#The terrorism is a bit much... They should pick a more harmless way but I understand the angry part

[purple--queen]

I do understand the skrulls. I would be mad to

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #26: Attrition

Masterlist

content: immortal whumpee, captivity

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Things had gone very, very wrong. This was bad. She had almost died. She had felt true terror, deep and pure, for the first time in a long time. Jackie had always seemed harmless to her, but people did strange things when scared. Perhaps she had overestimated her control over him.

She hadn’t actually planned to peel off his skin. She planned to remove quite a bit, yes, but completely skinning him was a step too far, even for her. And she would have stopped after he decided to apologize, of course. She wasn’t a monster. Maybe she went too far with the threats, or maybe she underestimated how much he hated her—good Lord, how he hated her. She saw it in his eyes, piercing and serrated and burning bright like fireworks in the night sky. Popping, hissing, searing through her. Straight through her. It was like he could see straight into her soul. God might forgive her, but she was sure Jackie never would.

Heather leaned against the wall, because she was certain she’d faint if anything else went wrong. She was still lightheaded. Her throat hurt even then, long after Jackie’s grip had left it. When did he get such a strong grip? Her lungs felt like hell, and every breath felt like rusty nails down her chest. The energy had drained from her, along with the blood in her face. It was either his reluctance or exhaustion or mercy, but she was lucky he didn’t think to use the scalpel—thank each and every star, he didn’t think to use the scalpel.

The door was locked. She checked, then double-checked. She shoved a heavy table against it, just in case. When that was done, she went to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa.

She was starting to think that imprisoning an immortal in her basement wasn’t a good idea. Especially one she had taunted many times over, more than she probably should have. He was immortal, but she was not. He would get the last laugh.

She shuddered. It was like she could still feel him, still feel his hand on her throat. Heather had never felt that way, never in her entire life. She’d lived a sheltered life. To be on the receiving end of violence was new to her.

The phone rang. Heather jumped.

It continued to ring. It couldn’t be her old boss. He stopped calling her months ago. Who else, then? Most of her relatives left her well alone, and she didn’t have any friends. It could only be one of her old colleagues.

She walked over to the phone, careful not to stumble and fall on her shaky legs. She picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Heather?”

“Y—Yes.”

“I’m Ravi. Are you okay, by the way? You sound awful.”

“I’m fine, just…” She swallowed. “I had a bit of a shock, that’s all. Hi, Ravi.” He was one of her old colleagues, yes. They had worked together on a research project for epilepsy. He was nice enough. Very bright, too, one of the most talented people she’d ever met. They got along, which was more than Heather could say for most people.

“Sorry to hear that. I called because I’m doing a study. I know you’ve done excellent work on the nervous system. I’ve spoken with Eleanor, as well—I don’t know if you ever met Eleanor—”

“I know her, yes.”

“Oh! That’s good.” He was always excited, as far as she remembered, or he just spoke that way. “It’s a short project, only three months. Would you be interested in coming? I will understand if you’re busy—”

“No,” she cut him off quickly. “I’m free. I can come right away.”

“Oh! Good, good. I’ll send you an email?”

“Yes, thank you, that will be fine.”

“Great! Uh—see you there!”

He hung up. Heather set the phone down. 

This would not solve any of her problems, but it would distract her, which was just as good. The only issue was Jackie. He would not vanish like smoke, and she could not throw him out the second storey window like a fuzzy, yellow insect. Not unless she wanted to go to jail. She didn’t want to go back into the basement, either. Not after all that. She had guns and knives, but some sudden and stupid fear made those weapons sound pathetic. She couldn’t leave him down there… could she?

Well. She could…

Not forever. Obviously. She wasn’t a monster. 

But… three months. Just for three months, just until the research project was over. Long enough for him to settle down, burn out a little. Long enough for her fear to fade.

 It was decided. Heather went to bed. She slept fitfully, waking up in bursts and pauses, but she slept. The next week, she started her work, and her life returned to what could be considered normal. 

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

It was surprisingly easy to slip into, normality—it was all she had known four months ago, after all. She’d wake up, cook breakfast, look over her papers, get ready and out the door. She’d make the commute. She’d do her research, complete her work. She’d come back home and fall asleep. It was quiet. It was routine. Predictable and familiar. However boring it was, she knew she would be safe. It was nice to be so sure of something.

That was not to say that her problem in the basement went away completely. It was easy to forget about him, but he made his presence known. 

For the first three or four days, there was nothing. He became restless afterwards. He spoke to her. Usually, she could only hear him if she passed near the basement door, but sometimes he became loud enough to be heard from the upstairs bedroom. Cursing like a hissing animal, telling Heather to get back down there and face him and not hide like a coward. His speeches were not always so eloquent, but that was the gist of them. Sometimes there would be pleading, as time went on, once Jackie realized that threats wouldn’t work. He’d knock the furniture over, bang at the door, hit at the walls. He’d say every vulgar thing he could think of. Heather never answered. She ignored him and carried on.

After the first month, they slowed, got quieter. She heard them less and less, until she didn’t hear them at all. After the second month, there was only silence. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl

@lthrboy

@whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation

[yourheartonfire]

A continuation/conclusion of the hacker protagonist and the villain who tricks them into finding the hero. This turned into a double length snippet, so the Read More is included.

Part one here. Part two here.

In the end, it came down to the basic questions that the protagonist had avoided thinking about from the start: What did they want? And What were they prepared to do to get it?

The protagonist threw their keys in the bowl by the door, sat at their desk and stared at their reflection in their monitors. It had been easier to think of themselves as a victim, as a pawn, as a freelancer dabbling in a bit of wickedness. But now they had a hero's blood on their hands and less than 4 hours until 8:00pm, when the villain would come for them. What do you want? What are you prepared to do to get it?

The protagonist tapped their computer awake. An auto-generated tropical paradise pulled up under their login window, and the protagonist stared at it- white sand, cloudless sky, and clear shallow water.

It was as good an answer as any. The protagonist swallowed, and looked around for their old webcam equipment.

...

223 minutes later, the protagonist was sitting in one of the most exclusive restaurants in town, watching the villain savor a third bacon-wrapped foie gras cube.

"Are you going to eat?" they asked mildly, gesturing to the two remaining cubes on the shared appetizer plate. "I didn't think you'd be the type to sulk."

The protagonist folded their hands and checked their watch. "I'm not hungry," they replied, just as calm.

The villain's brow creased - but their phone dinged and they glanced down. The crease deepened. "I need to take this. If you'll excuse me?" they said, already tapping away.

"Sure," the protagonist said, mouth dry. There was a moment as the villain looked at them. "Oh." The protagonist rose and went in search of the restroom. They shut themselves in and waited, heart pounding.

The protagonist intended to wait five minutes, but after about three there was a tremendous crash as the villain's enormous driver/bodyguard/henchman barged in and grabbed them. He marched the protagonist through the suddenly empty dining room back to where the villain waited, face thunderous. They held up their phone and pressed play.

The protagonist's face - scared but brave - filled the screen. "...forced me into helping them. But I cant stand by and let [Hero] die. I'm setting this message to send in four hours, so if you're seeing this, I'm..." The villain cut off the video with a jab of their thumb.

"You got that fast," the protagonist said, trying to twist their arms out of the henchman's grip. He held on tighter. "I thought I'd have to not eat the main course too before it leaked from the heroes' group chat to you."

"Why?" the villain breathed out.

The protagonist gulped, but lifted their chin. "I'm not the type to sulk. Did you watch the whole thing?" they went on quickly, seeing the villain's face go red. "I also identified your home address and your main hideout. Once the others rescue [Hero], that's probably where they're headed. You can beat them there, to all your stuff, if you hurry."

The villain bared their teeth, but whirled to the henchman. "Hold them at the pier location," they snarled, jabbing a thumb at the protagonist. "We have a date to continue. Later." The villain stormed away towards the kitchen exit, tugging their jacket off. The henchman dragged the protagonist out the front.

...

The protagonist got lucky. The henchman took their phone but didn't bother to gag them or even tie their hands before showing them into the car. The advantage of looking harmless. Though that would make the next part harder.

"That was crazy stupid," the henchman muttered, shaking his head as he pulled them away. "You know what [Villain's] going to do to you?"

"Nothing," said the protagonist, leaning back in the seat with a smile they prayed looked confident. "[Villain's] not going to win this one. You're about to be unemployed."

The henchman shook his head. His phone chimed- he glanced down but tucked it away. "He always wins."

"I texted the video at 8:05," the protagonist said, glancing down at their nails. "I emailed it almost 90 minutes ago. Every hero in town is already waiting for [Villain]- and if that doesn't do it, the unscheduled software update that's been draining his suit's battery should finish him off." The henchman's phone chimed again. The protagonist took a breath and put as much chill into their voice as they could. "You should answer your daughter's texts. Daniel."

There was a beat. Then henchman yanked the wheel right. They pulled over in a squeal of brakes, and he spun to face the protagonist. There it was. Anger - and fear. "Family is off limits," he snarled, failing to hide the terror in his eyes. "If you've hurt her-"

"Quite the opposite." The protagonist waved a hand airily, trying not to imagine the henchman crushing their skull in one massive hand. "Your daughter has just been accepted into her second choice college on full scholarship. Sorry, couldn't hack her first choice in time. Loved her essay, by the way. Go on, check."

The henchman stared, but started texting away. The protagonist waited for the slow dawning of amazement on his face before clearing their throat. "Check your bank account too. You've been paid the next 12 months' salary - better than [Villain] can do as his accounts will be frozen momentarily." The protagonist sneered. It looked good in the rearview mirror. "Except the ones I've moved to my name, of course."

The henchman swallowed, looked back at the protagonist. "What do you want?" he whispered.

The protagonist could barely keep from clapping with glee. "[Hero] will swear he saw [Villain] drag me off to my death earlier today. Back him up. Swear that you didn't recognize [Villain's] dinner date tonight - that it was someone they picked up in a bar. My name stays out of it, and I think you'll find your daughter's grad school surprisingly affordable in a few years."

The henchman flicked open a banking app on his phone. Glanced at the number. Closed the phone. Stared at his hands on the steering wheel.

"Where do I drop you off?" he asked meekly.

...

Not long after, the protagonist leaned their head against cool glass and gazed out at the starry night sky through the window of the villain's private plane. The protagonist's private plane for now - just long enough to quietly, anonymously exit the country.

Villain's arrest - and the revelation of their identity - was all over the news and the protagonist was more and more sure they had done it. They had gotten away. They'd taken only a fraction of the villain's ill-gotten wealth but it was enough of a nest egg to live off for the rest of their life, if they budgeted, made investments, all that.

But the protagonist's thoughts kept drifting to all the projects the villain had left unfinished. They'd had some real good plans going, some with people who didn't realize who they were working with. People who might not notice if someone else starting the answering the emails,, calling the shots. It didn't seem too hard; mostly it just needed someone with a bit of start-up cash and a way with thorny problems.

The protagonist sipped their champagne and frowned thoughtfully as the little plane sailed on, carrying them off towards that sunny beach with warm, calm water.

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 7

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 7: Hero Born From The Shadows

“Selfie!” Mei posed as she took a picture of herself once she won the race.

“Mei!” MK excitedly said as he laid down flat on the ground with his arms raised high.

“MK!” She cheerfully picked him up, “Man that was one wicked race!”

“We almost died,” he weakly said.

“That’s life!” She joked, not understanding he was serious, “now how about we play some Monkey Mech! You can even invite your friend over!”

“Mei, he tried to kill me,” he said once more.

“Okay in that case,” she took out her phone and had an eerie red button right on the screen as she said with a wide smile that promised retribution, “Where does he live?”

“MK WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!!” The trio yelled in laughter at MK's joke.

“I’m not kidding!” He jumped up and down as he carried the staff, “this is the Monkey King Staff! I’ll prove it to you!”

“Okay, how?” Piggy crossed his arms.

“Ummm,” MK held the staff closer to his chest as he began to nervously play with it, when suddenly it retreated inward then suddenly extended all the way to the table Tang and Mei was sitting at and crushed it.

There was a silence as the unbelievable just happen then Tang wildly sputtered out.

“HUBABABABABA Monkey King staff!” He rushed over to MK arm that was carrying the staff and held it up high, “I knew it all along! It is the legendary staff that was used to seal away evil!” Then he paused as he realized the implications and looked to MK, “wait a minute, why do you have it?”

“Okay I’ll bite, if the staff is here, where is the Demon punk now?” Pigsy questioned as he was still iffy on this entire thing.

“He’s at the shoe store,” Mei cheerily stated.

“What?” They all walk to Mei with her phone out.

“This better not be one of your dog videos.” He can’t even tell how many times she shoved that phone in his face when she was coping at that drooling menace.

“Ha! There’s always time for a puppy video, but no he’s trending,” she showed them a picture of a large Bull demon and a familiar flame head boy, “like #DemonBullKing.”

“Holy shit, this ain’t no joke,” Pigsy jaw dropped.

“What do we do?” Tang hesitantly asked

“…I have to go to Flower Fruit Mountain,” they all turned to look at MK. “If the only one who was able to stop the Demon Bull King was Monkey King then I need to go there.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” Pigsy stomped over to him, “we’re talking about a mountain that is surrounded by fuck tons of dangers. Have you not heard of the flaming mountains? It’s the reason why no one has been able to get close to the mountain in the first place?”

“Then what are we supposed to do?!” MK took a step forward, “Monkey King is the only one who is able to stop Bull King back then and the only one now.”

Mei opened her mouth to say something, but decided to close it and just wait.

“Kid look I know this is all a bit scary, but why do you think that you have to do this?”

“Well I have the staff and I can carry it, for some reason,” he whispered the last part then he put on a more determined face, “but more importantly someone needs to.”

Pigsy stared him down as the boy did the same, then the pig demon sighed as he picked up his car keys “Everyone go to the car, it seems we’re taking a trip.”

“Yes!/Roadtrip!/Flower Fruit Mountain!” The trio of humans all cheered as they made their way out, though Mei did slow her steps so that she could match MK.

“So when is Mackie getting here,” she abruptly said.

“Huh?”

“I mean he must have definitely heard your screams by now and I’m not even including the sounds of terror that everyone must be doing right now. We both know that he would already be on his way,” she added.

“Oh, um actually funny thing. He is currently not anywhere near the city right now,” he wilted at Mei’s dumbfounded look.

“What.”

“Yeahhhh he had a call for a medical emergency and he is kinda days away from here,” he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh my god, talk about bad timing,” she dragged her hand over her face, “well you should definitely call him and let him know what’s up.”

“…you know, I was thinking that maybe, and hear me out here, maybe we don’t call him,” he squeaked out.

“MK I love you like a brother, but what kind of nonsense are you saying,” she stopped the two of them and put her hands on his shoulder. “We’re talking about the same crazy brain worry of an immortal demon monkey that would fret over every last injury if you let him and you're telling me you're not even gonna say anything?!”

“I mean we can wait until he gets back, I just don’t want to bother him when he’s working.”

“But it’s even worse when you don’t say anything! MK you have to-,” she was cut off by Pigsy yells.

“Hurry it up you two! Fate of the world and everything!”

“Oh well looks like we got to go,” MK hurried out of her grasp and quickly went to the car.

“This is not over!” She yelled as she chased after him.

“Lalala! I can’t hear you!”

“Save it for the road,” the pig demon called out.

“Where exactly are we going anyway?” Tang asked, “Can’t exactly get to Flower Fruit mountain by car.”

“I know a guy who can help us out, he is one of the meanest, toughest demons that I have ever met. If anyone can help us get there it’s him.”

Pigsy was lying on the ground in total defeat as everyone was all sitting in Sandy's living room as the big bad demon happily talked about some of his relaxing hobbies and activities.

“He sure is tough,” Tang smirked as he sipped his tea.

“Shut up,” moaned the demon.

Sandy stopped in the middle of his talk when he felt a small tap on his hip as the small pigtail girl began to beg with glistening eyes.

“Oh great Sandy sir, we could really use your help getting to Flower Fruit mountain,” she clasped her hands together.

MK quickly joined her as he went on his knees and began to plead, “please, the fate of the world depends on it.”

“Okay,” he nonchalantly said.

“Really/That was easy,” both teenagers questioned.

“Anything for Pigsy and Mac. I can get you there, but it ain’t a pleasant trip.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” They cheered as they jumped around, but stopped in midair as what he said fully hit them. “Wait, you know Dad/Fuzzbutt?”

“Yeah, we have tea together sometimes,” the gentle giant smiled.

“Dad has a tea time buddy?” MK blinked a few times.

“Honestly not the most surprising thing about him,” Mei added. “He regularly hangs with Ní when he wants to take a nap.”

“…I hope they're going to be okay,” MK said as he thought back to all of the animals, creatures, and demons living in the forest. “I’m a bit worried.”

The twenty year old girl snorted, “I’m not, have you seen them? They can tear down groves of trees because they couldn’t share their favorite tree.”

“True,” not only the demons or creatures, but also the animals know how to put up a fight. He even once saw a chipmunk bite off the finger of a hunter before.

“Besides they have BaBa and ain’t no thing or demon is going through her,” she said in complete certainty.

“Yeahhh, she's pretty awesome.”

“Alright let’s get moving,” Sandy said as the two talked to one another. Then he looked towards Pigsy, “I’m telling you now old friend, if things get hairy I’m not the same demon as I was before. I don’t go around picking fights.”

“…ahhh, things have changed haven’t they,” he sighed, “We seriously need to have a talk later.”

“Speaking of talk, has anyone told Macaque about this?” The historian raised his eyebrow.

The two stop short as the pig demon slightly blanches as he whispers out loud, “hold shit, Mac is gonna kill me for bringing his kids into this.”

“Don’t think like that,” Sandy tried to comfort him, “I’m sure that he will be perfectly reasonable about all of this once we explain what went down.”

“Oh he’s not gonna kill us,” Tang said as he slowly began to get color back on his skin.

“Yeah, you're right-.”

“He’s gonna kill the Demon Bull King,” he bluntly said.

“…,” Pigsy had no words for that.

“Oh yeah, yeah he might be a tad bit angrier with him,” Sandy nodded. “Well let’s get this show on the road, Mo initiate the launch sequence!”

“Launch?!” They all questioned as they saw a blue bat leap up from his shoulder and next to the wheel where a big red button was and the car happily pressed it.

Everyone was startled as the whole ship began to shake and various noises rang out, they all ran outside to see that the ship was now supporting a few new features, one of them being three large turbo boosters.

“Onwards to Flower Fruit mountain!” Sandy called out as then the ship took out in a flash as they sped across the ocean.

“Oh yeahhhh!”

“Thank you so much for your help,” the Panda demon bowed lowly as the rest of his students did the same, “without your aid, I feared they all may have not survived.”

“Yeah, I thought that I was holding Yama's hands for a second there,” a crane, one of the students, joked.

“Just try not to take on anymore poisonous elephant demons for a bit, I rather not have to come back here and do this all over again,” Mac said as he adjusted his hold on his bag.

“Oh believe me, we won’t,” a tiger demon nodded.

“Whatever happened to him anyway?” a hippo student asked.

“He won’t be bothering us anymore,” they all look down to see the sheep demon smile at her friend’s serenely.

“W-what does that mean?”

“He won’t be bothering us anymore,” she repeated herself with the same tone.

“I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole,” the tiger muttered under his breath.

“I still can’t believe that people still think that’s she the harmless one,” a large dark wolf said as the rest of them nodded.

“It’s kinda hilarious,” the monkey smirked, he still remembered walking in on her, when he used to make deliveries, and saw her standing on top of a pile of unconscious demons. “Well, I have to head out now.”

“I wish you safe travels on your journey back,” Po smiled.

“Thanks, hopefully my kiddos didn’t get into too much trouble.”

“Have some faith in them, I’m sure they are just fine.”

“AHHH!” They all screamed as they scattered away from the fireball heading towards them.

Luckily, both MK and Mei managed to nimbly land on their feet despite the surprise attack, Pigsy was less than lucky as he fell on his back.

“Pigsy!” They yelled out and helped him up.

“Hahaha,” the wind demon lightly chuckled as she held out her hand, “I’ll be taking that staff now.”

The teenagers got into position as they glared at her, “this belongs to the Monkey King, there is no way you’ll take it!”

“Awww, playing to be a hero, sorry to disappoint but playtime is over.”

Mei and MK looked at one another and without words being shared they split off onto either side running.

“Kids!” Pigsy worriedly cried out as he tried to follow after them, but was stopped by a burst of lava emerging from the cracks.

“Aww, cute,” Princess Iron Fan smirked as she kept her eyes solely on the staff, “you think you stand a chance.” Then her eyes widened as she felt a small aura behind her and she quickly used the wind to push it back, it did little as she dodged a blow to her head.

“Ha! You call that wind? I know a vulture that can easily surpass that for her morning fly,” Mei mocked as she began to swipe at the demon with her sword.

“Little girl, you know not of what-,” she quickly dropped down as she felt a small gust of wind aimed towards her and she was only grateful that she did as she saw that Sun Wukong staff was aimed at her head.

“Don't you dare underestimate us!” MK yelled out as he backed up.

“You little-!” She winced as she felt a blow to her side.

“Should have kept your eyes on me bitch,” Mei grinned as she drew her glowing sword back and went for another.

“That’s enough,” she calmly said, though if one were to look carefully they would see that her fists were curled up in a ball as her eyes glowed a dull red. She then held out her hand, which transformed into the same glove that removed the staff, to block the staff aimed towards her.

“What?” That was all MK could say before he was blown back far away past the mountain.

“AHHHHHHHH!”

“No MK!” Mei screamed with tears in her eyes, not noticing a certain demon freeze up at the name, as she attempted to follow her brother.

“Mei, we got to go,” Pigsy choked out as he rushed to her and picked her up to run as the teenager struggled over his shoulder. “I’m sorry kid.”

