep the meat.”

I nudged around and found a frozen turkey, some sausages. I closed the lid to the fridge, feeling stupid, though not for the reason I should have felt stupid. I wasn’t thinking. Too late at night, too little sleep.

John started poking around in cabinets. I glanced around for the boom box, realizing now that we hadn’t brought it down here. Why did that bother me? It was upstairs with Shelly, right?

“Hey, Dave. You remember that guy whose basement got flooded, then called us and swore he had a fifteen-foot great white shark swimmin’ down there?”

I did remember but didn’t answer, afraid of losing that thread of thought that kept floating just out of reach like a wayward balloon on a windy day. Besides, when we got there, it wasn’t a great white at all. Just a garden-variety eight-foot tiger shark. We told the guy to wait until the basement dried out and call us back. When the water left, so did the shark, as if it evaporated or seeped out the tiny cracks in the concrete.

Think. Damned attention span. Something is wrong here.

I tried to pull myself back from my tangent, thinking of the boom box again. John had found it at a garage sale. There’s a story in the Old Testament, a young David driving away an evil spirit by playing pretty music on his harp—

Wait a second.

“John, did I hear you say you thought she looked like Amber?”

“Yeah.”

“John, Amber’s almost as tall as me. Blond hair, kind of top-heavy, right?”

“Yeah, cute as hell. I mean—”

“And you think Shelly looks like her? The girl sitting upstairs?”

“Yeah.” John turned to face me, already getting it.

“John, Shelly is short. Short with dark hair. Blue eyes.”

—They haunt minds—

John sighed, plucked out his cigarette and flung it to the floor. “Fuck.”

We turned toward the stairs, took a step up, and froze. Shelly was there, sitting halfway up the stairs, one arm curled around Molly’s neck. Innocent, wary eyes. Playing the part.

I stepped slowly onto the third stair, said, “Tell me something, Miss, uh, I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your last name—”

“Shelly is fine.”

“Yeah, remind me anyway. I hate forgetting things.”

“Morris.”

I took another step toward her.

“That’s what I thought.”

Another step. I heard John step up behind me.

“So,” I said, “whose house is this?”

“What?”

“The sign out front says Morrison. Morris-son. Not Morris. Now would you describe your own appearance for me?”

“I don’t—”

“You see, because John and I have this thing where we’re both seeing completely different versions of you. Now, John has eyesight problems because of his constant masturbation, but I don’t think—”

She burst into snakes.

That’s right. Her body sort of spilled out of itself, falling into a dark, writhing puddle on the ground. It was a tangle of long, black serpents, rolling over each other and down the steps. We kicked at them as they slithered past, John warding them off with the torch.

Some, I saw, had patches of color on their scales, like flesh or the flowered pattern of Shelly’s dress. I caught a glimpse of one snake with a writhing human eyeball still embedded in its side, the iris powder blue.

Molly jumped back and barked—a little too late, I thought—and made a show of snapping at one of the snakes as it wound its way down the stairs. She bounded to the top of the stairs and disappeared through the doorway. We kicked through the slithering things and stomped up after the dog, just as the stairwell door banged shut on its own.

I reached for the knob. At the same moment it began to melt and transform, turning pink and finally taking the shape of a flaccid penis. It flopped softly against the door, like a man was cramming it through the knob hole from the other side.

I turned back to John and said, “That door cannot be opened.”

We stumbled back down the stairs, John jumping the last five, shoes smacking on the concrete. The snakes fled from the firelight and disappeared under shelves and between cardboard boxes.

That’s when the basement started filling with shit.

The brown sludge oozed up from the floor drain, an unmistakable stench rising above it. I looked around for a window we could crawl out of, found none. The sewage bloomed out from the center of the floor, swirling around the soles of my shoes.

John shouted, “There!”

I whipped my head in his direction, saw him grab a little plastic crate from a shelf and set it on the floor. He climbed up on it, then just stood there with the muck rising below. Finally he looked at me and said, “What are you doing? Go find us a way outta here!”

