#I started Evil Under the Sun today and uh. its bad.

[penny-nichols]

Amazing how I have played 3 games about Hercule Poirot and none of them are good

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 311: Hand Gun

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “thinkin’ about dropping in some woke analogies of the very real and very presently relevant issue of racial profiling idk what do you guys think” and then shrugged and did it without waiting for an answer, and ngl it was a bit sudden, but I’m here for it. All Might was all “DEKU YOU NEED TO EAT” and Deku was all “OKAY” and took his hero bento and went to go stand dramatically on a tower in the rain whilst having some highly anticipated Vestige flashbacks. OFA II was all, “sup, I guess I’m not Kacchan... OR AM I,” and ngl I think he is?? Alternate universes anybody?? Hello??? But anyway, so OFA the First a.k.a. Yoichi was all “remember that time you guys rescued me from my evil brother and Two took my hand and we Had A Moment?”, and Two and Three were all “ahh yeah good times”, and it was very nice and very, very gay. The chapter ended with it being very unclear if Two and Three have actually lent their power to Deku yet or not lmao. Y’all need to get your shit together dudes.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “what if I gave a random bad guy a fucking tommy gun that shoots nails” and jesus christ calm down son. The Hawksquad, a.k.a. SQUAWK as per @hotchocolatier​, are all “time to drive aimlessly around town acting like Deku has a restraining order on us because that’s literally the best plan to combat the League we could come up with,” and I have no further comment. Hawks is all “idk about you guys but I want to know more about AFO and Tomura’s whole deal” and I can’t remember the last time I identified so strongly with one of these characters. All Might is all, “[EXPLODES???]”, and the chapter ends with that mysterious hot girl from the Tartarus breakout being all “HELLO I CAN TURN INTO A GUN AND I LITERALLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK” and (1) WOW, and (2) IT’S TRUE, SHE CAN, AND SHE REALLY DOESN’T. GODDAMN.

(ETA: so this wholly escaped my notice on the first go, and also has nothing to do with the chapter itself, but I only just realized that this chapter was scanlated by a new group, TCB Scans. they actually did a very good job, and I’m curious if they’ve found a new RAW provider, because the quality this week is actually crazy good in comparison to what we’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I’m gonna have to get caught up on what exactly happened here lol.)

so what will it be this week? more Vestige antics? more of Sad Nomad Deku standing on buildings and pretending like he’s some cool aloof antihero, as if he could fool us when we all know his hero backpack is secretly stuffed full with his nerd diaries and the remnants of all the hero bentos that All Might keeps giving him?? or, just putting it out there, just a crazy thought, but you don’t suppose we might actually cut back to U.A.? mmm. side-eyes emoji

maaaaaan I’m starting to get tired of this trend of beginning chapters by dropping in on random power-tripping civilians and/or Shindou lol. just once can we get a chapter that opens with someone I actually give a fuck about

oh at least Endeavor is here

A WHAT SUPPORT ITEM!??! HOLY SHIT DDLKJSLFKJL

lol somehow that’s more terrifying than bullets for me?? like I’m fully aware that bullets will fuck you up way worse and that in real life nail guns probably don’t work like this AT ALL and only have a range of like... hold up let me just google... up to 100 to 150 m/s and distances of up to 500m wait WHAT

okay wait. hold up. like I was expecting google to tell me nail guns only shoot a few feet at most, and instead the first search result is some CDC blog article that’s “dispelling” the “””myth””” -- please note my repeated sarcastic quotation marks -- that nail guns can fire 1400 feet per second, by explaining that actually they can fire anywhere from 315 ft/sec to 1,295 ft/sec, and that “it is in the pneumatic nail gun user’s best interest to handle these tools as if they were a firearm despite having a lower velocity” dlkjdslkjflkl

SO THAT SCENE IN IRON MAN 3 WHERE TONY RAIDS A HOME DEPOT AND BUYS A BUNCH OF RANDOM TOOLS AND SHIT AND GOES ON TO STAGE A ONE-MAN INVASION OF AN INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST’S FLORIDA MANSION HQ IS ACTUALLY TRUE. YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE FILM “HOME ALONE” IS ACTUALLY A DOCUMENTARY. “the Discovery Channel television program “Mythbusters” compared the penetration capacity of an airborne projectile shot from a pneumatic framing nail gun to that of a 9mm hand gun” HELLO YES AND A MERRY “WHAT THE FUCK” TO YOU AS WELL

anyway, so. there’s apparently a reason why the Number One hero, who can burn people with the intensity of a sun going supernova, is hiding here behind this concrete support column making frowny faces. nope. nuh uh. he ain’t about that. I don’t blame you buddy

so now he’s barrel rolling out of his hiding place and setting this dude THE FUCK ON FIRE because HELL NO. BAD ENOUGH I HAD TO WATCH THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM EPISODE LAST WEEK! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE

LOL look at his face

I know the context is actually him being all “I know I’m responsible for basically everything that happened and so that’s why I’m so grim and serious about this mission to set things right piece by piece,” but in my mind this pissed-off face is 100% all because this dude tried to shoot his eye out with a nail gun. look at that. you made him go full flame face again. beard and all. protecting his face so that it can hopefully melt any stray nails that get too close. nope nope nope

good lord. so what’s up next. let me guess the guy fighting Best Jeanist has like an atomic chainsaw or some shit

lol nope we’re just cutting back to Hawks and Jeanist chilling in the Jesla after they’ve wrapped things up

Jeanist has got some serious Groot energy you guys jesus christ he’s like 12 feet tall

oh snap someone threw a pipe at him now

today is just the chapter of Endeavor being assaulted by random DIY tools I guess

I mean, I get why they’re pissed at him obviously; I would be too lol. but tbh I also don’t really understand the “get out of here we don’t want your help” attitude that all of these people suddenly seem to have?? like it if were me, I would be fucking DEMANDING for him and the other heroes to be working round the clock to fix their stupid mess. I mean who else is gonna do it?? it’s their mess, I sure don’t want to be the one to clean it up instead. anyways but whatever lol

oh shit?

so they haven’t dropped the whole “OFA secret potentially gets revealed to the world” thing yet after all. that makes sense I suppose, it did seem like that whole thing wound up playing out a bit too easily

anyway so yeah

the locals are definitely none too happy. well at least Dabi’s got something to be cheerful about I guess

so now we’re cutting to the interior of the Jesla and they’re chitchatting about the current investigation

oh wow this actually makes a bit of sense now. so there was a reason they were keeping their distance from Deku

please note that even in this abstract Endeavor’s-Mental-Image-Of-Him panel, Deku’s eyes still don’t have the light in them anymore :( my poor son

also ftr I still think using Deku as bait in this particular sense is the shittiest idea ever ngl. like sure, let’s let the sixteen-year-old run around battling miscellaneous escaped prison convicts while we stay several kilometers away ON PURPOSE despite the fact that you’re using him as bait to draw out the Big Bad, who just a reminder can destroy anything with a mere touch and who you were all basically helpless against. what exactly are you all planning to do if Tomura or one of the other League VIPs actually shows up to retrieve him?? are you even keeping tabs on him at all in real time?? jesus

(ETA: well that escalated quickly lol.)

Horikoshi is all of a sudden dropping whole pages of exposition here and I can’t be bothered to summarize this lol so just,

a big fat YES to what Jeanist said, though. that’s why imo they would have been better off laying a trap at U.A. rather than just wandering around out in the open. I assume they’re trying to cut their potential losses because U.A. is full of students (and civilians), but those students also happen to be more capable than pretty much anyone else in the manga at this point. and tbh they’re already in life-threatening danger regardless of how things play out from here on, so they might as well at least try to use the few advantages they have right now. U.A. is almost certainly going to come under siege at some point anyway, so they might as well prepare for it

lol I don’t think I’m explaining this very well because I don’t have the patience right now to break it down point by point like it really ought to be, so for now I’ll just say that imo “U.A. siege” stands a good chance of being the eventual endgame even now, and so this whole “Deku runs around being bait” arc is really just killing time until then lol. like and subscribe for more rambling nonsensical takes such as this. maybe next time I’ll even put it all into one single sentence for maximum meandering senior citizen rant value

well it’s nice that they’re finally talking about all of this I guess

we readers have known all of this for months now but this confirms the heroes are finally caught up. ALSO, Hawks is so fucking smart, as always. kinda wonder if things would have played out differently if All Might had let him in on the secret a bit earlier. probably that’s why Horikoshi made damn sure they didn’t find out until after the War arc lol

OH MY GOD YOOOOOO HAWKS OUT HERE ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

“anyone else wondering why AFO bothered to raise Tomura as his fake heir for fifteen years when he was secretly planning on taking over his body the whole time” YES, [raises hand] lmao Hawks where the hell were you when I was debating this “AFO is the final villain and Tomura is just his pawn” thing on multiple occasions over the past several years lol

lmao seeing them debate the metaphysics of OFA and all of its mystical bullshit is seriously surreal you guys

JEANIST HAVE YOU CHECKED OUT MY META TAG I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY ESSAYS. I ACTUALLY WAS PLANNING ON WRITING ANOTHER ESSAY ABOUT THE THING THAT I’M PRETTY SURE HAWKS IS ABOUT TO BRING UP, BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT WHOOPS, BUT MAYBE I WILL NOW LOL LET’S SEE HOW IT GOES

yes!!

WHICH AFO FUCKING ENSURED HE WOULD BE BY LITERALLY PLANNING OUT EVERY LAST DETAIL OF HIS FAMILY TRAGEDY, FROM SECRETLY GIVING TENKO THE QUIRK TO MAKING SURE NO CIVILIANS OR HEROES WOULD HELP HIM UNTIL AFO FINALLY STEPPED IN. I’M 1000% CONVINCED THIS IS THE CASE YOU GUYS. NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT A FAN OF “THE WORLD IS A FUNDAMENTALLY SHITTY PLACE, ACTUALLY” TAKES BECAUSE MISTER ROGERS TOLD ME TO ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BUT ALSO BECAUSE IT LITERALLY JUST DOESN’T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE OTHERWISE. THEIR ENTIRE HOUSE CAVED IN FFS, YOU’RE TELLING ME NONE OF THE NEIGHBORS FUCKING OVERHEARD THAT SHIT AND WENT “UMMMMMMMMM” AND WENT TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON?? “DIDN’T THERE USED TO BE A HOUSE HERE, AND LIKE A WHOLE FAMILY, AND SHIT?”

LIKE I’M SORRY, BUT IT’S ONE THING TO SAY IT’S REALISTIC THAT NOT A SINGLE PERSON WOULD ATTEMPT TO HELP THE WANDERING TRAUMATIZED CHILD AFTERWARDS (WHICH I DISAGREE WITH AS WELL BUT AT LEAST THAT’S MORE SUBJECTIVE), AND IT’S A WHOLE OTHER THING TO ARGUE THAT IT’S REALISTIC THAT NO ONE WOULD BE FUCKING NOSY. LIKE THAT’S A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF “THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS” ENTIRELY LOL. anyway tl;dr AFO is a piece of shit and Tomura’s entire worldview is based on a magnificently intricate and savagely cruel lie more at 11

anyway so after all that ranting it looks like that wasn’t even what Hawks was talking about after all lol. I just went off for absolutely no reason lol oh well. instead it seems that Hawks is suggesting that Tomura’s carefully cultivated hatred might not yet have actually reached “can defeat OFA” levels even after all of that trauma. interesting!

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here while my brain furiously scrambles to put together all the parallels between Hawks and Tomura that it never noticed before until exactly this second. like I’m not even sure that was the intent here at all (I need to check out another translation or two lol), but regardless my mind decided that now would be the perfect time to make the connection between these two twenty-somethings who both had horrific childhoods and spent years being molded by their respective manipulative guardians, and developed eerily similar “laugh at everything because what else can you do” coping mechanisms to deal with it all hmmmmm

anyway so they were talking more about their strategy, but now all of a sudden Jeanist’s phone is beeping??

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO ALL MIGHT AND HIS MIGHTMOBILE DAMMIT so that means the call to Jeanist was actually something important then!! WAS IT BAKUGOU OMG. DOES YOUR INTERN WANT A WORD FFFKLFSJK please it’s been so long I just need a little crumb or two to tide me over lmao have mercy

anyway so All Might’s following the GPS tracking device he’s apparently got planted on Deku (which in my conspiracy headcanons he’s actually had for a long time now, like since before DvK2 lol because HOW ELSE WOULD HAVE HAVE KNOWN THAT THEY WERE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN GROUND BETA, PEOPLE) and thinking angsty thoughts about Deku’s sucky life

AND NOW ALL MIGHT’S PHONE IS RINGING TOO?? BAKUGOU HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU CALLING. “WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THE NERD GODDAMMIT”

OMG

lol is he under attack or is he just finally giving All Might the slip like we all know he SECRETLY PLANNED TO ALL ALONG oh my poor dumb angstmuffin

OMG AHHHHHHH WHAT

DID ALL MIGHT JUST FUCKING DIE LMAO NO OF COURSE NOT, BUT WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING OMG

THE FUCK IS THAT. AT LEAST IT’S NOT A NAIL

OH IT’S A SPEAKER!! OMG DID THEY TAKE ALL MIGHT HOSTAGE

“THEY’RE HERE” WELP, TIME TO SEE JUST HOW SHITTY THIS SHITTY PLAN REALLY IS LOL

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE!!!!

omg. AND OVERHAUL JUST CHILLING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND ALL “WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT ME TO DO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING ARMS” YEAH GOOD RIDDANCE LOL

DOES THIS GIRL HAVE ONE GIANT LEG OR WHAT, LIKE WHAT’S THE DEAL HERE

-- HOLD UP WAIT, THE GUN IS HER ARM, HOLY SHIT SHE CAN TURN INTO A GUN -- OKAY HOLD UP BECAUSE I NEED TO SAY THAT IN BIGGER TEXT BECAUSE !!!!

YOU GUYS, THE COOL TARTARUS GIRL IS BACK AND HER QUIRK IS “CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING GUN.” THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! MY BEST GIRL MT. GUN IS FINALLY BACK ON THE SCENE WITH HER QUIRK “CAN DO ANYTHING A GUN CAN DO.” “I HEARD Y’ALL WENT AND NAMED ONE OF YOUR HEROES ‘GUNHEAD’ EVEN THOUGH HIS HEAD ISN’T EVEN A GUN, LIKE WTF IS UP WITH THAT LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE” DANG OKAY

lmao only fifteen pages this week, and STILL NO KACCHAN (THEN WHO WAS PHONE!!!), but man I don’t even care because finally we’ve got a cliffhanger that’s actually deserving of being a cliffhanger! hot dog. okay then

[trashyswitch]

Jeremy and the Unusual Reunion

Jeremy ends up being pulled into an animatronic reunion. Literally. But the reunion ends up full of laughs with old companions, laughs with new companions, and an unexpected meet up with an old coworker.

Sequel to 'Jeremy and the Mysterious Robots'.

I feel like I've been on roller coaster ride after roller coaster ride...and some of them have not been very pleasant. But, I'm making the best out of the situation. I hope you enjoy this fanfic! And if you offered up a fanfic, don't worry! I'm working on it!

Jeremy was going for a walk in the street. He was enjoying the sunny day with the nice little breeze that filled his face. Today was really the perfect day to go walking. Cars driving by, the sun shining on your face, the birds flying through the buildings, even younger and older kids biking up and down the street in groups of 4 or 8.

But all the happiness quickly changed when he felt his hand get grabbed. He was about to turn to see who it was, when Jeremy was yanked backwards into an alleyway. Jeremy yelped as he was pulled really quickly past the bricks, and grunted as his body hit a wall. Jeremy had the air knocked out of him as a result, making it extra hard to breathe for a few moments.

A being with what felt like electrical cords for hands, grabbed his upper arms and held them against the wall beside his middle. “Why hello, Michael~” Ennard greeted. “Still alive, I see?”

Jeremy looked up, and immediately started screaming! It was a huge animatronic abomination made primarily of cords and a clown head with a party hat and a big red nose. Oh no...Not the Pizzeria beings again!

Ennard slammed Jeremy’s body into the wall again. “SHUT UP.”

But Jeremy refused to shut up. “LET ME GO! I’M NOT MICHAEL! I DON’T KNOW WHO MICHAEL I-”

Suddenly, a white feminine-looking hand covered up Jeremy’s mouth. “There! Soooo much quieter!” The being talking was a version of Foxy that Jeremy had never seen before. It...looked very feminine and had girly attributes to it. An example: Pink long nails.

Jeremy didn’t know how to feel about this.

“Funny...He was right. This isn’t Michael…” Ennard reacted calmly. “Michael has darker hair...and a similar facial shape…”

Suddenly, a worn down version of Toy Chica walked up to the person and gasped. “Jeremy! Fancy seeing you here!” Chica squawked.

Jeremy widened his eyes. Oh no...Not the toys…

Hey boys! Jeremy’s still here!” Chica reacted.

Toy Freddy, Toy Bonnie and Foxy walked themself to Jeremy and smiled. “

Did someone order an old friend?!" Toy Freddy asked enthusiastically.

Oh no...NOT THESE GUYS AGAIN!

"You won't get tired of my voice... will you?" Toy Chica asked.

To save his butt, Jeremy shook his head no.

“Okay! Good!” Chica replied.

"Is there someone here who needs some extra-special cheering up?" Toy Freddy asked.

Uh oh...That’s not good. Not good at all!

Toy Freddy smiled and turned to the other animatronics. “My friend here is very ticklish! I remember all his ticklish spots too!” Freddy told him.

Oh no...OH GOD NO!

“Oooooh! That tickles me just thinking about it! Do tell!” Funtime Foxy begged.

“Aaaalrighty!” Toy Freddy started pointing to different spots. “His belly is very ticklish! But his armpits are really bad! His hips are a good spot too! And don’t forget those toesies!” Toy Freddy explained.

Jeremy curled his toes, just thinking about it. This cannot be happening...What ever happened to his peaceful walk? Is that just thrown out the window now?

“Alright Jeremy! Time for the tickle tickle tickles!” Freddy decided as he started tickling and poking Jeremy’s belly.

Jeremy jumped and widened his eyes, and quickly covered his mouth. He wasn’t breaking. He wasn’t gonna give them the satisfaction. No way, no how-

Theeen someone went for the armpits…

“aaAAAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHO AHARMPIHIHIHIHITS!” Jeremy shouted.

Well...so much for ‘no breaking’...

“That was quick! Have you been getting more ticklish while I was gone?” Toy Freddy asked curiously.

Hell if he knew! Does anyone get more ticklish over time?! Or is it just him?!

Jeremy squeaked and laughed as his armpits were attacked and played with. This was NOT how he imagined his day to go. But, he had to admit: tickling is better than death.

“OOooooh! He really IS ticklish! Can I try?” Funtime Foxy asked.

“Of course you can! Your nails will work perfectly for what we’re doing!” Toy Freddy replied.

Oh no...NOT THE NAILS!

Funtime Foxy walked to Jeremy’s foot and picked it up. Jeremy immediately grew nervous as he stared at the pink nails. They looked sharp! But they looked SUPER ticklish too…

“Aaaalright! Time to work my magic!” Funtime Foxy started wiggling their fingers eagerly at the toes. Then, they touched down and started skittering all over. “A kitchy kitchy kitchy koo! A kitchy kitchy kitchy kitchy kitchy kitchy koo!”

Jeremy squealed out of surprise and clamped his teeth. His lips began to ripple into a smile as he struggled to handle the ticklish feeling that covered his feet. He soon started humming and giggling a little. “MMmmmmmhmhmhmhmhmhmhm! Hmhmhmhmhmhm-nohohohohohoho!” Jeremy whined. “Stahahap it that ticklhlhlhles!” Jeremy whined a little more.

“Oh really, giggly Jeremy?” Toy Freddy teased. “I couldn’t tell! I thought you found something funny to laugh at!” Toy Freddy teased.

BonBon looked up at Funtime Freddy. “Maybe he was giggling at you!” Bonbon teased to Funtime Freddy.

Funtime Freddy gasped and huffed. “How dare he!” Funtime Freddy looked down at Bonbon and smirked. “Hey Bon-Bon! GO GE-GET HIM!” Funtime Freddy threw Bonbon right at Jeremy. Bonbon smacked Jeremy in the face, but slid down to his belly. Quickly, Bonbon started giggling and wiggling into his shirt.

Jeremy widened his eyes. “Nohohow HOHOHOLD OHOHON! HAHAHAHA THAHAHAT TIHIHIHICKLES! HAHAhahahahAHAHAHAHAha!”

The little version of Bonnie wiggled and shook itself further under the fabric of his shirt, and started tickling with his nubs and blowing robotic raspberries into his belly button.

Jeremy SCREAMED and pretty much tripled his wiggling! He was wiggling so much at this point, that an average human adult would’ve lost grip of his ticklish spots! But NOPE! These were ROBOTS with EXTRA strength on their side. There was NO WAY he was getting out of THIS grip. No way for a long shot!

“HAHAHahahahaAHAHAHAHAHAHA- HEHEHEHEHELP! HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHE!” Jeremy begged to Funtime Freddy’s general direction.

Funtime Freddy just chuckled. “Sorry buddy. But I only have one hand right now! You’re just gonna have to let Bonbon do his tickly thing.” Funtime Freddy replied casually.

If these robots were programmed with any sort of artificial ticklishness, then Jeremy would 100% go for all the spots at once. This was SO unfair! It was 1 against 10-12 animatronics! How was THAT ever fair?! This is like being licked and played with by 12 horses! Though, even horses would offer more empathy to Jeremy than these robots.

Bonbon was giggling along with him as he scurried up Jeremy’s armpit. Almost on cue, Ennard grabbed onto Jeremy’s arm and held it above his head. With the arm open and out of the way, Bonbon wiggled itself to the upper chest and started attacking Jeremy’s armpit with both little nubby hands, AND with the ears! Literally! Even the ears were bending up and down and tickling his armpit! And it felt like being tickled by four nubby hands!

“NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHO! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THE AHAHAHARMPIHIHIHIHIHIHAHAHAHAHA!” Jeremy screamed.

“You’re so silly!” Bonbon declared rather happily.

“That’s enough…” a raspy voice told them. Bonbon jumped and stopped immediately. He refused to come out of the shirt though...Perhaps it was afraid of the voice.

“Come on Bonbon! It’s just-” Funtime Freddy widened his eyes as he realized who it actually was. Funtime Freddy moved out of the way for the creature and stood to the side. This allowed Jeremy a moment or two to see who was talking.

Jeremy stared at the creature in horror and surprise…

It was a green, completely ruined animatronic in the shape of a bunny!

Jeremy felt intense fear filling his thoughts as he gazed upon the green bunny. He felt the desperate need to get the hell out of there! But these freaking robots wouldn’t let him go without another evil tickle attack on the way!

The bunny hobbled closer and stared at the human. Jeremy grew uncomfortable super quickly. The bunny moved into the light, revealing its human, and animatronic mixed appearance. It was hideous to look at!

Jeremy SHRIEKED and wiggled more as he stared at the huge metal buck teeth. IT WAS GONNA EAT HIM! IT WAS GONNA CHOMP HIM LIKE THE OTHER ANIMATRONIC DID! AAAAAAH!