Princess Iron Fan was silent as she looked to the two mortals running away from her then to the ocean where she blew the child mortal away. She said nothing as she tightly gripped the staff in hand then vanished away, she needed to go to her husband after all.

The boat was silent as it gently floated along the ocean as the remaining occupants tried to swallow what just happened.

“I’m sorry MK,” Pigsy whispered out as he looked down to the clear water, he didn’t even flinch when a familiar hand touched his shoulder.

“Pigsy,” Sandy quietly said.

“There was nothing we could do,” Tang said with his back turned.

“Nothing? Nothing! I could have done something!” Pigsy marched over to the human with rage as he grabbed his shoulder to see Tang's sorrowful face, “I could have-I should have protected MK! I made a promise to not only Mac but to myself that I would! And now…,” he trailed off as his whole body went slack and let go of his scarf. “It’s over, there is nothing we can do.”

“It’s not over,” he turned up with tears in his eyes to look at his friend, “MK may be lost, but we can make sure no more lives are lost. Make sure that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

Pigsy could only nod as he wiped the tears in his eyes as Sandy put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Someone has to pay,” the trio looked over to Mei who hadn’t said a word till now. “Someone has to fight.”

“Mei?”

She quickly wiped her face as she continued with her backs to them, “that demon bitch is going to,” she turned around with a forced smile on her face as they all felt an ominous presence among them as lighting and thunder roared in fury, “pay.”

They all nodded as a determination filled them all as they mentally and physically got prepared for the battle arising.

Mei looked out to the ocean once more and gripped the rails tightly.

‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you MK, but I’ll make damn sure we’ll end this. This is for you…by the gods how am I gonna tell Makkie?’

“Ugghhh,” MK moaned out as he slowly came to consciousness, he felt two furry hands in his hair even with his eyes still closed. “Just five more minutes Dad.”

“Ooo?”

His eyes snap open as he realized that this wasn’t his Dad as he awoke to a white furred monkey standing on top of his stomach, “uhh hi?”

The monkey tilts his head.

MK gives a small smile as he remembers the times when a monkey back home would climb onto him, “this feels familiar.”

The monkey eyes then glint as several more appear with the same glint.

His face falls, “nevermind this seems more familiar,” he says as he quickly rolls over from the monkeys’ attack and stands up.

All of them looked over to him and it looked like they were about to give chase before they paused and tilted their head as they recognized a familiar smell on him, but then they saw him stand up so that thought exited quickly as they all scurried off.

“I swear, what is with monkeys and my hair,” he grumbled as he then turned to see the ocean in front of him with the volcanic plain just bordering.

“Wha-gha!” He clutched his head as memories of what happened travel all throughout his head. “Right, that…where am-,” he cut himself off as he turned around to see a beautiful mountain towering above him.

“Flower Fruit mountain.”

He gazed at it for a few moments before he got his hearing back and began to rush to the mountain.

“Hello! Monkey King!? You in here!?” He called out as he stepped into the magical cave inside the magic waterfall, which also held magical drawings that came to life. “Can really use your help? Things aren’t looking good!”

He stopped as he waited for an answer, but as he stood there, nothing replied back. It was only him and a small house in front of him.

“GHA!” He kicked over a rock in frustration as he began to look around. He was not about to give up that easily though he did pause when a small butterfly approached him and landed on his nose. “At least someone here,” he jokingly said with a small smile.

“Yep I am!” It replied.

“AH!” He screamed as he flailed his arms at the unexpected response.

“Yes yes it is I,” the butterfly said once more as it fluttered to the ground, “the great monkey-oof!”

“Is it dead?” He questioned as he slowly lifted his foot, he was not about to take any chances, especially not with what happened last time he met with a small talking bug. He and Tang can still feel the icky grossness crawling up their spines, they can never unfeel what has been felt.

Then the bug began to glow.

“What??”

It grew bigger, its form was fluid as it didn’t take shape at first, but then it transformed into a hawk then it soared high and landed as it tiger then the tiger began to stand on its legs as it transformed into a bear until finally, it transformed one last time into a monkey.

A very familiar monkey.

The first thought that entered MK's head when he saw the monkey was that he was taller than he expected him to be. In fact, he even thinks that he’s taller than his Dad.

The second thought was acknowledging that the Monkey King was standing right before him.

“Yep the one and only,” he stood tall as he looked around the room. “Sooo, where’s my staff?” He took a step back when he saw the kid's eyes well up with tears.

“I am so sorry!” He began his rant as he tried to explain what happened and how he messed up royally when he heard laughter.

“Look kid, I have to come clean,” he looked up to see that the Monkey King was kneeling as he put his hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been kinda watching you.”

“Huh?” Then his eyes widen as he remembers all the times he has seen the strange occurrences appear. “Wait what?!”

“Pfft! The look on your face is perfect!” He laughed out loud.

“Perfect for what?!” He was making absolutely no sense right now.

“To be my successor!” He started with a deep voice as he crossed both his arms.

“Uhhh what have you been drinking? Are you sure you’re the Monkey King? I think you may have a brief stint with insanity due to the isolation. I have some herbal remedies that can help with that,” he poked and prodded at the monkey. He felt a tail wrap around him and place him down, he had to stop the sudden urge of twisting the tail hard to let him go, he still remembers all the times Dad did it to him during training. He flew so high up.

“Listen kid, you fought demons and you didn’t die,” he casually said as he opened a bag of chips. “And you made it here, not anyone can lift my staff, but you did.”

“But what about DBK?” He urged him.

“Pfft, what about him,” he summoned his cloud as he laid on it while eating said chips, “you can handle it.”

A small part of MK really wanted to throttle the Monkey King at that moment, but his desperation and anxiety outweighed his irritation as he stumbled upon his words, “but I-I can’t…ahhh.”

This made the monkey pause and he gave an exaggerated sigh as he walked over to the kid and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “look if you can lift the staff you can use it. Just believe in yourself, even a smidge makes all the difference.”

MK looked up at him and gave a small smile, he may not have the best self-esteem, but he damn well is not gonna stop.

“Now then,” he dramatically began, “the staff was taken from you, take it back.”

MK's smile then turned into a wide toothy grin, “alright.”

Wukong gave a smile to his new successor, but something in the back of his mind nagged him that MK grin reminded of someone, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Ughhhh,” laid a collapsed Red Son as he groaned in pain at the jet impact.

Everyone else was in shocked silence as they watch MK slowly crawl out of the wreckage.

“Man, that was worse than the time we tried swinging from the vines for the first time.”

“MK!” Mei rushed over to him and gave him the tightest hug, “I thought you were-you know and I saw you blast off in the fire, but you are here and alive! I am so glad I don’t have to tell fuzzbutt about your death. Wait, how'd you get a jet? Wait! Is Monkey King here?!”

“Well no, he said it’s up to me…us,” he smiled slightly at her.

“Well that was anticlimactic and sorta stupid,” she muttered the last part under her breath. Then they all felt the earth shake beneath them and looked up to see an oversized Demon Bull King.

“And how are we meant to fight that?” Tang incredulously called out the question on everyone's minds.

The teenager looked at the towering menace and back to his hands and gripped it tight as he pulled his hair into a tighter ponytail, “we believe in ourselves.”

BOOM!

The ground shook once more.

“…somehow.”

“A jet would have been nice right about now,” she mused as she kicked the pile of rubble. Then out of it slowly emerged a smaller, but still very cool looking, motorcycle.

“That will work!” He said as he hopped on the bike.

“Go get him buddy!” She cheered for him and he gave a quick nod before zooming off, leaving the rest of them behind.

“You know how I said before about Mac killing us and the Bull King,” Tang suddenly said.

“Wait what?” Mei raised an eyebrow at the absurd topic.

“Yeahhh?” Pigsy drawled out.

“Well I think we can safely assume that the Monkey King is now on that list.”

“Oh yeah/Most definitely,” both pink and blue demons respectively said as the pigtailed teenager couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fuccck that hurts,” he moaned out as he attempted to free himself from the rubble.

“You thought you could defeat me!” The Bull King laughed as he made his way towards the mortal. “I will not let a little thief take victory from my grasp.”

MK, who was panicking, quickly tried to find ways out of this, but then he heard a faint noise and looked up to see the arcade sign slightly glowing.

“Just believe in yourself, even a smidge makes all the difference,” he couldn’t help but think back to the Monkey King’s words, but there was also another.

“It will be hard, no doubt.” He heard his father's voice echo through his mind as the pain slowly subsided, “and at times it may seem like the whole world is against you, but know that you still have tomorrow waiting for you. So keep your head held high and look towards the stars, cause that right there is your limit starlight.”

And he does, he is looking past the arcade sign and looks towards the stars that make the faintest appearance among the darkening sky.

Only one thought was clear in his mind when those words combined as he slammed his staff down.

‘I can do this.’

Then an amalgamation of parts from various buildings, streets, and other places began to structure itself together to make a red and gold mech suit with a violet headband and cape.

“It’s time for your family to be brought to justice,” MK yelled out as he pushed the mech forward as he dived bomb down to the demon. “Here comes Monkie Kid!”

The giant staff impacted the demon with a loud burst of energy and sound.

BOOOOOMMMMM!

BOOOOOMMMMM!

Six ears suddenly perked up at the unexpected noise as the owner of said ears' eyes widened as that was coming from the same direction he was heading.

He picked up his pace.

“And I was all like, ‘I have to finish this once and for all’ and I started glowing!” MK excitedly said as he gobbled down another bowl of noodles.

“And then what!” Tang and Mei excitedly asked.

“And I cut a building in half and dropped it on him!”

“Coool!”

“I still can’t believe that happened,” Pigsy snorted as he ate his bowl, “scratch that I can’t believe that all of this happened.”

“I can, it just happened in front of our eyes,” Sandy joked.

“Seeing is believing…I guess,” he threw his hands in the air as he winced as he felt a sharp pain, “fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Tang had noticed Pigsy winces and went over to his side to examine.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered as he tried to focus on anything except the warm hands against his neck.

Sandy didn’t comment on just how fast Tang shot to the pig demon side and instead stood up, “I’m going to look behind back, you still keep your bandages underneath the second drawer?”

“Yeah, but I think I ran out,” he answered, “used it up when some maniac decided to throw water over the counter in a fit of anger and landed right on the handle of a boiling pot of water.”

“Yikes, well I can see what I can find.”

“You know at times like these I wish Mac was here,” Tang said as both Mei and MK nodded.

Boom

Everyone then jumped up at the sound of the door slamming open and turned to see the one and only Macaque looking at all of them with shock.

“What in the hell happened?!” He almost screamed out as when he first walked into the city he could hear the sounds of screams and destruction emitting everywhere. The scenery was no better as buildings collapsed, streets were uprooted, and people were all hiding or unconscious in various states. He rushed over to find his kid's heartbeat and then sighed in relief as he heard their voices and booked it over to them as fast as he could. Though before he could say anything else as he looked at their disbelieved, bruised, but still very much alive appearance before he could let a smile form, his eyes happened to lock onto a familiar bo staff in his son's hand.

“What the fuck?” He whispered out.

“Guess what Dad! I met the Monkey King!” MK excitedly said as he waved the staff around excitedly.

“What the fuck?” He said a little bit louder.

“And I’m the Monkey King successor!” He added on not knowing that the sentence almost gave Macaque psychic damage at the sheer revelation.

The monkey could only stare as he felt his eye twitch, he then took a deep breath to calm himself down, it did not work as well as he hoped. “What in the actual fuck did I miss?”

“Oh yeah, so the city totally got terrorized by the Demon Bull King and his family after the staff was pulled out, so we kicked some ass and MK here saved the day,” Mei proudly stated.

He can almost feel a migraine coming on as he began to rummage through his bag and brought out rolls of gauzes and various small bottles, “okay first, all of you sit your asses down and let me check the damage, and once that shit is over, you will tell me the what the fuck went down when I get a drink.”

“Plum Tea?” MK said.

“Gonna need something a little more stronger than that for this can of bullshit,” he whispered to himself. “By the gods what the actual fuck Wukong?”

“What you say?” Tang asked.

“I said sit your asses down!”

“Dad we’re all f-”

“Just by a glance I can see that some of you are suffering from some second degree burns, lacerations, bruises, and all types of other shit. So you either sit your asses down so I can fix you up or I will knock you unconscious and take it from there,” he threatened.

They all immediately sat down, even Sandy who plopped himself on the floor.

“I swear, can’t even leave for two weeks without shit happening,” he grumbled as he made multiple shadow clones to help make the process faster.

The moon shone high in the sky as many people were laid to rest. Some wounded, some crying, some joyful, some mourning, and some dead. No one still knew exactly what happened, but those thoughts could wait until tomorrow. For now, after the terror and agony they all suffered, it was time to close their eyes and let the nightmares encompass them or a blank passage of nothingness if they're lucky.

The same was said for the ones who helped stop the malicious terror that had once plagued the city, they all lay sleeping in a cozy apartment living room.

Sandy was happily snoring on the floor with Mo as he then was slightly lifted to place a pillow underneath him and a blanket draped over as well.

Tang and Pigsy were snuggled next to each other on the couch, with the pig demon head tucked underneath the human head, as another blanket dropped from above.

Finally, the youngest was curled up with one another, Mei having one arm around MK’s shoulder, leaning against the couch. Their loose blanket was brought back up as it was meticulously tucked then two furry hands softly ruffled both of their heads as they only slightly shifted.

Macaque looked at them with only sheer fondness as he fixed them up. Then his eyes narrowed and couldn't help but linger on their neatly wrapped bandages on both them and everyone else.

He made his way to the window.

“What happened today will not happen again,” the Bull King growled out as his body slowly healed itself. He is still not back to full strength yet, even when his powers had increased tremendously due to the no staff. After all, one couldn’t easily rise from the grave in full health without the assistance of miracle medicine.

“Of course it won’t, we were merely…unprepared after all,” Princess Iron Fan said as she silently stirred her drink. “You have just woken up from imprisonment.”

“Imprisonment heh, that is one way to say that damnation,” he huffed.

“But next time we will be prepared father,” Red Son confidently said.

“Hmph,” he grunted out as his mind was still racing as he thought back to the small mortal boy, “who was that little thief who claims to be the successor of Sun Wukong?” He snarled the last part out.

“Oh he is just a noodle boy who got lucky,” the flame demon huffed as the wind demon stayed silent.

“Well that luck seems to let him wield the staff, so there is some truth in his foul words. Either way, while he is no threat, he is a nuisance and you know what we do with pests” he stood up and his shadow seemed to grow in intensity with each and every word he spoke.

“We crush them,” the boy grinned savagely.

“Under our feet,” he stomped his large hoof in emphasis.

“Yeah, I have a bit of a problem with that,” a voice rang out and before anyone could react, the Bull King was suddenly pinned down by a large violet one-eyed form that emerged from his shadows.

“What is this!?” He yelled out as he struggled to break free, but it proved to be tough as his injuries weren’t fully healed.

“Father!” Red Son began to rush over but was stopped by his own shadow as well. “How dare you! Get your peasant hands off of me!”

Princess Iron Fan, the only one still free, barely reacted as a form from her own shadow began to come out, but instead of capturing her, it turned around to face them all.

“I was too naive to think it was merely a coincidence,” she sighed as the shadowy form revealed itself a very familiar simian face.

“Hey Flicker, Raki,” Macaque casually said to Red Son and Iron Fan as his eyes glinted a hostile violet, “it seems that we need to talk.”

“Six-Eared Macaque!” DBK stilled his movements, no matter how much the urge to break free, as he looked to the medicine monkey, “what treachery has overcome you that you dare make a move against us?”

Red Son couldn’t say a word as he looked at the demon, instead, his eyes were blasted open wide in confusion.

“Usually nothing,” he shrugged as he took a step towards them, “I don’t get up all in your shit when you swing by for some medicine and you don’t short change me.”

“It would be foolish,” Iron Fan said as she set down her cup with a small clink.

“Tell that to some demons,” he said as he took another step forward, “usually you guys are no problem, but now you became a problem.”

“You never interfered with our plans before, what makes this time so different,” he spat out.

“When you attacked my kids,” he bluntly stated with a snarl on his lips as his eyes glowed a bit brighter.

This stilled both father and son, but not the mother who pinched her nose.

“I was afraid of that.”

“You should be,” he sneered out as the shadows all around grew in intensity as they crawled up the walls leaving the area there in almost total darkness.

“Wait kids?! Do you mean noodle boy and biker girl?” Red Son asked as he flinched as the eyes locked onto him.

“MK and Mei, I know I told you about them plenty of times,” he drawled out.

“I didn’t realize they were the same ones,” he horrifyingly whispered out.

“Apparently not many do, so here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said with an even tone, “unless they have attacked you first, you will not lay a fucking hand on either of them, cause if you do, well I won’t be very…kind,” his voice echoed throughout the caves. “Do we have a deal?”

“Deal,” the Queen said first.

“Deal,” the Prince agreed next.

“…Deal,” the King lowly said.

“Good,” the shadows vanished in a poof and both Bull King and Red Son were freed and the cavern walls were once again illuminated by the soft glow of light, “I’m glad we can come to an agreement.”

“Will you still supply us?” She asked as she got down to business, he may have just threatened them, but he is currently the only demon nearby, and most experienced, with not only knowledge of medicine, but can acquire precious materials.

“Same charge,” he waved off as he began to walk away, “and Flicker, Sandy really?”

“It didn’t occur to me he was there until after I attacked,” he winced as he voiced his embarrassment, he didn’t notice his therapist was there until all was said and done. He should probably be grateful that Sandy usually goes with the flow, else he really would be screwed.

“Good luck on the next session,” he smirked, “Also, Daiyu wants a spar sometime, she misses having to fight against a fire demon,” he said. Daiyu has some issues going on in her mind, but that ain’t any of his business. He absolutely does not want to know what goes on in there.

Red Son blinks momentarily as she stands up straight and begins to boast, “As if she can hold her own against me! Tell her I will meet her in due time and she best be prepared.”

“Will do,” and like that he merged back with the shadows and vanished from sight.

“So what do we do now mother, father?” He looked towards both of his parents.

“We will honor the deal we made,” Iron Fan stated.

“Of course,” he didn’t even have to think to agree with that, even without the deal he still wouldn’t have attacked anything Macaque had claimed.

“And we will get stronger,” DBK finished as he stood up and began to walk away. He had no trifles with the Six Eared Macaque, even now when he wishes to wrap his hands against the monkey's throat for his words against him and his own, but he won’t. The two may have strict business relations, though the same can’t be said for his son and wife who seems to be on more…friendlier terms with him, he has a smidge of respect for the medicine monkey. He has heard the tales, both myth and reality, and he can acknowledge that the demon strove to his power through sheer cunning and wit, even if he had to stick to the shadows to achieve that.

So no, he will not go against the monkey deal, he has more integrity than that, but he will not show mercy if those mortals attempt to go against him.

“We will be unstoppable,” Red Son grinned as he made his way to his workshop. He had some inventions he’s been meaning to build.

Princess Iron Fan silently watched both her husband and son go in opposite directions. She gave a small sigh as she picked her cup back up and held it into her hands.

“It seems that the winds have changed once more, I wonder which direction it will blow.” She asked herself as she took a sip of her tea, then she scrunched up her nose at just how cold it was.

Oh yeah, I’ve been keeping the two of their reveal in my back pocket for this moment XD Props to anyone who may have figured it out along the way!

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes 26: Preparation

[part 2 of 2]

Another day, another classroom bell. As far as Monday’s go, today was pretty harmless for Summer. Classes went by fast, Veronica only nagged her about what to eat for lunch, and P.E. was used for tournament announcements so she didn’t have to change. In a few minutes she’ll be able to walk out of the student council meeting and go home to escape-

“We’re all staying after school today, all of us.” Eliza said, filing papers.

Summer planted her head on the table. “Why do you hate me!? I’m nothing but kind to you.” She whined.

“Stop crying! Did you expect to go into the tournament performance cold turkey? This isn’t one of your concerts. Multiple things need to work at once. Which is why Harriet was kind enough to keep a platform up to act as a stage in the gym. You and your brother will have the band’s support.

Nick’s face turned to terror. He could see Summer’s face begin to get excited. “Summer, I know that look. Please remember that neither the band nor I are as skilled as you. Don’t go full dictator on us.”

She could only laugh and smile energetically. “That won’t be a problem if you hit the notes.”

“Not what I wanted to hear, Summer!”

Veronica got up from the table and packed her things. “You all have fun. I’m gonna get started on that outfit. The materials should be at your house by now.”

“Not so fast.” Eliza interjected, “Did you forget that you’re filling in on the cheer team? Their practice starts in fifteen minutes.”

“B-But my fabrics!” She gasped.

Eliza folded her arms confidently. “Sorry, tough luck. Harriet saw your moves and she gets what she wants. If only Amber didn’t twist her leg.”

Nick let out a snicker before hiding his smile from Veronica. Karma is a cruel mistress.

“I myself will oversee everything as best as I can while leading my own rehearsal. Don’t think twice to come find me, or the President, who should really be the one leading this meeting.”

“Nah you’re on a roll.”He smiled.

She gave him a glare before continuing. “Anyways, I also need somebody to let Valerie know the water heater is screwed up again and also that she should at least help with hauling supplies to Amity Arena; since she so rudely skipped this meeting.”

All of the council and other student body members turned to Nick instinctively. It was warranted but man did it blow. Summer glady stood up to take the bullet.

“I will tell her everything she needs to know, after rehearsals.”

“Works for me. Let’s move people! Time is ticking.” Eliza gathered her belongings and went out the door with the rest of the staff. Summer and Veronica gave him a nudge as they walked by. “You two still have enough time to do the outfit?”

“I fixed your sister’s uniforms in no time at all. I already have all her measurements I need so the annoying part is over.”