I was ankle-deep now in a pool that was disturbingly warm. I sloshed around, looking above me until I found the large, square duct feeding into the first floor from the furnace. The return air vent. I went to a pegboard on the wall and grabbed a foot-long screwdriver. I jabbed it into the crease between the metal of the duct and the floor, prying down the apparatus with a squeal of pulled nails.

I finally got a hold on the edge of the metal duct and felt it cut into my fingers. I pulled it down to reveal the dark living room above me, blocked by a metal grid. I jumped and knocked the grate aside with my hands. I leapt again and grabbed floor with both hands, feeling carpet under my fingers. With a series of frantic, awkward movements I managed to pull my limbs up until I could roll over on the floor of the living room.

I looked back at the square hole and saw a flicker of flame emerge, followed by the torch and then John’s hand. In a few seconds we were both standing in the living room, glancing around, breathing heavily.

Nothing.

A low, pulsing sound emerged from the air around us. A laugh. A dry, humorless cough of a noise, as if the house itself was expelling the air with giant lungs of wood and plaster.

John said, “Asshole.”

“John, I’m changing my cell number tomorrow. And I’m not giving you the new one. Now let’s get this over with.”

We both knew the drill. We had to draw the thing out somehow. John handed me his lighter.

“You light some candles. I’ll go stand in the shower naked.”

Molly followed me as I went back to where we left the boom box and the other supplies. I lit a few candles around the house—just enough to make it spooky. John showered, I found another bathroom and washed the sludge off my shoes and feet.

“Oh, no!” I heard John shout over the running water. “It’s dark in here and here I am in the shower! Alone! I’m so naked and vulnerable!”

Out of things to do, I walked around for a bit and eventually found a bedroom. I glanced at my watch, sighed, then lay down over the covers. It was almost four in the morning.

This could go on for hours, or days. Time. That’s all they have. I heard Molly plop down on the floor below. I reached down to pet her and she licked my hand the way dogs do. I wondered why in the world they felt the need to do that. I’ve often thought about trying it the next time somebody got their fingers close to my mouth, like at the dentist.

John came back twenty minutes later, wearing what must have been the smallest towel he could find. He lowered his voice. “I think I saw a hatch for an attic earlier. I’m gonna see if there’s room to crawl around up there, see if maybe there’s a big scary-looking footlocker it can pop out of or somethin’.”

I nodded. John raised his voice theatrically and said, “Oh, no. We are trapped here all alone. I will go see if I can find help.”

“Yes,” I answered, loudly. “Perhaps we should split up.”

John left the room. I tried to relax, hoping even to doze off. Ghosts love to sneak up on you when you’re sleeping. I scratched Molly’s head and—

SLEEP. LICKING. A soft splashing sound from another room. I dreamed I saw a shadow peel itself off the far wall and float toward me. Most of my dreams are like that, always based on something that really happened.

My eyes snapped open, my right arm still hanging over the edge of the mattress, the rough tongue still flapping away at my ring finger. How long had I been out? Thirty seconds? Two hours?

I sat up, trying to adjust to the darkness. A faint glow pulsed from the hall where the nearest candle burned away in the bathroom.

I quietly stepped off the foot of the bed and headed across the room into the hallway. Down the hall now, toward the sound and the light. I ran my hand along the textured plaster of the wall until I reached the bathroom, the source of the gentle splashing. Not splashing. Slurping. I peered in.

Molly, drinking from the toilet. She turned to look at me with an almost catlike “can I help you?” stare. I thought absently that she was drinking the poowater with the same mouth she used to lick my hand. . . .

If she’s in here, then that wasn’t her by the bed.

I picked the candle off the counter and headed back to the bedroom. I stepped in, the candle casting an uneven halo of light around me, rustling the shadows aside. I moved toward the bed and saw . . .

Meat. Dozens of the wrapped and now partially unwrapped hunks from the freezer, laying neatly on the floor next to the bed in an almost ceremonial fashion, the objects arranged in the rough shape of a man.