The green bunny scoffed. “Pathetic…” The green bunny muttered before looking a little closer at him. “Wait a minute...This isn’t him at all…” The green bunny turned to the animatronics with a blank animatronic expression. But his inner face could easily tell you he was pissed. “You useless machines! This is the wrong person!” The bunny yelled.

“We know, sir Afton. But the old ones remember him!” Funtime Freddy told him, pointing to the toy animatronics like a toddler.

“What?!” The bunny asked, turning to the toy animatronics.

“This was the security guard that worked at night!” Toy Freddy declared. “Gerald was his name!” he added.

Jeremy couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “It’s Fitzgerald, Fazbear.” Jeremy clarified.

‘Fitzgerald…’ The bunny thought...

“Wait…” The bunny grabbed onto Jeremy’s head and started looking for something on his head. Jeremy started to freak out at first, but slowly calmed down as the bunny moved his bangs out of the way in a surprisingly gentle manner. “It can’t be…”

The bunny soon took notice of the scar on his face and very softly felt it like a blind person would feel braille dots. Jeremy had calmed down rather quickly, and seemed to have grown more curious rather than concerned.

“It is…” The bunny muttered. “Jeremy Fitzgerald…What a pleasant surprise to see you again.” The bunny spoke.

Jeremy looked super nervous and yet, quite confused. Truth was, he was more focused on how boney and hard the bunny’s fingers were…

The bunny quickly noticed this strange reaction. “I see...I imagine you don’t recognize me at all…” the voice told him.

“I...don't, sadly. Do I know you?” Jeremy asked. “You seem to be the only...humane animatronic so far.”

“Humane is not far off, Fitzgerald…” The bunny showed Jeremy his hand and showed him the skull.

Jeremy widened his eyes. “The animatronics have hu-”

“I was in a workplace accident thirty years ago...I still don’t fully understand why I survived.”

Jeremy felt like all the air had evaporated from his lungs. “M-Mike…”

“Mike? Oh no no no…” The bunny opened its mouth as if to smile. “William...William Afton. Former co-owner of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza...And founder of Fazbear Entertainment.” The bunny cleared up.

Jeremy was 5 seconds away from shrieking. William Afton was also a murderer! And he’s alive after all this time!

Jeremy finally pulled his hands out of Ennard’s grip and pulled Bonbon out of his shirt. “Get away from me! You MONSTER!”

The bunny widened his eyes and narrowed his eyes in anger. “And I treated you quite kindly…”

“YOU MURDERER! HOW COULD YOU?!” Jeremy reached into the suit and grabbed the first thing he could. Whatever it was, it was hard and felt like a vertical puzzle piece. “I’ll- I’ll break whatever’s in my hand!”

The bunny chuckled in its very low voice. “There is a metal spine attached to the suit that holds me together. Even if you broke my spine...I will still be able to kill you.”

Jeremy widened his eyes and finally settled for kicking him in the groin to run. But Jeremy’s entire body froze to a halt as intense, mind-numbing pain filled his foot.

Jeremy SCREAMED and pulled his pulsing foot back. He grabbed his foot and hopped backwards to the wall. “Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow! What are you MADE OF?!” Jeremy shouted as he hissed and rubbed his paining foot.

The bunny bursted out laughing at him. “You thought you could immobilize me? I believe you have forgotten I’m partly made of metal.” The bunny reminded him calmly.

The bunny got closer to Jeremy, and stared into him with his icey eyes. “You should’ve went for spine…”

The bunny backed away from Jeremy and looked over at the animatronics for a moment. Then...he looked back at Jeremy with an evil glare on his face. “Seize him.”

Jeremy shrieked and struggled to get away as a crowd of 12 or 15 animatronics completely surrounded Jeremy.

The bunny opened his mouth more, showing his bucktooth smile. “Have some fun with him.” He told the animatronics.

It didn’t take long for squeaks and laughter to fill the backstreet again. Jeremy squirmed around like a worm, and laughed hysterically as multiple ticklish spots were attacked at once.

“NOHOHOHOHOHO! DOHOHON’T LEHEHEHEHEAVE MEHEHEHEHEHEHE WIHIHIHITH THEHEHEHEHEM!” He begged.

“You don’t want me to help you...I might just kill you.” The bunny joked in a dark manner.

Jeremy just about lost it when he said that. Okay! Screw that! Scratch him off the list of people to be saved by!

But there was no one else to save him! Only the murderer Afton could save him from the tickle attacks! And he was the one that caused them to continue!

“Oh! Hey Funtime Foxy! Go for his sides! They’re really bad too!” Toy Freddy suggested.

“Oooooh! Okay!” Funtime Foxy reached her hand out and started squeezing and skittering her pretty pink nails onto both of Jeremy’s sides. “Kitchy kitchy kitchy kitchy koooooo!”

Freddy chuckled. “Hey, where’s the puppet? We should get him here too!”

OH NO! NOT THE PUPPET!

Jeremy yelped and pulled on his bound arms. “NO! NOT THE PUPPET! NAHAHAT THE PUPPET! PLEASE NO!”

Suddenly, a music box sound went off in the background...and a black and white thin creature slowly rose from the box.

“Hey Puppet! Jeremy’s back! Wanna come help us?” Toy Freddy asked.

The puppet climbed out of the music box and tilted his head.

“Yeah! Look at Jeremy! Hasn’t he changed since we last saw him? He looks old now!” Toy Freddy told the puppet.

“HEY! Shut up, you dinosaur!” Jeremy shot back.

Toy Freddy gasped at the retort. “Excuse me?!”

“Yeah! You heard me! Or did you, old hag?” Jeremy teased.

I recognize you, but I’m not afraid of you. Not anymore.” The puppet said with a giggle.

“Oh...Oh that’s wonderful.” Jeremy muttered.

Toy Freddy grabbed Jeremy’s sides. “CHEER UP TIME!” he shouted before squeezing his sides.

Jeremy bursted out laughing wildly and flopped around. It tickled so much! Oh my goodness! Jeremy was a mess of hysterics, and he was growing to love it! Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he thought...

The bunny sighed and rolled his eyes with a little smile as he thought:

‘What a child…’

[luna-spacedoodles]

Spoiler: Rules Were Broken

A Dream Smp x Ever After High AU

Word count: 1,599

Chapter 1 A Royal Tale

Tommy hauled his wagon full of luggage up to the school as Tubbo

walked alongside him with his hands in his pockets.

Tommy grunted to a stop, “Dude why, why can’t you like, help me? Where even is your stuff?”

“All in here, boss man.” Tubbo tipped his comically tiny top hat and Tommy heard a small quack come from inside.

“I- okay can you help me then please?” Tubbo grabbed the handle alongside him and they pulled it together all the way to their dorm.

Tommy bust open the doors and threw a suitcase on his bed quickly following it and flopping in defeat. Tubbo didn’t even make it to his bed before Tommy heard a thud behind him. He didn’t know how long they’d stayed like that until he heard Tubbo placing down his things. Tommy lifted his head to see all his furniture was already there, that was one thing he didn’t have to set up at least.

Tommy opened up his suitcase and started messily throwing the clothes inside to his right, not all of them made it on the bed. Most of them fell onto the floor or got caught on the banister.

“Oh stop dude you’re making a mess.” Tubbo told him after he got a face full of shirt.

“Shut up man, you’re wrong you’re so wrong, I’m being so neat and tidy and shit!” Tommy retaliated only to throw another shirt.

“You literally just missed the bed so far.” Tubbo let out a small laugh at the end and kicked some shorts off his hammock.

Tommy groaned and went to pick up his failed attempts, “Well don’t just sit there if you’re going to groan about it, come help me man!”

“You don’t need my help, you're just shit. Besides I already finished setting up my stuff so that just makes you look even more shit at this.”

“But that’s not fair you got here earlier than me! And it’s not even true, there’s still a whole other half of the room and you’ve just invaded into my space!”

Just as he finished the two boys heard the door open and someone step inside, they both turned to look at someone Tommy had never seen before. He was quite tall and looked funny, his skin was black and white split down the middle of his face, same with his hair but flipped around. He had wide open red and green eyes that seemed fake, like they were made of glass, open far too wide and he didn’t seem to ever blink, yet it seemed the boy was doing everything he could to avoid making eye contact with either of them. Maybe that was a good thing, they didn’t seem like eyes that’d be pleasant to stare at. He had tall horns atop his head and two tails as well, one black and the other white.

“What the fuck??” Tommy shouted raspily in confusion over the unexpected guest.

“Uhm, hi.” The boy managed to spit out as he tightened his grip on his luggage.

“I think you have the wrong room.” Tommy crossed his arms and lent against the bed, he slipped a bit trying to balance himself.

“No he’s got the right room.” Tubbo butted in, he adjusted himself to sit on the edge of the hammock so his feet dangled over the floor.

“What?” The boy and Tommy asked in unison.

“Yeah, something about a student miscalculation or whatever, not enough dorms so we all have to share.”

Tommy looked at the new guy, this wasn’t what he wanted or planned for but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

—

Tommy woke up to a sudden heavy weight on his stomach. Tommy lifted his head and rubbed his eyes to see a blond raccoon with a red handkerchief tied around its neck laid out flat on his stomach, it’s little arms and legs stretched out.

“Oh, hello!” Tommy cooed at the raccoon, giving it some scratches and pats as it chuckled and rolled around in delight. He looked out the window, it was still dark out but he could spot the sun’s light barely reaching over the horizon. Tommy wondered if it was too early to sneak out his dorm and go walk in the forest before breakfast, wasn’t much to do and he didn’t really feel like going back to sleep so taking a quick walk wouldn’t be that bad.

He got dressed and slipped on a white cloak and a small brown backpack as well. Tommy quietly snuck out the window and climbed down the vines on the side of the wall, before he could lift his head up the raccoon had already jumped and landed flat on his face.

“Clementine, I told you to wait.” Tommy groaned muffled under Clementine, she only replied with some chittering that sounded close to laughter as Tommy pulled her off his face. He looked at her and couldn’t bring himself to scold her anymore than that, how could he stay mad at that face. He let her scuttle over him and sit in the open backpack as they walked off into the forest.

On their walk they saw many different creatures and plants, they even stopped by the pond on their way back. By the time they’d gotten back into the dorm the sun was rising and Tommy’s pockets were full of small flowers, pebbles and anything else he could fit inside, even Clementine had a large hoard of berries she’d picked for her breakfast.

Before Ranboo or Tubbo had the chance to wake up Tommy and Clementine were already out the door and on their way to the castleteria, leaving the cloak and bag stuffed back inside the wardrobe. Dashing down the stairs and through the halls he skidded to a stop in front of the castleteria doors, rocking and bouncing back and forth waiting for the doors to open. A bell chimed, the doors opened and Tommy ran up to get his breakfast.

The lunch lady gave him a stack of pancakes with a side of eggs and sausage, he ran off with his tray and sped towards a lone table tucked in a corner. Despite running here full of energy he ate surprisingly slow, Clementine stuffed her face into her berry pile next to him. Students soon flooded into the castleteria including Tubbo and their new roommate, they walked up the stairs to his table and sat down with him.

“Hey Tommy!” Tubbo set down his tray and immediately started eating.

“Hi Tubbo,” Tommy looked up from his food and started at Ranboo, “…Hi Ranboo…”

“Hi.” The boy replied awkwardly, he didn’t seem like he wanted to make any conversation but Tommy didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

Clementine stopped her feasting and hissed in at Ranboo, running onto Tommy’s back and peaking at the stranger over his shoulder. Or maybe it was the gross looking fish soup she was eyeing, Ranboo slid the small bowl over as an offering and Clementine jumped for it, adding it to her stash. Tommy made a funny look at the soup before he went back to his own breakfast.

“ATTENTION STUDENTS!” The castleteria fell silent as everyone turned to look at Headmaster Grimm standing on the balcony, “As Legacy Day is coming very soon, today we’ll be practicing for it! During one of your classes you’ll be led out to practice pledging to follow your destiny and signing the Storybook of Legends! Thank you for your time, please continue your breakfast.”

—

Tommy walked out with the rest of the class to the stage, the place was white and regal, two large staircases either side of the stage and a pedestal at the front. They all lined up in alphabetical order of their last name and took turns practicing.

“Next!” Grimm called Ranboo up. Tommy watched him take the key and walk up to the pedestal.

“Uhm. I, Ranboo Queen, pledge to follow my destiny to be the next Evil… Queen? King?” Ranboo turned to look at Grimm, “Did I do that right?”

“It’s uh, it’ll do.” Grimm replied, taking back the key.

Tommy zoned out for a bit — That was Ranboo Queen? That’s the guy that was gonna poison him? He’d heard lots of mean things about how his destiny goes. He stared at the ground reconsidering how he felt about this guy.

“Next!” Grimm yelled, Tommy looked up and realized he was calling him up. He walked up to him and silently took the key.

“I! Uhm..” Tommy turned around to Grimm, “I have a question?”

“Yes?” Grimm sighed.

“It’s just, what if I don’t want to follow my destiny? Like, what if I want to do my own thing?” Everyone gasped loudly, Grimm looked shocked and angry, he strode over to him and Tommy backed up against the pedestal.

“Now listen here, if you don’t sign that book, your story will go poof. You will go poof.” Grimm stepped back and Tommy inhaled deeply only now realizing he’d been holding his breath, “Now I recommend we move on and continue.”

Tommy turned around and looked out on the crowd, everyone was staring at him judgingly, he looked down at the key in his hand. He threw it harshly onto the ground and started running as fast as he could from there, Clementine jumped off a chair she’d been watching from and scampered after him. Tommy grabbed his cloak from the dorm and ran into a place he knew no one would find him.

[ship-ambrosia]

Chilumi Week Day 3 - Diamond Dust (Snezhnaya)

Summary: Lumine arrives in Snezhnaya earlier than he had planned for.

   It’s snowing.

   Not like snow is any rarity in Snezhnaya, the land of eternal winter. But it’s the first one since he’s been back in his homeland that isn’t a blizzard. Childe liked blizzards more than most - that dangerous way the snow piles on top of you, losing every since of direction while your body grows colder - but it’s been almost nonstop the last few days. The weather drifting now is soft, snowflakes waltzing through the air. In the morning sun they glimmer, like some is shaking dust made of diamonds from the clouds.

   This is the Snezhnaya he wanted Lumine to see.

   Up until now all she has heard is bad things. He had once told her he loved snow because it was the perfect backdrop for bloodshed - he’d seen the look in her eyes. She didn’t like the idea of Snezhnayan snow. But his homeland was beautiful, and he knew as soon as she stepped her foot off the boat, she’d be in love too.

   With Snezhnaya.

   The familiar set of nerves begins to sink in, as it did whenever he thinks about Lumine. He had left Liyue almost immediately after the Lantern Festival; and yet, as long as he’s been back in Snezhnaya, he’d been in Zapolyarny Palace, or the occasional mission for her Majesty. His family didn’t know he was home. They probably thought he was still in Liyue. The next time he saw them, he’d have Lumine with him.

   Their plan had made a lot of sense, actually. The Tsaritsa’s Festival would be soon, which was the only time of year where boats were constantly docking in the city’s port. No one would suspect one more; in fact, the very trustworthy captain Childe had paid to transport his guest in secret was probably bringing people from Liyue here to enjoy the city of snow themselves. Ekaterina was returning on the very boat. No one would expect the Traveler.

   Lumine had thought that catching the Tsaritsa off guard would be the best way to get any information the Archon might know out of her, and he was unfortunately inclined to agree. So not only was he smuggling her into Snezhnaya, but he would be smuggling her into the Palace - right to his Queen. Surely, his actions would be scrutinized, likely punished, but he knew Lumine wouldn’t hurt the Tsaritsa. As much as he hated to admit it - so he didn’t think about it too much - any hostility was likely to come from the Cryo Archon herself.

   He wasn’t expecting the boat for another week. He had preparations to make, plans on how he was going to get her through Snezhnaya without anyone in the Fatui noticing her, one of the Fatui’s most highly ranked enemies. He had just been stretching his legs, taking a walk through the palace, when he’d overheard them, two Fatui agents talking in the halls.

   “Dock schedule for today?”

   “Oh, you should let her Majesty know... we received word that the Tide’s Breath, carrying passengers from Liyue, is arriving ahead of schedule this morning.”

   “Ahead, you say? How early is it?”

   “About a week.”

   Childe stopped dead in his tracks. He replayed the conversation over and over in his head. That was the ship she was on. That was its original arrival plans. Which meant that Lumine was instead arriving today.

   He left the castle before anyone could ask the Eleventh Harbinger where he was going.

~

   Snezhnaya’s port was smaller, less busy than Liyue’s. Where people milled about just to see what they could see in Liyue, only the dock workers were present. Currently, they were letting passengers off a large, beautiful ship, all curves and ornate carvings, marking the vessel of Liyue origins. The Tide’s Breath.

   Childe quickly made his way through the disembarking crowd, too focused on making it up the ramp to care about who he had to push out of the way. He was supposed to be onboard before the passengers were let off. That was his plan. He felt anger welling up inside him. Every minute counted. Every minute he wasted was another one that the Fatui could find their way on the ship, find their way to where Lumine was. Another minute that she could be dead the next.

   Not spotting the captain anywhere on deck, Childe made his way toward the rooms below. Sure enough, he could hear laughter from the room with double doors, two people in conversation. The light giggles that seemed to dance through the air, he knew those. Relief flooded his veins. She was fine.

   Pausing for a moment to compose himself, Childe gave a quick scan of the boat around him before stretching out his hands and pushing the doors to the room open. He stopped just in time to prevent the blade that was pointed at him from burying into his chest. All three of them froze, but Childe had a smile on his face. The doors swung closed behind him.

   “Well, I appreciate the warm welcome, girlie,” he spoke first, eyes glimmering with delight. He loved the way she made his heart race. Every damn time.

   He watched Lumine’s expression change from a tempered ferocity, to surprise, to relief. Her sword magically disappeared once again, and Lumine put her hands on her hips. Her expression changed again to one he was very familiar with - annoyance.

   “Did you really have to barge in here without knocking? I could’ve killed you.”

   “When have I ever let that stop me from doing anything?” He asked her, seriously.

   She shook her head - and then shocked him by moving forward and pulling him into a hug as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. He was so much taller than her that the top of her head barely crested his shoulders; which meant that when he looked down, he could clearly see all of her. Part of him wasn’t sure it was real. He felt the adrenaline kick in, his heart started to race - but it was in an entirely different way than usual.

   “I’m so glad to see you again,” Lumine told him as she untangled her arms from around him. The young man from Snezhnaya found himself cold after she broke away.

   He looked toward her, this girl who he had tricked, tried to kill, and then sent an evil god to attack the harbor she was staying in, and thought about what she had just said. “Me too.”

   Clearing his throat, clearly to remind the two of them he was still there, the captain stepped over to them and clasped a hand on Lumine’s shoulder. “She was a delight to have on board, Tartaglia. Sorry about the early arrival. We had to get creative when your Fatui friend nearly came upon Miss Lumine. So the lass used her Anemo Vision to speed us up a bit. I thought it’d be suspicious if we didn’t dock even though we had arrived.”

   Childe cursed under his breath. He had known the risk he posed by putting Ekaterina on the same boat as Lumine. But he’d also hoped the Fatui would pay attention to her arrival, and use it to explain Childe’s interest in the boat. “Lumine, I’m sorry.”

   “Don’t be,” she answered softly. “You still got me here.”

   “We’ve got another problem though,” the captain said, and Childe immediately tensed. Had someone discovered her anyway? Who was he going to have to silence? He was thrown off guard though, when the captain yanked his coat off Childe’s shoulders.

   “Your lady friend here didn’t bring any warm clothes for Snezhnaya!” He exclaimed, draping Childe’s coat over her shoulders. “You oughta go buy her some.”

   “You didn’t buy any coats when you knew you were coming here?” He stared at Lumine in surprise.

   “I didn’t think about it... that it’s not like an expedition in Dragonspine,” she admitted. “Sorry.”

   He chuckled a bit. She was the savior of every city she found herself in, a skilled swordsman, a master investigator... and yet she had forgotten to buy a coat to go to the land of the Cryo Goddess. Childe turned to the captain, dropping a small pouch with the last of the payment he owed him inside. Clasping his own hand on Lumine’s shoulder, he grinned at her. “I’ve never taken a lady shopping before.”

~

   “Your family knows I’m coming right?” She asked as they were perusing the selection of a clothing store in Snezhnaya. Just as Childe had predicted, the moment they had exited the docks and entered the city, he had watched Lumine’s eyes light up. Snezhnaya had surprised her. He was still holding on to that warm feeling that had spread through his chest when he looked at her, that brilliant smile, framed by the diamond dust around her, like the embers of a fire that refused to burn out.

   Now he found it kind of funny, the two of them hiding in the back of a store from the eyes of the Fatui. The lone shopkeep had no idea that two of the strongest fighters in all of Teyvat were shopping for coats in his store right now.

   “Yes, but not until next week,” he pursed his mouth, looking at a navy and black coat. Maybe it was stupid, but he didn’t think Lumine would want to wear dark clothes. “I’m still figuring out what we’re going to do.”

   “Next week? Why don’t you just tell them my boat arrived early? That’s what happened,” she pointed out, and Childe realized he had neglected to tell her parts of his own plan.

   “Girlie I’m uh... not staying with my family, currently,” he stopped looking at the clothes, and turned to her. “I’ve been staying in the Tsaritsa’s palace. My family doesn’t know I’m in Snezhnaya yet.”

   She crossed her arms. “Well what are we going to do for a week? I don’t think I can stay in Zapolyarny Palace.”

   Despite their dilemma, he chuckled at the ridiculous idea. Right, the place he was going to smuggle her into on the last night of the Tsaritsa’s Festival. Probably not good to try and hide her there for not one week, but two.

   “I’ll think of something. See any coats you like?” He asked, handing a bundle to her. “Nothing like a genuine coat from the land of snow itself. Maybe this was your plan all along.”

   She rolled her eyes, and reached for one to begin trying them on, the coat a baby blue color. “I think a coat from Liyue probably would have been cheaper.”

   “Hey, I’m paying so it’s fine,” he turned back to the hangers to look for more in her size.

   “A week!” She mumbled to herself from behind him. “Sometimes when Paimon and I were out exploring, we’d lose track of time and be out there camping for three weeks! And now we don’t know what to do for one!”

   His hands stopped. “Girlie, I think you just solved our problem.”

   Realizing what Childe meant, he heard her rustling stop, too. “I’ve never been to Snezhnaya. There’s probably dozens of ruins and monsters out in the mountains.”

   “There is,” a grin found its way onto his face at the thought of seeing her in action again. He whipped around to face her. “And I, the Eleventh Harbinger, can be your-“

   The words died in his throat. It turns out the rustling hadn’t stopped because she was thinking, but because she had slipped a second coat on. He didn’t even remember pulling a white coat from the store, but she stood before him, white fur from the hood brushing her cheeks. That warmth spread through him again - but this time it was less gradual, less soft, and more like the bright burst of pain from being stabbed. Petals in his chest unfurled with a furious speed. He knew why. He knew it was because she looked absolutely beautiful; and the coat reminded him she was here, she was in Snezhnaya. She was with him, just the two of them.