“What she said.” Summer added. “At this point I guess I’m being moved to wherever I’m supposed to be. Eugh, after school, even the name hurts my throat.”

“Think of it like this. We get to spend all day with Eliza!” Nick yelled out the door cheekily.

“I will answer none of your questions!” She yelled back, knowing she basically has to spend the entire day around Nick. She hadn’t told him yet but she was going to accept his offer. Her curiosity about his plan was too strong. The tournament was quickly approaching. Every step forward counts. Time to kick things into high gear.

Nick found the strength to leave the table and face judgment. “Alright, let’s get this pain over with.”

“Quit exaggerating! I will be a humble singing instructor.”

xxxxx

“COME ON NICK! YOU CALLED THAT A HARMONY!?” Summer was not humble, or quiet for that matter. “I know you can do better!”

Nick endured the criticism as he sipped his water. He was prepared for this but obviously the band wasn’t. Summer had everyone in their group scared stiff and onlookers watching in awe. This might be the first time they’ve heard her speak in school, let alone emote.

Her fiery nature was on full display and it’s intensity was higher than her ponytail. Free from uniform constraints, she wore compression tights and a thin long sleeved shirt that hugged her frame. Summer looked more sporty right now than she has in her entire school life.

The many eyes on the twins' practice didn’t seem to bother her. “Let’s take it from the top.” She grabbed her guitar and began to play immediately. A quick glare to the drummer snapped him out of his trance and got him to play, making the rest fall in line. Live practice was never a thing she did often. People ceased the opportunity all around the gym to watch magic be created before their ears.

Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold.

But you will remember me~

Remember me for centuries~

She nodded to Nick and he gripped his mic.

And just one mistake... is all it will take.

We’ll go down in history~

Their breathing synced up.

REMEMBER ME FOR CENTURIES~

Summer raised her fist, silencing the band. The performer turned towards her brother and band. A fraction of a smile crept onto her face. “Better. Not perfect, but much better.” She took a sip of water. “Not to be tyrant-”

“Yet here we are.” Nick said, earning a few laughs from the band and a glare from his sis. “What!? I’m boosting morale!”

“I know. It’s the only reason I’m not chewing your head off. Here I was about to compliment you too.”

“The biggest compliment you can give me is letting us finish the song completely. We’ve only gone about a fourth through it. Everyone knows this song.”

“Anybody can know a song but few feel it. I know you know this. The crowd at the tournament is gonna want hype and they’ll most likely sing along. Our job is to cultivate it to its peak. We are the opening of the event. I picked this song for a reason. If we come out firing on all cylinders then I know we can ride the wave through the whole song! Let me feel your hype, your energy!”

Nick pursed his lips. “If you want energy, then you let these guys have fun! Ice breaker time!” Nick spun around and pointed to the band. “Give me a funky beat!”

The members looked at one another, shrugging before kicking in a fun, funky classic; Billie Jean!

Nick let out the biggest “Yeah~” then started moonwalking around Summer. “Come on Summer, you can’t resist the beat!”

“Really? Of all the songs you think I’m just gonna-” She kicked her leg out and then twirled to the microphone.

She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene…!

Nick hopped with joy before chiming in as the band jammed out. Eliza watched the two from off stage with her color guard troop in disbelief, joined by Veronica seconds later in her cheerleader uniform. Eliza waved her hand to her group. “Guys, take ten. I guess it’s break time.”

“Those two seem to be having a ball. They always like this with council stuff?”

“Hardly. It’s the only reason why I’m not yelling at them right now. Can’t remember the last time they looked happy to participate. They can laugh their lungs out as long as the work gets done. Might motivate the others. Anyways, how are you holding up?”

“Oh you know, as much as a newbie could be in this situation.” Veronica shook her pom-poms for dramatic effect. “Feels nice to do something like this again though. It’s like wearing an old glove.”

“History with cheerleading?”

“Gymnastics, my ribbon work doesn’t stop with a needle. That was some time ago but I digress.”

“I see. Well...you move like a pro.” Eliza said, a little stuttery. She played with her hands a bit while focusing on the twins.

Her elevated heart rate rang like a bell while her movements reminded Veronica of herself whenever she first met Coco Axel. “So...a little birdy told me I got a fan of my work here? Got any clue who?” She teased, enjoying Eliza's jump a little. Poor girl's cheeks went red.

Eliza felt a crushing betrayal. “Which twin opened their big mouth?”

“Is the ‘who’ that important?”

“Ah so it’s both?”

Veronica tucked her lips in. “Uhhh I won’t confirm or deny that. To think I’d have a fan all the way up in Atlas?”

“Please, we don’t have to discuss .”

“Why not? No reason to hide it. I’m honestly flattered by it. Civil rights movements don’t attract the right kind of like-minded individuals typically. Then there’s the obvious regional differences.”

“Huh? Regional differences?” Eliza tilted her head. “Have faunus here been giving you a hard time?”

“No, but that’s because I’m making zero effort to approach them. Faunus here as a whole are treated crueler than other places. An outsider like me coming in and trying to ‘relate’ never goes over smoothly.”

Eliza was surprised. She had never heard of that before. “Oh, I guess I was being a bit presumptuous. Apologies.”

“No it’s fine. It’s just one of those annoying little things. A lot of the preach about wanting a voice and equality but sing a different tune when those voices start speaking because they aren’t the ones those people had in their heads. Sigh, we faunus are fickle creatures.”

“Boy, sounds like you hate your job?”

Veronica laughed, “Haha! I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe it’s my unique circumstance but as far as my personal beliefs go, Faunus and Humans are basically the same. They both hate and judge others far too viciously due to bias. I may advocate for our rights, but I’m not above calling ourselves out. It’s probably why the elders especially don’t care for my efforts.”

Veronica turned to Eliza and smiled. “Sorry, rambled for a bit there. Hope I’m ruining your hero perception of me. That is if I am a hero to you?”

“No. Wait! I mean it’s not ruined! You’re definitely inspiring to me. So much in fact that I got a cool magazine cover of you!” It took a minute, but Eliza’s brain registered what she had just said. “I…why did I tell you that?” Eliza facepalmed.

Vee was in shock. Her jaw slowly fell open. “Wow, you are a total fangirl right now. I didn’t think you could look embarrassed. Ha, you’re adorable blushing!”

“Please don’t talk about it…”

“Can I see the magazine cover? I’ll be honest. I rarely pay attention to those puff pieces. My mom handles all that.”

“Really?” Eliza patted her pockets before pulling out her scroll. “It’s from your rally in Vale.”

Veronica had a peek. “Oh I remember this!” The picture was from a year ago. Vale’s rally was pretty huge and loud. The photo was taken right when she had stood proudly on top of a car with a megaphone, protesters following her to city hall. “Not to toot my own horn but look so cool in this.”

“It’s surprising you’ve never seen it.”

“My eyes are usually glued to my sketchbook or a threaded needle. If I’m looking at myself then it’s in the mirror to see how fabric falls onto me or someone else. Speaking of clothes, maybe I can make you an outfit? First one is free. Just wear it to an event; tell your friends about it.”

Eliza lit up, but then immediately started to cringe. “An event is no problem. However...uhhh, yeah, rain check in the whole friend part. A social butterfly, I am not. Don’t have friends.”

“Uh Nick and Summer?”

“Gross.”

Veronica could barely stop herself from laughing out loud. The speed in which Eliza answered was swift to say the least. “Wow, and I thought the twin’s aunt was blunt? Are you sure that message is clear to them, because I’m positive they think you’re a friend.”

“I’m friendly, but not a friend.”

“Do you have their number?”

“Yes.”

“Sad to say you’re their friend. Don’t fight it.”

“What!? That’s not how- what!? From what I understand you and Summer aren’t friends, but I’m positive you have her number.”

Veronica nodded. “Yeah, but that’s necessary for multiple reasons. Besides, we actively shit talk one another. I reckon you don’t. I’m not saying you three are tightly knit. Just that you’re close enough.”

Eliza folded her arms and huffed. “I suppose so. That’s...annoying.”

“Look on the bright side.” Veronica grabbed Eliza’s scroll to put her number in. “Now you aren’t alone. We can complain about their antics together.”

The grin Veronica gave Eliza made her Eliza sheepish. The abrasive girl took her scroll back. “That...sounds nice.” She laughed under her breath.

Veronica couldn’t stop examining Eliza. This girl was all over the place! It was a little funny, awkward, and yet flattering. “Is this how the twins feel meeting fans?” The young lady could get used to this.

“Your last name is Marigold right? I’m so used to such a fierce expression that seeing you like this feels a bit unusual.”

“Used to? I take it you’ve spoken to my aunt then?” Eliza lit up.

“Not really. She’s been at events my mom dragged me to before. Didn’t speak with her directly but she looked pretty interesting. Her and my mom worked together before. You both and your father have some strong genes. I bet the mom must be jealous.”

“I...doubt it.” Eliza said, her tone drifting. The smile on her face faded back to neutrality. A silent breath escaped her lips while her eyes gazed into distance. Her change in attitude didn’t go unnoticed. Veronica’s ears fell watching her.

“Shit, did I...bring up something touchy?”

“It’s okay, honestly. I just wouldn’t know how my mom feels since...I’ve never had one.”

“Oh. I had no idea. Do you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Not really. It’s really not that big of a deal. You just caught me off guard since I’m used to people knowing that part of my life.” Eliza raised both her hands and gave her face a light slap to get out of her funk. Moping about nothing is pointless. Right now she was talking to Veronica, a person she admires! This was supposed to be exciting! “Phew! That’s better. Let’s change the subject. I don’t know much when it comes to fashion, but I have read about some of your involvement in contests.”

For a moment it felt like Veronica’s body had been hit by a truck. The muscles in her body constricted at once and her stomach felt queasy. “Have you now?”

“Just a little bit. It came up from time to time when I learned about your work with your mother. I gotta say your outfits definitely have your personality. More so than some of your contestants.”

“Heh, that’s not what judges think.” Vee uttered. “Not a first place prize to my name.”

“That may be true but that doesn’t make your designs less interesting in my opinion, but I know how you feel. It stings entering contests and sometimes not even making it to the end. Still, I really thought one dress in particular had it in the bag but…” Eliza silenced herself suddenly. She had forgotten the topic of this particular contest may not be light at all. “You...got disqualified?” She finished, cringing at her own stupidity.

“Yep. I got disqualified. No medal at all for that one.”

The air felt dead. Eliza clicked her tongue. “I had forgotten that part. The article never said why though, so it stuck out to me. If..if you don’t mind-”

“I actually do, a lot.” Veronica’s sharp response made Eliza jump a little. A few people passing by took notice of the aggressive tone, making Veronica mentally kick herself. “Shit, that wasn’t supposed to be so...I’m touchy about that day.”

Eliza waved off the comment like she was the one in the wrong. “It’s fine! I should’ve known better.”

“I guess we’re both even now huh?”

“Even!? I wasn’t trying to get back at-”

“Haha, relax before your heart explodes. It was just a tease.”

Eliza’s for got red. “Oh...of course.”

“You weren’t kidding about not having friends. I thought I was bad at small talk.”

Eliza held her head down. “I’m like a dumpster fire…”

“Ha, I can see that. I guess I’m fortunate to do speeches often. Easily the savior of my social skills. My parents are great but I wouldn’t say they aren’t the most elegant people in conversations. At least not ones that aren’t in front of a camera where they have to be. In a regular conversation they are as uncoordinated as they come.”

“I can see that. Yang’s sister does live here after all. She definitely has her own way of holding a conversation.”

“Pfft, that’s one way to put it. Just shake it off. We’re all kinda tone dead I guess.” Veronica laughed. This was fun. This was actually fun. Talking casually, who would’ve thought? She grabbed her water bottle to drink.

Eliza was also having a pleasant time. She was running low on conversation starters though. There had to be something that shouldn’t go horribly wrong. That’s when it came to her…

“So your head over heels for Nick right?”

Water sprayed out of Veronica’s mouth. How did each question keep getting her!? It shouldn’t even have been that bad yet here she was, choking over the most basic thing that everyone knew! Normally she hated being touched but feeling Eliza pat her back was gladly welcomed.

If Eliza didn’t feel bad before, then she definitely did now. “I am so sorry!” her voice was so spastic it would make Summer look calm. “I told you I’m terrible at this!”

“No, agh, no… this one is me!” Veronica coughed. “Damn, that really hurt my chest. It’s like the entire gulp went down the wrong pipe!” A few more coughs and another sip of water cured the promise. Veronica rubbed her chest and tearfully looked at Eliza. “Yeah I’m into him. Why do you ask?” Her desire to act like she didn’t nearly die was strong. “Wait, don’t tell me you like him too!?”

Water wasn't the only thing that was gonna be on the floor with questions like that. Eliza made a face that looked like she may have gagged out of spite. “Ugh, not a chance.” She folded both her arms aggressively.

“Cool, that would’ve been weird.” Veronica thought. Then Eliza began rubbing her chin. That was never a good sign.

“Weeeeeell…” Eliza said.

Veronica deflated like a balloon. “Here we go…”

“Huh? No! It’s not what you think. I don’t like him like that, or much at all really. However, I can’t deny he is...charming to put mildly. I can recognize that. As a whole, I don’t like Nick that much. There’s too much that grinds my gears. That said, there is a side to him I deeply appreciate. Don’t tell him that or I’ll deny it.”

Her tidbit made Vee’s cat ears wiggle. “You gonna leave me hanging like that? Elaborate a little.”

“Really? I didn’t want to diss him in front of you or anything.”

“Tah! Nick doesn’t need anyone coming to his defense and I’m not gonna bite your head off over an opinion, most likely.” She had to add that last part. Veronica doubted Eliza was going to say something that would be unapologetically mean but you can never know what a person could say. “Speak your mind.”

Eliza looked towards the stage to watch the council president in question adjust some light equipment to put on his sister. “That boy is...selfish in the wrong way.”

That sure was an answer. Veronica tilted her head. “I...don’t follow.”

“Nicholas Schnee is a people pleaser, yet he goes out of his way to do things on his own and inefficiently. He has the qualities of a great leader but doesn’t truly lead anyone. Instead he bends over backwards. This entire concert was his idea yet he chose not to fill anybody in on this for weeks; leaving us in the dark when we could’ve been further along. All that money, trust, and influence, yet I fail to see him use it with the care I know he knows how to do. It’s so annoying! Agh, I wish I had a fraction of what his name has.”

“Sounds like to me you’re a little envious?”

“A bit, but that doesn’t change my view of him. You know him. Am I wrong?”

“I’m the last person to judge right or wrong here, but I see what you mean. Nick definitely has his faults, no argument there. I told him the other day he was a bit pushy at times and overbearing. Still, I wouldn’t say those qualities are bad. Nick is… a man on a mission.”

The administration in Veronica’s eyes was clearer than air to Eliza. “Opinions aside, his heart is good. The love he has for family and friends is undeniably. I respect that.”

“Is that the part you deeply appreciate?”

Eliza shook her head. “No, that quality is a given. The side I like is one few people see. I witnessed it for the first time at a red carpet event several years ago. It was our first time actually speaking. I stubbornly declared I’d beat him in a tournament and show everyone how beneath me he was.”

“Wow, your social skills really are rough.”

“Cut me some slack. I was fourteen and cocky. Anyways, I expected him to laugh it off and give that fake smile he gives to the public. Instead, he gave this smug smirk at me and said ‘I can’t wait.’ It was actually chilling. I could tell from his eyes that he was threatening, no, intimidating me. He had no problem letting me know he wanted to take me down, and that’s exactly what he did on tournament day. However, right before our match, Nick took me to the side to chat. It was my first tournament. The anxiety I had was a plan on my face. Instead of using that weakness, he gave me tips to calm down. Having him focus solely on me in that ring was thrilling, different from his usual self. There’s an honesty about it I like. No way somebody can be nice all the time.”

It was for that very reason Eliza knew she had to hear Nick’s offer out. Whenever that look comes out, it spells trouble for who caused it. To think the plan involved beating Valerie? What could he possibly be up to?

Veronica rubbed her chin, intrigued. “So that’s your reasoning. Hmm.” She snapped her fingers and smirked. “Masochistic.”

Eliza bugged out. Her jaw dropped and she was seconds away from protest, until the snickering from Veronica let her know she was teasing again. A smile slowly formed and Eliza playfully elbowed Vee. “Shut up.” She laughed. “Talk about a mood killer.”

Veronica stuck her tongue out before breaking out into laughter when Eliza. Hard to believe the key to being social was being kinda bad at it? It was nice making a friend. Veronica didn’t say it but they were glad to be here.

Across the room, the gym door opened. “Well look who’s having fun!?” A voice bellowe, the condescending echo gaining everyone’s attention. To many’s displeasure, it was Darren sauntering in with his silent partner Max behind him. “Sounds like a real party here. Care if I join? Maybe shake things up a little?”

The upperclassman paced like he owned the place, watching. “Hard at work for my big day?” His eyes go to the stage. “Well if it isn’t the Jester of the School!”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Very original. I’d love to hear more of this comedy act but unfortunately the gym is closed for regular students. Please take your friend and your clown makeup somewhere else.”

“Pfft, you diss like a child.”

“Said the man who called me a jester.” Be it a deity or the universe itself, people should count themselves lucky Nick had high tolerance for stupidity. Darren’s presence was grinding it down however. Punches and nearly getting a friend hit by an asshole’s car did that to an individual.

Summer could see the sparks fly between the two. Grabbing the microphone from Nick with no hesitation, Summer took the lead. Unfortunately for Darren she didn’t have her brother’s tolerance, and she was on her favorite spot in the whole world. “You’re interrupting our practice and wasting my time. Beat it.”

The gym went silent. Did everyone hear that right? Summer Schnee...was rude!? Darren blinked twice, stunned. “Excuse me but, nobody was talking to you.”

“And nobody invited you. Scram.” She shooed him away as if he was a bug.

“Now is that anyone to talk to a superior? I don’t care how famous you are or what your last name is, you little princess. You just keep singing like a little songbird; it’ll be the only good press you get that day before losing to yours truly!”

Summer out of this expression of confusion. “And your name is…? Sorry, I just have a really hard time with faces when they don’t even rank in the top five.” Multiple ‘oooos’ and chatter started going. “Is Dean? Dunce? …..Dumb and Dumber?”

Max let out a simple “Hmph” while Darren got pissed. “So you got jokes huh?” He said through his teeth. It only took one step closer before Nick immediately stepped in front of his sister. Before either could give the audience a glimpse of tournament match l, Eliza flicked the lights off and on to gain everyone’s attention.

“HEY! Knock it off, all of you.” She demanded. Darren’s gaze came her way and towards Veronica by extension. Eliza took a step between the two, stopping a problem before it could start. “Na uh, eyes on me. One word to her and I might let Principal Coal know. May I remind you that after recent behavior it would behoove you to act like a respectable upperclassman, or else-”

“Hey hey hey there, little one, I just came in here to mingle a little; shoot the breeze and all. I’m not the one who got all bent out of shape and started insulting people. Ain’t that right Max?”

Unbothered, Max put his hands behind his head. “That is what happened; dumb jokes or not.”

“Yeah that’s- hey! You aren’t talking about my jokes are you!?”

Eliza took a deep breath. “Consider the breeze shot to hell. Now if you would kindly be on your way so-”

“Uuuugh, you’re so boring, acting like a lifeless doll and shit. Even her frail and tone deaf highness behind me showed some backbone for once.”

“Tone deaf!?” Summer yelled. She would’ve thrown her microphone if Nick didn’t take it from her. “Oh I really hope your bite is at least half as good as your bite. This ‘Princess’ thinks you deserve a public beat down for the world to see, personally delivered!”

“See you at the tournament!” Nick added.

Darren pointed behind himself. “See? At least they’re interesting.”

“If getting egged on by your limp insults is what you want then why should I even bother?” Eliza stepped to the side. “Best be on your way. You can earn my wrath whenever you feel man enough to enter a solo tournament instead of hiding behind your partner.”

“Oh yeah?” Darren glared. “Tough talk from a-” The back of his shirt was pulled by Max.

“Time to go. You’ve had your fun, and I’m getting a headache. No use talking. Let the tournament do all the bragging.” Max began dragging Darren to the exit until Darren brushed him off to walk himself. He gave Eliza one last pissed off look before giving a smug face as he walked away. “Tsk, drug baby.” He mumbles.

Loud footsteps and the sound of metal clanged behind him. Darren quickly turned around, ready for a fight. “Well I guess you can get ma-”He didn’t move. What he thought was Eliza losing her cool was actually her defending him with her baton from a very pissed heir with an Arma Gigas.

“He’s quicker than he looks.” Max grabbed Darren again and all but tossed him out the gym before any actions became an incident.

“Care to tell me why you wanna fight my battles?” Eliza complained.

“I’m not fighting your battles. My patience just got a little restless.” Nick unsummoned his blade and walked away. Thoughts of last night suddenly came to mind, making him sigh. “Sorry. Overstepped a bit. I’m gonna cool off.” He groaned.

Eliza rubbed the back of her head. That was...off. Nick must’ve been more ticked off by Darren than she was aware of. “Just don’t get so jumpy. The last thing I need is you not being able to kick his ass because you got suspended.”

“Haha yes ma’am.”

Eliza clapped her hands loudly. “Okay everyone! Get back to business!” She shouted, returning everything to normal. Thank the gods for at least giving Eliza cooperative staff members. Her body slumped over. Why can’t any event be peaceful! Damn that Darren! Now she wished he was in the solo bracket. Her head lifted to look at Veronica. “I take it if Nick heard that then so did you?”

“Little bit. I can pretend I didn’t. Makes no difference to me.”

“Don’t sweat it. Who likes beading around the bush anyways? You asked about my mom earlier. Now you basically know. To make a long story short, my dad in his younger years spent his money in...less than responsible ways. Who needs love when there’s plenty of clubs and corners with people looking to make a quick buck? My mother just so happened to get a little more than just lien.”