I moved the light toward the head area, where I found a frozen turkey still in the Butterball wrapper. Under it, wedged between turkey and torso, was the disembodied deer tongue, flapping around of its own accord.

Hmmmm. That was different.

I jumped back as the turkey, the tongue, and a slab of ribs levitated off the floor.

The man-shaped arrangement of meat rose up, as if functioning as one body. It pushed itself up on two arms made of game hens and country bacon, planting two hands with sausage-link fingers on the floor. The phrase “sodomized by a bratwurst poltergeist” suddenly flew through my mind. Finally it stood fully upright, looking like the mascot for a butcher shop whose profits went entirely to support the owner’s acid habit.

“John! We got, uh, something here.”

It was about seven feet tall, its turkey head swiveling side to side to survey the room, the tongue swaying uselessly below. It extended a sausage to me.

“You.”

It was an accusation. Had we dealt with this thing before? I didn’t remember it, but I was bad with faces.

“You have tormented me six times. Now prepare to meat your doom!”

I have no way of knowing that it actually said “meat” instead of “meet” but I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt. I ran.

“John! John! We got a Situation Fifty-three here!”

The thing gave chase, its shaved-ham feet slapping the floor behind me. My candle went out. I tossed it aside. I saw a closed door to my right, so I skidded to a stop, threw it open, and flung myself in.

Linen shelves smacked me in the face and I fell back out of the closet, dazed. The meat man wrapped its cold links around my neck and lifted me up. It pinned me against the wall.

“You disappoint me. All those times we have dueled. In the desert. In the city. You thought you had vanquished me in Venice, didn’t you?”

I was so impressed by this thing’s ability to articulate words using that flapping deer tongue and a frozen turkey that I almost lost track of what it was saying.

Venice? Did he say Venice? What?

Molly came by just then, trotting along like everything was just A-OK in Dogland.

Then she noticed some meat standing nearby and started happily chewing on a six-inch-wide tube of bologna serving as the thing’s ankle.

“AARRRRRGHHHH!!!!”

It dropped me to the floor. I scrambled to my feet and ran downstairs. The meat man followed.

At the foot of the stairs, John was waiting.

He was holding the stereo.

The monster stopped halfway down the staircase, its eyeless turkey head staring down the device in John’s hands, as if recognizing the danger.

Oh, how that Old Testament demon must have howled and shrieked at the sight of young David’s harp, seeing at work a form of ancient magic that can pierce any darkness. The walking meat horror knew what was coming, that the same power was about to be tapped.

John nodded, as if to say, “Checkmate.”

He pushed the “play” button.

Sound filled the room, a crystal melody that could lift any human heart and turn away any devil.

It was “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake.

The monster grabbed the spots on the turkey where its ears would be and fell to its knees. John wielded the stereo before him like a holy talisman, stepping up the stairs, driving the sound closer to the beast. Every inch of its fat-marbled skin and gristle writhed in agony.

“Take it!” John screamed, suddenly emboldened. “It looks like you should have taken time to beef up your defenses!”

The beast grabbed its abdomen; in pain, I thought.

Instead it pried loose a canned ham and, before John could react, hurled it at the stereo, the can whizzing through the air like a Randy Johnson fastball.

Direct hit. Sparks and bits of plastic flew. The stereo tumbled out of John’s hands and fell heavily to the stairs.

Disarmed, John hopped down to the floor as the beast rose to its feet and pursued. It grabbed John by the neck. It snatched at me, but I dodged and grabbed the coffee thermos from the table. I ran back with the thermos, spun off the top and dashed the contents at the meaty arm that held John.

The meatstrocity screamed. The arm smoked and bubbled, then burst into flame. The limb then blackened and peeled off from the socket, falling to the hardwood below. John was free, falling to his knees and gasping for air.

The beast howled, collapsing to the floor meatily. With its only remaining arm, it pointed at me.

“You’ll never defeat me, Marconi! I have sealed this house with my powers. You cannot escape!”

I stopped, put my hands on my hips and strode up to it. “Marconi? As in, Doctor-slash-Father Albert Marconi? The guy who hosts Magical Mysteries on the Discovery Channel?”

