#also shes definitely purple right. even though the cover has her with normal skin colour

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Promises Stronger Than Darkness

3rd book in a fun YA space opera trilogy

follows Rachael, Elza, & friends on a desperate quest to save the universe from an ancient curse that might kill hundreds of suns

& they have to enlist the alien captain who stole their best friend/gf’s body for help

bi, trans, queer, nonbinary cast

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

anyway I need to go to bed but I have too much energy so I am channeling it into headcanons. here u go species headcanons for Everyone on the Dream smp with explanations because I’ve put a TON of thought into this. They’re probably like half contradicted by canon but fuck it My City Now.

Dream- A (juvenile) stage of being a god. He, DreamXD, and Drista have become known as “dreamons” but that’s technically a separate species, all spawned from them. He's not really focused on being worshipped in his own right, preferring power in the mortal realm, though he’s not averse to pretending to be his brother (the god worshipped by Church Prime) or his sister (a minor goddess of death worshipped by many hidden cults) if it can help him get power. He’s got pure white skin everywhere except his face (which is pale but human-like), black blood, entirely green eyes, pointed ears, fangs, claws, and digitigrade legs ending in hoof-like claws.

George- A human, the only human on the whole server. Humans are pretty rare, vastly outnumbered by hybrids but outnumbering any other species, and “pure” humans (what we'd consider to be a completely normal appearing human) are all but nonexistent. For example, George has eyes with dark sclera and white irises.

Sapnap- A blaze hybrid. He’s got a few rods surrounding him and his eyes blaze with fire. It’s usually just warm but not hot enough to hurt but if he's agitated or upset it can easily burn hot enough to set things ablaze.

Callahan- A reindeer hybrid. He’s got antlers, reindeer ears, fur around his arms, and hooves.

Awesamdude- A creeper hybrid. He's tauric, with four insect like legs. His skin and is green and mottled and has a texture similar to leaves. His eyes are pitch black. He has a tendency to make hissing sounds when stressed, though he can’t explode like a full blooded creeper.

Alyssa- A mouse hybrid, with large mouse ears and a long tail. This definitely isn’t an in joke for the thousands of hours I spent browsing TVTropes as a child and the “what happened to the mouse” tROPE SHUT UP.

Ponk- A demon hybrid, with pointed ears, slit pupils, a small spaded tail, and small horns.

BadBoyHalo- A full blooded demon, with pointed ears, a tall stature, pitch black skin and hair, fangs, claws, hooves, a long spaded tail, long horns, and small bat like wings. He’s rather self conscious about how intimidating he looks. He's also a lich (with Skeppy as his phylactery) which is why he has pure white eyes (a trait the undead share).

TommyInnit- An absolute mess, genetic wise, since I’m taking Tommy's joke about being born in a lab and running with it. He's mostly angel, and was basically cloned from Phil's DNA (from a feather that fell off his wings that somehow someone got a hold of) but had a bunch of other hybrid and human DNA mixed in to make him somewhat stable enough to actually survive gestation. He has very small, dark wings that are useful for balance and little else, fangs, claws, and pointed ears. His bones are very light, making him fragile but a lot more dexterous. His blood is slightly off a human's, being slightly pinkish. His freckles, wings, blood, and eyes glow slightly and are patterned like the night sky. Technically undead as of his resurrection, and maintains the many injuries of his death permanently (bruises stay and don’t heal but don’t worsen, broken limbs can be moved at unnatural angles, ect.), pale, corpse like skin, and one of his eyes turned pure white.

Tubbo- A ram hybrid, with small curved ram horns, horizontal pupils, ram ears, a tail, and hooves. Nice and simple after the absolute mess that was Tommy.

Fundy- A limited shapeshifter, able to change his species, though he prefers to be in a fox-like form. He inherited this from Sally, who had similar abilities, though with more strength. He's always got certain features he inherited from each parent that he can’t change though- wings, pale skin, and ice-like freckles from Wilbur, and salmon scales coating his wings and cheeks, and ginger-and-white hair from Sally.

Punz- A dragon hybrid, with dark horns, dark sclera and slit pupils, wings just large enough for limited flight, a strong tail, fangs, claws, and blue scales coating his cheeks, wings, tail, arms, and legs. Has a natural inclination to sleep in a pile of his wealth he only holds off on when he feels it’s at risk of being stolen (which, since this is the Dream SMP, is almost constantly).

Purpled- An enderman hybrid, with small horns, pointed ears, purple blood, and ender particles surrounding him. Parts of his arms and legs are covered in leathery, pure black skin.

Wilbur- Half angel, half fucking refrigerator because cc!Wilbur hates us (affectionate). His skin is unnaturally, icy pale, and his blood is an icy blue. His freckles are the colour of ice reflecting. He's got wings from his father, large enough to glide, but they’re pale coloured and slightly transparent. He has fangs claws, and pointy ears. His blood, wings, and eyes glow slightly and are patterned like the night sky. As Ghostbur, he’s got the injuries of his death apparent at all times, though they don’t hinder him or cause him pain, corpse like skin, pure white eyes, and is permanently transparent.

JSchlatt- A ram hybrid. He’s got large ram horns, dark sclera and horizontal pupils, a ram tail, fur around his arms, and hooves.