   “Is something wrong?” She asked.

   “I think we should get that one,” he answered quickly, marching over to the shopkeeper and throwing down his bag of mora on the counter. Lumine followed him, he could practically hear her confusion in her breathing. Childe, for his part, refused to look at her. He knew he had to look ridiculous.

   He was quiet as they excited the shop, too, alert and aware of everyone around them as he led Lumine through the streets toward an inn. He knew he could keep her hidden there, amongst the crowds of ordinary people, for at least a night or two.

   “Childe,” she slipped her hand into his and tugged, stopping him.

   “What are you doing? We can’t stop in the middle of the street?” He knew he was blushing this time. Damn it, he was supposed to be the bloodthirsty, warrior of the Harbingers. He wasn’t supposed to just blush.

   But when he looked at Lumine, her eyes were sparkling, a smile across her face. And the damn snow. The snow made her look even more beautiful. And he thought that no sane person could resist something like that.

   “Back in the store... were you going to say you wanted to come with me?”

   “A week with you out in the Snezhnayan wilderness, fighting monsters and finding treasure?” He couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice, either. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get lost out there, and Paimon’s not here.”

   She seemed to consider his words for a moment, before moving so that she was walking beside him, rather than behind. She didn’t untangle from him this time - she kept her hand firmly grasping his. “We have a deal.”

   He continued with her to the inn, as the snow continued to drift around him, and Childe was pretty sure he’d be able to get a week off from the Fatui to explore with her.

[i-okamie]

How Did I End Up Here ? Ch3

When things slip away it's not always that obvious. It all comes soflty. Sometime you don't realize that you're breaking down before you've lost the pieces.

Ch 1  //  Ch 2  //  Ao3

Maybe she has hit her head harder than she thought. Lena knows that concussions usually happen few hours after the shock and not two days later, but she wouldn’t put it past fate to play yet another trick on her. Or maybe it is a fifth dimension being messing with her. Hadn’t Kara talked about some man from this dimension being able to bend the universe to his will? Whatever it is, she cannot figure out why of all things Kara would say that.

It’s not logical.

“What?” the word leaves Lena’s lips before she can stop it. She doesn’t understand Kara’s reaction.

She knows she looks bad. Poor Jess dropped all the papers she was preparing for the meeting with the investor when she saw her boss walking in. Battered. That’s the word she used once the initial shock had passed. And she had kept a close eye on the young woman since then, regularly finding excuses to walk in office, using the intercom to ask for her approval, and so on. But Lena isn’t surprised by the older woman mother like comportment, after all they have many hours working together. Now that she thinks about it, she should really give Jess a raise for still working for her after all the assassination attempts, her brother’s manipulation, and the daxamite invasion.

“Lena.” Kara reaches for her hand but stop midway, as if thinking better of it. “What happened to you?”.

What happened? Lena bristles internally.

What about discovering that the whole new life she has built in National City was based on lies? Or all the people stealing glances whenever she goes outside, waiting to see if she will finally turn out evil like the rest of her family? That the friends she thought she had finally found were never hers, but Kara’s and that they simply tolerated her? What about her brother using her again, knowing the young woman was so desperate to be accepted that few scraps of attention from him would have be at his beck and call? And how could she explain the sleepless nights spent grieving all what could have been with her sweet Kara Danvers, her little walking sunshine, for it to be replaced by Supergirl’s distrust and schemes to go behind her back?

Instead of saying any of it, the brunette decides to take a deep breath. Nothing good will come out of it, and she doesn’t have the energy to fight with the reporter today.

“I fell. You know I work a lot and sleep very little. I got up to fast and got lightheaded. You can probably figure out the rest of it.” She offers half the truth. That’s the best way to get Kara off her back quickly, and there is really no other way to explain the state of her face.

“What about the cut on your palm? There is nothing in your office that could have caused it, and I don’t picture you cooking on the rare times you get back home these days” Kara counters, raising a dubious eyebrow.

“Well” Lena starts, then pause. These days?

How does Kara know she barely set foot in her apartment anymore, desperate to avoid memories of easier times? Sure, the blonde woman remembers all the times she almost literally dragged her out of office, saying something about needing sun and fresh air like all humans do. But there is no way that the she could know that now Lena dutifully avoids going back to her place. Being a young woman running a company such as L-corp, she has plenty of excuses at the ready to stay in her office at night. Thinking about her apartment brings once again memories of the incident two nights ago … then it all makes sense. Kara’s slip up, her lame excuse to come check on her, the glass shard she found once she woke up.

“You were here, weren’t you?” she says softly, as if she was talking to herself more than the woman sitting next to her.

“What? Lena, what are you talking about?” the reporter asks, eyes brows knit together with confusion.

“How could you know that I’ve barely been at my place lately?” the brunette asks coldly “you said yourself that I rarely get back home. And that is something one would expect a friend to know and worry about. But you’re not my friend Kara, and you’ve never been. Do I need to explain why again? Maybe this time you’ll finally understand”. Anger and weariness are finally getting the best of her. They have had this conversations times and times again, but the stubborn alien will not leave her alone. She will inevitably come back in her life, and every times Lena sees the blonde’s ponytail and glasses only to remember what it is supposed to hide, it reopens the wound all over again. The CEO can almost feel it throbbing in her chest. How could she have been so foolish, so blind to all of it?

“Friends do not lie to one another. They do not hide who and what they are. Because by doing that from the very beginning, Supergirl, you never gave me a real chance to choose if we should be more than professional acquaintances. While you knew everything from me and were able to weigh the pros and cons of spending time with a Luthor, all I could base my choice on was the image of Kara Danvers solely. A young woman coming from Midvale, a starting reporter at CatCo, and more importantly, an innocent human that could have got hurt because she was spending time with me.”

Kara looks at her with those big blue eyes she spent so much time looking at, tears starting to gather. And that’s all Lena need to fuel her anger. How dare she act like she didn’t know what she was doing from the very start?

“Can you imagine what it felt like for me to think that I was putting you in danger every minute we spent together? That by simply wanting to be friends, it would put a target on your back? I thought I’d get you killed. One day Alex would call me or knock on my door and tell me something terrible at happened: you’d be held hostage, you’d have a car accident, my brother’s minions would have put a bullet through your head, … And every time you would be dead because of me!” Just mentioning it is enough to bring images flashing through Lena’s mind and have her shaking with horror as well as rage. “But it was all for naught, wasn’t it? Because vulnerable human Kara Danvers does not exist. There is only Supergirl.”

She is now leaning toward the blonde. A scorpion gauging its prey. And ready to strike.

“And what a smart move it was on your side, I must admit that I am impressed. Having two personas was the perfect way to keep tabs on me, to see if what I would confide to Kara would concur with what I’d say to Supergirl. The smallest slip up, the tiniest difference, and you’d have all you ever needed to throw me in that dark place within the DEO that already has my name on it” Lena spits coldly “So please spare me the act of being worried about me now Ms. Danvers, and tell me what you need from me this time again.”

Kara is looking at her with a stricken expression. Anguish and confusion are battling on her face, showing in small flashes. Under any other circumstances Lena would bask in the fact she finally managed to get Kara utterly silent, but all Lena can taste is the bitterness of her own words.

The young reporter seems gather herself quickly after the initial shock and starts her usual rambling “Lena that’s not … why did you never tell me about all this, about imagining the worst scenarios? Rhao, I can’t imagine what it must have been like from your point of view.” The tears that had previously gathered in her eyes are now falling down freely along her cheeks and her voice is a bit strangled with emotion “I never thought about it that way, and I’m so sorry you had to deal with that on your own. I am terrible friend, I should have seen …”

“Were you at my place two nights ago?” Lena interrupts her.

“I wasn’t spying on you, I swear!” Kara’s gaze is flicking anxiously around the room “I wanted … I needed to know that you were fine. And I know that I’m nothing but a liar, a traitor to your eyes, I know that. But I need you to believe me when I say that I do care about you.”

She takes a steadying breath before explaining.

“Yes I was there, but not from the beginning. I was coming back from patrol when I passed nearby. I wasn’t spying but I used to focus on your place to know you were alright and uh … old habits die hard I guess?” Kara scratches the back of her head then mumbles something that Lena don’t quite catch about coming off wrong and sounding like a creep, then continues. “I heard breaking glass. I thought maybe it was someone breaking in and that you were in troubles so I came as fast as I could. When I reached your balcony you were standing up in front of the bookshelves. You were swaying so badly, and before I knew what was happening you were falling to the ground. I didn’t get time to catch you and when I got by your side, wouldn’t react when I called your name!”

She is now wringing her hands at the memory, seeing the scene unfold in her mind and feeling the fear constricting her chest all over again. Kara had imagined the worst while holding protectively in her arms the unresponsive woman. What had happened? Was Lena sick? Poisoned? Her breathing was fine, her heartrate perfectly normal and she couldn’t see any wound beside a nasty gash on her palm. But she isn’t a doctor and she won’t risk her friend’s life. Maybe she should bring her to the DEO to ask Alex to check what is going on? They surely would be able to help her.

The superhero then assessed her surroundings, looking for any clue she could give her sister to figure out what happened to Lena. She then realized the alcohol puddle in which the books were soaking along with glass shards. There was an empty glass on the kitchen island as well. Taking everything in account Kara has a better idea of the situation and feels immediate relief: no one attacked Lena. But it means she did all this to herself.

Knowing how angry Lena would be to know Kara has seen her in that state, the blonde decided that the best course of action is to limit the damages while pretending she never came in the first place. She picked up the books and placed them out of the puddle, she gathered most of the shards to make sure Lena wouldn’t hurt herself further, and finally she gently laid Lena on the floor. It tore at her heart to do so but there was no way Lena wouldn’t remember her fall and so expect to be on the ground. And after a last check on her, Kara left. Promising herself she would come check how Lena was doing soon but not the day right after to not raise any suspicion.

So much for that part of the plan.

Kara gets back to present when Lena snaps her finger, trying to catch the blonde’s attention.

“Yeah! Right! You were not answering but from what I could see no one had attacked you and you would be fine. I knew you’d be pissed to see me there so I decided to pretend I didn’t see.” A flash of guilt crosses the woman face before she adds softly “I lied to you again. I’m sorry Lena.”

Lena was expecting to feel enraged. She had been right! Kara was there, keeping an eye on her, and went as far as coming into her home knowing she wasn’t welcome there anymore. But the reporter’s apologies had somehow managed to ring true for once and Lena didn’t see the point into fighting over this. All she felt at the moment was exhaustion and the need for a drink. It was what had landed her in this situation but she couldn’t help it and she had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Kara, it was a one-time accident. You’re right, I don’t appreciate you coming in my apartment uninvited. Being a superhero doesn’t mean you’re above the law. However I will let it slide for this time because I’m the one who created this mess and I could have indeed needed medical attention. But don’t do it again. I’m not my brother but it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to keep a kryptonian at bay if need be.” She stands up, and watch the weigh of her strike her former friend, making her clench her fists in a white knuckles grip. Good.

She walks toward the door of her office and is pleased to hear ruffling sounds, indicating that Kara is standing as well, and that her message has been heard for once and her wish to be alone will be granted soon.

“Now if this all what you came for, I’d like you to leave. I have a company to run.”

Kara doesn’t say answer back. She doesn’t even look at Lena, her eyes trained to the floor. She simply walks out, somehow seeming smaller and defeated.

Then Lena clicks the door shut. She thought she would feel relief, even joy, at seeing Kara finally doing what she asked her to. But now, alone her empty office, she felt numb. Drained.

Maybe that’s what prompted her to open the bottom drawer of her desk and get the whiskey flask stored there. She downs a few gulps before putting it back in its place. At least now she feels the alcohol burn instead of emptiness.

[19mrs-barnes17]

Decide

Summary: You neighbor’s clock is evil and the walls are very thin.

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: injury, hospital, ...that’s it?

Word count: 3.412

A/N: Gonna open up my requests for dialogue prompts with a pairing. Enjoy!

~

The noise was obnoxious, so early in the morning it echoed through the paper thin walls. With a groan you rolled out of bed and slipped into exercise gear. This was becoming a real inconvenience for your lazy natured ass and you did not appreciate it. Stuffing your card into the secret slit in your waistband you waltzed out the door, locking up your apartment as you slipped in your bluetooth headphones. When you reached the staircase you pressed play on spotify before sliding your phone into your single pocket on your thigh and speeding down the steps. 

Working out was not an activity you particularly enjoyed doing, but the reward of adrenaline and energy was enough that you began to mind the early wake ups less each day. They had become part of your routine and besides, you were far too nice to tell your neighbor that his alarm echoed into your room and woke you bright and early every day. You were stuck in the habit anyhow, if you didn’t hear the alarm you’d be worried. 

On the bright side your endurance was improving with each early morning jog, and yet your courage was at a standstill. Your neighbor was gorgeous, and an absolute sweetheart who had helped you move into your apartment two months ago. Yet neither of you had made a move. Not once.

Today you planned on changing that, tired of waiting for him to do something and done with worrying if he didn’t feel the same. You were in the mood to move against the grain, be the first to make a move. A to hell with it type headspace.

As you jogged down the sidewalk you decided to change your usual route, opting to run laps around the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool in front of the Washington Monument instead. The area was empty when you arrived, not a soul in sight as you began your first lap. Soon enough, however, you found that a man began to pass you repeatedly and often within the same lap. You knew it was your neighbor Steve, and boy was he driving you crazy muttering those three damn words every time he sped by.

“On your right.” Though you had your music playing, his voice still broke through, the vocals and instruments not loud enough to drown him out. You really wanted to retort or show him off, but you knew that you had to conserve your energy if you were to keep going. Your pride refused to let you stop before he did. While you kept a constant speed and never sped up out of spite, it took all of your energy to do so. 

“On your right.” You really were gonna let him have it for these taunts, they were killing you. He was relentless and you were becoming exhausted the more you heard him utter that phrase. This was ridiculous, just because you didn’t have the endurance of a super soldier didn’t make you weak. And yet, you’re stupid pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let you quit. 

“On your right.” You couldn’t help but let a laugh slip as he passed by, you could see a hint of a smile dance across his lips as he rounded the corner. When he reached the steps he slowed to a stop, you thanked the gods, reaching the same point a minute or two later and collapsing onto a step. 

“Has. Anyone. Ever. Told you. That you. Inspire serious. Competition?” Your words came out in chunks as you struggled to reign in enough oxygen, heart pounding in your chest like a beast. Steve shook his head with a smile, rubbing his neck as a chuckle slipped from his lips. “Well you do, kudos though, you have a terrifyingly good endurance.”

“Um, thank you?” You laughed softly, taking deep breaths as you leaned back on the steps with your head tilted toward the rising sun. “So, how are you liking the city?”

“Never lived in one before, only in smaller towns that no one knew unless they grew up nearby. It’s a faster change of pace, really keeps me on my toes.” He watched you speak with such intent, listening carefully. “And the people aren’t too bad.”

“That’s good to hear.” You pushed off the step and stretched out your sore muscles, definitely going to be feeling that later. Pulling out your headphones and stuffing them into your only pocket, you plucked out your phone and paused the playlist. 

“You have a place you usually go after a run?” He cocked his head to the side with a perplexed expression that was vaguely puppy-like. “To eat? Or get coffee or something?”

“Oh, uh no. I usually just head back to my apartment or work.” 

“Well if you’re not busy I’m headed to Jo’s down the way. She has the best pastries and I’m told the coffee is to die for.” He nods softly and you motion for him to follow you, eyes watching over your shoulder as he moves to your side. 

“Not a coffee fan?” You shook your head, gesturing that you were ‘kind of’ one but not really.

“I like the sugary frozen drinks, but straight up coffee doesn’t give me any energy and so I pretty much find it useless. I’m more of a tea fan anyway.” 

The smell of the coffee beans hit you and you couldn’t help but smile as you inhaled the delicious scent. It always betrayed you, made you seem like a fan or an addict but you simply enjoyed the scent not the taste. One peppermint tea and a cinnamon muffin later, you sat with Steve talking about your lives. Though you had read his in history classes and in museums, you preferred hearing the story from the source. The lives you led were different, on many accounts, and yet somehow the two of you shared a state of mind. You were different people with different thought processes, but you had similar values and hearts.

“Sorry, I’ll just be a minute.” Steve waved off your concern as you stood to exit the cafe with your phone to your ear. The conversation lasted longer than you would have liked, but telling your mother you had to go meant absolutely nothing. It may be a stereotype that mid-westerners take forever to say goodbye, yet it was so utterly true. Especially when it came to family and friends. Thankfully Steve was very considerate and waited with patience as you struggled to end the phone call that had accomplished its goal 10 minutes ago. 

He found it rather amusing to watch you visibly become a completely different person than he knew. Though arguably he had lived next door to you for two months and hardly spoke to you, and yet he knew you to be quite shy and not too talkative. But with someone you knew, words just seemed to flow consistently and naturally from your lips. The way your body language shifted intrigued him, made him want to become someone you felt that comfortable around. It was a version of you he had only seen in glimpses when running with you this morning. The way you loosened up when he teased you, the lightness of your laughter nearly making him swoon. 

Inside the building you went your separate ways, not crossing paths until the next morning when you bumped into him in the hall. You began to wonder if he had waited for you, as you had taken longer to get yourself ready that morning and stopped to snack on an apple. But you bit your tongue and followed his lead. 

“What do you do?” He stood at the bottom of the steps in front of you, watching you curiously as you sat upon the step with your chin in your hands.

“Like as a career?” A nod and you shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips as he shook his head at you. “I’m a forensic pathologist, specializing in identifying causes of death essentially.”

This new routine became your new normal, every day you would run with Steve and talk about your lives. Each morning brought new topics of discussion until eventually they became the most absurd of thoughts. Some runs ended with silly banter while others were followed by analyzing bad dreams, each talk bringing you closer together. He was becoming someone you would go to when you were stressed or when you needed a second opinion. He was becoming your closest friend in the new city. And yet you still longed for more.

“How come you never go on any dates?” He nearly choked on his water, coughing words of confusion with a bemused expression. 

“I could ask you the same.” You shrugged with a fading smile, eyes trailing toward the window as you shifted on his stool. 

“Just not the object of any guy’s affection I guess.” 

“Maybe they’re too scared or nervous.” You smiled softly and returned your gaze to his gentle blue eyes that held a look you couldn’t read. “I don’t doubt that there are dozens of men interested in you.”

“Then these bastards should start speaking up, I’m pretty damn oblivious when it comes to signals apparently.” Steve mumbled something under his breath and you barely caught it. “What was that Rogers?”

“Nothing.” He was saved by the ringing of his phone, you could almost see the relief in his posture as he moved to his room to take the call.

You sipped your glass of lemonade slowly, eyeing the way storm clouds seemed to be gathering in the distance. Might be a rainy run tomorrow, but Steve always had a remedy for such situations. He provided you with one of his rain jackets, and even wore one himself after you insisted upon it. Even if he was genetically modified you were pretty sure he was not immune to the common cold. 

He emerged with a solemn expression and you immediately pushed off the stool, brow knit together in worry. Steve waved off your concern, explaining that he had been called in for a mission and would be gone for at least a week. You were bummed but understood that duty called and who were you to deny Captain America. 

“I wonder if I’ll just wake up that early out of habit for a few days.” 

“What do you mean?” You had forgotten that he still didn’t know that he was the reason you had begun to run in the mornings in the first place. 

“I only took up running because your alarm clock wakes me every day at an ungodly hour.” You cringed as you forced the words out, his expression growing more and more baffled. “Paper thin walls Steve.”

“So all this time…” You nodded, laughing softly at the way he seemed to kick himself for waking you daily. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m too polite.” He was reeling from this confession and a laugh of disbelief slipped from his lips and he gazed at you bewildered. “Plus, you waking me everyday gave me an excuse to finally get into exercising in the morning. Ever since I moved in, your alarm clock has been my greatest nemesis.”

His laughter was light and infectious, his guilt seeming to fade as his eyes squeezed shut and his smile spread from cheek to cheek. 

“Don’t know what I’m going to do without it for a whole week.” His eyes softened, mind seeming to be scheming behind them. 

“I could call you.” His gaze shifted to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck. “If you want, keep you on track.”

“I’d like that, but your ass better factor in time difference.” His eyes flickered to yours and returned your smile. 

“Yes ma’am.”

The next morning he knocked on your door and sent you off on your first run without him in ages, while he hopped into a sleek black car and faded into the horizon. It was lonelier than you remembered, but his texts buzzing on your watch cheered you on. Without fail the man called the same time every morning, even if he was supposed to be in a briefing he delayed it for a minute or two. He did his best to send you silly gifs, which you had introduced him to, in hopes of making you smile. 

The mission had been extended. And without missing a beat Steve kept his promise, not missing a call and always sending you a goodnight text even if he still had a debriefing and would be up for another hour or two.

If you had learned anything about Steve, it was that he somehow found the strangest gifs you had ever seen in your life. They never quite matched what he meant and yet you began to become fluent in his gif language. You on the other hand were easily understood, your gif selection unparalleled apart from perhaps your brother. But Steve? Bless his heart, the man did his best and was slowly improving with time.

But in all seriousness, you had learned that he had the biggest heart of anyone you had ever known. He selflessly gave you a wake up call daily, made sure to check in so you didn’t worry about his safety, and always sent you to sleep with a text wishing you sweet dreams. Steve was sweet and he had an odd but sometimes hidden sense of humor. 

If he didn’t have your heart before... he did now. Totally and completely.

When the next morning she awoke to the ringing of her phone she expected his voice to be on the other end. However, when her mother’s voice emanated from the other end of the line she was perplexed. 

“Mom? What is it? It’s very early in the morning.” Her voice was shaky on the other end and you immediately sat up in bed. 

“It’s your brother, he’s in the hospital. There was a car accident, a drunk driver, he’s okay but he’s in surgery now.” 

You were anxiously tapping your foot on the rug of the waiting room, brain still not quite awake enough to fully process the situation. Your brother had come out of surgery but was not awake yet, so you sat with his fiance and your mother not speaking a word. The buzzing of your watch caught your attention, a text from Steve bringing you back to reality. You sent a quick response saying where you were with the room number included as the doctor approached. 

Steve was frantic on his way to find you in the hospital, his mind racing through thought after thought. He hadn’t felt this afraid in a long time. He hated the feeling. When he saw you standing in the hall grabbing a snack from a vending machine he released a sigh of relief.

“We really need to work on elaboration of details in your texts.” You knit your brow, arching an eyebrow as he read out your words. “In hospital, room 315. Don’t worry.”

“You can’t blame my tired brain, it doesn’t make sense earlier than 7am. Or even after if we’re being honest.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry I made you worry. I’m here for my brother, he just got out of surgery. Drunk driver hit him.”

His arms were around you in a heartbeat and you were momentarily taken aback before hugging him back. You would never have the courage to admit how good it felt to be held by him, the warmth and comfort he provided. When he pulled back you felt the absence of his warmth and almost shivered.