John stepped over and glared at the wounded thing. “You dumbass. Marconi is fifty years old. He has white hair. Dave and I aren’t that old combined. Your nemesis is probably off giving some seminar, standing waist-deep in a pile of his own money.”

The thing turned its turkey at me.

“Tell ya what,” I offered. “If I can get you in touch with Marconi so you two can work out your little differences, will you release us?”

“You lie!”

“Well, I can’t get him down here, but surely a being as superhumanly powerful as you can destroy him at a distance, right? Here.”

It watched me as I fished out my cell phone and dialed. After talking to a secretary, a press agent, a bodyguard, an operator, the secretary again and finally a personal assistant, I got through.

“This is Marconi. My secretary says you have some kind of a meat monster there?”

“Yeah. Hold on.”

I offered the phone to Meaty. “Do we have a deal?”

The thing stood up, hesitated, then finally nodded its turkey up and down. I held out the phone, while giving John a dark look that I hoped conveyed the fact that Plan B involved me letting the monster beat the shit out of him while I tried to escape out of a window somewhere. Fucking girl and her “ghost boyfriend.” Marconi would have seen this shit coming a mile away.

A bundle of sausage fingers took the phone from my hand.

“So!” it boomed into the receiver. “We meat again, Marconi. You thought you had vanquished me but I—”

The beast spontaneously combusted into a ball of unholy blue light. With a shriek that pierced my ears, it left our world. The lifeless meat slapped to the floor piece by piece, the cell phone clattering next to the pile.

Silence.

“Damn, he’s good,” said John. I walked over and picked up the cell phone. I put it to my ear to ask the doctor what he had done, but it was the secretary again. I switched it off. The doctor hadn’t even hung around long enough to say hello.

John made a casual hand-dusting motion. “Well. That was pretty stupid.”

I tried the front door and it opened easily. Who knows, maybe it had never been sealed. We took time to straighten up the place, not finding any Morrisons restrained or dismembered and figuring that “Shelly” was at least telling the truth when she said the real family was on vacation. The shit had vanished from the basement, but I couldn’t fix the heating duct I had messed up earlier. We packed the meat back into the freezer as best we could, with one exception.

The sun was already dissolving the night sky by the time I got home. I opened up the toolshed and set the broken boom box inside. I found an empty jar, filled it from a square can of formaldehyde and dropped the deer tongue in. I placed it on the shelf next to a stuffed monkey paw, lying lifeless with two fingers extended. I locked up and went to bed.

—from the journal of David Wong

[thetravelersjournal]

Gear Foxx- Chapter 1

Long Prologues!

Ringing filled my ears as I looked at what remained of my prison. The lab was completely destroyed. Glass littered the floor, and emergency lights blinked on and off in the dark, giving just enough light to see. Armed guards and lab assistants were knocked out on the floor, unaware of the chaotic environment around them. I stood up and brushed off some dust resting on my shoulders, only feeling some slight pain in my chest and left arm. I looked around before spotting a slightly confused Kintobor. I strolled over to the doctor, staring down at him. The doctor slowly gazed up, giving me a once-over. A smile steadily formed on his face before he finally let out a cry of victory.

“Finally! It worked!” the doctor laughed with joy, “Quick, help me up.”

I peered down at him for a moment longer before helping the doctor to his feet. He took in the destroyed lab with his eyes, rolling them across the floor and walls.

“Sigh… shame about the lab. But it was definitely worth it,” the doctor said, looking down at me, “It was a good thing that my assistant turned on the mind recalibrator, or else who knows what mischief you would be up t-eguuhhahh!”

I swiftly turned behind him, the bald maniac yelping in pain as my hands grabbed ahold of cotton. I yanked hard towards the heavens, giving him an atomic wedgie. Kintobor stumbled a bit before tripping on a bundle of wires and crashing to the floor. I gave a grunt of disgust.

“Happy birthday to me,” I said gruffly, before running out the door, down the hallway and out of sight.