Skeppy- A construct made to be Bad's phylactery. He's fully made of diamond, and appears as a moving human statue (though entirely made out of diamond), though he has limited shape shifting ability to change his “hair” and “clothes”, though he has to remain the same mass. He has some small red detailing on him out of redstone (which was used partially in his contruction). The egg flipped the red and teal in his colour scheme. Also he's smalllllllllllll.

Eret- Part ghost, due to being descended from Herobrine. She has pure white eyes, pointy ears, and under stress he becomes partially transparent. They tend to hide their nonhuman features (ears under hair or hats and eyes under sunglassses) and are often mistaken for human.

Jack Manifold- Started as a wolf hybrid, with large wolf ears and a tail. After dying, he came back from hell as a hellhound with red and blue “flames” coming from his eyes, ears, and replacing his missing tail he lost in one of his deaths with two made of this fire. The fire is chillingly cold to the touch, and not warm. His eyes are also monocolour, though in heterochromatic red and blue instead of the usual pure white found in undead.

Niki- A moth hybrid, with antennae, monocolour amber eyes, fluffy wings, and more fluff around her neck, wrists, and torso. These and her hair are patterned gold and black, though as of now she’s dyed them all pink. Idk I just feel like moths fit her for some reason.

Quackity- A duck hybrid, with golden wings and webbed hands and feet. He’s also a shapeshifter of sorts, however instead of shifting into different forms he shifts into different beings, from alternate realities that never came to be. These can be used to shift into near identical copies of those around him, to impersonate them, or to shift into alternate versions of people (like Mexican Dream to Dream). These aren’t Quackity, though, and as such they have their own pool of canon lives, and while he has lots of influence over them they can still act autonomously.

Karl Jacobs- An inter dimensional being made of time itself. While his current form is mostly human, he has technicolour rainbow blood, freckles, and patches on his skin, along with clock-shaped pupils that change with the time. His “natural” form is a vaguely humanoid mess of ever shifting colour.

HBomb- I didn’t know what to do with him at first- he was a cow hybrid in my pfp set- but I just think the idea of him being a chill cat hybrid who turns full nyaa whenever he’s in a maid dress to be funny so he’s a cat hybrid now. With dyed-white cat ears and a dyed-white cat tail.

Technoblade- A piglin hybrid primarily, but he’s definitely got some weird traces of other species. He’s got tusks, pink hair, pink pig ears, a pig tail, and hooves, but he’s also got paws from some other animal hybridisation in his blood, and has a tallness that suggests demon blood somewhere down the line. His red eyes aren’t natural, and only occurred after he was sacrificed to be the vessel of the Blood God.

Antfrost- A cat hybrid, with blond and brown fur, a cat tail, paws both on his hands and feet, and cat ears. He’s also got split pupils and blue sclerae (though a different shade to his irises).

Philza- An angel- the creation of a god or goddess to help serve them (Dreamon's would be an example of the angels the Dream's can create, though they’re primarily running wild nowadays.) The creation and servant of one of the gods of death, Kristen, to serve her in the mortal realm. He’s got very large feathered dark wings, pupilless unnaturally bright eyes, pointy ears, fangs, claws, and dark blood the colour of the night sky. His wings, eyes, freckles and blood glow brightly and are patterned like the night sky. Injuries reveal that he's fully inhuman under his skin, appearing to be a void of colour that also glows and is patterned like the night sky. His crows, who are messengers from the afterlife, have this same pattern on their feathers.

Conner- I don’t know much about him tbh but. He’s just a hedgehog hybrid. I mean he’s joked enough about canonically being the kid of Sonic and Elise. He’s got blue hedgehog ears and a tail, and blue spines mixed in with his dark hair.

Captain Puffy- A sheep hybrid, with small curled sheep horns, sheep ears, a fluffy sheep tail, hooves, and hair curly and soft like wool. The split in her hair between brown and white is natural, though she keeps a small section dyed rainbow.

Vikkstar- Another angel, though of a god long gone. His entire body, even his “clothes” (which are made of flesh) glow intensely bright and have the pattern of the night sky.

LazarBeam- A gingerbread hybrid, which I’d say is dumb but we’ve already had a refrigerator hybrid so. I don’t know what else to say here.

Ranboo- Half enderman, half god of some sort. Has small horns, pointy ears, an inhumanly wide mouth with fangs, claws, digitigrade feet ending in hoof-like claws, pure black and white skin, pure black and white hair and freckles on the opposite side of the skin, red and green heterochromatic eyes barely distinguishable from their sclera, and red and green blood. Hmm, I wonder what other character shares similar descriptions... :)

FoolishG- A more matured god than Dream. Appears to be made entirely out of gold, with his hair and freckles appearing like copper. His pure green eyes have a similar texture to emeralds. Also he’s like. Massive. He’s like eleven Skeppy's.

Hannah- A nymph of the forests. Has prehensile vines and flowers flowing in her hair all the way to the ground, and half of her face and one of her arms are entirely made of these prehensile vines and flowers. Makes flowers grow in her step, after being corrupted by the egg they wither around her instead.