“How is he?”

“He’s okay, bed-rest for at least a month or so to recover. Lucky bastard made it out alright.” You smiled at your little brother through the open doorway. “Thanks for coming, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I might be here a while.”

“Of course I do.” You cocked your head to the side, not quite following his thought process. “You support the people you love, especially when something happens to one of their family members.”

You met his gaze, a weight being placed over your heart. You couldn’t decipher whether he meant that as a close friend or more, the line was too blurry to comprehend. Your mind was in a state of debate, running through the past month and half meticulously. Had he given signs that you had missed? You were never sure about what could be read as more than a friendship, always too afraid to be wrong. 

He must have sensed the conflict in you, reading it in your eyes or your expression. Steve took a deep breath and uttered three words you never thought you’d hear. Especially not from a man you had previously expected to remain your neighbor. They made your chest flutter, your cheeks flushing under his gaze. You were speechless, completely and utterly unable to form a coherent thought.

“Are you sure?” Minutes of silence and your doubt still won over your voice, his brow furrowing at the question.

“I’m sure.”

“How do you know?” You couldn’t help it, your mind simply couldn’t comprehend the idea that he had fallen in love with you in about two months. He was quiet for what felt like a long period of time before he finally spoke and rendered you once more speechless.

“Because you’re the first person I want to see in the morning. You’re the only thing on my mind all day when I’m supposed to be focusing on missions and briefings. And you’re the only person I can sit with in a silent room and be content.” He smiles and laughs, almost to himself before continuing. “I love the way you get so worked up about tv shows and their accuracy. I love the way you tilt your head to the side and furrow your brow when you see something that confuses the hell out of you. I can’t get over how you always seem to know every song that comes on the radio, or the lyrics to all the theme songs of the shows you watch. And I love that you find that a critical element of tv, and how you shame Netflix for having a skip button for the intro.”

“If it’s not good enough to watch every time then the show needs a new theme.” You say matter of factly and Steve chuckles as he shakes his head, raising his hands in surrender. “You know it's true.”

“I mean it Y/N. I love all the things that make you who you are. Even the flaws that make you a human being. Especially those.” Your lips part slightly in awe. “Because I love who you are and I love you.”

“I think I’ve loved you ever since you first mocked me on a run.” 

“I did not mock you.”

“You were cocky about your speed and you totally mocked my average speed.” 

“You are so dramatic.”

“Which apparently you love.”

“Got me there.”

“You’ve greenlit my weirdness as a trait of attraction. No turning back.”

“I have a feeling I’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.”

“Oh you have no idea.”

You smirked, eyes twinkling mischievously at him and eliciting a laugh in response. He leaned in and kissed you fervently, your arms wrapping around his neck as he held you close. Steve’s forehead rested against yours, eyes gazing into yours intently.

“You’re going to experience a complete change in your sense of humor, trust me. I have a very twisted and odd sense of humor.” You place a hand on his chest and raise your brows. “You’re also going to end up swearing more often. These are simply traits that people always seem to acquire after spending a lot of time around me.”

“Can’t wait.”

“This also means I am likely going to become much more patriotic and heroic. And I may mess around with your shield, but don’t worry about that.”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

“This is just a taste of what you’re getting into.”

“Anything with you is something I can handle, because it means you are by my side along the way.”

“Jesus Christ I’ve unlocked Captain America’s flirt function, is it a switch or a dial?”

“Neither.”

“I’m going to become mush at this rate.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Never.”

~

Tags: @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​ @asphalt-cocktail​ @gstran18​ @cantnkrusshedevil​

Send asks to join character tags or the everything tag!

[spiiderwiick]

Compared to the first day, in which they had a clown chomp on their hand, today had gone much smoother. They’d had the idea to set up a little blanket fort for her and later made many home-made circus tent jokes to themself. Patches had taken well to it and mostly remained in there, much like a cat hiding under a bed in a new home.

Wick had learned quickly that Patches had a thing about the idea of magic. She seemed genuinely unsettled by it. They found that odd given how clearly magic she was with her rainbow clown jelly, unnatural healing ability, not to mention the ability to get anywhere she pleased. They’d made a point to let anyone interacting with her know not to bring it up. At all. No magic allowed.

Patches had rediscovered her phone today and Wick had to very quickly come up with a mundane, non-magical reason that it works. They weren’t sure how old she was or what her current worldly perspective was, but they figured carrier pigeons and mailmen were a close enough analogy. She called it a birdbox. They nodded in agreement, it’s a birdbox.

Soon after, someone introduced her to cat videos, which thankfully took up most of the day, except for the parts where she ended up on a rabbit hole that took her to food videos and she started demanding fish and other tasty things. That was fine, they’d been wanting sushi lately anyway.

The day was winding down, the sun was setting and nothing had exploded. Wick wouldn’t ever truly let their guard down, not around Patches, but from the other side of the room, they were confident they could move quickly enough to outrun a baby.

They take a seat across from the blanket fort, leaning their back against the wall, “hey patches? you mind if i ask you a couple questions?”

Patches lifts the blanket curtain blocking the entrance to her lair. She doesn’t look terribly thrilled to be bothered, but since Wick has been feeding her, she’s willing to humor them, “What?”

Ah. They decide they need to tread carefully, “how uh.. how old are you? you seem kinda young to be out on your own.”

The clown narrows her eyes at them, “Dunno.”

Wick isn’t sure if she’s being difficult on purpose or if she genuinely doesn’t know. Even the Patches they knew was always vague with her age. They decide to try a different approach, “do you remember how many winters you’ve seen?”

“Winters..?” Her eyes drop to the floor in thought, “I think... Seven? I don’t like winter. It’s cold and there’s less food.”

Wick nods. Seven was a good ballpark, depending on the sort of critter Patches is, she might not remember her first year or two, most seemed to lose those early on. They’d hazard a guess at her being eight or nine. Still absolutely a baby, even if not a literal toddler, “yeah? yeah.. it’s not so bad here at least. what was.. what is your home like?”

“I don’t have one.” Her frown returns, “I never had one.”

They can feel their heart breaking with every little detail Patches reveals, and have to keep reminding themself about who she is when she grows up. Regardless of how they try to help her now, she’s almost assuredly going to return to her usual awful self later. They already knew the answer to their question, “really? what about family?”

Patches shakes her head, “I came outta an egg but I never saw another monster like me. I am all by myself.”

“then where.. where in the world have you been living?”

She crawls a little further out of her fort to sit on the floor, “Everywhere. I sleep in trees and in alleys and sometimes hide out in people’s houses when it’s too cold or rainy. Sometimes I can even get away with taking their food before they can catch me!”

Wick is only mildly perturbed by her sense of pride at that. They’ve read enough novels about kids on the run, on their own, “you just scavenge for food wherever you can get it, huh?”

“Or I hunt.” Patches lifts her head and those round pupils thin a bit into predatory slits at the thought, “I’m really good at hunting!”

“heh.. i bet you’ve got lots of practice.” Wick does not like the way they’re being watched all of a sudden, “you just hunt whatever you can catch, yeah?”

Patches nods, “I’m really good at catching rabbits and squirrels and birds and people and fish and stuff.”

Wick’s expression falls, “...people?”

“Uh-huh!” Patches doesn’t see anything wrong with this and hops up onto her feet in her excitement, “They try to hurt me sometimes, cause I stole food or something from them! They wanna do bad things but I don’t let ‘em! Sometimes.. They try to catch me cause they think I’m just a weak little kid but I show ‘em! And then I’m not hungry for a lil bit either!!”

Somehow, the news that she’s killing and eating people in self defense doesn’t seem to make Wick any less anxious, “w-well, that’s. not very nice of them at all, is it?” Oh they want to abort this conversation so badly. How can they leave?

“They say they’re good people cause I’m evil.” Patches is staring right at them with those glowing red eyes of hers, “Cause I’m a monster.. But you said I’m not evil.”

Goddamnit they did say that. Or something close enough to it. They choose their next words very, very carefully and slowly, “being evil is.. a choice. it’s something you choose with your actions, not something you inherently are.” They pause, “plenty of people who say they’re good and think they’re the purest person on earth do evil things.” And you Patches, have been choosing to do many evil things, even as a baby, apparently.

The clown seems confused by this, it looks like she’s thinking hard about things. After what feels like an eternity to Wick, she speaks, “You think I’m evil, don’t you?”

Yes, yes they do, but they shake their head in response, “i- don’t think.... i don’t think i know enough about your situation to judge whether or not you're evil.” They are growing increasingly anxious with the way she’s staring at them, “i think.. killing and eating people is wrong.. even if you are doing it in self defense, two wrongs don’t make a right. it’d be better to just.. you know. do something to get ‘em to let you go like bite them really good?”

Patches ears flatten defensively, “I’ve tried that!! They just get madder and try to hurt me worse!!!”

Of course she had, Wick thinks, she’d bit them pretty good when she was feeling threatened. She already had a concept of warning people to leave her alone. That last sentence did remind them of a question they’d wanted to know, and.. Maybe it would be a way to steer the conversation away from eating people, “hurt you? i’d heard a rumor you couldn’t feel pain.. which is kinda silly sounding to say out loud, it can’t be true, right?”

A rumor? Maybe this place wasn’t as far from “home” as she thought, if they knew things about her that she hadn’t told them. That did explain why the man the other night knew her given name, “That’s stupid. You’re stupid. Being hurt hurts. Who told you that?”

That was interesting news. Wick shrugs, thankful for their years of acting training to lean on as they improvise and try not to look too freaked, “some rando from the birdbox. guess they were full of it though. why would someone think you don’t feel pain?”

Patches steps back a bit and her long tail curls close as if she’s worried someone might try to grab it, “Cause... I’m a monster.. And when I get hurt it goes away... But it still hurts until it goes away.”

“you can.. heal yourself? that’s pretty cool.” Hm.. Maybe they should show her a certain movie, one they know she’s referenced in regards to her healing before.

“Cool..? You think that’s cool?” She sounds hopeful, like this is some of the first validation she’s received in her life. For all they know, maybe it actually is.

“yeah? i think all that magic stuff is pretty neat.” Oh. They said the M word. They are full of regret before she can even react.

At first, she doesn’t react, she just freezes up. Patches.exe has encountered a problem, would you like to end the program? When she does speak it’s quiet, barely above a whisper. Wick is afraid to ask for her to speak up because they don’t know if they want to know what she said. They don’t get a choice, “I’m. Not. Magic. I’m a monster. I’m a scary evil monster. I’m not magic.”

“hey- hey it’s- it’s okay. i’m probably wrong. it just- sounds like- something magical. it’s-” They’re at a loss for words. They don’t get it. Why is magic such a bad thing to her? Maybe they should just ask, “is.. why are you- why don’t you like magic?”

“It’s bad.” That’s it. That’s all the reply she gives them. It’s bad. Magic bad.

Somewhere in their terror, something clicks, “and you don’t.. want people to think you’re bad? or.. treat you any worse than they already do?”

The penny drops when Patches nods. She’s a product of her times. Magic is bad and scary and they need to burn the witch. She’s just as scared of the idea of magic as anyone else would have been from her time, and she’s magic herself.

“okay.. patches, i need you to listen to me.. magic- it’s. it’s just like monsters. it’s only bad if someone chooses to use it to do bad things. it’s not some inherently evil thing on its own.” When it doesn’t look like she believes them, they continue, only fumbling a little, “there is nothing evil about healing magic, for example. healing is in the name! it’s good, it’s healthy. it makes people better! i don’t think it’s even possible to do evil with healing magic”

They know it is possible because Patches uses her magic for evil things all the time. Or at least uses the knowledge that she can rely on it as an excuse to take normally life-threatening risks when it comes to ruining other people’s lives. None of that matters in this moment, talking to a kid scared of.. Apparently herself.

Said kid doesn’t look convinced, but Wick is opening new doors as they try to liken it to the monster conversation, “Then why does everyone say it’s bad? Why does it hurt more?”

What?

“hurt.. more?” Another nod from Patches. Wick is not an expert in magic, they didn’t even think magic was real in their world. Assuming Patches is from their world and didn’t hop over here one day on a whim, it would mean magic was real and secret and probably a lot easier to abuse that way.

“that.. sounds like.. someone really wanted to hurt you. maybe that someone was evil, or thought they were doing good by trying to hurt you. people.. don’t always like things they don’t understand. magic ‘n monsters both. it’s easier for them to call those things bad and be afraid of ‘em than to take the time to learn about them.”

While that doesn’t make Patches look any happier, some of the confusion and worry seems to fade, “Why aren’t you afraid?”

Because they’ve lived most of the past year in constant fear of murder clowns and baby murder clowns are a lot less scary, “i think.. if i’d met you a year ago, i’d probably be pretty freaked out, honestly, but i’ve met a lot of nice monsters recently, learned magic was real and not scary. it’s.. actually incredible. some of it really beautiful to watch.”

Wick can tell at a glance how full of doubt she still is, “why don’t you give it a chance? maybe you’ll be surprised.” They glance at their bandaged hand, “i have an idea.. why don’t i let someone use some healing magic on me? to show you that it’s not so scary and can be good.”

Bold of them to allow someone to use magic on them, she thinks, but better them than her. A short nod before she retreats into the safety of her fort. The red slit peeping out from the darkness is the only indication that she’s waiting for them to follow through.

With a small sigh, Wick pulls out their phone. Time to call in a friend.

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 51

Last Time: The Bus Came Back, Al really needs to learn Morse Code, and the Golems woke up. Onwards!

Oh snap, new opening. Soft music as Ed and Al stand together in Central, looking at the lit-up castle until Ed looks away to blue pictures of Roy’s Crew wait I just saw Hughes in there. Oooh no. That’s not a good sign. Ok it’s including everyone from Armstrong the Great to General Grumman so unless this show’s heading towards a Total Party Wipe (which is not as unlikely as I’d like) it must just be stylistic. Wait what that was a white Truth outline that looked a heck of a lot like Winry. Please tell me she’s ok. Aaaand now it’s all red and black as someone (Ed?) screams and other flashes of red souls oh it’s the Goths. Aw hell it’s the Goths! And Uncle as well looking annoyed until GAH it’s one of those freaking Golems. Ok back to calming blue pictures of the Good Guys, then Al’s Soul still sitting at the Gate of Truth with his empty armor behind him, and Truth laughing like the jerk he is. Winry! Wi- wait why are you standing in a white dress at the edge of a cliff? Young lady that’s far too close, step back right now. Also stop crying and/or point me in the direction of whoever made you cry. We get a title for this song (“Rain”) as townspeople and villagers look up at the storm clouds in concern, and Military soldiers run out alongside tanks whaaaaat is that? What is that there’s a hunched figure standing in flames, zoomed in to show glowing white eyes and very big teeth. Now it’s Bradley in a bloodied white shirt sitting in the rain acting all calm and collected, switch to complete opposite of Scar tossing aside his jacket ooooh are we gonna get Scar fighting Bradley in this arc? Yeah I know that the trailers always lie but there tends to be elements of truth like the arms that grabbed Al coming up in a later arc. Now it’s the Chimera Army (sadly not under the command of General Al), and the Armstrong Siblings standing alongside each other and Mrs. and Mr. Curtis! Good to see you guys again! Wait Roy why do you look so upset? Riza why are you crying in an alleyway with your dog? And now Ed and Al are standing on opposite sides of a tree damnit are they gonna get separated again? Ok finally the sun’s broken through NOPE NOPE DEAD PERSON ALERT THAT LOOKS LIKE MAMA ELRIC BUT IT PROBABLY ISN’T EITHER RUN OR PUNCH IT ED. Nevermind he was just dreaming. While being watched over by Winry. Kinda cute, but kinda creepy too. Episode 51 - “The Immortal Legion” Oh great, this episode is gonna focus on those creepy Golems. Just what I wanted to start the new year with, yay. So a bunch of pipes are disconnecting from the gasping artificial zombies who land kneeling on the floor, before standing GREAT they’re in that uncanny 3D modeling that Titan!Envy used. Officer laughs at the labcoat’s insistence that they needed more tests, pointing at the undying, obedient, invincible soldiers. [Officer]: “We have our Title Drop, at long last!” Now he’s ordering the Golems (“Papa” NO) to deal with the renegade ele- Uh What So… One of the Golems walked forward and just… tore out his throat with its teeth. And a bunch of other Golems have pounced on the screaming Officer. Who’s no longer screaming. Aaaand now they’ve stopped, and turned with bloody mouths to the labcoat. … … … How fucking stupid are these guys? I mean really. REALLY. How has Amestris lasted as a country this long if this is what its leadership and researchers are like? How could the labcoats have failed so spectacularly to create Zombies when the goal was to create Golems? What kind of shoddy “tests” were they running to not figure out that their supposedly obedient soldiers were mindless killing beasts? Was there no prototype? Did they literally build an army of these things just assuming that they would all work? You fail, my good sirs! You fail at Science! And you, Officer! You completely ignored the guy whose job it is to know things, who told you that the weapon wasn’t ready, and you just set it off? You were so blinded by your arrogance and desire for command over others that you unleashed this army of Zombies without any assurance that they wouldn’t kill you for standing in front of them? Uncle. I get that you’re a bad guy. I get that you view humanity as a lesser species, no better than fuel for yourself and your Goths. And frankly, after seeing this Kimblee level of incompetence, I can see your point. But you have to have seen this coming. You had to have known that your minions were this stupid, this incredible level of dumbfuckery that has me storming around my room, ranting at the utter failure of this Officer and researcher. Clearly this is the reason you made your Goths, because if this was the level of ability you led before you made more competent henchmen? It’s a miracle that the whole country hasn’t gone up in flames without even the slightest effort by the Conspiracy.

Ok. Ok, we need to move on. So while that whole mess is kicking off, Ed’s reached the Door beneath The Third Laboratory. Oh hey, Barry’s still there! Miss you, you were funny when you weren’t killing innocents or trying to flirt with Riza. Giant door, check. Now how to open it. Actually, do we want to open it? Is it connected to the Transmutation Circle, is opening it playing into Uncle’s hands? Ah well, Ed’s gonna try anyway, struggles for a bit pulling at the seam (maybe it’s a push door?) until Scar gets bored and prepares to HoD it oh hey it’s opening CLOSE IT CLOSE IT CLOSE IT ZOMBIES CLOSE IIIIIIIIITTTTTTT Oh hey Armstrong the Great. Still haven’t killed the second General? Yeah he’s more useful as a bullet shield right now, and he’s still a General so he can order the Central Forces to stand down. Only he’s not giving the order? Huh. I’m actually kinda impressed here, guy’s been stabbed multiple times and has a gun to his head but he still gives an order to seal all entrances to Central. Still a bad guy and Armstrong the Great’s absolutely going to kill him now, but still. Ooor instead of Armstrong the Great, it’ll be Sloth literally crushing him. Ouch. Oooh dear, seems Sloth’s been ordered to kill Armstrong the Great for interfering, and she doesn’t have a tank or a snowstorm this time. She’s still laughing though, thanking the Goth for opening up another General seat, and brandishes her blade. [Armstrong the Great]: “This sword was passed through the Armstrong Family for generations. Now I don’t have to sully it with his filthy blood!” Adventure Strings continue as Ed’s fighting the Zombie Horde, the Chimera’s are throwing punches and Scar’s breaking out the HoDs to kill… oh dear. Scar’s One Hit Kill isn’t killing. That’s not good. The Zombies groan and shuffle around them- [Zombie]: “Big Brother!” NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOU, WHOEVER WROTE THAT LINE YOU DO NOT TARNISH ONE OF THE SADDEST MOMENTS IN THIS SHOW WITH THESE MONSTERS SCREW. YOU.

Ed’s reacting in shock, realizing that they used human souls to make the Zombies, even somehow poor Nina’s. And for all the Zombies already, more and more come pouring through the door. Scar’s right, if these things escape outside to where civilians are just standing around wondering at all the Military soldiers running around, it’ll be a slaughter… Oh. Ok, I get it. Uncle deliberately set this up so the Officers (who are still IDIOTS) would set off a slaughter of the Central populace, probably to fuel the Transmutation Circle like Kimblee orchestrated the Drachman’s destruction up north. Back inside, Ed seals off the exit to keep the Zombies in ok sorry I have to say something, did the animation budget get cut for this episode to focus on the Zombies? Because for whatever reason Ed just seems off-model today, his face keeps looking rounder and younger. Anyways, the Chimeras are eager to let loose in a fight and transform, the group charges towards the Gate to plow through the horde and reach “that bearded bastard”. Outside Military forces are trying to close off roads and keep the Armory Ice Cream Truck from escaping, until a certain Briggs Officer arrives to express his displeasure. [Central Officer]: “A- a bear! A bear with a mohawk! Aaaa-” So Roy and his Crew are safely out of town, but now they’ll have some trouble getting back in. Although the Military are looking for an ice cream truck specifically. Almost makes me wish Ed was here to Transmute up a disguise for the vehicle. Almost mind you, things aren’t so desperate we need that just yet. Lion’s still at the Dome, wondering how things are going with the others. With nothing better to do he goes to talk to Al, ask what that annoying tapping noise is FINALLY thank you so Al didn’t know but Lion with his military experience was able to identify the dot dot dot dash dash dash dot dot dot and realize that Al needs to shut Pride up, NOW. He’s been broadcasting your loca- Uh oh. Kimblee’s here. And as much as I insult the guy, I think he’s probably strong enough to brush past an injured Lion and break Pride out- Or straight up kill Lion while knocking a hole in the Dome. Damnit. Pride is loose. Mid-ep pictures of Zombies (“Mannequin Soldiers”) doing the See-Speak-Hear No Evil poses, and Alphonse Elric looking pissed. Aw shit May’s getting chased by Zombies in the tunnels! Run May! Run Shao May! Screw Envy, leave him to get eaten by the monsters! She screams at Envy for tricking her while he yells that her source of Immortality is still further inside, then she takes a moment to lay a beautiful if ineffective beatdown on some Zombies before catching oh shit I was joking about Envy getting eaten nobody deserves- Uh oh. [Envy]: “I’m baaaack!” Soooo, Envy’s kind of… melded with the Zombie, who ate another Zombie and then melded with all of the other Zombies to make Titan!Envy, who shrunk down into standard Envy. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a Goth back in play. Crap. In the village near the Dome, Yoki’s panicking at the Military presence, trying to persuade Marcoh to stay quiet and not draw attention to themselves. But Marcoh’s upset at not doing anything. Also, what’s that smoke coming from the Dome? Pride’s sauntering out, Kimblee actually sounds a bit unnerved at the news that Pride ate another Goth. Pride’s justifying it as them coming from the same father, they’re just in a combined form again. Oh hey, Lion’s still alive! Kinda. Not looking or sounding too good, though. Al rushes forward damnit he just got grabbed by Pride’s shadows, he’s gonna get possessed again and Ed’ll have to fight him damnit. But Al transmutes the ground for a Big Boom, ok so dust to block out the shadows? Or not, Pride still has Al’s feet… aha! He only has Al’s feet! Al pulled a Lan Fan! Back to Battle Drum music as Armstrong the Great’s fighting Sloth, who’s smashing up the room with his chains. Armstrong the Great, honey, don’t waste your bullets on Sloth, it’s doing nothing. Maybe your sword? Damnit Military grunts, stop bothering Armstrong the Great by threatening to shoot her for treason. See, that’s what you get for threatening Armstrong the Great, she just dodges so you take the hit from Sloth. Thanks for the grenade, btw! So that’s not going to do much to Sloth (besides be funny as he “Huh?”s at the grenade right in his face, but maybe Armstrong the Great can use the smoke to- [Sloth]: “Hey, look! I caught you! And this time, I won’t mess up.” Well that aint good. Sloth’s got her trapped against a pillar and is squeezing her to death, Armstrong the Great’s actually in pain and-

YES [The Mighty Armstrong]: “HEELLLOOO, SISTER! AAAARRREE YOOOOOU ALLLRIGHT?! HAH HAH!” *sparkles and explosion because AWESOME* He’s back! The Mighty Armstrong is back, and after sending Sloth flying with a single punch is ready to fight alongside his snarky sibling! Armstrong the Great updates The Mighty Armstrong on the plot (that’s a Goth, bullets are useless, I want my tanks back). [The Mighty Armstrong]: “You don’t say? *sparkle* Fortunately dear sister, that is my specialty! Why don’t you let your brother have a crack at it! I’ll take this atrocity down! Come on, you monster!” [Sloth]: “Ugh. What a pain.” Hey! Hey hey hey don’t you skip away from the Armstrong Fight! Go back to Best Characters! Ugh, ok fine Al’s current situation of trying to drag a grievously wounded Lion away from the dome while his own legs are stumps is sufficiently dramatic enough I’ll accept the scene switch. This time. But yeah, Al and Lion are in a tough spot. Lion’s even telling Al to leave him behind, which Al is having none of. But really now, Al’s down a few limbs, when the dust clears they’ll be facing Kimblee and Pride together, and Lion’s coughing up blood. Now Al’s knee has blown out and he’s resorting to beating the crap out of it in frustration. [Lion]: “You brothers… are really something else… You’re still determined to help another person, even when you’re falling to pieces yourself.” Now Al’s talking about his promise, to never let anyone else die. So now the show’s going to either force Al to break his promise abandon Lion at the Chimera’s insistence, or he’ll keep trying until the dust fades and Pride walks up and kills Lion before repossessing Al’s armor anyway. This sucks- wait, what’s Lion have in his pocket?