The doctor yelled in fury while trying to take his underpants from off his head. “Apparently my assistant did not turn it on! So much for brainwashing the thing easily.” Kintobor scrambled to a nearby unconscious armed guard and grabbed his walkie talkie. “All personnel report to sector STH-75 immediately! If you see what looks like a humanoid fox, stop it! But do not kill it!” he screamed into the receiver.  He sat down slowly, stuffing his now very elastic underwear back into his pants. “This will work,” he assured himself, an idea forming at the edges of his mind, “This will work.”

The pain started to return to my legs as I ran down the many twisting hallways of the building. Cramps were the least of my worries, however. My only goal was to get out of this prison as soon as possible. I turned a corner, only to narrowly dodge a missile sent from an armed guard. I kicked the guard in the head before he could call for backup. I didn’t hang around to see if he was knocked out or not.

I continued my blind run through the building. Hallway after hallway, guard after guard, I kept running and fighting, my eyes frantically searching for some ray of hope, some sort of escape from this nightmare. No windows or exit signs lit the way for me- I was on my own. After beating the 31st guard I ran into into submission, I rounded one last turn, coming to a dead end.

A lone door with the word STORAGE written on it was the only spectacular sight to see in this said hallway. No windows to break, no other doors, not even plants to hide behind. I started to turn back when I heard the sound of heavy feet swiftly pounding the floor from around the corner. Having no other choice, I ran to the door, opened it, and locked myself inside.

Inside the storage room was a random assortment of boxes, metal mechanisms, boxes, dirty and cracked test tubes, boxes, and a giant metal device shoved into the back of the room, with a large paper note that read, “DO NOT TURN ON” attached to the top. I ignored the machine and started moving boxes and anything else heavy in front of the door at lightning speed. Before I could finish, the door started shaking as guards outside tried bashing it open. I backed up slowly. Once the guards got in, it was all over. I had to think of an escape plan, something that could get me out of this conundrum. I kept backing up, all the way to the back of the room, where I accidentally pressed a red button on the giant metal device with my elbow.

The machine turned on, and a giant purple portal opened up in the middle of the room. A strong wind entered the closet. Everything not held down started getting sucked into the portal; that is to say, pretty much everything in the room. I  grabbed hold of a large metal railing that was bolted to the floor and held on tight, closing my eyes. I squinted them towards the door, only to see one of the boxes that I had used to hold it shut flying straight towards me. It hit me square in the face, making me loosen my grip on the railing. Gravity proved too strong for me as my hands lost the banister and I fell into the portal. At this point the guards kicked down the door, only to see the gateway collapse in on itself.

I fell for what seemed like forever. The entire cosmos opened up before me, swirling around at an ever-quickening pace. Lights dazzled in front of my eyes, speeding up faster and faster. I started to choke as all the air rushed out of my lungs. My body stretched thin, as if it had been put in a taffy puller. The sight of it all was nauseating, making my stomach churn. It was beautiful.

Before I could take it all in, I landed hard on the floor, my body intact. I groaned, wheezing, before gradually looking up. I was in a new room, completely unlike the storage closet I took shelter in. The walls were horrendously torn apart, ripped completely open by an unknown force. Slowly, I regained my breath.

“Where am I?” I said.  

I looked out of the giant hole of a wall to see a vast city outside. Something about the city disturbed me. It was as if it had once held an amazing amount of beauty, only to be replaced by large ugly towers, looming down on the sidewalk below. The skyscrapers were littered everywhere around me. I could hear what sounded like faint screaming.

“Where am I?” I asked again stupidly.

An explosion at the base of the building returned me to my senses. I noticed that most of the buildings around me were on fire, burning the air, making it taste of sulfur. The wind helped me breathe easily though, brushing past my fur as I noticed-

“I’m not wearing any pants,” I said, interrupting my thoughts.