Charlie- Slime hybrid. Honestly just kind of got the most impractical parts of being a hybrid, having random sections of skin changed into green slime which drips everywhere and kind of gets in the way. It doesn’t seem to bother him though.

[awhitehead17]

Universal Signs

Chapter Eight / Previous Chapter

Also on AO3

A/N: The rating has changed! It was general but is now teen. There is a bit violence and hints of blood towards the end of this chapter. Its nothing too graphic but just in case here's the warning if that makes you uncomfortable. 

Enjoy! :D

Tim wasn’t sulking. He wasn’t! He was just pouting in the common room on his own as he thinks through recent events. That’s all. No sulking involved whatsoever.

Okay so maybe he was sulking.  

His arm was irritating him. Underneath the bandage his skin itches and he has to forcibly stop himself from scratching at the wound. He scowls at the ceiling as he slumps back into the plush couch he was sat on. He can’t believe a cat spat at him and burnt his arm. Out of everything he’s encountered so far, that cat-like creature is probably the strangest things he’s yet to see. 

The aliens did tell him to not get too close, but in his defence they neglected to mention that the creature could spit over seven feet away! How was Tim supposed to know that? He saw the creature, it looked cute and fluffy and he wanted to pet it, then Kon-el found him and dragged him away. The alien’s reaction to the creature just made Tim more curious about it.

After grabbing food Tim found the cat again but kept his distance. It looked harmless and it even resembled his brother’s cat back home. However things went wrong when something spooked the creature and caused it to get nasty. In a matter of seconds it went from cute and cuddly to vicious and evil. It hissed and then spat at Tim before darting away and disappearing into the trees.

Thankfully he had quick reflexes and was able to cover his face with his arm before getting hit with the creature’s acid-like spit. His arm instantly flared up with pain which caused him to cry out. That’s when Kon-el appeared.

At least it was his arm that got burnt and not his face. Who knows what kind of damaged that would have caused if that was the outcome. Curiosity killed the cat. Tim snorts. Yeah, his curiosity did almost kill him this time.

“Are you okay?”

Tim jumps at the sudden voice. He turns around to look at them and follows them with his eyes as they walk over to the couch and sit opposite him.

“What’s funny?”

Cassie looks at him with slightly narrowed eyes, as if she’s suspicious of his behaviour. Tim eyes her up momentarily, even now after he’s been with them for a few weeks he still gets the odd feeling around Cassie. She’s warmed up to him a little in that time, as if she’s getting used to his presence now but there was still that underlying mistrust of him hanging around in the air.

Tim shrugs it off. There wasn’t a lot he could do about it in that moment. He averts his gaze from her and waves a dismissive hand. “Oh nothing, just some human crap.”

That was another thing Tim had learnt. Half of the time they have no idea what he’s saying, common phrases and sayings go right over their heads. Any abbreviations he makes gets him blanks stares. Movie and TV show references get him a raised eyebrow in question.

Of course this was to be expected considering where he is, but every time it happens the ache inside his chest of where he’s missing home just grows that bit heavier at the reminder.

Tim’s missing his friends and family. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he was taken from earth as he was unable to track time while he was captured and he only has a vague idea of how long he’s been with these guys on this ship.

It sucks and Tim absolutely hates it. Unfortunately he doesn’t have much of a choice but to suck it up and get on with it.

“Sure...” Cassie drawls giving him that look that says you humans are strange. “I wanted to update you on some stuff. First off, our next stop will be in a few days’ time to collect the next item we need. There isn’t much to do between now and then, so basically get comfy and relax. Second thing, how would you like your own room on the ship? We were speaking and it’s only fair that you get your own space like the rest of us have.”

Tim nods taking in the information before pausing and shooting her a surprised look. He had been expecting the next stop details, however the room news did surprise him.

“Really? I didn’t think there would be any room for me to have my own space?” He questions her. “I don’t want to put any of you out or make any trouble.”

“We can clear out one of the storage rooms and place a bed in there. It wouldn’t be much but it’s somewhere other than in the common room for you.”

Tim smiles gratefully, “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”

Having his own space would be nice. As comfy as the couch in the common room was, having his own space would definitely be preferred.

She nods. “Okay, I can let the others know and we can get started on that. Third thing, how’s your arm?”

Tim lets out a breath and shrugs. “Irritating. The wound is still fresh so it’s going to be annoying for a little while yet. If I keep it clean and stuff it should hopefully heal up within a week or two. Thankfully it’s not anywhere where it would really be a nuisance.”

She stays quiet as he watches him. Tim glances at her but looks away again. He has no clue to what she’s thinking, he probably doesn’t want to know either.

When the silence drags on, Tim decides to fill it. “So what’s the plan until the next stop? Got any ideas or no?”

She shakes her head. “No. As I said there’s not much we can do now until we reach the next destination. Try to keep yourself occupied until then. I’m sure one of the others can help entertain you if you get bored.”

After that apparently Cassie was done with the conversation because she stands up and leaves the room without another word. Tim blinks at her vacated spot, wrapping his head around the conversation. Right, so now he has to entertain himself for the time being.

He sighs and starts deciding what he’s going to do with himself. As he looks around the room for inspiration, his eyes land on the Rubik’s cube on the table in front of him.