HOLY LETO IT’S THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE! I completely forgot that Lion pocketed it ages ago after Ed’s injury. Has the dude been carrying around one of the setting’s most prized MacGuffin’s in his pocket this whole time? Dude. Also, is this going where I think it’s going?

So they’re discussing the dilemma: with their own Stone they might be able to fight against the other guy armed with one and the ‘kid’ powered by two, but if they use the Stone they’ll be using the souls used in making it. And if I remember, this was Kimblee’s first stone, the one made with Ishvalan Sacrifices. Lion talks about Ed’s conviction to not use Stones on their bodies. Instead, he says to “use it to save the entire world instead”. [Lion]: “You deserve it. Because even if they’ve been put into that Stone, you still recognize them as people. I know… those people… even though they’re trapped in Stone, they still want to fight to protect what matters to them. Let them fight. They deserve the chance!” I’m picturing the Ishvalans in the stone cheering. “Heck yeah let’s kick some ass! That jerk in the tacky suit used us to murder our own people, we want to tear him apart!” Al agrees. They’ll fight together. Thank you. For all my ranting at not using the Stone to heal Ed back then, I can appreciate this take. Using a Stone is Wrong, and it cannot be something that our Protagonists ever truly accept. But when faced with no other options, and using it specifically to help others, not themselves, it is acceptable that Al uses the Stone to fight back. Outside the cloud Kimblee asks if he should blow it away, but Pride’s overconfident and says they’re trapped without Al’s legs- BOOM! Flash of red, Kimblee loses his hat in the windblast, and Al strides out on newly-Transmuted legs. Kimblee smiles. New Outro! We’ve got… I can’t tell if it’s Beardless or Al, going by the stonework I’m going to assume Beardless. Still Beardless, hair blowing in the wind...still Beardless...still Beardless...what is the whole Outro just Beardless never mind it just switched to Mama Elric’s grave, then a crowd of Xerxes folk hey it’s that picture Keaton used to show Xerxians have no black outline to their hair. Then either Beard or Uncle walking through the desert in a white cloak, and the Elric Household complete with the swing that Beard nearly broke his back setting up. Whoop speaking of we have a grumpy Beard surrounded by white light and shattering stone, then Homunculus sulking in his flask. Also, A+ on putting the only credit this screen (Mixing Engineer Adrian Cook) right in front of the one-eyed circle monster.

Ooh, but now we’ve got an orbital view of the planet, with a giant circular shock wave coming off of it. Implying the Nationwide TC is activated? Now Ed looking serious in his red coat, and poor skinny Al’s soul smiling in front of the Gate. Now it’s his armor form standing in front of a sunset (Ending Theme “Ray of Light”), and a final shot of the road leading to the Rockbell home.

[lucarioisinthevoid]

Mike you look so cute! you know what this means, Foxy its story time with mike and phoney!!

(5/5) (And a read more, because this ended up being the length of half a one-shot, I’m so sorry.) “I ALREADY TOLD YOU-“ But before Mike could finish, Foxy had rushed up, almost jumping him in excitement, his tail wagging. “Story time?! Aye, we can do that! Right Mike? Right?” “I-“ Gritting his teeth Mike stared at the golden-eyed machine that seemed utterly hopeful. “You fucking know, I’m not just-“ Shortly he looked up, spotting Phone Guy watching on, radiating a certain form of bemusement that infuriated Mike every bit. This asshole KNEW he couldn’t refuse the dumb machine and he was relishing in it! Fucking- Fine.

But Mike would take him with him into this stupid hell. “… you know what, Foxy, let’s do this. Though if I have to play the princess, you and Simon have to be my royal parents.” “Sure can do!” The Fox rose up his hook, dangerously close to Mike’s eye. Phone Guy on the other hand looked MORTIFIED. “I, uh-“ Mike grinned. “What? You don’t want to? You don’t want to even pretend to marry Foxy? Do you hate him THAT much?!” The Fox actually turned now too, making himself smaller, looking concerned. “I- won’t try to make you-“ A bit overwhelmed the poor guy shook his head. “No, no, that- uh-“ Old Sport joined in. “We all know you like Foxy, so you’re going to take the role!” “Uh-“ The Orange Guy grinned wide. “Alrighty Foxy, what’s the story?!” Excited the animatronic wiggled. “Okay, o-“ “NOT the fucking sun princess. We’re NOT doing that again.” Mike called out. “That’s the other demand. We gotta put up something new.” “Aye, I wanted to do that anyways! If Phone Guy is my wife, and Mike our princess son, theeeeeeeeeeen…” “You gotta make space for ALL of us though!” Old Sport instantly called out. “I’m sure everyone here wants to take part!” “Arr…” The Pirate Fox looked around, trying to come up with something good- Then his eyes fell onto Ethan sitting in the back, his eyes wandering over the scene, seemingly lost in thought. “AHA!” Roaring in success, Foxy jumped onto the nearest table. “Ay, today we have a truly THRILLING tale! It’s a tale about MURDER!” Appropriately, Dave, Old Sport and Jerry gasped. The other animatronics who had stepped closer by now as well, joined in, mostly out of peer pressure though. They had no idea what was going on. “You!” Foxy gestured at Ethan, who seemed a little bit worried. “… yes?” “You must investigate a MURDER!” There wasn’t any response from Ethan, more like the strained silence of a man in a situation that was bad, but not quite bad enough to allow for any sort of lament. There is no release. Just endless torment. Foxy didn’t seem to notice the agony radiating from the man, as he looked about, scratching his snout. “But who died… who died… oh. You.” He pointed at the Marionette, who seemed for a moment offended, then scoffed. “I didn’t want to take part in this anyways.” “Yes, a terrible murder, of a guest from far, far away! A powerful political figure- but what for? Money? For war? What could have happened? Who could have done it?! Detective, you may step closer, to the mourning couple!" Before Phone Guy knew what was happening, Foxy jumped down beside him, dragging him close and started to dramatically sob. Ethan, who had been forced to step up by the sheer expectation of all the spirits surrounding him, coughed uncomfortable. But Chica stepped up, smiling brightly. "I want to be your help! I'm sure we will make a GREAT team! We will solve this mystery!" For a moment Ethan seemed taken aback, then his expression shifted into quiet sadness, before he shook his head and gathered himself. "That... would be good." Foxy wailed out. "MR. DETECTIVE! It is HORRIBLE! How could this have happened?!" "... the most terrible things can happen when people meet, Mr-" "Lord Fuchsia." "... Lord Fuchsia." Chica giggled excited, before trying to act out more serious. "Lord Fuchsia, that is why people like us exist! To right the wrongs. We may cannot help poor-" "Lord Marion-nâte." No, she couldn't say it, she broke out into another slew of laughter. The Puppet who had laid down on the ground in his best "murdered" pose groaned. Mike didn't manage to grasp the situation. "What the fuck is going on." Instantly Foxy began wailing again. "MIKE! OUR DEAREST DAUGHTER. LEAVE THIS ROOM! AVERT YOUR EYES!" "... in that order?" Looking at the body, then at Ethan he rose an eyebrow. Neither of them really knew what to do now, but due to a nudge from the quietly panicking Foxy, Simon coughed and spoke up. "Mr. Detective, we, uh- we have gathered everyone who was in the house during that time. Including uh- the princess. Yeah." Instantly Ethan spoke up. "The princess? Not your daughter?" "Uh-" A bit taken aback Simon stumbled. "I'm-" Instantly Foxy picked up. "We... remarried. It's a bit of a tense situation, please be discrete about this." Shortly Ethan nodded. "Of course. Would you mind introducing me to the rest of the people attending?" Knowing this was their cue, the others gathered closer, animatronics and people alike. Foxy swiftly turned. "There is Freddy, the most talented cook in all the lands, hired here recently. Bonnie is a capable musician and was providing our gathering with light entertainment, before the situation transpired... there is Jeremy, he's- our most loyal servant, he has been with us ever since I can remember. And that is-" Finally he truly started stumbling, looking at Nemo. Dramatically the boy flipped his hair back, the empty eye socket visible for a second. "How DARE you? Standing here so casually, shedding your crocodile tears- when it was MY FATHER who was MURDERED!" The Marionette made another noise, but before he could object, Nemo continued. "You're not doing anything! YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT FINDING THE MURDERER! This is all a pathetic attempt at distracting everyone here- when it clearly was YOU who was at fault! One way or another- you might not have murdered him, but you helped planning it! And I will prove it!" Even more dramatically he turned around and rushed away, leaving the scene. Shaken up, Lord Fuchsia looked after him, before shuddering and turning to the last two. "And... these two... they're-" Dave interjected. "Lord Eggplânt and Lord Orânge. We have been called here because we wanted to make a deal with Lord Marion-nâte. Now, of course, that seems to be done with. Must we stay?" Chica instantly moved forward, pointing at them. "Yes. Nobody will leave until the culprit was found! It could be YOU." With a devastating glare, the Purple Guy froze the animatronic in place. "That is defamation and we will NOT be treated like this. Watch your language young lady, or you will regret it..." "Don't talk to her like this." Instantly Ethan stepped in front of her, real rage breaking out of his expression, boiling under the surface. "We aren't accusing anyone, but everyone is a suspect until we can prove otherwise. Please sit down." Everyone turned silent. Another moment passed. Ethan looked around, then took a breath. "Now that you all know me-" "Fuck this shit, I'm out. Going to..." Mike wrecked his brain. "... play with one of my 100 ponies I guess." "You seem not concerned over the corpse in this room at all!" The detective called out. Foxy spoke up. "No! He is just- uh- he's sensible. He doesn't know how to emote!" Chica laughed. "Oh certainly. Most murderers don't know how to emote actually!" Lord Fuchsia gasped and grabbed Simon's arm. "HAVE YOU HEARD THAT!?" "Uh- yeah, that's uh- terrible. Mike wouldn't ever kill someone!" At least the second part had some level of conviction. "You're wrong in your suspicion!" Ethan rubbed his temples. "Okay. Now that one of the suspects is out of the room, I think we can forget a group interrogation- everyone may leave for now, while I check on the body and what we can deduct from it. Nobody touched him, right?" "No. Nobody." Jeremy nodded, with a grave expression. "Good. Nobody is allowed to leave the premises until the murder is found." Everyone began turning away, leaving, all telling Foxy first what they were going to do, out of character. Freddy first. "I am going into the kitchen. I am scared that someone is trying to frame me, seeing as most weapons are in there. I want to check and get rid of it if it's there." Then Bonnie. "I am high-strung and tense, I guess." He rolled his eyes a bit. "I'm going to play a little on my guitar, because I feel like that will be the least suspicious thing to do. I know more than I let on!" Dave and Old Sport grinned, knowing they were making shit up and nobody would stop them. "We leave, but into a SECRET PATHWAY! We will spy on the detective and what he's finding out!" Phone Guy shook his head. "I, uh- I begin wandering the hallways, uneasy." Foxy wagged his tail, very pleased with how it was going. Then Chica spoke up. "I will follow the people around and make sure they won't leave this place! I'll be back in a bit, detective!" "Hey, you shouldn't-" But before Ethan could tell her off, she was already away from the scene, walking around dramatically as though she was trying to look for someone. Then Jerry stepped up, smiling excited. "I will leave too, I get myself a knife and I kill Chica." Suddenly it was completely silent. "Aye- uh." Foxy opened his eyepatch. "... you wanna... really? You?" "Yes! Nobody will suspect me! I'm killing in the name of my Lord, who has almost been betrayed by the business deal between the evil Dave and Old Sport and Marion! And now I plan to get rid of someone else and find the right person to frame! Emotions will cloud the detective's judgement if his helper is dead!" Marion had sat up. Foxy nervously scratched his snout. "... okay, I guess that makes sense-" Cowering down a bit, Jerry began sneaking towards Chica, who dutifully showed him her back. She still seemed in a good mood. "I will haunt you though! I WILL become a ghost!" "That's okay!" Jeremy answered, holding his hand as though there was a knife in there. "But you will never see the light of day again. I will take the knife and ram it into the back of your head, I will twist it, again and again and-" Suddenly he was hit by something from the side, black and white, pinning him down, claws tightly wrapped around his shoulders as he was shaken so hard, everything flickered. 'STOP THAT! STOP THAT STOP THAT STOP THAT-' The voice echoed loudly through everyone's head, causing everyone a moment of pain, before Jeremy yelped. "I'M- I STOPPED. IT'S OKAY." When everything stopped moving, the young guard looked up at the distraught and upset looking puppet, feeling equally as scared. "... what- what happened? The Marionette just looked down at him, then clawed at his own face, trying to hide it. He couldn't say anything. This was just so terrible. So, so terrible. It clicked with Jeremy and he gently grabbed the machine, hugging him, feeling quite awful. "... it's okay. I'm sorry. I- I should have thought about this better- I'm-" Foxy stepped closer too, ears flat on his head. "Aye, I'm sorry... shouldn't have... did we trigger some bad memories?" The snake-like machine hissed. "No. No it's fine. I'm fine." Jeremy shook his head. "O-obviously not! You can't just- I'm-" "It's FINE." With that the Marionette floated upwards, dragging Jeremy along. Everyone else was left behind, looking after them. Finally Mike sighed and took off the dress, revealing the guard uniform below it. "... I guess the fucking play is over for now, huh?" The group dispersed. Nobody really wanted to continue the play. Maybe next time.

[inactiive-shit]

Life As A Sanders

Chapter 12: Birds In Flight

((Previous))

LAAS Masterlist

Read on AO3

Warnings: None

Pairings: familial DLAMP, romantic Sleepxiety, primarily brother Analogical

Summary: It’s time for Virgil and Logan to find their own ways.

The Grand Finale. It’s Over, Y’all.

Words: 3,936

Age: 19, 23, & 13

Note: I am so sorry for the delay! The current state of the world just absolutely crushed my ability and will to write, so this is super fucking late. I hope 

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

Virgil sat on his bed, staring at the walls he’d been decorating since he was ten years old and couldn’t draw nearly as well as he thought he could. He didn’t know how he was supposed to be able to sleep anywhere else. In a room where he didn’t know the location and cause of every chip in the paint, every dent in the wall, and every door that was made specifically for them, how would Virgil live?

In a room where he didn’t have his brother next door, just a knock away, how was Virgil supposed to exist?

He shoved an additional sketchbook into the ‘Staying’ pile and tried not to think about it.

Trying not to think about it. That had become an unnervingly common coping mechanism lately. He tried not to think about that, too.

He was not doing a very good job of either.

Currently, it is taking his whole concentration simply to focus enough into choosing what stays and what goes. Virgil, suddenly, had become aware that he also wanted to stay and while that could be the anxiety talking (or the insomnia, he hasn’t slept in days) it could also be that he genuinely rushed into this and didn’t really think about what he wanted, just what Logan was going to do regardless.

Did Virgil want college or was he chasing his brother? Did it matter?

This time it’s a book he threw into the ‘Staying’ pile. He glared at the expanding menagerie of his belongings and his life and then added a random paint brush to it. He didn’t know where it came from, where the rest of its set was. It was raggedy and broken and lost and should probably go in the trash, much like Virgil himself.

Well, he’s not raggedy, but he was a little broken and a lot lost and he didn’t just go in the trash, Virgil was the trash. He’s like the star of the whole damn show.

Virgil stopped that line of thinking by chucking an entire box of sharpies onto his bed and then watching in resignation as it bounced onto the floor and spilled its guts everywhere.

He crouched down on the floor and began to painstakingly recollect all the markers. His hands were shaking, annoying, and his heart was racing, rude, where was it even trying to go?, and he couldn’t seem to not think about the things he’d been trying to not think about for days. Why was his entire body turning against him like some sort of crappy hypnosis?

What if this was a mistake? What if he shouldn’t leave? What if something bad happened to Dad while he was gone? What if something bad happened to Logan if he didn’t go? Someone could die and-

Of course, it was ridiculous to think that he was the only thing standing between his family and utter ruin. Virgil knew that. But the thoughts in his head were like a vortex that had had enough of being contained. They pulled him into the spiral even though he knew it wasn’t rational, and Virgil, for the life of him, couldn’t seem to find a way to pull himself back out.

“V?” Dee asked, slipping into his room. He was holding what looked like a kite. Virgil didn’t know. He didn’t think he’d ever flown a kite. Nothing made any sense. Was he even breathing right?

“Yeah, kid?”

“Do you wanna come play? Ro said they’d come outside with us.”

“Uh,” Virgil said, and coughed.

“Are you sick? Dad won’t let you go outside if you’re sick.” Dee looked up at Virgil, worried, and stepped farther into the room. He put his hand—still so little and fragile—on Virgil’s forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”

“I’m not sick,” Virgil said. “I just feel kind of funky.”

“Oh,” Dee said. He paused. “Do you not want to come outside?”

“Maybe, uh, not-not today. Sorry.” Dee shrugged and took a small step back, still staring at Virgil. He turned to go, but hesitated.

“Is it your anxiety?” he asked quietly. Then, all in a rush, “You told me it can make you feel really bad and Dad said sometimes it helps to be around people. So that you’re not stuck.”

“I don’t know…” he started, but he felt like a huge piece of shit for turning Dee down already, and it could help, even if he was pretty sure it wouldn’t.

“You can come back inside if you want.” Dee straightened his back when Virgil didn’t respond right away. “We’re going outside. Come on.” He walked across the room and grabbed Virgil’s hand, dragging him along. The scattered box of sharpies lay on his floor, forgotten.

“Did you forcibly remove him from his room?” Ro asked, squinting at Virgil. Virgil was also squinting, trying to not cry from how bright the sun was compared to the lamps in his room.

“No,” Dee said, passing the kite to Ro. He didn’t say anything else, and Ro snorted.

“Whatever you say, little Prince,” they said and began to unwind the string of the kite.