Veronica’s face scrunched up. “Yikes. That’s a lot to unpack.”

“Not really. Never had a mom so it’s not like I’m yearning for a connection when there never was one to start with. One day my dad noticed her pregnant and like you said before, I have strong features. A woman parading around with no home, every drug under the sun, and a potential baby that looked like the CEO of a company one kingdom above is a recipe for ruin. Many board members thought it best for my father to deny anything and everything. Apparently a few of them along with some kind individuals thought it best to move my mother in with him. This way the baby, me, would at the very least be healthy.”

“What about your mother?”

“Ultimatum. Fall in line with this new society and learn to act like a high class citizen, or take a generous amount of money to keep quiet. I don’t look like her so spinning a story wouldn’t do her well, and high class society didn’t mean she could get high any hour of the day. Took the money and never looked back. Tabs were kept on her for a while but she eventually became white noise among the gutter trash of Mantle. A druggie with tons of cash is never good. Most likely ended up in a gutter from overdose or somebody who caught wind of her spending habits.”

“Eliza that’s...I’m sorry that happened.”

“Eh, I’m not losing sleep over it. Not like I got a bad deal either. Contrary to what people might say about my name, my father is a decent man and cares for me as well. He’s by no means perfect but who is? Aunt May told me once that if nothing else, my dad doesn’t make problems bigger than what they have to be. I didn’t ask to be born, so resenting me would be shallow. We get along and that’s all that matters family wise. Though...it’s not like he got a raw deal out of it.” Eliza conjured a small flame in her hand. “He took the high road and learned he got Remnant’s first magical daughter in ages. Talk about good karma.”

“Way to look at the positives.” Veronica said.

Eliza put out the flame. “It’s just the facts. Unfortunately rumors floated and not all people were happy with the decision, so little tidbits here and there got learned. As you can see with Darren’s mouth almost getting him into trouble. The only thing bigger than his mouth is his ego.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with his type.” Veronica said with annoyance. She was too familiar with it.

“Anywho, I should get back to practice. Thanks for chit chatting. And people say it’s bad to meet your heroes and stuff. I guess they’re meeting the wrong ones.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I mean I’m pretty rad but you know...modesty and all that. I’m no Blake Belladonna or Yang Xiao Long. Just little ol’ me.” Veronica chuckled. “See ya around?”

“Sooner than you might think.” Eliza twirled her baton and went on her way.

Veronica watched the girl leave. No wonder Nick chose Eliza to be the one to keep an eye on her. She was tough as nails; with or without the uniform! A shame Darren outed her like that. Veronica felt a little dirty learning something Eliza didn’t want to tell her. Veronica was surprised that Eliza didn’t ask for her to return the favor. Then again, it would’ve been pointless. Veronica knew herself. She wouldn’t say a word regardless of fairness. She might have even lied. The girl let out a sigh, taking a moment to look down at herself before heading back to practice. Some things are just better left unsaid.

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part eighty four/

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Enjoy! 

Warnings: language, semi fluff, angst

Taglist:  @brideofdraculana​, @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol​,  @anntheboneless,  @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @awkwrdcait,  @countrygirlswonderland, @thatbandchick39 @awesomealmostdopestudent, @oskea93, @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox,  @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @broke-n-bitchy @thanks2pete,  @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001,  @waywardprincess666, , @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london​, @nassauartist  @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe,  @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong  @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier @youretheonlyonewhomakesme, @xxisxxisxxis, @dogmom2014, @cruesixxlover1991, @xpoisonousrosesx, , @m0rnlngstar, @love-struck-aries, @findingmyths, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @motleycrueprincess, @redlipscrystalskies14, @samanthadegaro @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @thechangingme, @patheticgay69, @idkmanhereisshitilike, @makaelahdelvalle

“You said you got rid of it?! Why do you still have her number, Nikki? Am I just a fucking joke to you?! I am coming here to talk to her-“ I shouted, pointing my finger at our therapist as I burrowed holes into green hues, “-because you wanted to work on things! This was your idea and yet you are still doing the same crap I don’t want you doing!”

We were currently standing in the middle of the therapy office, nose to nose as our chests heaved in anger. Nikki's cheeks were red, matching mine as his jaw was clenched and my fists were balled tight at my sides. The thunder claps were barely audible outside over our yelling match.

"It's nothing! It's just a god damn phone number, Vanity! You are blowing this all out of proportion like fucking always! She is just a friend!" Nikki raises his voice, his breath hot as I shook my head and smirked in his face.

"Oh bullshit Nikki! I wasn't born yesterday. She's a pretty blonde with fake tits and she has bad intentions, why can't you just see that and say sorry?! She knows about me and knows about Arianna!"

Nikki groaned, rubbing his face "Jesus, Van. You don't know her like I do! Donna isn't like that! We're just friends and it isn't romantic or sexual! You don't need to be insecure over it."

"Insecure?" A confused expression riddled my face as I stared at him, "Are you even listening to yourself? Maybe I wouldn't be insecure if you didn't talk to other women Nikki."

"Vanity! I'm not talking to her like you think I am!! Jesus Christ!" I took a step back when Nikki threw the plastic water bottle in his hands down at the floor, "Just fucking trust me for once and believe me when I say nothing is going on!"

I turned my cheek, glancing out the window at the rain droplets hitting the glass as the fog was rolling in. I sat back down in the chair, resting fist against my cheek as I glared at the clock. I-I just don't understand why he would lie, say he threw it away and then have it again. If he didn't want to do this he should just say so and save us the fucking trouble.

"Vanity?" I glanced at Crystal, "Did you hear me?"

"No, sorry." I mumbled crossing my leg over my knee and sitting up straight.

"I think you two should consider seeing other people for the time being. I thought you two were making progress, it's like you two took five steps back from where we were getting. Now, I'm not talking about moving out and finding someone to marry. Just some dates, see all the options that are out there." Crystal suggested as I shook my head bitterly, "Can you two do that? We'll try this approach and if it becomes to much of a problem the we'll try something else, alright?"

I saw Nikki shrug out of the corner of my eye, "Yeah, sure. I can do that." I rolled my eyes and roughly pulled a string off my jeans, "I'll be seeing Donna Friday evening anyways."

My eyes darted to him as I quickly got up and grabbed my purse and walked out of the office, "Van-" I heard them both yell for me as I slammed the door shut. I stormed out of the office and onto the front steps before I started walking to the car, being absolutely drenched by the pouring rain.

How can Nikki tell me it's harmless and it's nothing and then turn around and say he's going out with her? That doesn't make any sense to me. Why would he suggest going to therapy if he was just going to talk to another women behind my back again? I wiped my eyes, rain and tears mixing as they dripped off my chin. My teeth were chattering and my finger tips were turning numb from the cold as I dug the car keys out of my purse, hearing Nikki yell for me as well as boot prints splashing in puddles.

"Look, I'm sorry that I just said it like that back there. But I think it might be good if we did take a break."  Nikki spoke, attempting to catch his breath as I glared at him and got in the car, turning it on and immediately cranking up the heater, "I love you but fuck, we ain't getting anywhere with the therapy Vanity."

I shook my head, staring out the window before I started to drive us home "Glad you already decided this for us Nikki. How long have you been talking to her?"

Nikki sighed, "Just a week or two. I ran into her. Our publicists office is in the same building as her managers office. It's not serious Van, I swear. I haven't done anything with her either, it's just been phone calls here and there and she asked if i wanted to go to dinner with her Friday, and I said yes."

I sighed as I reached for one of his cigarettes in the cup holder, it was a New Years resolution to quit but I think this was a reasonable reason to have one, "You should've just been honest with me."

"So you could be pissed even more-"

"No, Nikki! Out of fucking respect." I snapped quickly, "You could have told me so I wouldn't have been blind sided in there. I feel like a damn idiot." I wiped hot tears and rain droplets of my cheeks, feeling Nikki's hand rest on my knee before squeezing it lightly, "Please don't touch me right now." I shoved it off of my body as I gripped the steering wheel after.

"Vanity, I'm sorry. I really am. I just didn't know how to tell you. But, I think we should consider using the therapists advice and and trying it out. That's all."

I ended up tuning him out. I didn't understand how Nikki could be so, so calm and collected about this. If it was the other way around and I wanted to see another man he would absolutely go berserk. But that's not the case because I don't, I just want him.

*Friday Evening*

~Nikki's POV~

I could feel Vanity's eyes drilling holes into the back of my head as I checked my hair in the accent mirror we had on the living room wall. I smirked at myself before my eyes met hers, "Yes?"

I turned around to look at her, seeing her curled up on the couch with a blanket and Anarchy by her side, "Nothing, you look nice."

"You think so? Thanks Van." I smiled at her as she started glaring before turning her attention back to the tv, eyebrows pulled together tight and her jaw clenched, more than likely teeth grinding against teeth, "What's the problem princess?" I attempted to bite back a laugh as she ripped the blanket off of her and got up.

"What do you think the problem is, Nikki?" She questioned, as she rolled her eyes and walked to the kitchen.

"Uh...is Mother Nature visiting this week?" I smirked as I glanced over, seeing her at the island opening a bottle of wine.

"The therapist is stupid and you know it. What kind of sane therapist suggest to go see other people where one half of the couple is a cheater?  It's bull Nikki." She stated, stormy eyes staring deep as she brought the wine glass to her lips.

"To see if we should be together, Vanity. You heard her the other day. I think it's good for us ya know? We never have time away from one another and it's smothering-" I watched as her eyebrows raised, "T-that's not what I meant Van. That isn't-" I closed my eyes when she slammed the fridge door close.

"Ari, say bye to daddy." Van spoke softly as Arianna came bolting into the kitchen with Anarchy.

"I'll be back later sweet pea." I smiled as I picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "You be good and don't have too much fun without me."

Arianna pressed her little hands against my cheeks and smushed them together, "You have to be good too!" I chuckled and nodded, "Pinky!"

"Yes Arianna, I promise I'll be good if you'll be good. And if you are good, maybe we can take your bike out to the park and ride around a bit tomorrow. Sound like a deal?" I held my pinky out for her as she wrapped hers around mine.

"Deal!"

I smiled brightly, "That's my girl!" I gave her another quick kiss on the cheek before putting her down as she went over to the couch and stole Vans spot. I grabbed my jacket and went over to the table near the door to grab my keys and the flowers for Donna, "Hey, where's those sunflowers at?"

"They're in the dining room? You didn't have to get them for me but they are really pretty.." Van pointed as I glanced over at the dining table and seeing them arranged in a crystal vase.

"Uh-" I let out an awkward laugh, "Those were for Donna..."

I saw her expression change, the faint smile being replaced with a frown, "But they're sunflowers..."

I fidgeted with the key ring around my finger, "Donna likes them too...but uh, you can keep them. I can just stop at the store to get roses or something. I'm already running a bit late.." I mumbled, glancing down at my watch and then back at her, "So I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be here and I hope you have fun." Van spoke with a defeated sigh as she turned her back towards me. I watched for a moment as she went to go sit with Arianna and cuddle under the blanket. I shook it off before I walked out the front door.

*Nikki's Date*

What a fucking babe.

Nikki smirked, sauntering over to the table as he saw Donna, a tight red dress and sleek blonde hair resting on her shoulders in loose curls. She takes a sip out of a glass half full of club soda and a lime wedge. Her eyes light up when they find Nikki, "Hey! You look handsome!" Her voice was cheerful as she stood up and they gave one another a quick hug.

"Thank you, you look amazing. These are for you.." he holds out a bouquet of red roses, "I'm sorry if I'm a little late, traffic was kinda bad getting over here."  He sits down, declining when the waiter offers a glass of wine and opts for water instead.

"It's okay. I was enjoying the free bread. It's good." Donna chuckles nervously a bit, "I hope this is okay for you? I'm sure you're use to five star dining and what not."

Nikki brushes it off, "Oh, it's not a problem-" He smiles at her, "I actually take the family here a lot."

"Oh? Well I guess you should have picked then. That's so sweet of you to take Arianna to fancy places like this. She must be really well behaved."

Nikki nodded reaching for a bread roll out of the basket, "Yeah she is. Sometimes she’s a brat and has the temper of her mom and I. So...it's fun."

"But I bet it's fun to have a little break from watching her right? I know my friends and they sometimes have issues with the co-parenting." Donna expressed as her eyes stayed glued to the menu, searching for her dinner as dessert sat in front of her.

"Yeah, well...we live like roommates kinda and Arianna is like a mutual pet-" Nikki laughs, "But it works out fine at the end of the day."

"Oh! I didn't know you too lived with each other. I shouldn't have assumed but how you were explaining it...but it sounds like a good system you have."

Nikki cleared his throat and took a sip, thinking how he wants that glass of wine after all, "Yeah, sorry. I should have been more clear. I bought the house for Vanity years ago and it's in both of our names."

Donna smiled at him, "It's okay. Whatever is best for Arianna, right?"

"Exactly, how's Rhyan? Is he feeling better yet?" Nikki questioned. He was glad he found someone that had a kid and could understand the responsibilities that come with being a parent, that he could get advice from if he ever didn't know what to do.

"He's starting to. Took him to the urgent care the other day and they gave him some antibiotics. I hope by Monday he can go back to school, I don't want him to miss too much. But enough about the kids, how was your week?"

Nikki let out a long breath, "It was tiring, meetings and phone calls nonstop. The album comes out next month so now we're working on merchandising and how we want it to look. Tommy's...girlfriend is helping." He rolls his eyes and Donna laughs, "What?" He smiled.

"I can't wait to here it. I'm super excited from what you've been telling me. You made that last part sound like it's a nails on a chalk board for you. Not a fan of her?" Donna questioned as she leaned closer a bit.

"It's definitely different. Doesn't sound like the usual Mötley but that's a good thing." He looks at her, "She's just- we don't get along but she's Arianna's godmother so I have to play nice."

"You'll give me a signed copy right?" She jokes, "That's too bad, I bet it puts a rift between you and Tommy and Vanity."

He nodded, "Sometimes it does but she's pregnant now so she hasn't been that much of a bother." He smiles at her and gently reaches across to touch her hand "You'll get it hot off the press and signed by all of us, I promise."  Donna blushes a bit when he winks at her and she gives his hand a light squeeze.

They order dinner and some wine, chit chatting about anything and everything. Donna laughs at some of his corny jokes and Nikki's completely mesmerized by how down to earth she actually is despite being an actress and model. She enjoyed being outdoors and hiking, he could rarely get Vanity to break a sweat outside of the bedroom without complaining. She liked volunteering in her free time when she wasn't being super mom and a baywatch babe. Donna was impressed with how many articulate thoughts and ideas Nikki actually had. He wasn't like the dumb basketball stars or other musicians she had met. She swooned hearing him talk about his passions of music and song writing and even at the vulnerability about how his childhood wasn't so great and his sobriety.  She heard many, many stories about him and clearly most of that was just gossip she had figured.

After dinner, Nikki paid even though Donna argued that they could at least split it evenly, they were walking through a near by park before going their seperate ways. It was only a bit chilly as sparkling lights were wrapped around the stumps of oak trees and some light music was playing from a street performer. They both had small cups of hot chocolate in their hands as they walked side by side.

"Thank you for tonight Nikki and for the roses. I've had a lot of fun tonight. Who knew rockstars could be so chivalrous and kind?" Donna laughs a bit as she nudges his shoulder.

"Who knew actresses couldn't be snobs?" He let's his free hand brush against hers, "But you're welcome Donna, thank you for wanting to go out with me. I wanna do this again if you do?"

Donna nodded as they came back to the entrance as their cars were parked across the street, "I'd like to do this again too Nikki." She smiles up at him taking the extra step and holds his hand gently, feeling how warm his palm was and the roughness from playing his instrument.

"I'll call you okay?" Nikki smiled, gnawing on the inside of his cheek before leaning down and kissing her on the lips softly. He pulls away after a moment seeing her bright blue eyes shining and her cheeks a crimson shade, "Goodnight."

*Nikki's POV*

I sat in the car, a permanent smile on my face. I think that's one of the best dates I've ever been on. I got a whiff of Donnas perfume on my jacket, it smelt like tulips and fresh linen. I sighed deeply before getting out of the car and locking up. I headed to the front door and walked in, being met by loud music and Arianna yelling.

What. The. Fuck.

I walked into the living room seeing Arianna jumping up and down and attempting to sing along to a Backstreet Boy music video, "Arianna? What the hell are you doing up? You're suppose to be in bed." I grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned it off "Van!?!" I flipped open the pizza box, seeing a few remnants of left over crust and a carton of melted ice cream as well.

"Daddy! I missed you! Ca-can you spin me around!? Please?!" Arianna was jittery beyond belief as I then saw two empty cans of Mountain Dew on the living room floor.

"No, Arianna it's time for bed. It was time for bed-" I looked at the clock "-three hours ago." I quickly picked her up as I turned around to see Vanity, my eyes narrowing at that arrogant smirk she had plastered on her lips.

"What the hell Vanity? It's almost midnight and she's doped up on sugar." I glared at her as I started taking her upstairs to her room.

"Well, we were having fun and we lost track of time. It's the weekend Nikki, she's fine. Can you relax? She’s stayed up later than this before." I rolled my eyes as Arianna nodded at me.

I sighed, "Fine, at least you had fun. Did you save me ice cream?" I asked Ari as I took her to the bathroom and started wiping dried chocolate and Cheeto dust from her lips and cheek.

"Mommy and I ate it! She said you had dessert and wouldn't want any!" Arianna giggled like a maniac, "I'm not sleepy." I watched as she rubbed her eyes.

"Something tells me otherwise. Come on. Let's go get PJs on." I helped her down as we walked to her bedroom, "Any cookies left at least? You know daddy has a sweet tooth."

"Mommy ate the last of them. She wouldn't share with me."  Ari mumbled as she got in bed and grabbed her stuffed monkey. Anarchy then jumped on her bed and laid by her feet. I smiled at her and patted her head, "And Ana had cookies too. Her poop was funny!"

I hushed her, "Okay, okay. It's time for bed. I love you." I kissed the top of her head, "Sweet dreams  princess." She told me goodnight as I left her bedroom quietly closing her door shut. I headed downstairs seeing Van cleaning up the mess, "What the fuck, Vanity?"

She looked at me, "Huh?"

"Huh?" I copied as I rolled my eyes "Don't act fucking stupid. She never eats this much junk food so what gives? Is this because I went on a date?" I questioned as she laughed and tossed the garbage in the trash.

"Oh please-" she rolled her eyes at me, "We eat healthy all week Nikki so why not splurge on junk food?" She questioned as she fixed the decorative pillows and folded the blanket before draping it over the back of the couch.

"And you ate all of it? Aren't you trying to diet?" I questioned as I saw an eyebrow raise in surprise.

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm not playboy bunny skinny or baywatch actress skinny." She glares at me, "...and it's a high calorie diet!"

I scoffed, "Unbelievable...I fucking knew it. At least I can give a decent god damn time!"

"You just made a subtle comment about my weight so of course I'm gonna be upset! And good, I'm glad you had a wonderful time."

I laughed as I knew she was lying straight through her teeth, "Yeah, I'm sure you're really glad Vanity."

Van shrugged, "No, really Nikki. I'm happy you had a good time with her. Me and Arianna had a good time too. We painted our toes and took Anarchy for a walk. Oh! And we made the living room into a fort."

I exhaled slowly as I sat down on the couch, I glanced at her seeing her smile as she played her facade well, "Fine, I'm glad you and Ari had a good time too."

"So...where'd you guys go?" Van questioned as I looked at her, "C'mon tell me. I asked so I want to know." She says down beside me, resting her elbow against the back of the couch and putting her chin in her palm.

"Well...we went to that restaurant we always go to with Ari...the one down by the pier.." I glanced over at her, eyes narrowing as she nodded, "And then we went for a walk at that park with the duck pond."

"Sounds like fun. What did you two talk about?"

I laughed, "Vanity, relax. We just talked about normal first date topics but it was nice going there and not having to beg someone to eat something."

"What do you mean? Arianna has a good appetite. A lot better than most six year olds." Vanity stated as she flipped on the tv and searched for something to watch.

"Not the kid I gotta force to eat something other than chicken strips and fries."

"Why are you trying to start shit right now?" Vanity side eyed me, the jaw muscle twitching as she scooted away from me.

"I'm not trying to start anything princess. It was just nice to not a waste a breath on deaf ears." I chuckled a bit as I kicked off my boots and perched my feet up on the coffee table.

"It's cause you take us there all the time." She mumbled, "We never go anywhere else. I've already tried almost everything on the menu."

"That's not true. We went somewhere new a few weeks ago and you still ordered a damn chicken strip basket. Why can't you just eat like an adult?"

"Jesus Christ Nikki, I'm not gonna argue about my eating habits because it's pointless." I stared as she stood up and tossed the remote near me, "I don't want you to see her again."

I looked past her and kept my eyes glued on the TV, "We decided to try it and take the therapists advice, Van."

"No, you decided it for us. I didn't have a say in that conversation Nikki." Van spoke quietly, but I knew how upset she was getting by the way her voice trembled.

"...And I said, in front of you, I would be up for trying. Because what if-Van what if we're not meant to be like we think we are?" I looked at her, sighing and leaning my head back against the couch as I saw tears in her eyes.

"How can you even say that-"

"Because look at us Vanity!! Look at how much fighting we've been doing! All the snide comments and glares! We're just fucking hurting one another!"

I closed my eyes, hearing her sniffle a bit "If this was gonna be the end result then what was the point of New York and begging me to come home? I coulda just stayed there. I didn't want to come back home  just to see you going out with someone else. I don't want to do this Nikki. I don't want anyone else."