Figuring that’ll do for the time being, Tim reaches over and grabs it. Two of the sides were already solved and Tim’s going to assume that Bart was the one to do it. He wonders how many more he can complete until their next destination.

 In the time it took to travel to the next planet, Tim simply plotted around the ship looking for things to do. One of the main things to be achieved within that time was that his room Cassie had mentioned has now been set up. It’s a storage room turned into a bedroom so it’s pretty small but they manage to get a bed in there along with a small wardrobe and a small chest of draws. It wasn’t a lot but it’s not like Tim had a lot of belongings anyway.

While it was nice to have his own private space sometimes it felt wrong. At times the room felt too small and it made him feel claustrophobic, especially since there were no windows. The bed sometimes felt to hard and he would just be tossing and turning on it. It made him miss his own bedroom back home. Like his pillow, god he misses his pillow, and his own blanket. Just the little things that he once took for granted.

He gets by though. It’s nice that they’ve created the room for him and he appreciates it.

To pass the time, they would occasionally play a few games, have the entertainment night that Bart got to decide what they do, work and chat.

Tim’s arm was still healing and from what he could tell it was healing nicely. Another couple of days and it should hopefully be back to normal. He’s been keeping an eye on it and treating it to the best of his abilities.

Eventually they enter the next planet’s atmosphere and Tim observes the descent from the window in the common room. The planet was filled with what looked like trees, well, at least if trees had dark blue leaves and purple trunks. By this point he wasn’t even surprised any more. The amount of crazy, beyond imaginable, things he’s seen and discovered while in space, things like this just don’t really shock him anymore. Though the idea of telling his family about all of this is rather amusing. They wouldn’t believe a single thing of it.

The ship descends down to the ground and lands with a thump. Once everything was stable Tim leaves the common room and heads for the cockpit where the others were gathered. He enters the room to find Cassie at the dashboard and Kon and Bart together at the table. He walks overs and claims one of the free seats for himself.

They both look at him as he settles.

“Tim, just to get you up to speed. We’re on the planet Tordar and we’re here because we need to gather up 50 pieces of Pingon,” Kon tells him.

Tim nods his understanding and straightens up when Kon slides a piece of paper across the table to him. He picks the page up and scans it. There was an image of what Tim is assuming they need to collect. It was a golden cylinder shape with what looked like pink coloured spikes sprouting out from the main body and there were large dark blue leaves appearing from one end of it.

It reminded Tim of a pineapple. At least if they were skinner, pink and had blue leaves.

Kon continues speaking, glancing at his team as well as Tim as he does so. “The picture is what we need to collect from this planet. Pingon’s are found hanging low off the trees. So hopefully we can simply grab and go.”

Tim puts the paper down and rubs a hand over his forehead. He sighs and looks up at the alien. “There’s more to it than that isn’t there? It’s never a simple grab and go. So what is it?”

The alien looks uneasy, shifting from foot to foot as he glances at Tim before sharing a look with the other two like he’s reluctant to tell Tim the information.

“Kon.” He presses.

In the end it wasn’t Kon who shares the information with him, it was Bart. Tim whips his head around to look at the speedster.

“A species called Galavent live on this planet and they are dangerous. They’re ferociously territorial, will maim and kill in an instant. They are not fun to be around at all.” He was staring at Tim with an intense expression, this alone was telling Tim Bart wasn’t joking around and this was the truth.

“Right,” Tim drawls, “Avoid killer… Galavents? No problem.”

He starts getting up from the table only to be stopped by Kon speaking up. “Tim, maybe you should stay on the ship for the time being.”

Tim grits his teeth and tries to hide his annoyance. “Why? Because I’m human? Because I don’t have powers like the rest of you?”

Kon open his mouth to say something but seems to reconsider his words. “No. Not because you’re human Tim but because your hurt. It’ll be safe for you on here than out there.”

Tim snorts in disbelief. It was only a matter of time before they would start treating him like he was a delicate piece of glass unable to do anything. He continues standing and pins Kon with a look.

“I’m fine. I have a minor injury, nothing that’ll stop me from doing regular things. I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.” When the alien stays silent, Tim takes that as a win. “I’ll meet you by the door.”

He leaves the room in a tense silent and heads for his own bedroom. If the planet did have dangerous creatures on it, it may be best that he has some sort of weapon. He grabs the metal pole from his room before heading down to the main door of the ship.

About a minute later the three others show up. As he approaches, Kon scowls at him, clearly not happy with this arrangement of Tim joining them out on the planet. Tim fakes a sweet smile, like he was completely innocent in the ordeal. He smiles for real when the only reaction he gets is Kon’s scowl deepening on his face.

As they walk, Tim notices that each of them was carrying something that resembled a large picnic basket. He doesn’t question them about it, figuring that they must be for carrying the pingon’s back to the ship.

The four of them soon leave the ship and step foot onto the planet. Tim was surprised to find it warmer than he expected. With all the trees around them (even though they’re purple) it reminds him of a jungle or forest back home. It was surprisingly light on the planet too, despite all of the leaves blocking the sky, everything was still visible to Tim’s human eyes.

Moving away from the ship, which was parked in the middle of a large clearing, they all enter the tree line and start hunting for the pingon’s they need to collect.