Virgil’s hair, long as it was, flapped around his face in the wind and whipped into his eyes. He wrestled it back into a low ponytail to keep it out of the way, and then, when neither Ro nor Dee seemed to need his help immediately, he laid down in the grass and stared up at the sky, the warmth of the sun sinking into his skin. He hadn’t felt quite so comfortable in weeks.

~~~~~

Virgil woke up on the couch in the living room. Logan was sitting at the opposite end reading a book and twirling a coin over his fingers. He glanced up when Virgil shifted and blinked when he saw Virgil’s eyes were open.

“Finally awake?”

“Hhhuhg,” Virgil groaned, rolling to press his face into the pillow and not have to face the world.

“It’s two a.m.,” Logan informed him. “You slept from one o’clock this afternoon until now, and Remy texted you so much I had to put your phone on silent and text them to stop because you were sleeping. Dad made pasta for dinner but didn’t want to wake you up because none of us knew the last time you actually slept. There is a bowl in the microwave for you. Oh, and Dee said you were ‘anxiety-ing’ and needed to be around people.”

“Hhhuhg,” Virgil repeated. “Eh fiihhhn.”

“I am afraid I do not speak Neanderthal,” Logan said. “You will have to translate for me.”

“I am tired,” Virgil enunciated slowly, lifting his head off the pillow, “I am fine, I want sleep.”

“Well, seeing as that’s unlikely, why don’t we talk instead. Here, allow me to get you some food.” Logan placed the coin in his book and set it carefully on the couch cushion and then walked into the kitchen. The sound of the microwave working met Virgil’s ears, and then Logan returned with a bowl and a fork. “Eat,” he said. Virgil took the bowl and sat up.

“You have to put the food in your mouth to eat it,” Logan said, picking his book back up. But instead of opening it, he put it on the table and pulled his legs onto the couch and faced Virgil.

“What?” Virgil muttered, eyes drooping shut. Logan cleared his throat and Virgil sighed, forcing  himself to look up.

“You are experiencing anxiety heightened from its usual state?” he asked. Virgil shrugged. “Virgil, please answer the question. It is important to me and also the rest of our family that we know when you are not doing well and can do everything possible to help you.”

“Yeah, there’s more anxiety,” Virgil admitted. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m fine.”

It was a half-truth, and they both knew it. Virgil didn’t know what he was doing, but he definitely wasn’t handling it. He was only struggling. But he didn’t know what to do about that.

“Do you know what’s causing it?” Logan asked.

Virgil knew if he outright lied to Logan, he’d know immediately. He also knew that he couldn’t bring up the real cause of his anxiety because Logan might feel responsible or tell Dad or change his plans on account of Virgil being an over-thinking and under-thinking dumbass at the same time.

“How are you and Nate doing?” he asked, deciding that totally changing the subject was the only logical course of action.

“We’re doing very good. You’re avoiding my question.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to think about it, Logan,” Virgil snapped. “Did you ever think of that?”

“Mhm,” Logan said. “Because not thinking about something has never backfired and made a situation worse before.”

“You can be a real asshole, you know that?” Virgil said. He glared at Logan, but very quickly lost the energy to stay mad and rested his elbows on his knees, bowing his head. His hair, slowly escaping from it’s prison, tickled his face and neck.

“Sometimes brutal honesty is a necessary evil. You know that as well as I do. You should not let whatever is bothering you fester like an infection that went untreated. Tell me what is wrong so that we can work on fixing it.”

“I-” Virgil started, angry, and then he hesitated. “I don’t-I don’t know.”

“You do not know what is causing you distress?” Logan asked, gentler now.

“No,” Virgil breathed. Because he knew very well where the problem lay.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what I-what I, what I, uh, want. I don’t know what I as me wants to do. Not I as us, not I as our family. I as me, just as me. I don’t know, L. I don’t know what to do.” There were tears in Virgil’s eyes and he was so tired he couldn’t even be bothered to care that he was about to start crying.

“V,” Logan said softly, and he put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder blade. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know.”

“Yeah, but-but we’re going to leave for, for the, uh-”

“College.”

“-that in a week. College is starting, and we paid to get in and we’re both going, but what if something bad happens to them,” Virgil jerked his head toward the bedrooms, “while we’re gone? What if I don’t go and something happens to you? What if-what if I do go and end up thousands of dollars in debt and hate every second of it and regret the next four years of my life? What then, Logan? What do I do then? I don’t know what to do. I don’t like school, but this made sense but now I don’t-I don’t-”

“Take a deep breath,” Logan instructed, demonstrating himself. He led Virgil through all his breathing exercises and naming things he could see, hear, feel, smell, and taste. By the end, though still shaking, Virgil felt marginally better.

“Sorry,” he said.

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Logan said immediately. “This is big and it is important to think through everything before you make a decision.” He leaned back on the couch, observing Virgil from a slight distance. “You do not have to go to college.”

“But-”

“No ifs, ands, or buts about it,” he said. “You do not have to go to college. If you do not want to, you do not have to. Even if you are only unsure about if you want to, you do not have to. You can, if you like, go for a week and if you end up hating it, leave. There is nothing binding you to it, Virgil. And if, in a few years, or maybe in ten or twenty, you decide you want to try college, you can. This is not an irreversible decision.” He came closer again, leaning his side into Virgil’s. “You do not need to be worried about me. I will be fine. You do not need to worry about Dad, either. He has fended for himself for decades before we butted in with our two cents. Ro has been mostly taking care of themself for years and is about to get an apartment of their own. Dee still has Dad looking out for him. Everyone is taken care of, Virgil. You do not need to worry about if they will be okay if you leave, or if they will approve of your decision. They love you. They will keep loving you. You need to make this decision for yourself. Not for us.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Virgil said, voice small. “I don’t know if I can exist without you, or my-my shitty art on the walls, and Dee bursting into my room whenever he wants, and Ro being so fucking obnoxious all the time with their singing, and Dad trying to sell us on syrup being a drink. I don’t know how to, how to-stop being part of, of-” Virgil waved a hand, aggravated.

“A family?” Logan suggested.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, “that.”

“So you want to go off by yourself?” he asked.

“What?! No, when did I-?” But Virgil stopped himself because somehow, now that he was thinking about it, he realized it was true. He wanted to go out and see things. He wanted to travel. He wanted to know what the world was. And he wanted to know for himself.

“The good news is,” Logan said, “you don’t have to learn to not be part of a family. You will never stop being part of this family, no matter what you do. You will never have to learn to function without us entirely. We are all a phone call away at most.” He smiled at Virgil. “The other good news is, there is no reason you cannot go off as just you, by yourself, and see what the world has to offer. There is nothing stopping you.”

“Money,” Virgil said.

“You have been saving all your holiday and birthday money for years. And Dad said that if any of us decided not to go to college, he’d give us half of our college fund and put the rest toward a vacation.”

“Transportation.”

“Ro just got a new car because they didn’t like the one they had. I am sure they would not mind allowing you to have it.”

“I don’t know how anything in the world works.”

“Then go out and learn it,” Logan said, like it was really just that easy. “Most people, I have found, do not know what they are doing, Virgil. Dad doesn’t. Ro certainly doesn’t. None of our friends do, and you saw how often our teachers would make up lesson plans as they were teaching. I think a part of being human is not knowing what is going on.”

“What about you?”

“I have a short term plan.” Logan shrugged. “I want to be a chemical engineer, so I will go to college for my degree. But I will have to figure out where my classes are, what kinds of teachers I have, what to do with myself when I am bored without my siblings around to annoy me, how to live with a roommate I have never met before, how to remember to do my laundry and take showers without constantly being reminded, how to keep in contact with Nate without getting to see him in person for weeks at a time. It is a learning curve. You are not the only one learning.”

“What if Remy and I can’t do that whole long distance thing?” he said, but it was a weak rebuttal. Virgil was searching for excuses, and Logan knew it. Even if the thought of leaving Remy behind hurt more than he would like to admit. Unlike the rest of his family, Virgil couldn’t just hope Remy would wait for him to come back.

“You will figure it out.” Logan paused. “Remy is not going to college, either. It is entirely possible they may desire to join you.”

“That’s insane,” Virgil said. “Who would just up and do something like that?”

“You would,” Logan said. “And you will not know for sure what they will say unless you ask them.”

“Huh,” Virgil said. He hesitated. “Are you sure? That this won’t come back to bite me in the ass?”

“I have no idea,” Logan said. “You may regret it. But this is what you want to do now, and if ever you change your mind, you can come back home. You can try something else. You have an entire life ahead of you to try things. I would not worry too much about it.”

“Why do you know so much?” Virgil groused, but it wasn’t a real complaint. He felt relieved and relaxed and kind of stupid now that everything had been so clearly laid out for him.

“You’re just jealous,” Logan said, and he grinned brightly at Virgil before yawning.

“Alright, you need to go to bed. When’s the last time you stayed up until three in the morning?” Virgil asked, grabbing Logan’s elbow to pull them both up.

“Didn’t want you to be out here by yourself,” Logan mumbled. He rubbed his eyes and almost knocked his glasses onto the floor.

“The speed you fall asleep is amazing,” Vigil said, more to himself than to Logan, as he guided him up the stairs and into his own room. Logan was completely out before his head hit the pillow.

~~~~~

One Week Later

Virgil threw his last bag into the trunk and slammed it shut. Remy leaned against the side of the car, watching the sky. They turned to Virgil and grinned.

“Excited?”

“Something like that,” Virgil said, leaning in and kissing Remy quickly. “Just gotta say goodbye.”

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” they said. “But I’ll let you handle that on your own.” They slid into the passenger seat and pulled out their phone. Virgil took a deep breath and walked up the driveway.

“Are you sure you have all of your things?” Logan asked, hands fluttering through the air like nervous hummingbirds. Virgil nodded.

“Do you?”

“Yes, though I fear that Dee or Dad may start hiding them in the house to prevent me from leaving.”

“They’re driving you down,” Virgil said. “I think you should probably be more worried about them bringing some of it back here so that you have to come back to get it.”

“Oh god, don’t say that. You’ll speak it into existence.” Logan groaned, collapsing against Virgil. He snorted and shoved Logan away, heading into the house. Logan followed him.

They found Dad, Roman, and Dee in the kitchen, making something. Virgil and Logan had not been allowed in the kitchen for the last few days. It made Virgil nostalgic and they hadn’t even left yet.

They’d been preparing for this for a week. After Virgil’s late night realization about what he wanted to do, he had told everyone else. Plans had changed, and nobody was mad, and now Logan and Virgil would be leaving the house at the same time but with different destinations.

Logan was bound for a college in the next state over whereas Virgil and Remy were going to begin their cross-country roadtrip heading West, toward California. They had money and food and not a clue what they were doing.

Virgil had almost never been so excited in his life.

Dad squealed when he saw them and rushed over, grabbing them up in a giant hug. He’d been giving even more hugs lately, as though they were going to leave forever. Virgil couldn’t particularly bring himself to care.

“My boys!” he cried. “Leaving! We better hurry and get everything packed up!” They quickly gathered up all of the food they had baked and then, with what looked like enough pastries to feed an army, the three marched out the door. Virgil shared an exasperated look with Logan as they followed.

Virgil and Logan watched as their Dad and brothers split all the food in half between the two cars and carefully stacked it in the backseats.

“They act like we’re never coming back,” Virgil said.

“We are the first to leave home.” Logan shrugged. “And Dad has more love than he knows what to do with. They’ll miss us.”

“I think they can handle it,” Virgil said.

Dad was teary-eyed and sniffling when he came back over to them.

“Everything’s all packed up,” he said. “So I guess we’re ready to go our separate ways. I’m quite fondue you two, so you better make time to visit, alright?” Virgil laughed and they both nodded.

“I’ll come back so often you’ll get tired of seeing me,” Virgil promised. “And we’ll facetime.”

“You better. And no getting into truffle while you’re off adventuring.” He hugged Virgil so tightly he couldn’t breathe and after a long, long time, pulled back. “Be safe, kiddo.”

“I will,” Virgil said. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Virge.”

Dad moved back to let Ro and Dee tackle him in a hug. Virgil laughed, squeezing them both.

“You have to get me rocks from everywhere you go,” Dee told him.

“And Dad and I want pictures of everything,” Roman said.

“Can do.” Roman reached over and ruffled his hair. Virgil swatted his hand away, glaring.

“Calm down, Panic! at the Disco. I won’t get to do it again for forever, I gotta make up for it now.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Love you guys.” They echoed the sentiment and, if Virgil didn’t know better, he’d say there were tears in Ro’s eyes.

“Well, we better get going. Don’t want to be late or anything.” Roman rolled his eyes and walked back to the car. Virgil looked at Logan.

“This is totally weird,” they said together. They both smiled.

“If you need anything, call me. I’ll be there in a day, tops,” Virgil said.

“Likewise. And should you happen to find yourself bored and in want of company, my dorm is always open.”

“Love you, L.”

“Love you, V.”

Virgil hugged Logan, long and hard. There were tears in Logan’s eyes when they pulled away.

“Keep that up and you’ll be just as bad as Dad,” Virgil teased. Logan snorted and swiped a hand over his eyes.

“No driving while you’re sleep deprived.”

“No promises,” Virgil said. Logan shook his head. “Oh, and I need you to do something for me.” Virgil dug a cadbury egg out of his pocket and handed it to Logan. “When it’s time for Dad to head back home, give this to him and tell him that he can’t cadbury his head in the sand, we’re coming back.”

“You are hopeless.”

“Nah, I’m a genius.”

“Perhaps you are. You better have some interesting facts to tell me when you come back.”

“Obviously,” Virgil said. And then he went to his car and got in. He watched in the mirror until Dad’s car was out of sight and then turned his key in the ignition.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Babes, do you even have to ask?” Remy said, pulling down their sunglasses. “I’ve always wanted to go on an adventure.”

“Adventure,” Virgil said. “I like that. We’re adventurers, braving the West.”

“Let’s do this. I have all the sunglasses I need and your Dad loaded us up with enough food to last us a year. We’re set.”

“Let’s do it,” Virgil muttered, and when he pulled out of the driveway, he had no idea where they were going. But he was excited to see what they would encounter along the way.

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

Taglist: @supersoftsupersleep @trashcanego

[foxtophat]

here’s chapter 4!!! it’s been about a week and a half, two weeks since John Seed reappeared, and now nick is ready to take his vengence!  by... having john do basic tasks to repair the homestead.  hey, this isn’t eden’s gate -- what do you expect, skin flaying and long-winded religious diatribes?  (weird, that’s exactly what john expects, all the time, from everyone!)

i really love this story and am so thrilled that other people seem to enjoy it too!!! it’s fun to write, and since i know it’s just full on self-indulgent bullshit, i don’t feel guilty for not being ~~realistic~~ about the whole thing.  fuck it! nick is a pacifist now!!!

i’ve included today’s chapter under the cut so you don’t have to leave tumblr if you don’t want to.  if you’re enjoying this story, please consider reblogging so your friends can also enjoy my hellscape! or, you know, do what makes you happy, it’s not like i can force you to ruin your aesthetics blog on my behalf. stay frosty my dudes, i’ll see you in 2 weeks!

Well, John doesn't die. Despite that being the only good thing the man could possibly do, he manages to hang on through the first night, looking better before the week is out. It's a mixed blessing. On the one hand, Nick no longer feels like he's serving a skeleton its last meal; on the other, it means that John is more than likely here to stay. Every time Nick goes to give him food, he finds the room just a little bit more lived in, the tarp turning into a makeshift bed as John struggles to settle in. Just yesterday, Nick had noticed a short series of tally lines scratched in the wall, marking each day of his sentence as though he were confined to solitary.

Nick should probably be happy with how smoothly things are going. He should probably be glad that John is keeping quiet and politely recuperating without so much as a snide remark. It's what he wanted, after all — for John to wave a white flag and agree to an unconditional surrender. And yet Nick can't help but feel short-changed, as if John owes him at least one opportunity to punch him in the face for being an asshole. It used to be something Nick dreamed about doing; he'd fantasized about beating him to a bloody pulp even as John had ripped his skin from his chest. Now, he's not willing to deal with the guilt that would undoubtedly follow.

Nick wishes he could go back to his "fight everyone" thirties. Being a mature adult sucks.

It's bright and early one morning when Nick decides it's past time to do something about the ceiling, which is warped and sagging beneath the nursery. Nick suspects it's a cracked joist, but considering his lack of carpentry skills, he doubts he can do anything to repair it. Right now, all he can do is try to support the weight of the second floor with something other than a wish and a prayer. Thankfully, he saved some of the posts when he dismantled the back porch — now if only Kim weren't going to be busy all day with Carmina, they could actually get some work done.

Except, maybe not!

John has been looking a lot better these past two days, since all he's been doing is resting and regaining his strength. Nick's heard him rummaging around at night, and he's been making himself something of a nest out of the crap left with him. Nick's even heard him talking, although it's anyone's guess who he thinks is listening. Considering how quiet and withdrawn he is when Nick brings him his meals, he doesn't seem interested in what real people have to say.

Honestly, if Nick hadn't been an integral part of John's survival for the past week, he'd think the whole thing was some kind of ploy. Nick's not sure what John would be planning with this act for sympathy, but he isn't going to make the same mistake he did all those years ago and write him off as some rich, coked-out jackass with no thoughts to his name. He's not going to let John sit around and finalize whatever evil machinations he's got brewing in his mind. He's gonna work that sad-sack until the only thing John's thinking about is collapsing from exhaustion.

Nick doesn't reveal his plans until after breakfast. He doesn't want to ruin his favorite meal of the day, not when he can rest aimlessly beside his family around the table, eating ham and eggs while Kim brews coffee. It's the closest they'll ever get to the way life used to be, and Nick can pretend that everything is back to normal as long as he has a cup of coffee in hand. Hell, it's not like watching his eight-year-old daughter methodically clean the family rifle during breakfast is all that weird for Hope County, with or without the apocalypse.

It's probably a good thing that Carmina is distracted. If she realized today was the day John would be seeing sunlight, she'd refuse to go anywhere until her curiosity was satisfied. They've told her as little as they can get away with, given that they're keeping a man prisoner across the hall from them. Mostly that he's a very sick stranger who could make little girls very sick too. She'd bought it for the most part, but Nick's afraid that she won't be able to contain her curiosity for much longer.

"Think I'm gonna get some stuff done while you're gone," he tells Kim, glancing significantly towards the stairs while Carmina isn't looking. "We need to deal with the second floor sooner rather than later."

"Are you sure?" she asks, raising her eyebrows meaningfully back at him. "Is this something you can do on your own?"

"Better to not put it off anymore," Nick replies. "It'll be easier if I have the place to myself, anyway. Less, uh, confusion."

That said, he puts the chore off for almost half an hour after Kim and Carmina head out. He tries to prepare, but there's not much he can do to close off the exits, and it only takes a few minutes to drag all the necessary supplies into place. All he can do at this point is hope that John is only strong enough to help, and not strong enough to run at the first chance he gets. If he does that, Nick's going to have no choice but to shoot him.

Nick does his best to hide his nerves as he unlocks the door. It feels weird to knock so he doesn't, pushing the door open slowly enough for the hinges to creak. John should just be thankful Nick bothers to try giving him any sort of head's up.

John, ungrateful bastard that he is, sleeps through Nick's entrance. He's found the cheap wool guest blanket that Nick would never dream of actually offering to guests, which seems fitting. His shirt is crumpled next to him, leaving Nick with the unfortunate view of his bare torso.

Nick's seen John shirtless a few times now, but that doesn't make it any easier to stomach. His skin is stretched over his jutting shoulder blades, clinging to every sharp, bony angle of his spine. Nick knows there's not much else for it to cling to - he's seen the way John's stomach sags, too much skin with not enough meat to hang on to. It's all been eaten away from months, maybe even years , of malnutrition and inactivity. The only thing left of the man Nick remembers is a goddamn shadow. Looking down at John, Nick's left to wonder how he had survived at all.

Nick nudges John unkindly with his boot, ignoring the grunt of discomfort he gets in return. "Come on," he snaps, "It's morning. If the sun's up, you're up — this isn't the goddamn Hope County Hilton."

John groans, biting his tongue against whatever snide comment might come to mind. That's too bad — Nick would love to start today off with an ethically-sourced beat-down.

Even though he wants to, Nick refuses to look away as John sits up, revealing all of his tattoos and scars. The tattoos are nothing new, and some of the scars look pre-Collapse old, but John obviously didn't let the bunker curb his self-mutilating tendencies. Some of the tattoos have been ritualistically carved out, leaving flat slabs of scar tissue behind. Others have been scratched out less completely, seemingly at random. The worst part is seeing the ten deep, half-moon gouges in his shoulders, leaving behind raw, fresh scars. Nick can only imagine what led to their creation, but he would really rather not.

"Put your shirt on and eat quick," Nick tells him, setting the plate near enough to John before retreating to wait by the door. The more space he has between them, the better. If John is going to pull something, Nick wants to have room to grab his gun, or at least to brace for a fight. And anyway, John still eats like a mongrel and it's uncomfortable to watch.

"Time to put me to work?" John asks skeptically as he drags his shirt over his torso.

"You bet," Nick replies. Should he be a cagey dick about it? Part of him thinks so, out of spite, but realistically he should temper John's expectations. Nick isn't going to be capable of putting John through the kind of torture he's probably expecting. So, he points out the dipping corner and says, "This whole floor is gonna give out if we don't do something about it. Well, I say we , but I mean you ."

John regards the spot with more skepticism. "That's it?"

"You haven't even seen how much of the house you're going to be digging out of the dirt," Nick points out. "Come on, hurry up already, I don't have all day."

——

Despite being sick as a dog, John's strength is still something to be reckoned with. Nick watches uneasily at first as John makes short work of clearing space for the beam to stand, heaving shovelfuls of dirt out the open window without regard to his wasted muscles. If John decides to come at him with that shovel, it's going to be Nick's reflexes that save him, not his brute strength. Nick's reflexes aren't exactly the best these days, so Nick hopes it doesn't come to that.

It doesn't seem like John is interested in fighting, though. Nick sets him to work with the shovel and he takes it up without so much as a snide comment about Nick trying to order him around. He slings dirt silently, practically zoning out over the manual labor as Nick watches from his side of the room. It's almost like he's in a trance or something, and it's only broken when the shovel scrapes against the wooden floorboards. He comes to a sudden stop, staring at the floor in surprise. He looks up and around, fixing a sour glare at the wide-open back porch that Nick is standing guard in front of before finally looking at Nick himself.

"That's it?"

"Hell no, it isn't," Nick sighs, gesturing towards the beam that he'd dragged in from the woodpile outside. It doesn't rain much nowadays, so it hasn't gone to rot, and it should be just about level with the supports in the ceiling. Plus, it's already got the right hardware attached, and most of it even survived the nuclear blast.

"Come on," he tells John, "You're putting this up."

Still no backtalk, not even as Nick gets his own hands dirty and helps John prop the beam up. He remains silent as Nick fastens it in place with the only three-inch bolts left in America. It's a temporary solution, but Nick's proud of it anyway, and he steps back to admire the work. He has to admit, even if John is planning something, at least his plan involves actually being useful.

"That should work for now," he says. He scratches the back of his head as he regards John — what does he do with the guy now? It seems like a waste to just... jam him back up there. He's obviously capable of working, and that's what Nick said he'd do — break his back with manual labor, right?

"Well, now that we're done with that... I guess you can get to work shoveling the rest of this dirt outta here. It's been pretty low on the list, but it's not like you've got anything better to do."

"No, I suppose not."

"Hey now, what happened to just saying yes ?" Nick grins, feeling mean but still pretty funny for it. John scowls, but he's just not the right audience for the joke, so his opinion doesn't count.

" Yes, sir ," John replies. He's probably just being a dick, but the way he says it roils Nick's stomach on impact.

"Hey, none of that shit," Nick snaps, even though he probably should lean into the boss role while he can. "Just — don't be a fucking weirdo about this, okay?"

John frowns and doesn't respond. He doesn't need Nick to instruct him any further, returning to work with the shovel as though he's forgotten he ever stopped. Nick keeps an eye on him as he has lunch, waiting for John to drop the weird, quiet obedience act that he's been putting on. It has to be an act. John's just using their mercy for his own ends, using them for shelter and food while waiting for the opportunity to strike. To take the house and the guns, to take control of everything that he'd felt so obligated to eight years ago.

An hour goes by in silence. John works steadily, almost meditatively shoveling down to the floorboards, dumping shovelfuls of dirt out the nearest window to him. He's lost in his thoughts, so much so that he doesn't seem to notice as he clears out nearly half of the living room, the shovel scraping against wood like the beat of the drum that's distracting the poor motherfucker.

Eventually, Nick can't help but point out, "You don't talk as much as you used to."

John doesn't so much as look at him, which is more irritating than Nick wants to let on. What, is he supposed to shut up now, too? Forget that !

"I mean, you used to never shut the fuck up. Guess even you couldn't stand listening to yourself for eight years solid, huh?"

John grunts in response. He doesn't look so hot; his face is pale and drenched in sweat, and he seems to be relying on the shovel to steady himself. Nick squints, trying to figure out whether or not the guy is trying to pull a fast one on him — it's exactly the kind of thing Nick would do, if he were being held captive — but John doesn't seem to notice Nick's scrutiny at all. He seems miles away from the house, from himself.

Goddamn it. The more Nick watches, the less comfortable he becomes. "Alright, come on," Nick sighs, exasperation masking his discomfort at seeing John near-fainting. "That's enough for one day, now sit down before you fall down."

It's a toss-up which of those options John takes, but moments later he's flopped backward into the mound of dirt. He leaves streaks of mud across his face where he wipes away the sweat. Nick watches, waiting for the asshole to spring his trap, but John looks sincerely too beat up to try wrestling the gun away or making a break for it. His hair, thick with dust, clumps over his face, dropping into his eyes no matter how many times he tries to smooth it back.

To his personal horror, he finds himself offering John his canteen. He should leave John to drink his own spit with their fresh water supply as low as it is. It's what the man deserves. But they've wasted too much time and supplies on John to be stingy with the water now.

"Don't get too comfortable lying in the dirt," Nick points out, "I'm gonna put you back before Kim and Carmina get home."