Van wiped her eyes when I looked at her, her eyes an almost honey color as they always were whenever she cried, "You really don't want anyone else? Or to even attempt to see someone?" I smiled just a little when she shook her head.

"No, Nik. I don't want anyone else. I just want you." She shook her head in frustration and looked at me, "But do you? Do you want me? Can you picture your future with out me?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Of course I couldn't see a future without her. The idea of her not in it scared the fuck out of me. She's my whole life, world and everything in between. No one else could ever deal or stick around with me like the way she could. But at the same time, is our future just going to be fighting to the point where we don't even love each other anymore? That we just stick together for Arianna? That we begin to resent and hate one another?

"Just...whatever Nikki." Van frowned and wiped her cheek when I took to long to give her an answer, "Goodnight and I'm glad you had a good time with her. I'm sorry you had to come home to a mess." She mumbled, her tone riddled with disappointment and hurt as she wrapped herself in a hug and turned her back towards me. I watched her as she went all the way up the stairs before turning around the corner.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

So I adore your character Frank. I mean Adore him with a capital A. I started reading your fics when I was like 13 or something and now I am 21 years old.

I re-read your fics for nostalgia's sake a few days ago and. . . I have to tell you that I think Frank was and is one of the most influential characters in my life.

I know he isn't a huge character, but Frank just set up my type of favorite character going forwards in life. Due to this fic, I have always gravitated to 'whipped' characters, to character whom really should be terror in and of themselves but have been rendered harmless towards or for a singlar person.

I might have any ways, but I KNOW Frank at least cemented this in me. He just. . . Has intrinsically interwoven himself into my psychic.

I have named my ocs after him, basied characters off of him, compared all my favorite characters to him. Hell. My girlfriend wanted to talk about baby names, and I suggested Frank in at least partially love for this character (It is also a family name, But your fic sweetened it additionally)

I mean this, completely truthfuly, that your oc Frank has been my favorite fictional character for many years. I hunger for Frank content like a starving man hungers for a bit of roast beef.

I love your other characters too.

Lilly? Superb.

Rabbit? Fancy.

Lenin and the many Toms? Thats what I'm talking about.

But Frank? Frank to me is special.

So. . . I was wondering if you could tell us a little more about Frank? In anyway I mean. Or perhaps not at all. Whatever you think is most appropriate.

Frank?

You’re not alone, I’ve gotten a lot of people who really like Frank and definitely wish he wasn’t such a minor character. That said, if Rabbit wasn’t my answer to South Park’s Towley then I feel like Frank would be. He’s great and all but he’s just... well, he’s not a main character.

But I have to say I’m very flattered by, well, all of this. First that you’ve stuck around for seven years (Jesus I’ve been here too long), that you reread my stuff, and that Frank has had such an influence in your life.

And with a plea like that I really can’t say no, can I?

So, first off, I’ve mentioned this off and on but I am writing an original fiction version of “Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus” and yes I know I’ve been saying it for years but I really am almost done with what will be the first novel at this point. With that, Frank is a much larger character in that story than the original fic, still secondary but an important secondary character. So, it’s a little weird for me to go back and talk about the fic version. But given I’d have to get into the whole world building of that we’re just going to go ahead and ignore that. Just dropping this that, if all goes well, we do get more Frank than usual.

As for Frank himself from the fic... Well, the thing is we don’t really know too much about HP vampires except that they’re kind of a joke and taken less seriously than even werewolves. I don’t think they have any magic in and of themselves (maybe weird vampire magic that doesn’t really stand up to a wizard with a wand) and are probably about the strength of Buffy vampires. They kind of got the short end of the stick. I imagine they’re all desperately poor, living off blood pops, and just passed out in Knockturn Alley or running around eating pedestrians in Albania. And this is pretty much Frank’s existence before Lily says, “I want to be a drug dealer! Help me vampire man!”

For Frank himself, a lot of what I’ve wanted to say about him can be found in the various side fics. “Lily and the Narcotics Emporium” from way back in the day has pretty much all my world building on him.

He’s not all that old really, I think I dated him around the 1800′s, and is desperately poor. He’s basically a starving, drugged out, mess in the 1940′s when Lily finds him in the literal gutter. As a result, Lily Riddle is the light of his life, she pulls him out of the pit of depression and poverty and gives him not only purpose but hope for his people’s future. He poisons and kills wizards all day, it’s great! This is how he kind of ends up in his yes-man/whipped position. I mean, Lily is also terrifying so that certainly helps, but it’s mostly fueled by this weird devotion/unending gratitude that Lily doesn’t know what to do with.

Further, Riddle Inc. is really Frank’s show. Lily has some ideas but it’s mostly him that does all the work and certainly keeps it going for DECADES in her absence. Which really makes it clear that he could have done all this by himself, pretty much any time he wanted, but he’ll never actually figure that out because Lily Riddle is great and would she like coffee today. So, Frank really should be the head of it himself, but he insists to everyone without directly saying it that he’s just the secretary. And everyone believes because, my god, does he act like it.

And I think my favorite part of Lily and Frank interacting is that Lily also has no idea what to do with all of this or why they’re even like this. Lily has no idea how important she is to Frank and just how much she changed his life. She’s starting to get an idea that drugs are bad and maybe she was a terrible influence on the wizarding world for half a century, but she really doesn’t understand just why Frank is her secretary. So every now and then he drops some “we are eternally grateful” type line and she sort of just stares because from her perspective he’s just always been around and of course she found him in the gutter. Where else would one pick up a Frank? That was very convenient.

That’s about all I’ve got off the top of my head. Anything anyone want to ask specifically about Frank? 

[arc852]

The Dime Project

 Summary: Virgil, the lead scientist on Project Dime, finally gets to test the device. And what better way to test it, then to bring something...small, over.

 Warnings: Referring to a person as an it, fear, panic, and kidnapping.

 Word Count: 1035

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 “Have you ever heard of the borrowers?” 

 Virgil blinked, not expecting the question. Especially since he had literally just arrived to work. The actual question itself was also strange. Why would Virgil’s fellow scientist be asking something like that?

 Although, this was Roman he was talking about.

 “Uh, yeah. It’s that book about the little people who live in walls and take things from humans, right?” Virgil answered as he walked past his coworker and headed towards the labs. Roman was right behind him.

 “Bingo!” He exclaimed with a smile.

 Virgil set his stuff down in his locker, looking over to Roman and raising an eyebrow. “And...why did you feel the need to ask me about a book from the 50s?”

 “Because emo nightmare!” Roman slung an arm around Virgil’s shoulders, ignoring the glare he was receiving. “We’ve made a breakthrough on project Dime!”

 Virgil had just pushed Roman’s arm off of him when Roman exclaimed the news and his eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”

 Roman laughed and grabbed Virgil’s hand as he led him through the labs. “Yes! Now come on! We’ve been waiting on you before we test it!”

 Virgil allowed himself to be dragged into the Dime Project lab. When they arrived, he noticed the large ray pushed slightly into the corner, with a smaller one now taking up the center of the room, covered by glass and pointed down at the table. Roman finally let go of Virgil’s hand and ran over to grab the tablet, handing it to Virgil.

 “What’s with the scale model?” Virgil asked as he took the tablet, quickly scanning the information on the screen.

 “It’s how we’ve decided to test it. We made a smaller version to try and pull something smaller over.” Roman paused for a moment. “And to make less of a mess if it fails.” Virgil hummed, agreeing with that.

 His eyes continued to scan the documents. “So...you want to try and bring over a borrower? Why?”

 Roman grinned. “It was my idea of course and because of several reasons. First of all, borrowers are small enough for our test. And we have a clear image of them because they exist in fictional form in our dimension. And they’re completely harmless. If we tried with any animal or other mythical creature we could run into some trouble. But a borrower is just a human but small.” Roman explained. Virgil nodded, following along.

 “And borrowers can talk, so they could give us information about the dimension they came from.” Virgil added on.

 Roman grinned. “Exactly!”

 Virgil put the tablet down, heading over to the machine. He nodded in greeting to the other couple of scientists surrounding the main system. “So, we’re all prepared to test this thing?”

 Roman came up beside him. “Just about. We just gotta hook onto a signal and then we’re golden!”

 As if on cue, one of the other scientists exclaimed. “We found it!” Roman and Virgil went over to the monitor, seeing the spike of activity.

 “Perfect! Then we are ready!” He turned to Virgil, motioning with his hands. “On your command, Dr. Lead scientist.” He teased. Virgil rolled his eyes but smiled. This was it, their big moment.

 “Goggles on.” Everyone followed his lead, placing the goggles over their eyes and lowering the glass down so the laser was contained to a small square. “Alright...start it up!”

 Buttons were pressed and a whirring sound indicated that the machine had started. It got louder and louder, the laser building up with energy and light before suddenly shooting down. It got so bright, that even with their goggles on, the scientists had to turn their heads. Only allowing themselves to look again when the light died down.

 Virgil’s eyes widened as he pulled his goggles slowly off his face. Kneeling on the once empty table, was a small humanoid figure.

 “It worked.” Virgil whispered, shocked. 

 “Amazing.” He heard Roman mutter next to him.

 As he continued to watch the figure, the borrower, it seemed to finally gain its bearing and take notice of where it was. Its eyes widened and as it connected eyes with Virgil, it became panicked. Virgil bit his lip, his heart going out to the little guy. But still, they weren’t here to hurt him. The little borrower would be fine.

 “I’m marking this down as a giant success!” Roman exclaimed as he grabbed the tablet once again, furiously writing down more information. “At this rate we’ll have portable Dimension Watches in no time!”

 Virgil chuckled, turning away from the borrower. “Easy Princey. We still have a long way to go before that sci-fi fantasy becomes real.” He turned back to the borrower. “But we are one step closer.” Virgil noticed the borrower seemed to be having trouble breathing and decided that was enough standing around. 

 “Roman, I gotta look some more things over but we need to move the borrower. Can you take it to Logan to prepare while I finish up here?” Virgil asked.

 Roman grinned. “Of course! It would be my pleasure!” Roman, of course, was excited to see the little thing up close. 

 “Great.” Virgil took the tablet from him. “I’ll try to be quick. Make sure you fill Logan in and try not to traumatize the borrower any further.”

 “I’ll try my best.” Roman said, knowing that was much easier said than done. Roman came over to the table, picking up the glass case with the borrower inside. “Come along little borrower, you’ve got an appointment with Dr. Logan!”

 Virgil watched the two leave, not missing the terror on the little borrowers face at Roman’s words and proximity. He did feel bad. After all, the little borrower got pulled from his home so suddenly, with giant strangers no less. Also, Virgil was pretty sure the borrowers whole thing was that humans weren’t supposed to know they existed, which kind of made this all worse.

 Virgil did feel bad but hopefully after some explanations the borrower would understand he was in no danger here. And Logan and Roman could take care of that, right?

 Right?

 Virgil paused for a moment.

 Okay, maybe he should work a little faster.

[smugbugunderarug]

Smug Bug Reads: Fleetway’s Sonic the Comic #13

         Double Trouble introduces yet another villainous look-alike for Sonic... however, instead of originating from an opposite yet parallel dimension or from the lab of Dr. Robotnik, he comes from a power up most would expect to aid you instead of have a grudge against you...

         Script: Mark Millar          Art: Mike Hadley          Lettering: Ellie de Ville

         The first panel shows Tails losing his football (or his soccer ball, Americans) in a cluster of bushes whilst playing around in Emerald Hill. While rummaging about the foliage, he comes across what most fans that have played Sonic the Hedgehog can easily recognize -

         - one of these things. You’ve seen this before, right? An extra life tv box, a one-up, whatever you wanna call it. These are good things. Grab them when you can. They come in handy.          Now what Tails found doesn’t look quite as harmless.

         Granted, compared to Shadow or Metal Sonic, this “Sonic” does look a bit like the real deal (at this first glance close-up, anyways). He gives this story to Tails about how Robotnik trapped him in the T.V. box (later we find that that’s not entirely false) and that he had to press the button in order to get him out. Tails, completely falling for it, does as he says. The button is pressed, and “Extra Life” is free.

         I’m going to be honest, when I first saw this dude’s design, I thought of the werehog mixed with Classic Sonic. I still see it!          The shredded looking ears, particularly prickly spikes, harshly angled nose, sharp gaze, and spiked teeth are the details that separate this fake from the hero (at first, I thought he looked greyer than Sonic did, but later on when the two share a panel, both share the same blue). Tails is knocked out, and Extra Life is free to cause havoc.

         Close by, critters from the resistance are building a hideout in Emerald Hill that could hopefully keep them safe from Robotnik. It’s good to see them finally take some action in a sense; they havent done much except follow Sonic around, be saved by him, or be held captive by Robotnik and his creations. Now (or in this issue anyway) they’re actively helping out the... well, I guess you could call it the war effort. It’s good to see that!          But anyways, guess who’s headed their way...          Extra Life sees the group with their unfinished hideout and doesn’t hesitate to undo almost all their labor (while hurting and endangering a lot of them in the process).

         I really gotta wonder how fast one has to go in order to set fire to the forest. Like... dang. Well, it’s clear now that Extra Life can rival Sonic’s speed, so it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to say that they’re equal in ability.          The critters believe that Sonic was the one who torched their hard work, and frankly, that wouldn’t be a bad assumption for them to make based off of appearances alone (however, by now they should know that although Sonic can be a jerk, he’s not villainous in behavior). Since Extra Life was practically speeding through the destruction, chances are none of them got a good look at him. A blue blur alone must have been enough to pin the blame on the hedgehog... but not the one they originally assumed.

        Although much damage is done, the real Sonic steps in to combat the fake. Since Sonic had the element of surprise, he found himself with the upper hand against Extra Life, and managed to send him flying out of sight... but then, the critters arrive.

        Sonic tries to explain that he wasn’t the one who trashed their efforts, but they deem him too dangerous and want him banished. I think maybe that was perhaps a bit too much and a bit too fast to do, especially after knowing what Sonic is really like (even with the more often than not sour attitude).          Anyways, unintentionally proving Sonic’s claim, Extra Life jumps back into their fight. The critters now realize he was telling the truth after narrowly dodging the storming fake.

         In the distance, Tails finally wakes up from being knocked out by Extra Life, and sees the terror going on further off. Picking up the T.V., he makes his way towards the scene...          Meanwhile, Extra Life seems to be winning against his brawl with Sonic,,,

         If Extra Life doesn’t fair well with a surprise attack, it would make sense that Sonic wouldn’t either.          We do have an origin story for Extra Life, anyway, so that’s neat. It really makes me wonder how long ago the doc turned evil if Extra Life was stuck there for years... So he was probably created some time after Sonic got his super speed, but before the incident happened with Kintobor, but that’s not really a time span that’s been explained in detail just yet. So yeah, really gotta wonder how long he was stuck in there for...          Another thing... how would the box work? Or rather, how was it intended to work? Was he really supposed to be just a “helping hand”? Not something that could revive Sonic if he died or was on the brink of death? Or maybe a more morbid idea; a replacement if the real Sonic truly died??? How does he know about all these things that happened anyways? He knew about Tails towards the beginning of the issue, and he knew about Kintobor going bad... he couldn’t escape his confines, and assuming they’re following game cannon at the time he should have been created before Sonic 1, so how’d he know about these things?          Well, it doesn’t really matter anyway since Tails comes in to set things right and save Sonic... wait... did I read that right? Yes! It’s time for Tails to save the day (woot woot)! He doesn’t do much, but not much needs to be done. All he needs to do is point the telly to the fake, press the button, and presto! The doppelganger is back in his digital cage.

         is this a jojo reference? Well, that’s the end of that. I doubt we will see Extra Life again since he was booted to the cosmos, but after all the trouble he caused, I don’t think they much care. After that, the critters apologize to Sonic for accusing him so quickly, and then the issue ends right there with all of them staring into the sky above.

         I can’t help but feel just a bit bad for Extra Life. The dude was created and (appears to be) sentient, but was kept trapped in a box against his will for years. He probably grew bitter over all that time. It’s not entirely explained why he turned bad since he was created with good intentions, but being abandoned for so long... probably was a main reason why. While this serves as an explanation for all the ruckus he caused, it’s still not an excuse. I guess banishment a la space is what was in store for him, but still... can’t help but feel bad...

         TL;DR: don’t do 1-ups, kids.

[skywillsometimeswrite]

Why?

So I got really inspired by @target-block ‘s Evil!Impulse and Evil!Stress AU and so I decided let’s throw a hastily written fic at them

(I have barely watched Impulse, and I haven’t seen much of Stress, so literally it’s all spitballing but they’re evil so its fiiiiine)

Read it on AO3

“Why, Impulse? Why are you doing this?”

Impulse glanced over his shoulder at his old friends, Bdubs physically holding Tango back. If Bdubs even loosened his grip Tango would most definitely charge right at Impulse. He wonders if his old friend would hit him. He was never the particularly violent type, so maybe he would try and talk him out of the high that he was currently riding from his carnage spree. Would he hug him and try and use some heartfelt words to sway him back over to being his old self? The thought amused Impulse, making his smile grow to show his teeth off.

He laughed, loud and hearty, just like he used to at Zedaph’s more ridiculous ideas, or when Bdubs would get himself blown up. He caught a glimpse of Tango’s confused expression shifting into one of betrayal before he looked out on the damage that he had caused.

He breathed in the tell tale smell of wither roses, relishing in his handiwork as ghasts, blazes, and even a few withers flew around the shopping district. The roses had a distinct smell, one that mingled quite well with smoke, nether wart, and spider eyes as he had learned when concocting this most magnificent scheme with his two partners in crime. That beautiful symphony of smells now hung over the shopping district, the once green grass Scar placed now brown and dead or black with the wither effect seeping into its roots. Impulse thought it was quite the improvement. The place had gotten to be a bit too colorful for his liking.

“Why?” He echoes back to Tango, spinning on his heel. He held a wither rose in his calloused hand that had become immune to the wither effect the plant held. His fingertips were stained black and faded as they went down. He had lost full feeling in them ages ago, but that never hindered him. If anything, it helped since he didn’t have to worry as much about his own weapons and traps hurting him when he set them up. Not to mention facing down wither skeletons in the nether had become nothing but a simple chore. “You want to know why?”

“Yes! Why would you betray us like this? What have we ever done to you?” Bdubs’ voice grated against Impulse’s ear drums and he couldn’t help how he nearly crushed the precious flower in his fist.

Impulse walked towards his previous coworkers, circling them on top of Scar’s magnificent  Scara Junior. Impulse picked the black petals off of the rose, letting them flutter down onto the organic material of the stem, and lazily watched as they formed a circle of decay around his enemies. Ordinarily, just the petals wouldn’t do much, but the stem soaked up all of the withering effect that it could. It quickly spread to the point underneath Tango and Bdubs, and despite how the two tried, they were never particularly strong: in will or in body. Their coughs and groans as their beings filled with unwavering pain was music to Impulse’s ears, even more so as he felt the familiar feeling creep up his own legs and reinvigorate him. 

“What have you ever done to me?” Impulse’s voice raised, incredulous, before it fell again, black particles falling from his mouth as the withering effect spread within his body. “Are you serious? The better question is what haven’t you done to me?

All you guys have ever done is use me. I finish one job, and you guys want something bigger. And every time I’m lucky if I get even a little bit of gratitude. I help you with your games, I help you with your projects, I help you with your farms, I give you resources, I design new machines and what do I get in return? A ‘thanks’ and a guarantee that you’ll come back to me when you need something else.”

He kneeled in front of the two hermits, both of them holding their chests as the incredible, beautifully hideous wither spread through them, slowly draining away their life. That was probably one of Impulse’s favorite parts of using the petals over full flowers: it was a lot slower of a death.

He gently put one of his wither tainted fingers underneath Tango’s chin, lifting his head up so he could look into his pain filled red eyes. “Even you, Tango. The only reason I’m here is because you needed someone to do your work for you. I’m surprised you didn’t see this coming.”

Tango opened his mouth, a strangled sound escaping in what almost sounded like a word before it devolved into horrendous coughs that brought a smile to Impulse’s face. He dropped the other’s head, standing proudly over the men.

This was by far the best payment he could have asked for.

-----

“Stress, I don’t understand, why are you doing all this?”

Iskall was precariously balancing on the Logz blimp, his arms out as he tried to steady himself. This sight caused Stress to giggle, and Iskall’s disturbed expression at the almost normal sound was clear on his face. She knew, if it had been anyone else standing in front of him, he wouldn’t have hesitated to charge forward and impale them. But this was Stress in front of him, his best friend. He adored her, and she knew that very well. So of course she was going to use that to her advantage.

“You’re a smart guy, Iskall, I’m sure you can figure it out.” She said, catching how his eyes drifted out over the shopping district and to the roof of the Colored Complete shop. Now that she didn’t appreciate. She wasn’t harmless, perhaps she had to remind him of this.

She twirled a lingering potion in her hand, spinning it on her fingertip before gingerly tossing it at Iskall’s feet. It shattered, the sickly green liquid exploding all over the wood. The fumes quickly wafted up, causing Iskall to cover his mouth, but it was all too late. The poison spread through his body, making his vision sway and his stomach retch, Stress knew. She had tested it enough times to know the exact effects on a person, and she didn’t need a watch to know exactly when it would end.

“You should keep your eyes on me if you know what’s good for you, luv. I’m not some cute dainty flower, you know -- well, I am adorable, but that's not the point, now is it?”

Iskall was definitely one of the tougher hermits, she had to give him that. Most anyone else would be rendered incapacitated from her enhanced poison potions, but he managed to glare at her between wet coughs. He took a few steps towards her, out of the fading cloud of poisonous fumes, and took a deep breath of air. Not that it would help him much, considering the amount of smoke that lingered around them.

“Seriously, Stress, what is all this about? We’re friends aren’t we? What’s gotten into you?”