I retracted my gaze from the view and looked around what seemed to be a ruined apartment. Crumbled drywall littered the floor, along with the boxes and papers that had traveled with me from the storage room. I noticed a closet on the far side of the room. I walked over and opened it, revealing some decent (if not a little baggy) articles of clothing. I selected some faded brown pants from the lot, as well as matching leather boots. I chose a plain black shirt to hide my brand. I wanted to forget about it for now.

But as I pulled the shirt over my head, I realized I couldn’t. I had no idea where I was, who I was, or even what I was. My head started to spin, taking the walls and floor for a ride with it. The doctor had implanted a tracker in me… It probably still worked. There was no doubt that he would find me soon, and it wasn’t like I could really blend in anywhere. The more I thought about it, the more pain grew in my forehead. I felt like I was going to throw up.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I said.

“SURRENDER-AND-PREPARE-FOR-COMPLETE-ROBOTIZATION!” said a robotic voice behind me, just before a giant fist broke the floor to the right of me.

I swiveled on the spot. A giant bluish-black robot stood behind me, its sole red eye focused on me. Its armor bounced off the sun’s light, distracting its shadow on the floor. It raised a hand, repeating itself, and walked closer to me. I immediately went into action, ducking and rolling under the automation’s legs. I jumped and kicked off the wall behind it, twisting around in the air before landing on its back. I tore off a small panel on its rear and began breaking and tying together different colored wires. The robot tried grabbing me off, but its arms couldn’t reach. I tore out some more mechanisms before finally conjoining two last cords.

“CEASE-AND-RESSSsiisst-,” it moaned. A low humming filled the room, before the robot promptly rebooted.

“HAPPY-AND-WILLING-TO-SERVE,” the android recited.

I sat on its back without saying anything. I had gone in head first without thinking about it-without even breaking a sweat, either. I didn’t know I could do that. I studied one of the small cogs still grasped in my hand. It showed a slightly scared fox-ish face with brown eyes, which peered back at their owner in the polished metal. I held it tight before tucking it in my pocket. I realized I had no time to think about who, what, where, when,  why, how… right now, all I could think about was what I did know.

I knew I was in a building high above a burning, screaming city. I knew that the doctor and his hired help were nowhere to be seen. I knew that I had reprogrammed this robot within 10 seconds flat. And as another explosion rocked the building, I realized I knew one last thing.

There was only one way down.

“Alright, metal man… let's make a timely exit!” I shouted as the floor started to give way.

“HAPPY-AND-WILLING-TO-SERVE,” the robot repeated, running toward and jumping through the non-existent wall. I held on tight, the wind blowing my tail upward as the ground slowly skyrocketed towards us. The droid hit the ground hard, leaving a crater where its feet hit. The skyscraper we were in collapsed, raining down dust. It took a few minutes before I could see what was going on.

Chaos reigned. Hundreds of citizens of the city ran in all directions, trying to distance themselves from more robots of the same make and model as my ride. The automations shot what appeared to be plasma bursts out of their hands, blowing up strange-looking cars and the pavement in front of them.

“No way…,” I said breathlessly. All the people running around looked like anthropomorphic animals- just like me. Ducks quacked as laser fire roasted their rear ends, monkeys screeched as a car exploded near them, and two large Deer shouted as a pair of robots grabbed them from behind.

“Get off us, you tin-plated jerks!!” shouted the male deer.

I was about to shout and charge in their direction when a giant beam of light scorched the droids to a crisp. The source of the light revealed himself to be a small human man, who stood out from the rest of the inhabitants. I watched him and a young pink hedgehog converse with the deer, before noticing dark movement behind them.

Another robot lifted his hand to vaporize the group, but didn’t have enough time to do so. My own robot came up from behind and crushed in its head, immobilizing it. The small gang stared in amazement at the hulking beast that had destroyed one of its own allies. I climbed a little higher on the bot so they could see me.

“Don’t just stand there-Get out of here!” I yelled. The group got up and ran toward the heart of the city, in the direction of a spacious building reminiscent of a castle.

“You’re amazing, mister!” The pink hedgehog waved before following her friends.

“Wait, not that way! Get out of the city!” I cried back.