John nods without complaint. He takes careful sips of water, like he's trying to mind how much he's taking, which is a fucking riot coming from the guy who did nothing but take, take, take for years.

"It's the nursery, isn't it?"

Nick stares down at the dirty bastard in confusion. "What?"

"The room," John repeats with a suspicious lack of irritation. "It was going to be the nursery."

Nick scowls. "Yeah," he says. "Not that it ever panned out."

John holds the canteen out for Nick to take back, which he does. "No," he admits, "It certainly did not."

"No thanks to you." Nick takes a thirsty swig of water. "None of you got a chance to raid our bunker, but there were a lot of other people who weren't so lucky. Lots of people didn't even have a house to hide in."

"Yes," John sighs, "I know."

The nerve John has to brush aside the damage he's done momentarily overwhelms Nick, and before he realizes what he's doing, he's chucking the canteen at John's head in a vicious game of dodge-ball that John just barely wins. "No, you don't know. You managed to find somewhere to survive for eight years, while good, honest people were left to rot away on the surface and suffer through nuclear winter because you burned down their houses, you stole their supplies, you ruined their lives! You destroyed everything before the police ever showed up! You sorry assholes kept talking about the Collapse while all of us were already living through it! Because of you ! You know ? Fuck you!"

Nick reaches his hand out to grab John, to — to strangle him, to shake him , anything to stop him from sitting there and staring cow-eyed up at him. Waiting for Nick to exact a physical price for all the anguish that he's caused, waiting for the inevitable retribution that he deserves.

But eight years is a long time to carry so much righteous anger. Nick must've set it down somewhere along the way; now that it's time to resume that bitter loathing, he finds himself coming up short. Honestly, he's too goddamn old for it. He's too tired. Eight years of fatherhood and living past the end of mankind has run the rage right out of him. The idea of expending that much effort just exhausts him. What would even be the point? John isn't even worth it.

"Just — get up," Nick sighs at last. "Kim'll be back in a while and I... don't want to look at you anymore."

John slumps into himself as he stands, shoulders caving in as he avoids looking higher than Nick's boots. He proceeds without complaint or comment up the stairs; despite that, Nick still braces himself for a surprise attack, his hand clinging to the holster. He stops at the doorway behind John, waiting for some trap to spring and feeling oddly put out when nothing happens.

"I'll bring you dinner later," Nick tells him. "From now on, you're only getting a second meal on days you work."

John nods in response, falling into his makeshift bed with as much grace as he had the dirt pile downstairs. Nick's not sure he's gonna be awake the next time he checks in, but that's probably for the best. Nick doesn't like watching the guy eat, and he hates having to interact with him.

When John fails to say anything, Nick uses his silence as an exit and quickly locks John away. He'll probably sleep until dinner, which means he'll spend all night muttering to himself again. That's just what Nick needs.

There's still time before Kim gets back with Carmina. Nick drags the dining table into the living room, taking a minute to marvel at the amount of dirt John managed to clear out. Maybe tomorrow, Kim can take Carmina on a hike or something so that he can have John do the rest of the room. Once the dirt's all cleared out, they'll be able to build proper doors for the back porch, instead of leaving it open to the elements and potential prison breaks. After that, who knows? Maybe they'll be able to string lights up in here like they did back at the Spread Eagle. They could actually find a use for the generator. Hurk was on the radio recently, boasting about party liquor and gasoline — maybe they could barter for fuel?

Thinking more than a year ahead is jumping the gun a little, especially considering they have to get through another winter without heat, but this is the first time Nick's let himself imagine that far. Kim is already prepping for next year, of course, but Nick's still a little stuck on bunker time, where everything felt like a tightrope walk to survive and keep sane. But now, well — there's floor space, and Nick's even stacked plates and silverware on the kitchen counter for dinner. It's progress that he can't miss, and for once he breathes a sigh of relief and actually feels relieved.

Kim and Carmina come back before dusk with three rabbits and, in Carmina's case, a turkey so big that it nearly drags on the ground as she carries it on her back. "Shot it herself," Kim tells him, dropping the rabbits on the table. She does it almost without a second thought, wrapping her arms around Nick before realizing, "Oh, the table's back!"

Nick grins. "Figured we could use the extra space. Look at you, kiddo!" Nick turns his attention to Carmina, who still has the turkey slung triumphantly over her shoulder. "That is one big bird."

"Yeah," she says, trying to look as casually confident as her mom. She can't help but brag, "It was coming right at us. I had to do something. "

"That's my girl," Nick says, "I need somebody to protect your mom whenever I'm not around."

"Hey," Kim protests, playfully shoving out of her supposedly loving husband's grasp, "I can protect myself, you two. Carmina, take that thing into the kitchen and start plucking."

Heaving a very exasperated sigh she must have lifted off of her dad, Carmina drags the limp poultry away. Kim watches her go with a satisfied smile, telling Nick, "She's got great eyesight. I didn't even notice it in the grass."

"Thank God. Can you imagine if she needed glasses out here? We would be royally screwed. So! What do you think?"

Kim looks back at the clear floor and the table with four legs on solid ground. "I admit, I'm impressed," she says. "I expected to come back to a funeral pyre. But look, you even got the support in!" She furrows her brows at him. "Did you have any trouble?"

"Nah. Actually, it was... uh, painfully easy. He didn't put up a fight or anything."

"Hmm."

Nick's not sure what Kim's thinking as she eyes the progress that's been made. Maybe she's wondering what John's endgame is, the same way Nick wonders. She's probably worrying about how to explain it to anyone who might ask about it — Grace, mostly, maybe Jerome, if he'd ever come out this way. Nick's sure he can just take credit and leave it at that, but maybe she's seeing some hidden angle that he hasn't caught on to yet?

"If we string some lights up in here," Kim points out thoughtfully, "We might actually be able to use the bottom floor, instead of camping outside all day."

"Hey," Nick laughs, "That's exactly what I was thinking."

"Am I supposed to pluck this whole thing myself ?" Carmina exclaims in horror from the kitchen.

"I'll be right there, honey," Nick calls, offering Kim a chair at the table. She takes it with a grateful smile, leaning into his hand as he briefly strokes her hair. "Not bad for a day's worth of work, huh?"

"Not bad," Kim agrees. Nick heads for the kitchen, unable to keep from humming some old-world song he can't remember the words to, happy to put aside his doubts about John for a couple of hours yet.

[avid-author-activist]

The Princess Andromeda (1): I Crash A Date

(read it on ao3!)

Blackjack’s wings skimmed the waves below as we dipped towards the Atlantic. The salty sea spray filled the air, dissipating a little of the anxiety curdling in my stomach. I glanced at my pocket, where I kept a picture of my girlfriend, Silena. She’d seemed nervous before I’d left camp today, but these days, everyone was jumpy.

“You don’t have to do this, Charlie,” she’d told me. “Let someone else go instead of you.”

I pulled her in for a hug. “It’ll all be okay,” I reassured her. “It’s just another routine mission.”

“No… no, it won’t,” she sniffled against my chest. “I have a bad feeling about this, Charlie.”

“Hey, you’ll see. I’ll come back, just you wait,” I promised. “But I have to go now.”

As she pulled away, I saw a silver bracelet glinting on her wrist. There was only one charm on it, like a moon or something. I opened my mouth to ask her about it, but—“Stay safe,” Silena said, and I was alarmed to see tears shining in her eyes. “Goodbye, Charlie.”

I felt a lump in my throat. “Bye, Lena.” The words stuck in my mouth.

With an effort, I pulled myself back to the present. We were spiralling higher over the Atlantic, flying parallel to a couple seagulls. Some part of me wanted to put out my hand and touch one, but the glint in its eyes gave me pause. Blackjack shook his mane and flew higher, like he wanted to get away from the birds too. Man, even the horse knew seagulls were evil.

“There they are,” I said. As the mainland came into view, I could see a Prius parked right on the ridge above the ocean. If I squinted, I thought I could make out the outline of Percy in the driver’s seat. Blackjack tossed his head again, as if in acknowledgement. Not for the first time, I wondered if he was able to understand me.

“That’s ridiculous,” I said aloud.

The pegasus snorted.

As we got closer, I finally recognized the girl sitting in the passenger seat. Frizzy red hair pulled back into a ponytail, freckles, peeling sunburn. That could only be Rachel Dare, the girl Percy might or might not have a crush on. I said might not because I’d seen the way he and Annabeth looked at each other. Silena gushed about those two all the time:

“When are they going to start dating? If Percy doesn’t ask her out soon, I think I’ll die!”

“Alright, Lena,” I always said. If it happened, it happened, and if it didn’t, it didn’t. That was my philosophy on couples. But Silena always listened to my rambles about armor and smelting, so I listened to her attempts at matchmaking.

I fought the urge to reach for the photo of her in the pocket of my shorts.

Then—WUMP-WUMP-CRUNCH! Blackjack stomped across the hood of Percy’s car, leaving horse hoof indents in the metal and almost throwing me off in the process. Way to make an entrance.

“Blackjack!” I groaned. If a horse could shrug, Blackjack would have.

I sighed and put my head in my hands. Percy hadn’t turned sixteen yet, so that Prius had to belong to his parents. They were going to kill him… if he survived our mission. Maybe they’d be mad enough to dig him up and kill him again.

“Blackjack, what are you–” Percy looked up. His eyes met mine. Act natural!

“‘Sup, Percy.” I nodded and waved, trying not to look concerned about the fact that I was sitting on a pegasus that had just trampled the hood of his car. Not that natural!

“Time?” Percy asked, trying and failing to look upbeat. Rachel pursed her lips. I looked back and forth between the two of them. It looked like they had been on a date… had they been on a date? I took a mental note to tell Silena later.

Rachel looked up at me. “Hi.” Her startling green eyes reflected the sunlight. She wore a white blouse, bird-shaped earrings, and... mascara? According to Percy, Rachel never wore makeup.

Yep, I had definitely been that guy that interrupted your normal date by landing a pegasus on your car.

I waved, trying to ignore the heat rising in my face. “Oh, hey, I’m Beckendorf.” I almost expected her to snicker at my last name. A ton of people did, mostly the immature rich kids at my old middle school. “You must be Rachel. Percy’s told me… uh, I mean he mentioned you.”

“Really? Good,” Rachel said, quirking an eyebrow. The expression reminded me of Silena for the third time in probably five minutes. I tried to block her face out of my mind, just temporarily. If I lost focus like that on the cruise ship… well. That wouldn’t end happily for Percy, me, or Western civilization.

Blackjack pawed at the hood, which flattened alarmingly. Not for the first time, I wished he came with reins and a saddle. What was I supposed to do in this situation, talk to the horse? “Whoa,” I said under my breath. The pegasus ignored me and kept beating up the car.

“So I guess you guys have to go save the world now,” Rachel said, glancing at Blackjack. She seemed incredibly calm about the entire thing. I remembered Percy mentioning she could see through the Mist.

“Pretty much,” I said.

Percy looked at Rachel. “Would you tell my mom–”

“I’ll tell her. I’m sure she’s used to it. And I’ll explain to Paul about the hood.” I could see what Percy saw in Rachel now. She was mortal, yeah, but she also kept an incredibly cool head in weird mythological situations. And she was really pretty in her own way.

“Good luck.” Rachel leaned in and kissed Percy on the mouth. He turned brick red. I managed to turn my laugh into a cough as he glared at me. “Now, get going, half-blood. Go kill some monsters for me,” she said.

Percy clambered onto Blackjack’s back with a last wave to his date. The pegasus spread his wings and launched us into the sky. I swallowed, watching the ground recede beneath us, replaced by glittering blue waves. Pegasus takeoff always made me a little sick.

“So,” I joked, once my stomach had settled. “I guess you don’t want me to mention that little scene to Annabeth.”

Percy groaned. “Oh, gods. Don’t even think about it,” he said.

I grinned. “Just pulling your leg, Jackson—wouldn’t dream of it.”

To pass the time, I studied Blackjack’s wings as we soared in circles over the ocean. They seemed way too brittle to get a horse and two armored demigods into the air, but somehow they did. If I could copy and modify the design, I could build a sweet war chariot. Sure, the chariot would have wings, but that just added to the cool factor.

The sun sank slowly over the horizon, turning the sky and sea to gold. The only sounds now were those of the ocean waves below us and Blackjack’s steady wingbeats. I breathed in the salty air, grounding myself in the moment. Part of me couldn’t help but wonder if it was the last sunset I would ever see.

As the sky purpled into twilight and the first stars came out, the Princess Andromeda appeared over the horizon. The ship gleamed gold and silver in the night, bobbing gently in the waves. Suddenly, it seemed like a large and flashy piece of bait, waiting to trap unsuspecting demigods—us—with the larger and scarier monsters aboard. It was so bright that whenever I glanced away from it, spots appeared in my vision. Even so, I noted that the craftsmanship was perfect, and I felt a twinge of regret that we had to destroy such a beautiful work of art.

In my head, I ran through the countless dry runs we’d done over the last few weeks. Get in, plant the explosives, get out as soon as possible. It was a simple plan, but it had every chance of going wrong.

Blackjack dove parallel to the ship, and I thanked the gods that he wasn’t a white pegasus, or we would’ve been spotted for sure. As we sped pasrt, I glimpsed decks stuffed with countless monsters—telekhines and dracaenae, for the most part. If Kronos had his way, they would all be in New York by tomorrow. My blood ran cold at the thought. We have to stop them.

The lowest stern deck was deserted. Blackjack spread his wings and landed gently. I slid off his back, a hand on the hilt of my sword. Part of me tensed, expecting the alarm to be raised any time now, but everything was silent.

"I think we're clear," Percy whispered. I nodded in agreement, checking to make sure the explosives were secure in my bag. 

Blackjack took off into the night, leaving us alone in enemy territory. I watched him disappear on the horizon, praying that we would both live to see him again.

I told myself to stop being morbid. Percy and I would both be fine. No one knew we were here.

But what if they did? What if they were expecting us, and this was all just one big trap?

Stop thinking about the what-ifs, I scolded myself. What was it that the Athena campers always said? Anything can and will happen. Worrying about it won’t change the outcome.

I took the picture of Silena from my pocket. She seemed more beautiful than ever, even by the dim light of Percy’s sword. I decided to ignore my earlier resolution to keep her from my mind. If anything were to happen, I wanted to have her in my thoughts.

“We’ll get back to camp,” Percy said, coming up behind me. I almost jumped a foot into the air. I tucked away the picture, part of me embarrassed that he had seen.

“You bet.” I tried to bury my fears. I couldn't let them mess with my head on this mission. “Let’s go blow Kronos back into a million pieces.”

[ckret2]

Write a story of a magical transformation

Anonymous said: Actually more specific (about the magical transformation) godzilla turning into a human but after the sun sets that sort of thing

oh man it’s like reverse shrek.

nah I’m not gonna do reverse shrek to y'all that would be evil

but hey, diverging a little bit from this prompt, do you wanna check out this idea i had for a gijinka AU

This isn’t proofed since I wanted to see how fast I could write it. Answer: I could write it in about seventy minutes. Not quite the thirty I was shooting for, but!!

Edit: this is now proofed! Thank goodness.

###

Godzilla hoped his roar shook the three-headed invader to its bones.

He had bites on his neck and arms, slashes across his chest, and his throat was raw from screaming and blasting at the invader. They had been fighting since before dawn, and the sun was nearly setting now. He burned with exhaustion—but he wasn’t weakened. No. He couldn’t afford to be weak. Too much was on the line for that.

Behind him, barely hatched from her egg, he could feel Mothra touching his mind to encourage him, support him—but not able to do much more, unless she got close enough that she could get a good silk shot at the invader. He didn’t want her to try. The invader had smashed too many of her eggs already; Godzilla didn’t know if she had any left. If he didn’t protect her here and now, he might never have another chance.

The invader’s necks swayed and waved, like three golden sea serpents gliding through the deep.

The last of Godzilla’s roar faded, drifting away over the ocean, no mountains on this flat island for it to echo against. It was replaced by the sound of the surf and the circling human-made metal birds above observing the battle.

The invader roared back, three eerie alien shrieks. Godzilla could see his own blood in one of its mouths.

He didn’t give it a chance to finish its roar. He charged, meaning to sink his teeth into the middle neck, the plates on his back already beginning to glow.

###

“The sun is setting,” one said. Xir voice was quiet, flat, and cold, and yet still seemed too loud in the dark space ship. “They’re not moving further west. This is the maximum amount of solar radiation we are capable of exposing them to without restarting the operation again. Shall we proceed to phase three?”

Phase one had been creating a “lens,” so to speak, in outer space between this Sun 185,762 and its Planet 3. The “lens” consisted of billions of tiny crystals, unnoticeable to the inhabitants of Planet 3, but drastically altering the kind of radiation that the star gave off—turning it into a radiation with the power to physically transform the planet’s largest inhabitants.

Phase two had been manipulating the most dangerous of said planet’s largest inhabitants into chasing each other all day, racing westward across the surface of the planet, so that they would follow the sun as it traveled across the sky and absorb far more than the usual daily dose of radiation. Today, Monster 0 and Monster 1 had been in the sunlight for twenty hours. It had taken numerous attempts to get this far—this was Phase 2 Attempt 38, in fact—because of Monster 0’s tendency to create cloud cover wherever it went.

Phase three was taking advantage of this radiation.

Their projections had called for a full 24 hours for maximum effectiveness, but it had taken so long just to get up to 20. They couldn’t afford to waste more time. And 20 was within their acceptable range.

The one in control of this operation nodded. “Proceed to phase three,” xe said. As xir underlings worked their controls, xe added, “We will deal with any side effects of their low dosage as they come up. Begin preparing contingency plans.”

A dull white beam of light shot out from their ship toward Planet 3, vanishing invisibly in the atmosphere. “Bring up the surveillance feeds,” xe said. Holographic live feeds, sent from their spies mixed with the primitive aircraft circling the battle far below, displayed above their consoles. They all watched quietly.

###

One of the invader’s heads had squeezed its jaws around Godzilla’s throat—not enough to strangle, but enough to keep him from blasting the vile creature like it deserved. He could feel static against the side of his face as another prepared to electrocute him. He let go of his grip on the middle throat and clawed the threatening head away, bellowing, trying to get a good enough grip on it to break its jaw—

And then something he couldn’t see hit him.

It felt like he was floating in air, and the world vanished.

###

“Phase three successfully completed,” one said. “Monsters 0 and 1 have been neutralized. Nearby instance of Monster 3 also appears to have been neutralized.”

The leader nodded in satisfaction. “Report this in,” xe said. “We will await orders to proceed to phase four.”

Phase four. Full invasion.

###

Godzilla’s senses came back to him slowly. He was face down flat on the ground. His scales felt raw and soft, like he’d been cooked alive; and the sensation was so strange it took him a moment to realize that his earlier bites and scratches didn’t hurt at all.

He opened his eyes. His vision swam—everything looked distorted somehow, in a way he couldn’t make sense of—had he been hit on the head? How badly?

He got his claws under him and tried to push himself to his feet. The attempt was too successful; instead of leveraging himself partway up, he flung himself from lying on his chest to lying on his back. He grimaced, wondering what the hell was wrong with—

Wait, “on his back”? Where were his back plates?

Why couldn’t he feel his tail?

He rolled onto his side, and saw his claws for the first time—not claws. Even in the faded light, he could see that. Hands. Soft and flat, with long sausage-like fingers, connected to arms that were far too long, arms that were connected to—

He scrambled to his feet, whining in horror at the sight of his body—even his whine sounded wrong, high and nasally and weak. One of the human-made birds above focused a light on him, blinding him for a moment—when he adjusted to the light, and could properly see all the smooth squishy brown flesh where his hard gray hide was supposed to be, he had to shut his eyes, dizzy.

He kept having to adjust his balance with his arms, unsure how to totter on two feet without a tail to support him. What happened to him? He looked like a bald ape. Or maybe—no, that wasn’t possible—he didn’t think he’d ever seen a human with all its clothes off, but based on what he had seen of them, perhaps...

He looked frantically around the island, and almost fell onto his back again. What had once seemed like slight unevennesses in the ground, swells that barely came up to his ankle, were now hills towering over him. He’d shrunk. He really was human.

Which meant there was no one to protect—

He spun around so fast he fell down, yelping. (Oh, gross, a bunch of hair had fallen in his face. He smacked it out of the way.) His heart threatened to leap out of his chest when he saw Mothra’s cracked eggshell was empty, the larva taken—where?!

But no. Just in front of the shell, crouched down, knees pulled to chest and arms wrapped around knees, was another human. An even tinier human. Was that—?

He tried to roar her name. It hurt his throat so bad he coughed and wheezed. Her voice was just as mangled and garbled, but he could barely make out his own name. Relieved, he flopped to the ground yet again. (Ow, the back of his head was weak.) She was still safe.

Ha. “Safe.” Was this safe? Being human? Could she make any more eggs as a human? And how did this happen?! And what about the invader, where did it—

Something behind him let out a raw shriek.

He scrambled back to his feet. He had to push the gross hair dropping from his head out of his eyes again.

There were three more humans, arms locked together so tightly they might well be attached to each other, looking between each other’s faces, hissing and gibbering to each other in a panic.

When he stood, though, they fell silent, turning toward him. They were roughly the same height as Godzilla, but paler even than Mothra’s new body, so pale they almost glowed. And as annoying as Godzilla’s hair was, at least it wasn’t as long as these humans’, hanging down below their knees in messy yellowish curtains.

The middle human tightened its grips on the other two, and hissed. They dropped into half crouches together, bending low, like they were preparing to charge. Their long hair rippled behind them as they moved.

Their manes swayed and waved, like three golden sea serpents gliding through the deep.

Still here.

And now they outnumbered him and Mothra. Oh no. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Godzilla roared so hard he could feel his voice starting to give out. The three humans shrieked back, new voices high and piercing. And then he charged at them, half running and half falling forward, determined to get the middle one’s throat between his square teeth.

###

The Monarch monitoring ship had been dead silent for almost five minutes, watching the feed of the battle on the island.

At the first sight of blood dripping to the sand between the weird new combatants, Coleman shook out of his trance, and turned to look at Serizawa. “Uh…”

Serizawa had his mouth cradled contemplatively in one hand. His eyes were completely bugged out.

“So,” Coleman said weakly. “So, uh, what… what should we… uh… do.”

Serizawa didn’t answer for a moment. He let go of his face to gesture at their former titans; opened his mouth; shut his mouth; gestured again; put his hand back over his mouth; and gestured for a third time. “Well,” he said.

Coleman waited for Serizawa to say more. When he didn’t, Coleman nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

“Well,” Serizawa said again, “obviously, we should… go bring them some blankets.”

Coleman blinked, and looked again at the… very naked humans.

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah.”

Serizawa took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Land the ship,” he finally said. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

###

[shipmistress9]

Undine - 11

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Hicret/Hicretstrid

Modern AU. Kinda-Mermaid AU.

FF-net   AO3

. o O o .

AN: Woohooow, a new chapter! Only took over three months to get it done... And that's with me having been SO eager for this chapter! There's a picture in this chapter, and I drew this over half a year ago! And since then, it's been waiting for this moment. xD

. o O o .

Wide.

Wide and beautiful.