She rolled her eyes, groaning at such a typical Iskall response. Really, he couldn’t be more predictable could he? She pulled out a splash potion, watching the ink black liquid swirl around inside the fragile glass.

“You really think I’m so simple, do ya?” She took a step forward, watching Iskall take a step backwards from the corner of her eye. “Sure, we were friends, Iskall. But that got old real quick, it did. Y’see I got real tired of being this little do gooder that could do no wrong. The one everyone underestimated. I wanted to prove to all of you how easily you were to fool. How easily I could fool you.”

She grinned at Iskall’s wide eye and shaking legs as she took another step forward. “You’re all really stupid, you know that? None of you even thought to suspect us! And we weren’t barely subtle at all. Luckily for us, you lot were so happy to cling on to the idea of poor Falsie being behind all of our messes that you didn’t look any farther into it!”

She sighed, squishing her cheek with the palm of her hand as she thought about it. “I do feel a lil’ bad, you know. About Falsie. I honestly didn’t think you’d straight up ban her. Must’ve been pretty scary for her.”

“We thought-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you lot thought. That sweet ol’ Impy and I wouldn’t hurt a fly, right?” She tossed the potion at him, knowing that he was enshrouded in darkness. Even his mechanical eye couldn’t see past a blindness potion that she had made. She walked towards him, sliding her hand up his arm and getting right up close to him. She wished she could frame his look of terror when she whispered:

 “Do you still think that?”

-----

“Grian, mate, really you gotta explain this to me. All of this. I-I don’t get why you’re doing all this.”

Ariana rolled her eyes at Mumbo. “How many times do I have to tell all of you? I’m not Grian, I’m Ariana Griande. I swear, you all are terrible with names.” She tutted.

“Yeah, right, whatever your name is, you need to stop this. Please. Or- Or at least tell me why you’re doing this. We can figure this out, I’m sure.”

Araina’s heels clicked on the noteblocks she stood on, walking over them as she examined Mumbo carefully. She hummed every note that played with every footstep she took. Sure, maybe Etho’s work was more refined and practiced, but Ariana was known for her voice not her instrumental talent. And of course for her explosive and fiery personality. Why else would Stress and Impulse recruit her?

“I think the better question is why wouldn’t I be doing this?” She asked Mumbo as she hopped off the noteblocks and onto the white concrete that made up the roof of Colored Complete. It was more grey now from all the smoke, but she thought that it looked far prettier that way. Fire always gave things that extra spice they needed.

“What?”

“Oh, come on Mumbo. Are you telling me you’ve never wanted to create a little chaos before?”

He spluttered, looking at her as if she was crazy before gesturing to the currently crisping shopping district. “This- this isn’t just ‘a little chaos!’ Grian, if you think this is all some harmless prank you gotta snap out of it, man. This is way, way, way worse than anything else you’ve ever done.”

“Ariana.” She corrected him again before walking to stand next to him and survey her fine handiwork. She had to compliment Impulse, the nether mods definitely helped a lot with the fire bit. And the ghasts certainly helped in the blowy-uppy part. Of course, most of the larger destruction was her own direct doing and she was quite proud of it all, even if it had made her skirt flutter up a little bit. She could sacrifice a little modesty for the sake of her art.

“And Mumbo, my dear Mumbo, I don’t think this is some harmless prank or whatever. No, I think,” she threw her arm over his shoulder, the heels making the reach less awkward. She still had to pull the man down to her height, though. “I think this is art. Beautiful art.”

She let him go, happily skipping back over to her noteblocks and sitting down on one, crossing her legs as she smiled out over the marvelously demolished shopping district. Her smile grew as a blaze lit a lone piece of TNT, the explosion adding to the brilliant cacophony of sounds that were already in the air. The crackling of fire, the screeches of ghasts, the breathy roars of withers, and of course her favorite sound: the panicked screaming of the hermits as they scrambled to salvage as much as they could.

Really, did she even need to explain why she did all of this? Why they did all of this? It seemed pretty obvious to her.

“You see, Mumbo, it’s all about making a statement.”

[agent-cupcake]

for the yandere prompt list, what about 24 for claude????

24. “You’re calling me a monster? Who do you think made me this way?”

“Claude?” you asked, a last-ditch effort to catch his attention. You had hoped he’d notice when you entered the library. Or when you sat in the chair across from him. Or when you cleared your throat. But he hadn’t. He’d been preoccupied as of late, following a cycle you were more than familiar with. Usually, you hated it when he was so distracted, but this time had been different. In a way, you were angry that he’d given you so much time alone. If he hadn’t, perhaps you could still be blissfully unaware. Perhaps you wouldn’t be sitting across from him with rigid posture, your nails were bitten down into nubs and your eyes were burning from a lack of sleep.

Claude looked up to your call, his face still scrunched up in concentration. Recognition hit a second later, a smile growing from the purse of his lips. “Hello to you, too,” he said. Warm, friendly. Your stomach twisted. “Did you need something?” Claude asked. “Or, let me guess, you were lonely.”

You didn’t respond, which he presumptuously took as agreement.

“Maybe it’s time I gave it a break,” Claude said. “After all this boredom, I could use a pick-me-up.” With a dull thud, he closed the book, tossing it aside and only half stifling a huge yawn. Usually, Claude’s playful moods brightened your own, but now you couldn’t help but look for something beneath it. Something Dark. But all you saw was Claude. A bit tired from his endless study but no less warm and inviting than usual. It almost made you stop. You could stop, you didn’t need to do this.

But of course you did. “Actually, I wanted to talk,” you said.

Claude’s smile fell, replaced by an apprehensive expression. “Well that doesn’t bode well,” he said slowly. “Which is fine, of course. Go ahead.”

A breath left your lips, collapsing your chest before you inhaled anew. “Right, so,” you began, trying to think of the best way to phrase what you needed to say. Anxiety nibbled at your insides, although you didn’t like to think of why. Claude looked so harmless, lounging in a chair with far too many books than reasonable spread around him. The same Claude you’d always known, loved, and trusted. He wouldn’t hurt you. “What I wanted to ask. Or say, I guess. Is that I, um-”

You stumbled on the words. Claude was giving you his full attention, watching you curiously, cautiously. It made it all the harder. What were you even afraid of? That’d he be upset about your discovery of the dossier he’d compiled on you, information about your comings and goings, private things? You were the one who should have been upset. But the man in front of you with his lovely eyes and puzzled expression couldn’t be that bad. Not possibly. Because if he was, then this had been going on since the beginning of your relationship. Before that, even.  

“It’s something I found,” you finally managed to say. “I wasn’t going through your things to be nosy, I swear, I was just looking for the first few letters we exchanged. But your study is an absolute wreck and you were gone so I was going through the drawers and I-I found something else with my name on it.” You took a deep breath, daring to meet his eyes from under your lashes. “Claude, have you been spying on me?”

There was no grand shift of tension following your question, no dramatics. Instead, Claude donned an expression of comprehension, chin rising in a half-nod. “Ah, I was wondering when you... well, nevermind,” he said, clearing his throat. Rather than finish that thought, he quickly added, “This has really been eating at you, hasn’t it.” Not a question, a mere statement. 

“Of course it has,” you said, frowning at the condescension that he’d state the obvious so patiently and sympathetically. 

“I’m curious about why you didn’t ask me... before now, I mean. You weren’t scared of me, were you?” he asked, a joking tone creeping into his voice. “I would hope you know by now that I’m not some kind of monster who’s gonna fly off the handle or anything. Luckily, I got my mom’s looks, not her temper.”

“I know that,” you said, frustration growing. “That’s not why I didn’t bring it up. All of this... I didn’t want to.”

“I gathered as much,” Claude responded wryly. “Well, I’m happy that you were finally honest. Personally, I can’t stand to let my feelings simmer too long. It’s unhealthy.”

“I know,” you said. A moment later, you shook your head, frowning. Claude looked too innocent for you to tell if he was purposefully misdirecting. Although he looked too innocent for a lot of things. “That’s not the point,” you told him, forcing yourself to sound more authoritative. “Are you actually… Have you been watching me?”

“Sure,” Claude said, admitting to it without any hesitation. Your stomach dropped.

“And everything before? About me, my past. Before we even officially met, you were… Stalking me.”

“Stalking? That’s a bit harsh,” he said, face scrunched up in distaste for the word. “But I guess there was some light… Well, yeah. It was stalking.”

“You’re joking,” you said, almost able to convince that this was all some sort of prank. It was just too unreal, the unthinkable contrasted against the familiar setting of the library, coming from the mouth of someone you thought you knew. “Why?”

“I thought I made it pretty clear that I think you’re interesting,” Claude said, as if that was meant to explain it all away. “Besides, it wouldn’t look very good if you were getting yourself into trouble while I’m busy. Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“You make it sound like-like I’m a child,” you said, anger swirling in with the discomfort and making your words stutter. “Like I’m in need of constant supervision.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Claude said, meeting your heightening mood with his own casual tone. “I’ve never seen you as a child.”

Your face darkened, stomach clenching and skin crawling. Anger was hot, but your hands were shaking. When you spoke, you knew it was edging on being a whine, but you couldn’t help it. “Claude, this isn't funny. I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

Those words pulled you up completely short. He was being serious. Claude looked unaffected by the situation, by your mood and accusations. It made you dizzy, the feelings too intense to process all at once. Words collected themselves in your head to fight against the spiraling sickness of slipping control, angry words meant to sound sharp. “You said you’re not monster, but that was a lie, wasn’t it? Maybe you’re not the kind with big teeth and claws but-but you make a pretty good boogeyman.”

“You’re calling me a monster?” Claude asked without pause, one of his eyebrows half raised. He sounded so damned unconcerned, never taking anything as seriously as he should. Or maybe he was. Maybe that was what you saw gleaming in his eyes, what was so horribly wrong about the situation. Still reeling from your outburst, you said nothing, unsure of what the right answer could possibly be and jaw clenched tightly. Claude shrugged off your silence as easily as he did anything else. “Fair enough. Tell me this, then. Who do you think made me this way?”

And, just like that, he had turned your attempt at control against you. It took a few seconds for your brain to even catch up enough to comprehend what he was implying. Claude was blaming you. Blaming you, and all the while wearing looking utterly collected, his eyes dancing in the candlelight. You wanted to answer, you needed to. This was all types of twisted and wrong. A peculiar swirl of rage and terror had struck deep into your heart. But he was wrong. You needed to refute the ridiculous idea that his constricting hold on you was somehow on you, that it was something to be treated so lightly.

But you didn’t. Your mouth opened and shut and your breathing caught and went stale in your lungs.

And that was enough of an answer for Claude. You could see the crystallization of whatever conclusion he’d drawn from your silence by the shift of his smile. Gone was the strangely intimidating edge of before, replaced by a familiar breezy attitude. You wanted to contest this, too, to force him to confront the insanity of what he had just admitted to instead of normalizing it. You needed to push the issue if you had any hope of making it right.

But you didn’t.

“Nah, I’m just kidding,” Claude said, waving his hand as if to dispel the tension like it was nothing more than a bad smell. Then he stretched, yawned again. “Wow, I really am beat. Have you eaten yet? I wonder what the cooks are up to…”

“No, I haven’t,” you said belatedly, hollow words. Claude smiled and stood, holding a hand to you.

“Shall we?”

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 34: Jon

Sasha apparently has a particular New Year’s Eve tradition involving a karaoke club and far too much alcohol, and the Primes are understandably not enthusiastic about the whole concept, so in the end it’s just Jon and Martin and Tim who venture out to the celebrations. Martin manages to coax Charlie’s grandmother into allowing them to take him along, and they have a grand old time. Jon manages to actually get a decent picture at one point, and now his phone background is of Charlie perched on Martin’s shoulders, arms folded on top of his head, with Tim standing beside them, all three of them looking up at the sky with expressions of absolute delight and wonder. It makes him smile every time he looks at it.

Back in the Archives, they all buckle down to an individual project, in addition to their regular duties. Tim, of course, is still attempting to get a handle on his newfound ability to see the color of fears. It’s slow going, since Jon absolutely forbids him to practice in the Archives, or anywhere on Institute property, until he’s got a better handle on it; the sheer overwhelming presence of the Eye means he can’t look around without nearly passing out, so he finally agrees to hold off until he gets to a point where he can target it to a single person or object, or at least narrow down his field of vision. Jon Prime warns that that’s something that will only come with time, but Tim is determined. He at least makes some small progress.

Martin starts working on a cross-index of the statements they’ve studied—not just which ones relate, or seem to relate, to the same entities, but ones that have common names, locations, circumstances, or even dates. Honestly, it’s the sort of thing they should have been doing from the beginning; it’s just that Martin is the only one with any kind of library training, so he’s the only one who thought of it. And now that they know more about what’s going on, he has something to work with. Wisely, he saves it to a flash drive rather than on the Institute’s servers, so there’s no chance anyone outside the four of them or someone they approve to help out can use it.

Sasha focuses on the Institute, or more specifically on its Heads. While the four of them know that it’s actually been Jonah Magnus the entire time, or at least his eyes, she’s interested in the apparent successors—why they were chosen, how they were chosen, where they came from and what happened to them when Jonah Magnus was ready to move on, at least ostensibly. Jon cautions her to be careful, and she reassures him with a flurry of technical terms he loses track of halfway through, but there’s a crackle and pop of static that makes them both wince but leaves them with the Knowledge that she’s right. Her research is as secure as can be.

For his part, Jon digs into Gertrude.

He knows Jon Prime has some knowledge of her—of her travels, her past—but he wants to find out as much as he can on his own. Besides, he isn’t sure Jon Prime has the answers he’s looking for. Really, he’s not sure what answers he is looking for, but whatever it is, he’s going to do the research himself. It just feels like it’s cheating otherwise. So he tries to find out as much as he can about where she came from, how she came to the Institute, and what sort of things she might have been up to.

In doing his research, he comes across the startling information that Gertrude’s flat is still unlet. Apparently there were some legal complications due to the nature of her disappearance and death, and she was paid up for several months, so the agent simply never bothered to clean the place out. Something about this nags at him with a sense of wrongness, but—perhaps unwisely—he ignores it and keeps looking.

He tells his team that he plans to break into the flat. Tim and Martin both protest, and even he has to admit it’s not the world’s best idea, but he can’t think of any other way to gain access. Sasha rolls her eyes and tells him to give her twenty minutes.

Two hours later, he presents himself at the lending agent’s office as Gertrude Robinson’s grandson and asks, all innocence, what they’ve done with her things.

The agency is only too happy to let Jon clear the place out, even providing Jon with a couple of boxes in case he wants to take things with him. Jon’s not sure what he would want to take, but he accepts anyway. If nothing else, he can take it all and they can sort through it with the Primes’ help. The agent brings him up to Gertrude’s flat, lets him in, and tells him to just lock it behind him when he leaves, then wishes him luck and leaves him alone.

Jon gives the agent to the count of ten to get well away while he unwinds his scarf and unzips his jacket, then reaches into his inner pocket. Once upon a time it’s where he kept his cigarettes, but what he pulls out now is his new tape recorder. Not that he went out and bought one, of course, or that anyone on the team bought it—as far as he knows. They all came back from the holidays to find a neatly-wrapped package topped with a black-and-white striped bow on each of their desks; when they, with some trepidation, unwrapped them, they found separate and distinct tape recorders—a pretty clear sign, as Sasha says with what Jon considers unnecessary enthusiasm, that they’re all meant to be recording statements. And probably everything else they do. Since Elias doesn’t seem to know about them, they’re not using them for anything official, but Jon knows they’re all dictating their supplemental research onto them. He checks to make sure the tape is properly loaded, then thumbs the RECORD button.

“Right,” he says. “I’m standing in Gertrude Robinson’s flat. Former flat, I suppose I should say, but it hasn’t been relet and all her things are still here…such as they are. Thanks to Sasha, and some technical maneuvering I am not going to ask about on the grounds that she is an excellent and able assistant and I don’t want to have to visit her in prison, I was able to gain access by plausibly claiming to be her grandson. I’m here to look around and…hopefully get a better idea of her. So…let’s begin.”

He keeps up a running commentary as he searches the apartment. Gertrude’s life was an austere one; the kitchen contains nothing but a collection of teabags, a pot, a kettle, and a single mug. Jon goes ahead and packs it all into a box, especially the tea, which is Martin’s preferred variety. The bed is neatly made, as if she expected to be back soon—which, well, of course she must have—and she has no more than a dozen different outfits. Three suits—two skirt, one pant—and a red silk chiffon evening gown of a style popular in the 1970s hang in the closet, along with two pairs of sensible brogues and a pair of pointy-toed high heels; the drawers contain a few pullovers and a couple pairs of more casual slacks, beyond the usual assortment of undergarments.

The bookshelf draws his attention. It’s a single shelf, filled with books, but there are no others in the apartment. Quickly, he scans the spines, narrating a few of the titles into his recorder, before stopping and sighing.

“It’s…it seems to be mostly nonfiction,” he says. “Some fiction, but most of these appear to be books on history. I don’t have time to go through them all here, so I’m going to do the next best thing. The agent did tell me to pack up and take what I wanted and they’ll throw away the rest. There might be something useful in here. And if all else fails, we’ll have some new books to read, I suppose.”

His first box is relatively full, so he sets up a second box and begins layering the books in it, muttering to himself as he does so. “I have no idea if all of these will fit in this box or not, but we’ll see what we can do. For that matter, I don’t know if I’m even going to be able to pick it up myself. And if I have to carry more—”

The lightbulb goes out overhead with a faint, metallic pop.

Jon blinks the spangles away from his retinas and glances up with an exasperated sigh. It was late in the afternoon when he arrived here, and the sun has set by now, so with Gertrude’s unexpectedly thick, dark curtains drawn, there’s no light coming from outside. The ceiling light is too high for Jon to reach; he has a brief moment of wishing Martin was there, or Tim, before heaving himself to his feet with a sigh. He gives his eyes a second to adjust, then makes his way carefully towards the end table with its small china lamp. It’s not optimal, but it will at least give him enough light to see.

“You don’t want to do that,” a sing-song voice says from behind him.

Jon nearly leaps out of his skin. Footsteps sound behind him—sharp and crisp and ominous—and he turns around to make out a tall, slim shadow moving towards him.

“I mean,” the same voice continues, “you can if you really want to, but you’re not going to like it. Sometimes not being able to see is a good thing.”

“Wh-who are you?” Jon stammers out. He tries to tell himself that it’s simply one of Gertrude’s neighbors, that this is perfectly harmless, but he doesn’t believe it. The last eight months have knocked most of his capacity for deliberate self-delusion right out of him.

He can’t actually see the grin in the darkness, but he can hear it. “Well, my father named me Nikola, and then I killed him, so I thought I rather deserved to have his second name, too. Which makes me Nikola Orsinov. Pleased to meet you at last.”

Jon now wishes Tim or Martin were here for a completely different reason. He swallows hard. “Y-you, ah—you killed Gregor Orsinov?”

“Yep!” Nikola Orsinov says brightly. “He was really boring, and I’m a monster. What did you want me to do—not pull him to pieces? I did use all the bits.”

Jon can feel the bile rising in his throat and mingling with the terror, threatening to choke him. “How—how did you get in here?”

“I followed you, silly! You didn’t even lock the door.” There’s a slight creaking noise as the shadowy figure shakes its head. “Gertrude would be so disappointed in you. You let me into her house!”

“There’s nothing here,” Jon says. He fervently hopes that’s true. “N-nothing important…”

“Oh, I don’t believe that. And neither do you, or you wouldn’t be here! That nasty old Eye wouldn’t have told you to come if there wasn’t a reason.”

Jon wonders if it was actually the Eye’s idea that he come here, or if it was his own idea, or a conflation of the two. He also wonders if anyone will hear him if he screams, if he can make it past Orsinov to the door or if he’ll need to use the window, and if he’ll manage to survive if he passes out. Irrationally, on top of all of this, he finds himself trying to remember the name of that girl in his Intro to Drama class with the gift for fainting on cue without hurting herself. Slowly, he reaches for the lamp.

“Don’t turn that on,” Orsinov orders, somehow managing to sound sharp and intimidating while at the same time never losing the high, lilting, almost childish sweetness to her voice.

Jon freezes. The name Ellie Hall slams into the front of his brain and he desperately tries to clear it away. He refuses to let his last thoughts be ones of regret, refuses to wonder if he’d still be trapped in a dark flat with a manifestation of the fear of the unknown if he’d stayed on the theatre track, certainly refuses to waste any more brainpower on the stereotypical prima donna who’d been the reason he switched his degree path in the first place. Think, he tells himself. He needs to pull up something to give him strength, or at least the courage to face his doom.

His hand falls away from the lamp and hits his pocket; his fingers trace the outline of his phone through the fabric. He thinks of the picture on the background—of Martin and Tim with Charlie, watching the fireworks display. The people he cares about are waiting for him to come home. Whether they need him or not is immaterial. They’re waiting for him and he can’t let them down.

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail.

“Are you here to kill me?” he asks, and he manages to ask it without his voice shaking. Small victory, but he’ll take it.

“No!” Orsinov says, sounding absolutely aghast. Jon relaxes, marginally, until she adds after a moment’s thought, “Well, yes, but not now. That would spoil everything. It would be a shame for you to go to waste.”

Unbidden, Jon wonders how, exactly, she used all of Gregor Orsinov’s “bits” and what she plans to use his for. He really and truly does not want to think about it, but he can’t seem to stop. He decides to put the blame for that on the entity of fearful and forbidden knowledge looming over his shoulder. “Wh-why are you here then?”

“I’ve heard so many interesting things about you, Archivist. I decided it was finally time for us to have a good old chat,” Orsinov says. “Face to no face! Eye to…well.”

Face to no face. Okay. Jon is definitely not turning on the light now. “What have you heard?”