But at this point they were too far away to hear me. More robots broke away from the main group huddled in the middle of the street to go after them.

“Oh, for the love of- After them, Iron Giant!” I shouted, pointing my robot friend in the direction of the group. It started stomping after them, breaking the gravel as it went. More androids were annihilated as my companion charged towards the castle, inadvertently helping more citizens along the way. By the time I got there, the people I had rescued were nowhere to be seen, and a small herd of droids was gathered near the side of the building.

“Blend in,” I muttered to my friend, sinking lower behind its back. The iron golem walked slowly forward, joining his look-a-likes as they pressed against the castle.

They stood silently, as if waiting for a cue. I took this opportunity to quietly take a broken robot’s arm off the ground. I started fidgeting with the systems, turning the arm into a handheld blaster. It was still a mystery to me how I knew so much about mechanical engineering, but I didn’t have much time to think about that now.

Suddenly, the androids broke through the wall with quick force. Several people were scattered around a makeshift hospital room. The group I had rescued before, as well as two other animals, one of whom wore a large crown on his head, backed away from the evil automations.

“Alright… now!” I whispered.

My robotic ride grabbed hold of two heads in front of it and smashed them together. Before the other robot could figure out what had happened, I jumped up and blasted it with my homemade gun. The mammals stood in shock.

“Well? Get the heck out of here! Don’t make me tell you a third time!” I exclaimed.

Everyone exited the building and began to run for the edge of town. I started to follow them, but stopped. More wails shook the city, creeping into my ears. I didn’t know what was going on, that was for sure. But I couldn't just leave the city- not while I had the power to help others escape as well.

“What say you and I go and smash some more robotic heads?” I asked my buddy.

“HAPPY-AND-WILLING-TO-SERVE,” it said robotically, before sprinting towards the sound of screaming voices.

“You need a name…,” I continued, thinking hard,  “Something casual, and not scary. Hang on, let me think…”

It had been hours since I had first entered the city. My still nameless robot ally was almost falling apart at this point, having suffered extreme scars from various battles the two of us had gone head-first into, trying to rescue more citizens. I was no worse for wear. Blood ran down my face into my mouth, giving my tongue a bitter taste to suck on. I had gone through four robot hands already, and was searching for a fifth. I saw one on the ground and started modifying it. Each arm I modified became better than the previous one, faster and more powerful. I finished my project and put it on, a sleek black cannon now encompassing my arm.

I heard a scream and noticed more survivors down an alley to the right of me. They were surrounded by the black robots in front of a large and strange shaped building, if you could call it that. I realized that it was the castle I had broken into earlier, unrecognizable from this side of the compound. I rode my buddy down the alley, screaming at the top of my lungs.

“You want to pick on them? Well, you got to get through me and my friend, uh... George... here first!”

Bots swiftly struck from the shadows, hitting my newly(and poorly)-named robot-friend in the chest, destroying it. I flew through the air, landing hard on my leg in the middle of the group. An audible crack rang in the air as I cried out in shock. I tried to get up, but the pain in my leg was intense. A couple of gasps and ‘are you alright?’s echoed through the group, but I wasn’t paying attention to them. I sat up and raised my gun, my eyes focused on the incoming soldiers.

“Here goes nothing…,” I muttered, knowing the end was near. More and more androids poured in, filling the square. There were more robots than I could count, and they just kept coming. A bead of sweat ran down my brow. I squinted my eyes, preparing myself.

A flash of blue swept through the plaza, tearing the robots apart.

It struck again and again, zooming under, over, and through more and more robots. Nuts and bolts flew through the air as the blue blur finally stopped moving to take the form of a hedgehog wearing a pair of sneakers.

“That can’t be…?” My eyes bulged with disbelief.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen… is how you take apart fifty shadow-bots in less than ten seconds!” Sonic the Hedgehog said triumphantly, “I caution you not to try this stunt at home.”

Prologue

Next Chapter

Gear and Dr. Cain belong to me.

Sonic, Amy, Nate Morgan, and others belong to SEGA, Archie(?) or Ken Penders.