That was all he could think about as he gazed out over the ocean. So magnificent and alluring, as if it would hug him and keep him warm as soon as he stepped into the water. The longing was overwhelming, and he couldn't quite figure out why he wasn't doing those last steps, why he stayed where he was.

So wide...

So beautiful...

So tempting...

"Hey, love. Did you zone out again?"

Eret flinched and, blinking to clear his mind of the foggy sensation that always followed one of these episodes, gazed at Hiccup and his godsdamned smirk next to him.

"Uh," he grunted, shaking his head after Hiccup had stretched to give him a light kiss in greeting. "You're back?"

Chuckling, Hiccup nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry, talking to that one customer took a little longer than planned. But I still got all the shopping done; we should be good for a week or so now."

Eret nodded, silently accepting the fact that he must have lost hours again. Hadn't Hiccup left only minutes ago? Once back in their kitchen, he sat down and watched quietly as his boyfriend prepared dinner for them both, steak and a fresh salad to go with it.

"So, did you find out anything new?" Hiccup asked after they'd both eaten up, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

Eret shook his head. "No, not really. I... well, I didn't have time. I think I didn’t even get to sit down and open my notes this time." This was so frustrating. So many hours of possible working time – all lost.

"Well, I’m glad you’re taking the Undine serious now,“ Hiccup went on, carefree and relaxed. “But after she apparently enchanted you again today, I’d say there's at least one thing we can be absolutely sure of." 

Eret cocked his head, even though he could already guess where Hiccup was going with this.

"She really is no threat to us."

Eret nodded, though reluctantly. It seemed as if Hiccup was right. Glancing at the picture Hiccup had drawn and that stood in a corner of the room, he tried to sum it all up for himself.

It was two weeks now since he and Hiccup had both seen the Undine. They hadn't spotted her again since then, but the fact that they'd both seen the same face was proof enough. But proof enough of what? 

That she was real? Probably. 

But did that also mean that she didn't mean to harm them? Maybe Hiccup was right and she really posed no threat. But what did that mean for them? Of course, they could just go on like before, happy with the knowledge that a literal living legend resided in the ocean next to their home.

But how bizarre that fact alone was aside, all these episodes of one of them getting drawn to the ocean and basically becoming unconscious for hours... they bothered Eret. Yeah, nothing bad had ever happened. Yet. But they were disturbing nonetheless – because they were getting more frequent! Lately, barely a day passed without one of them ending up outside and gazing at the ocean as if it was all that mattered. And Eret just wasn't sure what to think about that.

Because, surely, those were connected to the Undine, right? They had to be, even though he couldn’t say why or how. It felt like too much of a coincidence that there could be two unexplainable phenomena at work here. And wasn’t it part of the legends about undines, mermaids, and the like that they were able to lure humans into the water and into their death? It wasn’t that he really feared this creature wanted to harm them… But he couldn’t entirely accept her being harmless either. 

“Maybe you’re right,” he evaded giving Hiccup a direct and possibly controversial answer. They’d discussed it often enough lately, and without any further proof of any sort, their different opinions on this matter wouldn’t change. They agreed to disagree, and that was enough for now. 

“Still, I’d like to go through my notes again tonight, since I didn’t get the chance to do so earlier. Look up all the legends that mention sirens luring people in with their song and such.”

Hiccup shook his head at that, but chuckled and smiled fondly. “If that’s what you have to do to find your peace of mind…”

. o O o .

For a while, Hiccup simply watched Eret as he stared at his screen, ruffled through pages in his books, and typed some new notes into one of his documents. He was adorable like this, biting his lip and with this tiny crease between his eyes when he was entirely focused on his work like this. And the fact that he was taking the Undine and her existence more serious now wasn’t exactly off-putting either.

And it wasn’t as if Hiccup didn’t understand why Eret insisted on gathering as much information as possible. Odin, he wasn’t much better if he thought about it. It was just that Hiccup didn’t believe some old legends, myths, or fairy tales could really tell them what all this was about. Mrs Ingerman might be their best option, but with how vigorously she’d been in her bad opinion about the Undine, Hiccup didn’t feel like bringing her up as a source of information. He couldn’t say why, but he just knew that the Undine wasn’t here to harm them. 

If only they’d seen her again, maybe even had gotten the chance to interact with her. That would certainly have taught them more about her and her motives. But she hadn’t shown herself to them again, no matter how determinedly they’d looked, and by now, Hiccup wasn’t putting much hope into finding her anymore either. She was probably still around, but as long as she was hiding so sufficiently, nothing would change. 

Sighing, he watched Eret for another minute or three before he got up to clear the table and clean the kitchen. Or… that was what he’d meant to do. 

He couldn’t even say when exactly it happened, whether it was right after he entered the kitchen or whether he at least started washing the dishes. All he remembered was that he suddenly felt too warm, the air around him too stuffy, and that he decided to go outside and get some fresh air instead. 

It was a lovely evening, the sun just about to set. The air was still relatively warm with only a light breeze blowing over from the ocean. His eyes settled on the glistening surface, smiling as the faint thought of drawing this one day came to his mind. But only a heartbeat later, it was gone again, along with pretty much every other thought in his head. 

He took a deep breath but it still felt stuffy somehow. Maybe the air would be cooler closer to the water? Hiccup made an unconscious step toward the water, then another. And another. The closer he got to the ocean the lighter he felt, his smile getting wider, his eyes brighter. 

On and on he walked…

. o O o .

With a heavy sigh, Eret stretched, the muscles in his back complaining at the lack of change in posture. He shushed them though, far more frustrated by the lack of progress in his research. There were so many stories, but none of them fit the case of their Undine. Nearly everywhere, the siren or mermaid was described as an evil monster which lured men in on purpose, direct and almost aggressive in their behaviour. And none of that fit to their Undine, he had to give Hiccup that much.

And… where was he anyway? 

“Hiccup?” Eret called, surprised that he wasn’t sitting on the couch anymore. When had he left? He got up, stretched some more, and then went in search of his elusive boyfriend. He had enough of all those frustrating thoughts and dearly preferred cuddles over pretty much anything right now. 

However, it quickly became apparent that he wasn’t inside the cottage anymore, and with a slight uneasiness, Eret stepped out the backdoor, expecting Hiccup to have gotten lost in the view, too. But he was nowhere to be seen, and somehow, that made it even worse. Calling his name again, Eret jogged around the house to check on their car, but it was still where it was supposed to be; Hiccup hadn’t driven off for whatever reason. His uneasiness grew as he ran a hand through his hair, looking around the wide-open landscape as if he expected to spot Hiccup there somewhere; which, of course, he didn’t. 

“Hiccup, this isn’t funny anymore,” he called, louder, but there was still no response. “Dammit!” he cursed under his breath, jogging back to the other side of the house. Reluctantly, his gaze landed on the ocean but he found that, for once, its allure was gone. Or maybe his worries for Hiccup were just overshadowing it. Slowly, practically against his will, he walked closer to the small stony cliff that separated the higher field of grass from the water. 

And prayed with all his heart that he wouldn’t find what he feared to find.

. o O o . 

With her incorporeal arms soothingly wrapped around herself, the creature sat at the foot of her usual rock, deep below the ocean’s surface. As so often lately, she was quietly humming to herself, the only thing that seemed able to keep the loneliness at bay – a little bit at least. 

She felt raw inside, torn between the urge to watch her humans whenever possible and to keep this safe distance at any cost. It wasn’t working. She could feel it, how her determination crumbled. It was only a matter of time before she would give in and go back, would risk… whatever could happen to her if she got involved with humans. 

But whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than this hopeless longing for something she didn’t even know. And she was certain that, to a degree, they had to feel it, too. When she felt the worst, almost ready to give up existing, more often than not one of them appeared outside, barely moving and just watching the waves, just like she liked to do, too. It was odd, but it made her feel connected to them. As if they specifically came for her, to keep her company. As if her loneliness had called them. 

And it was getting worse. 

She’d already spent part of this day with the bigger one as she called it. But where she’d been content with doing so every couple of days, she now already missed them again. How was she supposed to cope?

Her cold heart skipped a painful beat when she felt it – one of them was close again. Not close enough to find her, but inside the water. Even over the distance, she thought she could feel the warmth he radiated, making her whimper. Resisting was so hard. 

Impossibly hard even. 

With something like a soft cry, she gave in to the overpowering force that drew her toward them, floating close enough to spot him near the surface. It was the smaller one, and just seeing him made her feel lighter inside. Hopefully, this tiny bit of closeness would be enough to give her the strength to keep her distance a little longer. 

But then she saw it. Something was… off. 

Usually, the humans took off their additional skins when they entered the water, or most of them at least. And it made sense, she thought as she watched her human struggle. All those skins made it apparently difficult to move. Worried, she watched him more closely. He appeared to have problems with staying at the surface, as if the wet skins were dragging him down against his will. 

It didn’t look good.

Not at all!

She didn’t hesitate for even one second longer. From one moment to the other, she didn’t care about consequences anymore. Within a few heartbeats, she was at his side, her body condensing into a more solid form to hold him and lift him back up to the surface. He instantly gasped for air, arms and legs flinging around wildly. His eyes were open but equally wild so she couldn’t be sure whether he even noticed her or not. She hoped he didn’t.

She also hoped that lifting him back up here was enough, that she could go right back into hiding now. But as soon as she let go of him, he sank down again, helpless against the waves and the weight of his soaked skins. Whining in distress but without thinking twice about it, the creature wrapped her arms around her human again and slowly dragged him back toward the shore. It was difficult, her body not used to such exertion, and she had to pause several times, gathering her strength and holding him up almost more than she could manage. 

He’d stopped struggling by now which made it easier but also worried her. Terrestrial beings needed to breathe, didn’t they? Was he still breathing? She wasn’t sure but she also had no way of making sure. So she put in more effort to get him back to the shore and even managed to drag him onto solid ground, even though she barely remembered how. 

Frantically, she looked him over, unsure of what to do now. He still wasn’t moving. But before she even had one moment to think about what to do now, she heard the sounds; footsteps rustling through the grass above her and the weird but distinct noises humans made. The other one was coming here and quickly. That was good. He would know what to do with this one.

With two quick jumps, she was back in the water, diving in head-first and disappearing between the waves.

. o O o .

When Eret reached the cliff, heart hammering in his chest, he froze when he found exactly what he’d feared. Hiccup lay on the rocky ground below, pale and unmoving, his clothes and hair dripping wet. 

“Oh, FUCK!” he cursed, hastily climbing down to his hopefully just unconscious boyfriend. In the back of his mind, a voice was ranting about how Hiccup had been wrong, about how the Undine had lured him into death after all. But Eret determinedly shut it out. Now was not the time. 

Instead, he quickly scanned his body for any visible wounds, relieved when he couldn’t find any, and directly went over to reanimation. They’d taken courses before moving to the seaside, but never in his life had Eret imagined he’d one day have to use it on Hiccup. 

“Come on, Hic,” he gasped in-between. “Don’t do this to me.”

To Eret, it felt as if a small eternity passed as he alternately pressed down on Hiccup’s chest and blew air into his lungs. But in reality, it probably took far less than a minute until Hiccup reacted, coughing up water as his body convulsed. 

“Oh, thank Odin,” Eret gasped as Hiccup regained at least some consciousness. He was groaning, his hands fluttering up in search of something, and Eret caught them eagerly, reassuring him that he was safe now. “You scared me there for a moment, do you know that? Don’t ever do that to me again!” He was only babbling, really, too scared and relieved and shocked to make any sense. And it wasn’t as if Hiccup was all that perceptive right now anyway. 

For a while, Eret just held Hiccup. He had both arms wrapped around him, slowly rocking him back and forth and giving Hiccup time to recover and regain his senses. At first, all Hiccup did was groan and cough, but after a minute or three, he apparently found his voice again.

“She was there,” he croaked, followed by renewed coughing. “I saw her. Felt her. The Undine.”

Eret’s fingers around Hiccup’s shoulder twitched as he helped him back onto his feet. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised the Undine was involved in this incident. “Yeah, I guessed so. Maybe you believe me now that she’s dangerous. All these legends about her kind luring men into death – they can’t all be wrong!” 

Getting Hiccup up the rocky cliff wasn’t easy but eventually, they managed. Once they were back on grassy ground, Hiccup shook his head though. “No, you don’t understand,” he insisted, his voice still hoarse but urgent. “She… she was helping me. Dragged me to the surface and the shore. She rescued me, Eret! She’s not evil, not–” 

Hiccup broke off, coughing again, and nearly fell when he dizzily stumbled to the side. Eret caught him quickly, his arms firmly around him again as he led him to their home. He wanted to argue against Hiccup’s words, how that didn’t explain why he’d ended up in the water in the first place, for example. But instead, he just pressed his lips together, forcing himself to stay quiet. They would get the time to discuss this, but not now. Not, getting Hiccup inside to warm him up and let him rest was more important. 

“Whatever. But come on now, we have to get you out of these wet clothes.” Usually, a comment like that would have drawn a smirk from Hiccup’s lips and probably a comment about if Eret wanted to see him naked he only had to ask. 

But today, none of that happened. All Hiccup did was nod mutely, his eyes weirdly dazed and empty.

. o O o .

The creature didn’t get far before she paused and turned back to look at the shore. Too big was her apprehension for the human’s health; she had to know how he was doing and hiding deep in the ocean and out of sight was out of the question right now. Anxiously, she watched as the bigger one took care of him, for once not caring whether anyone might spot her head between the waves. 

Please, oh, please. Let him live!, she thought, desperately. Usually, the life of humans didn’t matter to her, but after all these weeks, she didn’t want to lose them.

The relief she felt when the smaller one moved again was beyond anything she’d felt before. Her heart was flowing over with lightness, unable to contain her emotions any longer, and there was an odd stinging in her eyes, more wetness than usual on her cheeks.

He was alive. As stupid as her thoughtless reflex to help him might have been, it hadn’t been for nothing. He was alive, and everything else was secondary to that.

However, as she watched them retreat into their construction, something else came up in her mind. The happiness and relief from before got accompanied by the returning longing as they walked away from her, but that wasn't something new. No, what was new was the sense of dread she felt. As if it had been her fault that he'd almost drowned in the first place.

But that was ridiculous… wasn't it?

With blank eyes she watched them as they disappeared out of sight, inwardly fighting against the voice inside her head. What if she'd been right before? What if she wasn't the only one feeling that strange pull toward these humans? What if, somehow, her presence affected them just like theirs did her?

Was she responsible for him almost drowning? 

As often as thinking about them had elicited some strange warmth inside her before, all she felt now was a weird coldness instead. She couldn’t even explain it to herself, but she just knew that she’d been right. Them spending more time outside where she could see them lately was somehow because of her, because they felt the same yearning she did. And it had almost killed one of them. 

Throughout the entire night, the creature stayed close to the shore, closer than she’d dared to in a long time, watching the building even after the lights had gone out. Something like today wouldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it happen again. 

For hours, she pondered even though, deep down, she already knew what she had to do. Her only option. Leaving was impossible, she'd tried that already. She'd thought that staying just close enough to watch them would be enough, but the past weeks had been anything but easy on her – and obviously, it wasn't a real solution anyway, not when it put them at risk. So what option was left to her? She knew that she wasn't allowed to interact, that it could have deadly consequences if she did. But apparently, that was true for not interacting, too.

Yeah, she already knew what she had to do, but she still needed the hours until dawn to gather her courage. Above her, the sky was already turning grey and orange as she got closer and closer to the water's edge. Once, the sensation of skin forming around her, of confining her, had put her off enough to throw herself back into the ocean, but today, it felt like little more than an unimportant inconvenience. Earlier, when she'd dragged the human onto solid ground, it hadn't bothered her either, hadn't even registered in her mind, and ignoring it now was almost easy. 

Once her feet touched nothing but sand and rocks and her legs had gotten accustomed to carrying her weight, her gaze locked on the small construction further up on the headland. Slowly, she took one step up the rocky ground, her eyes never leaving her goal. Before she knew it, she felt grass beneath her bare feet, such a weird and unfamiliar sensation, but even that wasn’t able to distract her from taking another step. 

And another. 

And another...

. o O o .

Uh Oh... I wonder how that's going to work out... O:)

[streetlites]

Tower duty is boring. It’s always boring.

“Dispatch, this is tower. I’ve got a small herd heading north unattended. Over,” I said into my comm, watching the group of cows trotting down the dirt road.

A few minutes later, a voice crackled back, “Copy that.” But I don’t see any movement from the guard house below.

I shrug my shoulders – I guess they’re not willing to chase down cows with the advisory in effect. Not that I blame them; it can take hours to get a herd back to their field.  I take a sip from the pouch on my back and allow myself the grimace, it’s gone lukewarm and has almost a stale taste. I’m only three hours into my shift and I’m already longing for a break that isn’t going to come for another hour. I can feel the skin under my mask and armor sweating uncomfortably, but I don’t dare take off either.

Patience is a ‘garden world’ – that is, a planet that can support human life. However, that doesn’t mean that they don’t come with their own set of troubles. This one is home to a type of plant that goes into bloom in the early summer whose pollen is particularly lethal to creatures originating from Earth. Earlier settlers cleared it from the areas that we live and work in but there’s a gorge down south that is thick with it. Combined with the strong winds that circulate once its sun starts heating the surface, means that you must sweat your rear off in a suit and mask almost daily until its blooming season is over.

Which is what I’m doing right now.

I sigh and check the display on my wrist – only five minutes has passed since I called in to the guard house. There’s been gusts here and there, but nothing bad enough to go inside to the sweet, airconditioned shack that serves as the base for our lookout. I tap the side of my mask that brings out a screen over my eye to scan for any manges or reeks to shoot at. There’s nothing. Just me and my sweaty behind.

“Uh, Tower? This is dispatch, sensors are showing heavy winds approaching. Return to base.”

“Copy.” I breathe a sigh of relief and begin quickly tucking my hair into the hood attached to my suit. Which is as itchy and as awful as it sounds, but you have to do it so the helmet can get a good seal. The suit hisses as I close the latches around the neck and, once I’m sure I have everything closed properly, I carefully make my way down the ladder.

My suit sensors start screaming about the coming wind – I have only a few minutes to make it to the shack before it hits. My heart quickens but I’m sure I’ll make it in time. I slide down the last couple of rungs and start off an easy jog through the field and break onto the road, coming to a stop as I see a figure running toward me in the distance with a pack of manges closing in. “HELP!” It screams, I am familiar with its voice, though I’d never heard it filled with panic before.

I pull the rifle off of my back, dropping down to a firing position and pull the trigger. One of the manges falls and thrashes on the street, still trying to get back up and resume the chase. I take aim at another, squeeze the trigger, and there’s just a click. “Shit!” I pull back on the bolt to try to clear the jam and look up – the figure is already on top of me. “Watch out!” I scream as he barrels into me, my rifle knocked loose. I feel a rush of… something passing through me, I close my eyes and scream, expecting to be torn into by the pack of manges but nothing comes.

“Oh, thank God,” Rene pants, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

“Thank God?! Rene what the hell –“ I open my eyes to see we’re surrounded by some sort of blue bubble, the dog-like creatures snap at it but they can’t break through. “How did you -?” I stare up at it in wonder. I’ve seen biotics in movies but never in real life - the energy swirling around is beautiful but its pulsing is giving me a headache.

“Me? You’re the one glowing.” He looks me and then looks away, embarrassed, “Sorry.”

“You should be sorry – running here without a weapon or a mask!” I admonish. I see my rifle laying out of reach and the treetops are beginning to bend.

“Not about that. About, you know, what I thought.”

It clicks. The bubble, Rene saying that I was glowing – it’s me. I’m the biotic. There’s a lot of superstition that goes with that type: That they’re aligned with something evil. That they can hear your thoughts. He thinks I can read his mind. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Rene.”

“Oh,” he says, almost disappointedly. Did he want me to know what he was thinking about?

“I don’t know how we’re going to get out of here,” I tell him, feeling resigned. The wind was already on us – the dogs had sunk their claws into the earth to keep them in place. Even if I could manage to run the dogs off, the ferocity of the wind would blow us into the trees.

“It does look pretty bad,” he agrees. I watch him tap at the omnitool panel on his wrist and it flares orange, creating a holographic gauntlet around the arm. The edge sparks with electricity and he touches it to the glowing bubble – for a moment, everything shimmers and the snapping manges fall to the ground, twitching. “Hah!” he crows. “I saw that in a movie once – never thought it would work but look at them! Fried!”

I watch in horror as the wind carries the bodies off – one hits a tree and bursts open. “We still can’t move – did you see that one?”

“Can’t we? Biotics move with their barriers in movies all the time.”

“Rene, I don’t know how I did this to begin with and I don’t want to end up like those things!”

“Okay, okay. We’ll just wait it out then,” he says. He scoots a little closer to me and brings his arm around my shoulders. I notice he’s wearing the shirt I always said looked best on him – it complimented his fair hair and brought out the blue in his eyes. I allow myself to settle back against him, though my suit completely blunts the comfort that he offered me.

“What were you all dressed up for?” I ask, may as well pass the time as long as we were stuck out here.

“I, uh,” he looks up at me sheepishly, “knew you were on duty today so I thought I’d bring lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“Yeah. Well, I had it but when the manges started coming after me, I threw it thinking that they’d go for it instead. I worked on it all morning. When they fried, my mouth started watering – I’m so hungry,” he laughs.

“Rene!” I laugh along.

“Not a proud moment. It’s just,” he sighs, “when you broke it off, you said it was because ‘we weren’t compatible’ but you never explained why. I knew the wind was coming and figured we’d talk it over while it passed. Like, if I knew, maybe there was something I could change? I don’t know. You’ve been working with the healer and I wanted you to know that I don’t have any problem with you working or waiting until later to have kids if you wanted. I mean, I’d still like to have them – kids, you know.”

“Rene,” I stop and the look in his eyes is worried. “I just, I mean, you wanted to move into the house,” I trail off.

“To be fair, I have six brothers and sisters. Half of which are already married with children that live there – it gets crowded! I thought maybe it’d be better if I moved in with you.”

“That’s just it, I don’t want to live with my parents! I want a house of my own, land of my own!”

“Whoa, whoa,” he says when the barrier flickers. “I would have done that, too. You know you’ve got to apply for land – and with that they want someone outside of your family to vouch for your work as a known producer, have to be married with at least one child. If you’re expecting someone like your father, you’re not going to find one your age. Hell, not even he would have met your expectations at our age,” he says, his brows furrowing with annoyance. “I love you, but if this is the reason why you broke up I guess you didn’t feel what I felt.” He shakes his head and sighs loudly. “If you change your mind, let me know. I don’t even care about,” he waves at the barrier that’s been slowly shrinking, “this. Just think it over.”

“I will,” I tell him, feeling so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open.

We sit next to each other in silence while the wind howls around us. I don’t know how much time passed to where it started to die down. All I knew was I somehow needed to stay awake until it was over. I wanted to stretch my legs, rub my eyes, but all I could do was sit there and pray to keep it together minute by minute. When Rene mentioned something about the wind stopping, I was so relieved – I barely heard him say my name as I closed my eyes.

Just a minute, let me rest.