Thankfully the hunt doesn’t take too long for them to find the first bunch of pingon’s. They were indeed hanging low off the branches towards the ground, basically in perfect height for picking.

Tim walks over to one of the trees and studies the fruit. The colours were more vibrant in real life than what they were on paper. It looked like an exotic fruit someone would find in the Caribbean or something. He reaches out and gingerly touches the spikes of the fruit, not knowing what to expect. They were sharp but didn’t feel like they would pierce his skin, once again reminding him of a pineapple.

He grabs the fruit with a hand, pulls it off the branch in one swift movement and weighs the thing in his hands. It didn’t feel heavy like a pineapple does, in fact it was fairly light which was surprising. He wonders over to where Bart was picking a few from off another tree and puts his in Bart’s basket.

Between the four of them they clear that area of fruit fairly quickly and decide to move onto the next area. As he picks the fruit, Tim was half tempted to eat it. Maybe split one open to see what it looked like on the inside and try some of it.

He fiddles with the one in his hands as he glances around to where the others are. They were all too busy with their jobs to pay attention to him. Tim turns back to the fruit and positions his hands where the leaves were and braces himself to pull them off when –

“Tim what are you doing?”

When Cassie’s voice makes him pause. Annoyed he’s been caught, he sighs and turns around. He puts on his best innocent looking expression and shakes his head. “Nothing. Why what’s up?”

Cassie narrows her eyes at him in disbelief. “I’m going to say this now, but don’t eat the pingon’s. If consumed like this,” she holds up the pingon in her hand as demonstration, “unprepped, they can burn your insides. So listen to me and don’t eat the pingon’s. Understand?”

Tim blinks in horror at the fruit. Okay, apparently this is fruit that can burn your insides. This is just another thing to add to the mental ‘what the fuck?’ list Tim has currently running inside his head.

“Right, not eating the pingon raw. Got ya.”

He was still tempted to try the fruit of course but Tim’s going to listen because he likes his insides functioning and wants to keep it that way. Shaking the thoughts of burning insides out of his head, Tim continues with the task at hand. The quicker they finish the better.

They spend a little over an hour collecting all the fruit they need and gather a few more for themselves to have a treat at a later date. Once finished they begin to head back to the ship. The aliens were carrying the baskets while Tim walked behind them, lazily swinging his pole around with each step.

He doesn’t know when it started, but he knows when he first recognised the feeling. All the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stands up and goose bumps appear on his skin as he shivers. An uneasy feeling washes over him as he travels behind the aliens. It went on for a little while and the feeling wouldn’t go away.

Tim was sure something was watching him.

He stops walking to observe his surroundings, looking for anything unusual (or something that looked out of place at least) however all he could see were the thick trunks of the trees, hanging fruit and the dark blue leaves.

Tim takes a deep breath and lets it out before shaking his head. He’s just being paranoid, that’s all. Overthinking things and letting his imagination get the better of him.

Turning back around, Tim continues walking now picking up his speed to catch up with the others who were further up ahead and hadn’t noticed he stopped. Tim only travelled several meters when the growling started. It was a low sound that shook him right through his core, something that made him freeze on the spot.

He tries to control his breathing in order to stop himself from panicking, his heart starts pounding inside of his chest and all of his muscles in his body were frozen and tense.

The growling’s coming from behind him and it felt like it was getting louder by the second. His brain was screaming two different things at him. One was to run. Run and don’t look back. The second, was to turn around to see what was there.

Ever the curious human, Tim goes with the second option and stupidly turns around. He keeps his movements slow and steady so he doesn’t startle whatever is behind him.

Tim’s breath catches inside of his throat when he finally faces what was behind him. Hanging from a tree there was a huge monkey-like creature. It was staring at Tim with two black orbs for eyes, its long razer teeth were borne in a snarl as it growls at him.

For a moment Tim thought it was a baboon. The colour of the fur was the same and its body was similar. The main differences however was the size and the fact this thing was eyeing Tim up like he was candy.

Tim didn’t know what to do. He’s sure if he makes a move the monkey will pounce and after getting a glimpse of its claws Tim would rather not chance it.

Swallowing thickly Tim decides to take a cautious step back away from the animal. His eyes never leave the thing as he starts slowly backing away. If he doesn’t startle or aggravate it, fingers crossed, he’ll come out of this alive.

Tim’s method appeared to be working. The monkey doesn’t make a move against him as he backs away.

“Tim? Where are you?”

The sudden shout makes him jump and he holds his breath as the monkey seems to stiffen up in front of him and the growling increases in volume. Tim doesn’t dare look behind him though. He feels like if he moves his attention away from the creature then the animal will make a move. Almost like a spider you’re trying to capture, you keep watching it so you don’t lose it.

“I’m here.” Tim calls back carefully. Not too loud so he doesn’t startle the thing. “Um, something’s come up.”

“What do you me -oh.”

Now Tim could feel another presence behind him. However unlike before this one doesn’t feel threatening or put him on edge.

“Tim remember what we said on the ship. That’s a Galavent.”

Tim huffs, because of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

“What do we do?” He asks the alien. He can make a few guesses himself but he’s out of his element here and does not want to do anything wrong.