“Well!” Orsinov says with relish. “First my friends came to make a delivery for you, and they said you called on all sorts of nasty powers to send them away. That wasn’t very nice, Archivist. It’s rude to chase away your guests.” She gives a delighted little laugh—not a giggle, not like Michael’s, but unnerving in its own way. “And then it turns out we have a friend in common! Isn’t that nice? Only he’s very sneaky. He came to visit Daniel and Sarah, and they thought he was coming to join us in our dance, but then he was…unmasked. He ran away! So very rude.” She sighs. “But then, what do you expect from the Eye? No manners.”

Tim. Oh, God, she knows Tim was at the Trophy Room, of course she does. And if Breekon and Hope are her “friends”, then she knows about Martin and Sasha, too. Jon’s terror compounds. “Leave them alone.”

“Oh, I’m not interested in them. Maybe. Or maybe it’s all of you! But if you can do it by yourself, that would be fine, I’m sure.”

Jon takes a deep breath and squeezes his phone—for luck or comfort, he’s not sure which. “What do you want from me, then?”

“I want you to find that old skin for me,” Orsinov says cheerily.

“The sk—the gorilla skin?” It’s the only thing Jon can think of—the gorilla skin missing from the Trophy Room when Tim went to investigate.

“Mm-hmm! We thought nasty old Gertrude had destroyed it, but your friend came asking so many nosy questions, so now we think maybe she was just very good at hiding,” Orsinov told him.

“I’m sorry, you want me to find it for you?” Jon’s tongue seems to have become temporarily disconnected from his brain, because he cannot seriously be talking like this to something that has already made no bones about telling him it tore its creator to pieces.

“That would be lovely. And a lot nicer for you than our other ideas.”

The idea that Gertrude might have stolen a skin from the Trophy Room never occurred to Jon, but now that he thinks about it, it makes sense. He’s beginning to realize that she likely did read all of the statements, at least all the real ones; if he and his team can sense a true statement, surely she could, after forty years. She kept the Archives in disarray in hopes of slowing down Jonah’s plan, but he realizes she had to have read the statements to know they needed to be misfiled, and oh, God, why is he thinking about this now instead of getting out of this alive?

Because, a small voice in the back of his head says, if Gertrude stole the skin, it must be important to the Stranger.

“Wh-why—why do you want it?” Jon stammers out.

Orsinov’s hands clap together twice with a disturbingly hollow, plastic sound, and Jon can’t explain why that’s somehow more terrifying than his initial thought that she was an animated piece of taxidermy like Rawlings and Sarah Baldwin. In a voice of childish glee, she says, “I want to wear it when I dance the world new!”

Jon wonders if he can borrow some of Tim’s wit—what, you’re going to turn it into a dress or something?—but as the thought crosses his mind, another one meets it halfway and strikes him momentarily dumb with terror. The painting Martin Prime described all those months ago—the figure in the warehouse with the manic grin, the man tied to a chair. I thought you’d make a lovely frock.

Oh, God.

“But—but wh—” he begins, but gets no further. A shadowy arm shoots out of the darkness, faster than he can move, and seizes him around the throat in a powerful grip. It is, as he surmised from hearing the clapping, made of plastic—or at least something hard and unyielding—smooth, firm, and cold. He finds himself both wishing he kept his scarf on and glad he didn’t, as the plastic joints would probably pinch at Charlie’s inexpert and uneven stitches and unravel them.

That thought quickly takes second place to the fact that his feet are not touching the floor, followed by the fact that his flow of oxygen is very definitely being cut off.

“Question time is over, little Archivist,” Orsinov says, still in that same sing-song voice. “Find the skin. You have until…well, until I change my mind.”

She opens her hand, and Jon drops to the ground in a graceless, undignified heap. He gasps and sputters, struggling to force air back into his lungs, and looks up at the silhouette looming over him, equal parts terrified and angry.

“Shh,” she says, the sound far eerier than it has any right to be. “Save your energy for the dance.”

The plastic footsteps sound on the laminate again, and Nikola Orsinov is gone, leaving Jon alone in the darkened apartment.

He spends a few minutes greedily gulping down air. Tears stream down his cheeks and he’s not sure if it’s from the near-asphyxiation or from fear or maybe a little bit of both. Rubbing at his sore throat with one hand, he fishes out his phone with the other, activates it, and stares at the picture for a long moment, hoping to draw on that sense of peace and happiness he felt in the moment he took it.

He doesn’t. All he feels is a renewed sense of terror, because everything he loves is in this picture. It’s a reminder of what he stands to lose if he fails—of what can be taken from him in an instant if he’s not careful. He has to find that skin. Somehow.

He thumbs over to his contacts, hovers over the button to call Martin, and stops. He can’t. He’s still coughing and gasping for air, so if he tries to call, Martin will know by his voice something is wrong and try to come after him, and he can’t put him in danger. Can’t worry him, not like that.

Instead, he switches over to the group chat Tim has arbitrarily labeled Team Archives Happy Fun Times And Doomsday Prophylactic Society Executive Committee and sends a text. [Almost done. Where are you all?]

Sasha replies first. [Still back at the Archives. Cleaning up for the night.]

Tim is the next to respond. Rather than words, he sends a picture he obviously took at arm’s length, crammed between Martin and Sasha and with the time and date on a laptop screen behind them prominently displayed. Jon smiles, briefly. They’ve all grown a bit less trusting of text messages since the whole Jane Prentiss incident; he’s pretty sure the next step is going to be code phrases that change on the daily.

[Stay there. All of you. I’ll be back shortly.] Jon struggles to his feet and switches on the lamp. He contemplates the boxes for a moment, then sweeps as many of the books as he can into one and folds it up. The other he unpacks and unfolds again, then tucks the box of tea into his jacket along with the tape recorder. He puts the scarf back on carefully, hoping it’ll hide any bruising, hoists the box in both arms, and remembers to lock the door on his way out.

He drove today. Thank God he drove today. After carefully checking the backseat, the boot, and under the car for stray clowns or mannequins or anything else, really, he climbs into the car and drives the exact speed limit back to the Institute. It’s well past the end of the day by the time he arrives, and it’s a Friday to boot, so he’s pretty much the last car in the parking lot. Jon leaves the box of books in the boot, double-checks the locks, and practically runs down the steps into the Archives.

His team is there, standing by the cluster of desks. Martin is the first to notice, and he makes a small noise that alerts the others to turn around. Jon doesn’t slow down, just charges straight across the Archives floor and all but flings himself at Tim and Martin. As their arms wrap around him, he relaxes for the first time since the lights went out, even though he’s very aware of the fact that he’s still shaking.

“Jon? Jon, what’s wrong?” Martin’s voice is sharp with anxiety. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“We’ve got you. We’ve got you,” Tim murmurs. “It’s okay. You’re safe. What happened?”

“Orsinov,” Jon croaks out, and damn, his voice is still raw. He doesn’t pull back from the comfort of his friends’ embrace, though. “Gregor Orsinov—his, his daughter, I suppose—calls herself Nikola Orsinov—she was there.”

“Oh, God.” Tim pulls both Martin and Jon closer to himself. There’s a brief rustle, and then Jon feels someone else join the embrace; he sincerely hopes it’s Sasha. “In Gertrude’s flat? Was she waiting for you?”

“No—no, she followed me.”

“What did she want?” Sasha asks, and thankfully her voice is right where he’d expect it to be if she was the fourth member of this hug.

Jon tries to take a deep breath and accidentally gets a mouthful of fluff from Tim’s sweater, so it takes a second before he can answer. “The gorilla skin—the one from the statement. The one that Rawlings told you had been stolen. She wants me to find it.”

Some of the pressure eases up; Jon clings harder to Martin and Tim, feeling a little foolish but not really caring. He’s scared, damn it, he needs the comfort, and while sometimes when he’s afraid he wants to be given space and left alone, more and more lately he’s found himself only feeling safe when he’s being held. He decides not to think too hard about what that says about him.

“Why does she think you can find it?” Sasha asks, sounding puzzled.

“A-apparently Gertrude stole it. Orsinov thought she’d destroyed it, but…” Jon hesitates. He doesn’t want to make Tim think it’s his fault.

Tim groans. “But I was asking leading questions, so once Breekon and Hope outed me, she thought we were looking for it, too. God, Jon, I—”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Jon insists. “I-it—it’s not your fault.”

“Did she hurt you?” Martin asks quietly. “Or just try to frighten you?”

Oh, Jon is tempted to lie. Martin didn’t force him to answer; he can just stay silent. But his options don’t exist in a vacuum, and he can’t do that to Martin.

“She grabbed me,” he admits. “By the throat. J-just for a minute, but—”

“Oh, God. Let me see.” Martin tries to pull back, but Jon grabs him tighter and shakes his head.

“I’m all right. I’m all right,” he insists. It’s not quite the truth and not quite a lie. “It’s not—I’ll take a look when we get home. I just don’t—right now I don’t want anyone going anywhere alone. Sasha, are you—do you want to spend the night or—”

“I really need to go home,” Sasha says, and when Jon looks over at her, she seems regretful. “Visiting hours tomorrow, and I promised Uncle Wade I’d be there.”

“Okay. Then I’m driving you, at least.”

“I’ll accept a ride.”

Jon nods. “Just…give me a minute.”

He knows it’s silly. Knows it’s a lot to ask of Tim and Martin. But he just needs a few more minutes in the safety of their arms before he has the strength to move.

They don’t talk about it further that night. They drop Sasha off, bring the books into their house, and have dinner. Martin makes a soothing tea and Tim carefully tends to the bruises forming on Jon’s throat and Jon makes tomato soup despite the other two saying he doesn’t have to cook. They end up going to bed early, snug under a quilt and a knitted afghan and cuddled close together. Jon falls asleep safe and warm in Tim and Martin’s arms, and for the first time in over a year, he doesn’t dream.

[loversthroughtime]

I have your back

Summary: The problem, started when Miroku had asked the headman of the village for a place to stay for the night since it had been fairly windy out, and the thought of having to sleep another night in the cold filled them all with dread. However, the headman wasn’t too keen on letting a group with two full demons and a hanyo stay in his village despite the fact they had just saved said village from disaster.

Hearing his words, Kagome gives the ignorant man a piece of her mind. https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886559

It had been a day like any other: they had woken up early and set off through the countryside, after a while they had stumbled upon a village that needed their help with a demon that was more annoying than menacing. While it had been a weak one, it had taken them a bit longer to get rid of it, because it moved faster than anticipated. Still, it had caused no real damage to the village and no one had gotten hurt, which had been a relief to everyone involved; besides, villagers usually gave them more food to express their gratitude when the village remained unharmed. The problem, though, started when Miroku had asked the headman of the village for a place to stay for the night since it had been fairly windy out, and the thought of having to sleep another night in the cold filled them all with dread. Even Inuyasha, who didn’t normally complain about such things, had to admit to himself that staying inside with a nice fire and plenty of food (that he didn’t need to catch himself) sounded extremely nice. “I’m very grateful for your help in freeing us from that demon, we’ve been having trouble with him stealing our food for a while. If there’s any way we can repay you, do let me know.” Miroku found it strange that the headman had kept his eyes focused on him, only occasionally glancing at Sango and Kagome as he was speaking, given the fact that they had barely even fought the demon--having only cornered him--and it had been, in fact, Inuyasha who had done most if not all of the work. “Why thank you, we are very happy to know we could be of help. As for repaying, we would be very grateful if you would let us stay the night and provide some food for us so we can recover our energy before we resume our travels tomorrow.” However, the headman wasn’t too keen on letting a group with two full demons and a hanyo stay in his village despite the fact they had just saved said village from disaster. The rest of the villagers seemed to agree as they were quick to throw barely audible snide remarks everytime they so much as caught Inuyasha’s eyes. “I’m grateful to you three for saving the village, and I will allow YOU to stay, however the demons must find another place.” He said, addressing Miroku, Sango and Kagome. Miroku sighed, but tried to reason with him as he was set on getting them a place to stay. “I understand your distrust for demons, as you’ve probably only met ones that wanted nothing but to destroy your village, but I can assure you that my friends are harmless. If anything, we just proved that they mean well by ridding the village of that horrible creature.” “I do not care if they aren’t dangerous as you say.” The headman interrupted without a second hesitation, making Miroku question if he had been truly listening to what he was saying, or if he had just been thinking what to answer next. “A demon is still a demon, and I will have no such FILTH sleeping in my village and risk the lives of my people. And don’t get me started on what an abomination the existence of a half breed like that entails for the world!” he spat with disgust, making Miroku and Sango flinch. Sango stepped forward, feeling herself get mad at the accusations thrown towards her friends. “As a demon exterminator I can assure you, SIR,” she spat with all the venom she had in her, “That what we say is true, we would not allow any harm to your village, and we most certainly would not travel with anyone we deemed dangerous.” Sango’s words seemed to get lost on their way to the villagers' ears, for they all scoffed and started murmuring amongst themselves about how disgusting they thought they all were for keeping such company, regardless of what Miroku and Sango had just said.

“Excuse me if I don’t trust your words, no one worthy of my trust would display affection for a half demon like that.” He threw a death glare at Inuyasha. “Everyone knows half demons are the lowest form of life, even more so than demon’s themselves. Half breeds are scum and unworthy of breathing, if you ask me.” At hearing his words, a sudden wave of rage ran through Kagome unlike any she had felt before. This man had just suggested Inuyasha wasn’t worthy of being alive because of who he was! Now, Kagome wasn’t stupid--she knew this was not the first time he had been called that, and although she had never heard anyone directly call him anything particularly bad, she had witnessed people being afraid of him and keeping their distance. She even recalled the time he had lost himself to his demon side and slaughtering those bandits, and how the villagers had started expressing their concerns over him. At the time, she had been too stunned to say anything or react, other than search for his face and feel her heart break at the expression he held. However this time would be different. No one would ever insult him in front of her if she could help it, for she would give everyone a piece of her mind-and with that thought in mind, she walked up right to the headman, pushing Miroku aside. “EXCUSE ME?” She yelled. “Now I know you’re stupid, because anyone with half a braincell would realize that the one who defeated the demon that was terrorizing YOUR village, was Inuyasha. But I didn’t know you were stupid enough to insult him and think that he won’t GUT you like he did that demon!” Kagome’s face displayed such rage unlike any of her companions had ever seen--it was both scary and inspiring to watch such a small girl have so much nerve against a man that was more than twice her age and size. “Listen--” “NO, I’m not finished. Inuyasha is brave and selfless and kind. He would make this village 100 times safer if he stayed the night, but you’re so wrapped up in your prejudice you can’t even take the time to see he’s a good man.”

At Kagome’s words, Inuyasha could feel his heart skip a beat and begin to pound at twice the normal speed. “Not only that, but he was born out of love, something you will NEVER know. His very existence is proof of something beautiful and is beyond anything that you will ever experience, because no one will ever care for you the way I care about him.” Kagome held her ground and stared directly at the headman’s eyes in defiance. In an act of intimidation, the headman took a couple steps forward and looked down on Kagome as he towered over her tiny frame “Now listen here little girl, I do not know what kind of spell he has placed over you to make you say such words, as if those things would ever describe the monstrosity that is the result of a demon and human. But his very existence disgusts me, as he is nothing but vermin who should have never been born. Whatever woman brought him into this life should’ve done all of us a favor and drowned him when she had the chance.” At this Kagome raised her hand and was about to throw the hardest punch she would ever deliver in her life, but was stopped by two strong hands grabbing her by the legs and hoisting her up upon a very strong shoulder, sending her shoes flying as she kicked her feet in a startle. “Enough already, let’s go, this isn’t worth anyone's time.” Inuyasha said as he started walking away from the village in a quick but steady pace. “Hey, I wasn’t done with him! LET ME DOWN!” But as much as Kagome kicked and thrashed, she was powerless against Inuyasha’s strong hold until she eventually gave up and allowed him to carry her wherever it was he was going. The others followed after them, and she silently thanked Shippo for picking up her shoes and bringing them with him, as she had lost her other pair in battle a couple weeks prior, and to be frank she really didn’t want to go barefoot or borrow Sango’s spare sandals since they always flew off during battle and she ended up barefoot either way. After what seemed like hours--although it was probably more like 20 minutes--they reached a nice clearing in the forest and Inuyasha set Kagome down gently on her feet. “We’ll set camp right here, there’s enough trees for cover so the wind won’t be too bad.” Miroku and Sango exchanged glances with each other, but decided to remain silent so as to not upset their friend any further than he already was. Kagome could tell by Inuyasha’s eyes that he was feeling down and mentally smacked herself for not thinking how what just happened must be affecting him. If she were to guess he was blaming himself for them not having a proper place to sleep tonight. Shippo returned Kagome’s shoes to her, and as Miroku and Sango started gathering wood to set up the campfire, she walked over to where Inuyasha was sitting, motioning with her head for him to follow. They didn’t go too far, as it was important to keep close in case trouble arised, but far enough that they wouldn’t be overheard. Kagome knew what they were about to discuss was a delicate subject for Inuyasha, and he wouldn’t open up if he knew anyone else was listening in. “I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time. “Whatever are you sorry for?” Kagome asked him incredulously. “It’s my fault we weren’t able to stay at the village this time, and any other time for that matter, I’m not stupid.” His eyes didn’t have the sparkle they usually held in them, and he was looking down as he spoke almost afraid to look at her after admitting this. Kagome stepped closer to him and put her hand against his cheek, making him look at her in shock. “Inuyasha, I meant every word I said back there. You are beyond anything any of those people can imagine. You make sure we always have food, a safe place to sleep. I don’t care that we can’t stay in a hut. As long as you’re with me I’d sleep in a pile of shit - okay maybe not a pile of shit but you get my point” At this Inuyasha chuckled and leaned into the hand that was cupping his left cheek, closing his eyes and relishing in her scent and close proximity. “Thank you - for having my back, for saying all those things to him. No one… no one has ever done that for me before” he opened his eyes and looked at her in a way that let her know how grateful he was. It was rare that Inuyasha would open up to her like this, that he would express gratitude over what she had done, but it wasn’t that rare was it? When she thought about it and thought about everything they had been through together. Perhaps in the beginning he would’ve scoffed and called her an idiot for thinking that way about him, but now he knew he was worth more than people in the past let him think. She made sure every single day in any way she could to remind him of it, and assure him he was loved. “We always have each other’s backs, you are worthy of every single breath you take, and you’re perfect just the way you are, there’s not a single hair in your body that I would change… you know that, right? I meant it when I said you were born out of love, I can feel it when you take care of me.” Inuyasha’s face was burning red, but despite his embarrassment at not being used to such words directed at him, he nodded as a small smile formed in his mouth. For how could his heart not swell at Kagome’s words? Despite past experiences telling him she was probably lying, He knew she meant every word, and most importantly, he believed her with everything he had. Kagome dropped her hand from his cheek and dragged it downward, touching his arm all the way until she grabbed his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. “Let’s go before the others get worried about where we went.” Inuyasha began wondering what he had done to deserve such a beautifully mad woman like Kagome. In all his years he never thought anyone would come to love and accept him the way Kagome did. If only he would get over himself and express his feelings towards her, but it wasn’t the right moment yet; he knew in his soul the perfect time would come to let her know how he felt. For now he would have to show it in other ways. He squeezed her hand and gave her the most loving smile he could muster. “Yeah, let’s go.” And so they started making their way back to their friends hand in hand.

[queenharumiura]

(When you casually remember you have another KHR blog that you can connect timelines with for the luls. This tiny brain rot hasn't left me so I thought to write a small thing for it. Readmore bc i'm shy.)

@belacedia​

-

With a small bird perched on her shoulder, Haru was led down the long halls by Kusakabe, who was quite used to escorting her to and fro on the behest of Hibari Kyouya, the Cloud Guardian of the Vongola.

Haru was showed into a room where Hibari was already sipping a warm cup of tea at. It never ceased to amaze her how this room in particular was filled to the brim with Japanese aesthetic. A traditional room fitting for a man who was somewhat old-fashioned.

She didn’t know what exactly she was called in here for, but she didn’t feel unnerved by his presence. Over the years, the two would interact with each other at random and one could say they’ve formed something akin to a friendship. At least, that was how Haru saw it.

Don’t get her wrong, it took an incredibly long amount of time to reach a stage where the two could enjoy a cup of tea together as Haru would speak on random inanities. The little bird, who Haru dubbed ‘Mi-chan,’ flew towards Hibari, perching on his outstretched finger. “Miura.” He greets her calmly.

“Hibari-san.” She greets back as she simply approaches, sitting down at the table where a cup of tea was already poured for her. “Can I ask why you’ve sent Mi-chan to me today?” Not bothering to waste time with the pleasantries, she cut right to the chase.

The warmth of the teacup felt comforting as her nerves were wound tight in anticipation. While there were many yellow feathered ‘minions’ under Hibari’s command, there was one in particular that Haru often interacted with, and it was due to the fact that Haru had found it injured one day and nursed it back to health before returning it to Hibari’s side.

Having grown attached to Haru, Hibari deemed it useful to allow this one lone bird to serve as a liaison between Haru and himself. It was quite rare when the bird that Haru has affectionately named ‘Mi-chan’ was used for any business other than spoiling the bird with treats, so being summoned the way she had today had Haru feeling nervous.

“A couple birds have reported something interesting. A certain Prince has been visiting you frequently.”

Haru almost dropped her tea in shock, but she managed to keep the cup in her hands by fumbling. She wasn't expecting to be having this conversation with Hibari of all people. “Hahi? They told you about that? Well- it’s not wrong…” She awkwardly fiddled with the cup in her hands. “… He’s been visiting me often.” At a certain point, she’d dare say he was just terrorizing her by getting on her nerves, but at large, it was mostly harmless.

She did ponder on this fact in her downtime, but it did seem like Belphegor’s frequent visits didn't go completely unnoticed. So far, it seemed that only Hibari knew about it (Or rather he was the only one to outright confront her about it).