Before Kon could reply even more growling echoes around them. From above, the leaves all rustle and a glance up shows more monkeys – Galavents – appearing. Tim’s eyes widen at the realisation that they’re surrounded.

The animal in front of Tim finally moves. It drops down to the ground with a thump, and starts stalking towards Tim. It snarls and growls at him as it gets closer. With fear Tim starts backing up, no longer caring about careful movements. The animal in front just takes that as an invitation to move quicker, letting out a roar as it starts speeding towards him.

After that, it was like hell all broke loose.

As the Galavent charged towards him, Tim let out a yell and turned tail and ran, almost falling over as he does so. Kon, who was standing behind him, shouted and also ran with him. From behind, the monkeys all followed, letting out their roars, snarls and growls as they chased them.

“Get to the ship!” He hears Kon scream at him but Tim wasn’t really paying attention.

Sprinting through the trees, they scramble to get away from the animals pursuing them. Together they somehow make it to the clearing where the ship was but only to be stopped short. Next to him, Kon goes flying as a Galavent lands on his back and tackles him to the ground.

“Kon!”

Tim doesn’t get a chance to dwell on Kon being attacked because suddenly he was thrown to the side. When he hits the ground he rolls a few times before landing on his back, he barely gets the chance to react before a monkey was coming at him from above. Letting out a scream Tim uses the pole he still had to block the monkey’s attack as it lands on him.

Large fangs were snapping at him and sharp claws trying to rip him to shreds. Tim uses all of his might to keep it away from him.

Just as his arms were about to give out, the weight of the monkey disappears. Tim blinks in surprise at the sudden change of events and again as Bart materializes out of nowhere above him. He smirks down at Tim before darting off again.

Swallowing Tim scrambles up onto his feet and swings with the metal pole as one of the monkeys jump up at him. The pole hits it clean in the head and knocks it down. Tim swings a second time to knock another down which comes from above. He knocks it down to the ground and hits it again to try and knock it out. When it no longer moves Tim stops his motions and straightens back up looking for the next immediate threat.

A yell from his right gets his attention. It was Cassie wrestling one of the creatures on the floor. Her hands were locked around it’s jaw in attempts to keep it from biting her head off. Without even thinking about it, Tim’s moving. He sprints over to Cassie and bodily tackles the animal off her.

Because of his momentum, the two of them go sprawling over the ground. Tim loses track of the animal as he rolls several times before coming to a stop on his front. He shakes his head and tries to get past the dizziness that’s currently taken over.

His luck seems to run out there because unfortunately something lands on his back before he could get his head together. The impact winds him, leaving him breathless and then there’s the piercing pain that erupts in his shoulder. He lets out a curdling scream and thrashes wildly in an attempt to buck the thing off his back.

The pain somehow worsens as it seems to travel down from his shoulder to the middle of his back. Tim lets out another sound as he feels his skin split open and warmth spread across his back. Tears were forming in his eyes and there nothing else but pain.

From there it becomes a blur. Things just all mould into one. At some point the weight disappears off his back, there were shouts of what he thinks was his name but all that registered in Tim’s mind was the pain coming from his shoulder and back.

When something else touches him, he weakly fights it off, however that something was persistent and easily bats away Tim’s sluggish strikes. He screams again when more pain explodes inside of him.

He must have blacked out or something because the next thing he knows it that his face was being pushed into something soft underneath him. Unknown things were still touching him, there was a noise which sounded like a voice surrounding him but he couldn’t make it out and the main thing was there was still overwhelming pain coming from his back.

He yells again when something touches his back, causing another jolt to go through him. He tries to get away, tries to escape from what was hurting but he’s forced to stay still by a force. With his pain-fogged mind, Tim couldn’t work out what it was, but he didn’t actually care, he just wanted to get away from it.

After futile attempts to wiggle free, he whimpers. The whimper turns into a hoarse scream when it somehow gets worse. Tim’s never felt anything like this before. It must have been too much for him to handle because the last thing he remembers is letting out that scream and then nothing.

[nextwarden]

Still We Have Faces

Amenor had been leaning against the balustrade for a while now, eyes set on the stars and the night sky. A soft and warm wind was floating around yet she could feel the bumps forming on her skin. An almost imperceptible shiver ran down her spine. Perhaps it was time to put something over her dress. Summer was there to stay but nights still got chilly near the sea. Yet the atmosphere was so relaxing, the sound of the waves and distant seagulls, the thousand fireflies high up in the celestial, and the smell of home. She had felt it for a while now, it had crept slowly into her mind and before she'd been able to do anything against it - not that she really wanted anyway - she'd felt right where she was supposed to be. That was precisely the reason she was in that spot at that moment, lost in her thoughts. So much so that she had not heard his footsteps and only realized he was there when he dropped a layer of soft warmth on her shoulders.

"I thought you might be cold."

Of course he'd noticed, she smiled.

"Thank you."

He nodded and leaned beside her, eyes to the sea. He'd just finished putting away the dishes apparently, she could smell the flowery scent of soap from him. Why he did it manually she didn't quite understand, a quick spell and everything would be in order. Yet he insisted, the manual task calmed his mind, apparently. It wasn't that she didn't understand, she had the same thing with the garden, simply magicking everything into shape was far less rewarding after all. But why those boring and menial tasks too? He even went as far as to materialise his ice arm 'to have a better handle on the fragile things', however, so go figure…  In truth, now that she thought about it, they had not used - or abused - their powers that much since they'd moved in. If by powers one didn't count their augmented strength, heightened senses, or anything that pertained to their innately passive abilities. And abused, the efficient use of them made purely to oust trespassers. They'd mostly done everything by hand at a rather normal pace. And it did feel nice. Perhaps too nice? An unease had grown in the back of her mind recently and she couldn't quite put her finger on why exactly.

"Is everything okay?", she heard him ask, his voice ever gentle.

He did notice. Both a curse and a blessing.

"I'm not sure. I'm thinking about it…"

"Hmm."

A non-reply, as was his habit. He inquired and listened but did not pressure, she appreciated that about him.

"A drink?"

Only then did she notice the two glass bottles he'd brought with him, filled with soft alcohol, some sort of beer she surmised.

"Gladly."

They stayed silent for a while, enjoying the atmosphere and the privacy of their own thoughts. She got the impression he was tense, but maybe she was projecting. She'd have to out with it at some point, keeping it to herself was not a solution and worrying indefinitely would make him worry in turn. Curse! She felt like a child, a weak child whose emotions and fears ran amok until her parents would come to calm her down. Honesty, right. Talking about it was not being weak, and he deserved to know.

"Hey," she was unsure how to open.

"Yes?", he turned to her, his gaze steady and calm.

He knew she wanted to talk and in his infinite patience he gave her the time to collect her thoughts. She'd have kissed him then and there, had she not decided to have a serious conversation.

"I'm not quite sure how I feel about it yet, I don't even know if these are the words I'm trying for, but… I feel like something's missing."

He looked up and studied her for a while, his face calm. She saw the small smile perk his lips before he spoke.

"Like a sock, or like a part of you?"

"Like a part of me."

She smiled too, although weakly.

"Hmm."

"I know that no one is waiting for me back… there." She almost said 'home'; home was here now and she knew it, she felt it. Still, she couldn't help miss that part of her she'd said she'd cast away. "No one would welcome me with open arms even if I went back. I don't even know if I'd want anyone to… Still, I think I miss it.."

"Well the undergrowth is your realm after all."

It was, in many more ways than one. It had been her first home, the place where so many memories had been forged, her territory once she'd ascended to her role of Empress, and she couldn't deny the beauty she found in the strange and often eerie landscape.

"Would you want to go back?"

Her chest tightened at the question. Not because it was frank and direct, but because of the honesty with which he had asked. He wished to know and to help her know, as simple as that, nothing more. Or, perhaps, if he did have any ulterior motive, it was to help her.

"I… I'm unsure. I think I would but not definitively. I've found a new home since, and I quite like it here."

He smiled.

"What about you? Do you miss your world?"

She'd seen the wistful gaze before, fond and melancholic.

"You know I do. That's how things work once you lose them."

How true that was... He continued.

"I've always missed it a bit, though less in the beginning. Everything was so shiny and new here, it blinded me. But over time, as I got used to it, I realized that maybe I did miss those things I'd taken for granted before. Modern bathrooms, the internet, everything technology had to offer… Magic can do a lot, but not everything. And if something has not been discovered or invented here yet, its absence is noticeable. At least to me." He paused for a moment, his eyes delving into hers with immense care. "I learned to come to peace with it, though. It took some time and some work on myself. It doesn't mean I don't miss it, I just know that it's no use dwelling too much on it since it won't make it come back. Like a loved one when gone, you have to make it part of you so as to not forget but also so that you can move on. With, not without."

She could hear Vaud's breathing inside the house, the large dog must have fallen asleep near the fireplace after wolfing down its food. It seemed to have become its preferred spot for resting, whether it was lit or not, for its pleasant warmth in the winter and the refreshing coolness of the stones in the summer.

"Sometimes I do think about it, though," Lug continued. "All those unfinished things left behind… It's not like I had a lot of people who cared about me, I just regret the little things like books I left hanging, films I hadn't seen yet, music I had not heard, and such. If I could go back, I think I would."

Her heart didn't jump but she felt a needle of cold prick right through.

"It would have to be temporary, though, and on my terms, I wouldn't want to go back for good. Like you said, this is home now. My life is here, with you and Squiggles and Vaud."

She couldn't help a slightly annoyed snort.

"What is it with you and nicknames?"

"What? Squiggles? But it's so cute! And it fits her hair so well. Plus she said she liked it, so..."

Her disapproving head shake seemed neither to convince nor deter him. She knew it was a lost cause but she had a reputation to maintain. 

"Amenor?"

"Hmm?", she tucked back a strand of hair that was floating into her face.

She'd noticed the change in his voice, it was tinged with apprehension, as if he was unsure if he should speak. The silence that followed made her look his way. His eyes were full of many things, admiration, uncertainty, care, amusement, and, somehow, hope. She'd learned to read the variations in their glint over time, it had become one of her greatest weapons when they clashed. Now it made her unsure of herself. What was on his mind for such a storm to brew within them?

"I mean it."

"What exactly?"

His hand was on hers, warm and soft.

"That my life is here, with you."

"I know that. You've told me many times already."

"Well, may I tell you once more?"