Eyebrows raised in surprise, “You called me here just for that?” Her tone was incredulous as he never involved himself in her business as it wasn’t his place to do so. The two would talk on occasion and it was merely due to the fact that Haru put forth the effort to try to get along with all of the guardians, and that included Hibari. It was accurate to say that the both of them had come to a common agreement to simply accept each other’s existence and not bother the other.

It helped that Haru got along with the yellow avians, often looking after them if they wanted to rest after a long day of hard work. It only took one of the avians to speak well of her for the rest to understand that she was a ‘good person who can serve as a secondary food source.’

Not one to owe others favors, Hibari willingly associated with her on occasion. Luckily, Haru never asked too much of him, so they could interact with each other in peace. “What is he planning to do in Namimori that involves your cooperation?” His teacup now empty, she had his entire attention. Obviously, this conversation would not budge from this topic.

She blinks a few times before she chuckles quietly. “I don’t think anyone has plans to harm Namimori, Hibari-san. I understand the concern, but he can be agreeable if you’re willing to meet him halfway. He certainly is very lacking in sociability, but he’s doing his best… I think. Even though his reputation is what it is, he is able to be civil, so I don’t think you need to be concerned about his casual visits.” She has absolutely no intention of stating that Belphegor wouldn’t destroy Namimori if a mission was involved.

“You have a positive opinion of him.” Hibari notes, his piercing gaze picking every small movement of hers down as his mind then collates everything together to form a coherent but unorthodox thought. “Don’t get played.” A pointed comment that both would be able to understand.

Of course, he was referring to a certain 10th generation mafia boss. “Tsuna-san didn’t play around with me.” Haru hisses, instantly going on the defensive. Being played would suggest that he even looked in her direction to begin with—which he didn’t. Just like the lightning comes and goes with a sudden flash, her temper could leave as quickly as it came. “I don't think Bel is playing around with me. I feel he's being sincere. At the very least, he doesn’t force any expectations on me. He respects my ambitions more than some others we know, and I appreciate that. He’s surprisingly--- likable at times. Would I be stupid for thinking about him?” Who knew there'd come a day when Haru speaks about relationships with the  Hibari Kyouya?

The matter of relationships and feelings were foreign ground for the likes of Hibari, who much preferred to keep to himself, save for those he approves of. Just as she didn’t interfere with his business, he wouldn’t interfere with hers. If she could objectively deduce that she trusted the destructive Prince, that was her choice to make.

Surely, she wouldn’t continue the mistake of falling for yet another person who wouldn’t look her way. Then again, perhaps that wouldn’t be an issue, if Belphegor’s frequent visits were of any indication. It was also true to say that he hadn't received any reports of any significant property damage in Namimori immediately following Belphegor's casual visits, so it may be beneficial to relax his guard on the matter.

Steel cold eyes glanced at the woman across the table, noting the indecisive sheen in her eyes. The normally ambitious and self-assured woman had moments of hesitation, it seems. “It’s your choice to make. Don’t belittle yourself. Any damage to Namimori and it’s people will be met with force.”

"With force!" The yellow bird chimes in randomly, flapping its wings energetically. 

A small smile graces Haru’s features as she read between the lines, “Haru is being made into a convenient excuse for a fight, hm? At least give me a chance to fight for myself first.” In other words, should anything go wrong, the best person to have as an ally in Namimori was Hibari himself. There were some benefits to trying to befriend the guardians, wouldn’t you know? 

It was only a matter of time before others learned about what was going on, so it would be beneficial for all parties involved for her to make her decision quickly, lest she be bothered by a couple of worried nagging guys.

“I told you all this in confidence, you know? Of course, you wouldn’t go blabbing, right?”

“Your private life is of no business to the rest.” Living life without an annoying pest worrying about inanities was a day well spent, after all. 

“Hibari-san understands well.”

She thought it was a bit early to be considering anything in seriousness, but it never hurt to cover your bases. The moment Gokudera or Tsuna heard about Belphegor’s frequent visits, her life was going to be rife with annoyances. Hibari wouldn’t alert the others to what he’s noticed and he may feel it necessary to ensure the others are kept in the dark for the sake of peace and quiet.

The moment Tsunayoshi’s worries trickle down the ranks of the Vongola, Namimori’s peace would surely take the fall. Barring a Prince from doing whatever he wished to do? That reeked of property damage.

Really, it was nice having someone like him as a ‘friend’, sometimes. “Since I’m here, let me tell you about a recipe I’ve thought up recently. I think the birds would love it. It would be tasty and healthy for them.” 

"Hm. Give the recipe to Kusakabe."

“Roger that.” 

[caravaggiosbrushes]

99, joplittle? I can imagine Little saying that.

Hello!! This is my first ever joplittle, aaa I hope it will be good decent okay. thank you for the prompt, I love it! i also got the same one asked for a fitzier so this will be fun, i’ll try to go with two different vibes :}

also WHOOPS, this got out of hand and obviously isn’t a drabble anymore. I hope that’s alright. Hope you like it and thanks again! :*

99: "Don't look at me like that"

Once in a while, when Luck kisses him right in the centre of his forehead, HMS Terror’s Lieutenant Edward Little gets to experience something he values more than any golden treasure: being alone with HMS Terror’s steward Thomas Jopson.

Sometimes it happens in Terror’s great cabin, for just a mere few seconds, -after everyone else has already left and Edward has made sure to adjust his coat and hat very slowly so that he can steal one last glance at Jopson, before leaving all that beauty behind to venture into the freezing unknown,- but on some other memorable occasions they happened to be in the same room for more than just a couple of breaths, and well, that’s everything he hopes for and has been hoping for, every day for the greatest part of the past two years.

This morning, Fate and Luck both must have granted him with a kiss on each cheek, because he seems to keep crossing paths with Jopson whenever he goes: starting from that morning, when he caught a quick glimpse of him leaving Crozier’s cabin, -all precise motions and slightly furrowed eyebrows in concentration of whatever task he was dealing with,- up until now, when Jopson has found him in the pantry room, double checking the quantity of their supplies.

“Oh.” Comes the soft sound of surprise when the door opens, revealing his angelic face. Jopson’s eyes are big and wonderful in the dim light of the only lantern Edward has with him, and he wishes he could look at them from up close, see all the different shades of that icy light-blue, light-green incredible color.

It’s such a wonderful surprise that his mind goes blank for a moment before he can bring himself to greet him, “Jopson.”

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to disturb.” He’s already moving to close the door, “I will come back later.”

“I wouldn’t mind some company.” Edward hurries to says, maybe with a little too much force, but it makes him stop, and that’s everything he wanted. Jopson lifts his gaze up on him and this time it stays there and Edward is totally captured by it. He offers him a small, reassuring smile, praying it won’t look as eager as it is. “Please, you can stay.”

Jopson simply nods and thanks him with one of those sweet smiles of his, as if Edward had just paid him the greatest compliment (how he wishes he could do that. God only knows all the compliments and sweet and filthy things he has whispered to Thomas Jopson in the privacy of his own sick mind) and heads to one corner of the room, looking for something Edward doesn’t care in the slightest right now: the only thing he’d want Jopson to focus on his himself.

Which turns out to be a thought he immediately regrets, only a few minutes later, because Jopson keeps looking at him, and yes, yes, this is exactly what Edward wanted, that’s the issue: it makes it impossible to focus on anything else. Comparing the numbers on his list to the actual tins is now the hardest task ever; he keeps losing count of the veal tomato stew tins he has already counted three times; the list in his hands has became a blur of nonsense black scribbles.

He doesn’t even know what Jopson is doing here in the pantry room and he would like to ask, but he’s afraid that if he’d open his mouth now his sick thoughts concerning the stewart would come out as well.

Meanwhile Jopson keeps stealing quick glances at him and Edward is so weak when it comes to him, so weak, so he finds himself doing exactly the same thing: looking over his own shoulder to steal a glance at him, only to find him already looking in his direction. Jopson’s eyes are clear and calm and welcoming, every time they meet his own. Edward has never been good at making small talk and he knows he has no obligations toward a steward -but Jopson is so much more than that, isn’t he?- but he tries is best to say this and that, only to have an excuse to talk to him and look at him while he answers -always politely, in a soft but self-assured tone. Well-mannered, but not weak, he’s so far from being a weak man.

It feels like some kind of game they are playing and Edward loves it, would like to keep going forever.

Jopson seems to gain confidence by the minute and stops fleeting his gaze: instead he starts looking at him with a soft, sincere smile, making it even more unbearable to witness and not touch, and Edward can’t take this sweet torture any longer.

"Don't-" He has to lower his own gaze, running away like a coward from Jopson’s lovely stare, “Don’t look at me like that. Please.”

He doesn't immediately offer a reply and Edward silently chastises himself for speaking in the haste of the moment, not measuring his words better. He risks a look to the steward’s face and surprisingly find no anger or shame on it, just harmless curiosity and a sweet shadow of confusion, which makes him look a bit lost, like a child who has ventured a bit too far in the woods. Edward would gladly takes his hand to help him out of it.

There is also a trace of worry on his beautiful face, which is absurd, but Jopson is always ready to worry and care for everyone else, quietly and effectively, it’s literally his job after all (but is it just that? Edwards muses, or is it his kind soul, that he can see shining through his soft barely-there smiles and big, gleaming eyes?) so perhaps it makes sense, perhaps he’s used to always put everyone else before himself (Edward would change that: he would gladly be the one caring for him when Jopson forgets).

The stewart turns fully towards him, giving him his thorough attention. He straightens his back, lifts his chin up and tilts his head to the side, just a touch. His voice is full of respect for his superior, but has a hint of- playfulness when he says, “How am I looking at you, sir?”

“Like…” He thinks about the right way to say it. “Your eyes are just-” the most precious thing I’ve ever seen and being looked at by you feels like a constant blessing that I’m sure I’m not worthy of, and how could he say that? “You stare at me a lot.” He resign to say, trying his hardest not to sound annoyed by it.

Jopson parts his lips as to speak, but nothing comes out. There is a small, but meaningful crease of concern in between his eyebrows.

“I apologize, sir.” He says, offering a polite smile, regaining his composure, “I will make sure it won’t happen again.” He bows his head and turns his back to him, starting to apparently pick up everything he has collected.

Edward can’t have him leaving like this, not now.

“Wait.”

Jopson stops. He slowly turns around to face Edward again: his gaze goes to Edward’s face, but he quickly fixes it down somewhere on his chest, his face more troubled than what Edward would like.

“Yes, sir?”

He’s not smiling anymore and Edward feels that loss almost achingly.

“I didn’t say I mind it.” He tries to use a conversational tone that doesn’t betray the erratic beating of his heart. “Nor that you should stop.”

Even if Jopson is not looking at his face anymore Edward notices his eyes getting bigger and even more shinier, accompanied by the tiniest curl of a smile.

Jopson finally lifts his gaze on his face again. He looks straight into his eyes. “Are you sure, sir?”

“I am.” He will always be.

“Then I won’t stop." Those sweet dimples appear around his smile, "It will be a pleasure.”

Edward can feel his own heart skipping a beat as soon as the fear of having ruined this moment melts away. He’s about to say something, but Jopson takes a step towards the door, which accidentally also means towards Edward and says: “And it would be an even greater pleasure to have you looking at me, sir, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Edward feels so warm under his- interested stare.

“I,” he has to clear his voice. Jopson’s eyes are crystal clear and so very bright. “I don’t mind, no. I will make sure to make the most out of it.”

Jopson’s voice is lower than how Edward has ever heard it when he says, holding his gaze: “Very good, sir.”

Edward, he thinks, Please, call me Edward.

(Send me a prompt from this list!) + (posted on ao3)

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 27 - Fruit

Sylvia the hammerspace dragon wants to indulge on her favorite day: the day the Dragonslayers Guild cafeteria has strawberries! Unfortunately, it seems fate and herself have conspired to set obstacles in her way. But she REALLY wants those strawberries! (2029 words)

cw: soft vore, digestion discussion, traumatized prey

Above the heads of dragonslayers and dragonslayers in training, soared a small, golden dragoness, only a couple of feet long. Sylvia flapped her wings, twisting herself through corkscrews and slow loops as she hummed a happy tune. She glided along over heads helmeted and unhelmeted, katul and human, on her way towards the cafeteria. It was a very special day that day, one that made her consider spitting out the pair of trainees who called her a harmless mascot. Well, spitting them out sooner. It made her light mood lighter still, the active reminder that she, too, could be a man-eating dragon and terrorize a rather small bit of countryside. Not that she would, of course, but knowing she could was pleasant.

With agility and grace, the tiny dragon slipped through the open door to the cafeteria and made a beeline for the desserts, where a number of slices of strawberry cake lay out for guild members. Sylvia landed behind them, folded her wings, and looked up at the human keeping that area stocked. "Hi, Bruce! I smelled strawberries~!" she called up to him in a singsong voice.

Bruce waved at her, his curly hair kept in check with a cap. "Hey, Sylvia. But you know strawberries are for those who aren't eating people, right?"

Sylvia's wings drooped and she swept her tail around her in a draconic pout. "Aw, c'mon, how'd you even know?"

The human crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, holding up two fingers. "Simple," he explained, "one, better than even odds this time of year. Plenty of newbies around who've yet to learn Rule Number One. And two," Bruce's smile grew into a self-satisfied grin, "you just told me. Lucky guess turned into a certainty."

The little dragoness huffed, flapping her wings once and slapping her golden tail against the table. She had been betrayed by her own words! "I still want strawberries, though," she insisted.

"So just- hold on," Bruce said, setting out a sleeve of cookies to replace the one that just got cleared out, "so head into the bathroom or something, spit 'em out, and come back for your strawberries."

"Turning my punishment for them into a punishment for me?" Sylvia observed, "pure treachery. Unfettered evil. I really want those strawberries." She tilted her head as she looked at Bruce, smiled deviously, and licked her muzzle with a long, forked tongue. "And you, Bruce, are standing in my way..."

The man regarded her with skepticism, eyebrow quirked to match. "They'll be here when you get back, trust me. And if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you better not be." He gestured with a hand to the people picking up cookies or cake as they spoke. "I mean, if I vanish, who will refill this? Then you've got a bunch of dessert-less dragonslayers with a pretty good idea that a dragon is responsible for their lack of sugary sweets, and possibly which one in particular. Imagine the carnage."

Sylvia squinted at him. "Bruce, I must say that your reasoning is exactly as strong as mine," she said slowly, "and, as you are still keeper of the strawberries I so crave, I will concede and presently return, devoid of humans." She stepped across the counter, picking her way carefully around desserts until she found a good space from which to take off. Just before spreading her wings, she turned her little head to face him again. "Can I eat you after lunch, then?"

"Sorry little lady, I have some very important not-being-eaten-by-a-dragoness to do around then. Fully booked."

"Alas, schedules," Sylvia conceded, then leapt up and flapped her golden wings. Some crumbs from a nearby cookie blew away from her wings' downdraft, but it was otherwise a very polite takeoff. She climbed, then dove and banked to speed off towards an unoccupied restroom. And by unoccupied, she meant the out of order one.

The small dragon pushed the door open with some effort, then slipped inside and perched on a sink. It was easy to see why there was a sign up on this one - two of the sinks were simply not there, as were a few stall doors. Either way, it made the perfect isolated space to disgorge a couple wet fools. And so she did.

The tiger katul quickly got his bearings, then noticed Sylvia and skipped back to keep his distance. The human was a bit slower, and, on seeing the dragoness, she shot the katul a cocky smile. "See? We're perfectly fine."

The feline nodded, not daring to take his eyes off of her. "I'm grateful," he said in a quiet voice.

"You're welcome!" chirped Sylvia. "This would've ended differently if you were, like, graduated members who should know better. I'm nice to the new guys."

"Sure you are," the human remarked. "You're surrounded by dragonslayers; there's no way we were ever in any danger."

Sylvia turned on the tap she was perched near and took a quick drink before addressing the woman. "Under three humans or katul a week, with low hoarding, and they can't even challenge me, let alone force me to accept. It's part of the enchantments around their swords and the duel circle things." She gave each of them a pointed look. "Small category dragon, green/yellow threshold. You'll have to learn it for... what is it, second year? Well before you get your real Slayer's Sword." She turned to the tiger and smiled. "But she's kind of right - I'm rarely lethal, just like to remind people of that first Rule. Know what that is, guy?"

The katul opened his mouth to answer, but the human cut in faster, "yeah, yeah, take all dragons seriously, even if they don't look like a threat. But you're clearly not a threat. You're like a scared-straight... thing." She snorted. "Hell, you're probably an herbivore or something, can't even process meat so you just do what you did to us."

A growl rose and died in Sylvia's throat, and she turned to face the woman, baring her sharp yet tiny teeth in a wide grin. "Care to bet your life on it?" she asked, forcing a sweet tone too much to be natural. "I'll eat you again, and if I'm really harmless, I'll have to let you out eventually."

"A... and if you're not?" the tiger asked.

"Then I won't have a human in my belly, I'll have a large chunk of meat and some shiny accessories I'll want to add to my hoard," Sylvia replied in a nonchalant tone. "You, however, aren't at risk here, just Little Miss Doubtful here." The dragoness leaned towards the human. "Scared? I don't bite."

Sylvia was conflicted, herself; on one paw, it would be nice for the woman to learn her lesson and back down, but on the other, eating her would be so cathartic... Fortunately for Sylvia, it wasn't her decision to make. The human stepped forward and held out her hands, then smirked towards the tiger. "I'll see you in a few hours," she said, confident in her decision. Sylvia took the offered hands, easily gulping the much larger human down without so much as a bulge in her neck or belly. And then, it was just her and the tiger.

He took a cautious step forward, watching her. "Where did she..." he trailed off, bewilderment overtaking his newfound fear of the golden dragoness.

"Oh, right, you wouldn't have seen since I ate you first!" Sylvia swished her tail, reared up on her haunches, and flared her wings proudly. "Neat trick, huh? Hammerspace dragon. We're pretty awesome."

The katul glanced at the door. "Y-yeah... may I please leave, ma'am?"

"Yeah, of course, the door's right-" Sylvia paused as his phrasing sank in. "Oh, you're terrified of me. Whoops. Um, right, so I'll go ahead and leave so I'm not trapping you in here." She took to the air again and flapped over to the door again. She struggled to open it, but with just a crack open, the smell of strawberries reinvigorated her. "Ooh, right, strawberries! Gotta go and pester Bruce some more!" she chirped, then slipped back out and swiftly flew straight back to the desserts area.

"Such a hurry," Bruce remarked as she slowed, the tiny breeze from her wings blowing against his face as she rapidly decelerated, "I told you I wasn't gonna run out of them."

"And I told you," she replied, folding her wings, "that I really want them. Give the dragon her delicious strawberries, please!"

"Belly free of people?" he asked, watching her closely. It was simple enough that he didn't expect her to lie, but just in case...

"No humans, no katul!" she chirped.

"No dragons?"

Sylvia recoiled. "What sicko would eat a dragon?! Yes, of course no dragons!"

Bruce chuckled, turned around, and returned with a pound of strawberries in a small, cardboard container. He set it down in front of the small dragoness, whose mouth fell open in a broad smile and whose pupils expanded at the sight of her favorite fruit. As she placed her forepaws on the edge and leaned in, Sylvia said in awe, "so this is what a religious experience feels like..." before leaning in and slowly taking a bite from one of the fruits, moaning softly as the juicy, tart flesh filled her mouth.

"Sylvia, member of the Dragonslayers Guild Strawnagogue, and her holy book The Frageriah," the human said as he watched her lovingly devour one of the fruits. Anyone familiar with her could tell when she really liked a food, because she'd bite into it rather than swallowing it whole, and strawberries were by far her most beloved food. He glanced up and saw an unfamiliar tiger katul, damp fur only somewhat groomed down, walking up. "Hey there," he called when the katul drew near, "new here?"

"Yeah, it's been... rough. Is getting eaten normal for dragonslayers?" He picked up a slice of strawberry cake.

"Well, it's one of the more common ways to die trying to slay a dragon," Bruce said, "but it sounds like you're the one Sylvia swallowed earlier. She just about threw a fit since I wouldn't give her strawberries with someone in her stomach."

"I did not! Fits are unjustified and excessive; what I did was perfectly reasonable!" Sylvia retorted, poking her juice-soaked head out of the strawberries. The katul screamed and leapt back half a dozen feet, eyes wide on seeing her. "What's his prob-" she looked down at her paw, then licked her muzzle experimentally, discovering the red juices on her muzzle. "Oh. Wow, he's been really unlucky with me." She blinked, then ducked back down into her strawberry heaven, slowly working through the treat, bite by tiny bite.

The tiger pointed a shaky, striped finger at the little dragoness. "Stay away from her! She killed a woman in front of me, like it was just another Thursday for her!"

Sylvia froze. Bruce froze. "Sylvia..." the human said in a warning tone, "care to explain? Because I asked you about this before giving you those strawberries."

The golden dragoness took another bite. Bruce gently picked her up, pinning her wings with one hand and holding her neck in the other. She dropped the strawberry. "I... do not consider what is in my stomach to be a human?" she pled.

Bruce was not very convinced. He walked around the counter, keeping her a reasonable distance away from the frightened newbie, and marched towards the cafeteria exit. "No murder in the cafeteria," he scolded, "naughty dragons do not get strawberries. Try another day."

The little dragon wiggled in his hands, but could not free herself. "This is cruel and unusual punishment, it violates the Geneva Conventions!" she argued, "I simply made sure to eat a meal before my strawberry dessert. How dare you mistreat a responsible, mature dragoness like th- woah!" She quickly righted herself when he tossed her into the hallway, then left her there as he went back to his post.

"Next strawberry day," she resolved, licking her scales clean of delicious strawberry juice and seeds, "next time, I will get so many strawberries."