The soft clink of the box caught her attention. She must have been distracted by the atmosphere which floated around them, she hadn't even noticed the warmth leave her hand. Now he was holding it in his, a small wooden container, richly carved and covered in purple velvet within. How he'd opened it she could only guess, he'd become quite deft with his remaining fingers as of late. The box contained two small strips of what seemed like simple cloth, beige coloured and covered in complex arrays of runes. She recognized them immediately and her eyes went to his once more. He was looking at her, his gaze steady and open.

"Amenor of Solefarer, heir to what is yours and former Empress over the Shadows, to you I ask this: this night, under the stars of the celestial, with the sea and the winds as witness and the hearth of this home as kingdom, would you take me for what I am as I would you for all you are?"

He had not knelt, nor had he prepared a grand effect. His words, although ceremonious, had remained simple yet full of meaning; they had rung true. This was not entirely a surprise for her, they had spoken of it in the past, broaching the subject jokingly and not quite, but he had always given her the impression of imagining some grand gesture. She, on the other hand, had not had much imagination for it, finding herself lacking in knowledge and experience of such things. Not that she had wanted nothing, she simply had not known how one would go about this. Yet now that it was upon her, now that he had proposed, she found it fitting and found herself unable to regret a thing. Perhaps she would come to it in the future, or perhaps not; they would have time to improve upon it if necessary. Now was as perfect as she would have wanted it any other way.

"I, Amenor of Solefarer," she used only her name; as fitting were any other of the titles attached to it, it felt more true to who she was now, "would gladly take you, Lug the Brave, Hero of the Dawn and vanguard of the Alliance, for all that you are as you would for what I am. Under the stars of the celestial with the sea for witness and until the hearth of this home goes ever cold."

Their eyes met and, for a while, it was all there was. Warmth and familiarity, a delightful certainty. Then, carefully placing the box atop the balustrade, he took one of the pieces of cloth and with the most gentle of touch he wrapped around the long finger she offered him. It was his turn to offer his hand, not the right one of course - or rather the right one, for that matter - but alternatives were scarce. She placed the cloth around his finger and wrapped it carefully. As she looked into his eyes again the moment seemed to stretch. That day had been unremarkable and so was that night, yet she could feel the world around in all its glory. His smile grew as their fingers interlaced.

"From now on until the hearth of this home grows ever cold."

She repeated the words that were meant to seal the commitment they had just chosen to make.

"From now on until the hearth of this home grows ever cold."

His voice was soft yet full of meaning meant only for her. The two strips of cloth began to glow as they spoke and soon turned into two full-fledged bands. One bronze-colored with patterns engraved in thin blue lines around its circumference, the other of a darker colour, resembling obsidian, and encrusted with thin golden carving. The seals had been made to work so long ago by old elven magi, once the vows had been exchanged the ritual would be considered as accomplished and they would take physical form. What form exactly depended on the desires of the bearer. Whether a ring, a necklace, an earring or any other piece that was willed by the bearer, it would become. They had both wanted rings yet the complementary nature of the result was astounding. Time seemed to slow down to a standstill yet again before a warm breeze washed over them. She felt the gentle tug and stepped forward, their hands parting to let their arms lock around each other. She did not close her eyes when his palm came to rest on her cheek, waiting until their lips touched to let herself fully enjoy the moment. It lasted a long time, long enough for his arm to wrap around her waist. She was almost half a head taller yet at that moment she felt a perfect fit, any feeling of vulnerability one might have expected washed away in the exhilarating intensity of the kiss. It wasn't the first and would certainly not be the last, yet it felt like it was.

…

"Mom? Dad?"

Sinojd's smaller frame came into view. She was wrapped in her blanket and her eyes were drooping with sleep along with her ears.

"Yes dear?", she heard him reply with a smile, his arm still warmly wrapped around her.

"Can we go pick flowers tomorrow?"

They looked at each other; it was rare enough for her to ask for something, but flower picking? That was a first. They knew she'd greatly enjoyed helping around the garden but never had she done that, always preferring to care for them as they were. Moreover if she'd asked to do it with them, it meant not in the garden. It wasn't like they had anything to do of importance the next day.

"Of course," it was Amenor's turn to reply.

"Thank…"

The girl had gone for a hug but hadn't even managed to finish either her gesture or her sentence, falling asleep against both of them in an instant. She looked at him and saw he was looking at her. Suddenly the same smile bloomed on both their lips. They'd promised, that was all.

—

PREVIOUSLY | NEXTLY

A Hero’s Retirement

[vaguewrites]

The Morning After

I wrote a sequel to my Watch Dogs fic because I’m a horrible monster who can’t be stopped. Lots of swearing, mentions of smut and Aiden/Defalt ahead.

An alarm jolts him awake, the shrill buzzing right in his ears. For a few seconds Defalt doesn’t know where he is. He’s tangled up in sheets that aren’t his, there’s none of his posters or monitors on the walls and where there should be his closet there’s a door that leads into a bathroom. He sits up and pain shoots up his back and he grunts, falling back against the bed. There’s warmth next to him. A figure that groans and rolls over to grab the buzzing thing, a phone, and shuts off the alarm before tossing it aside. It’s Pearce.

He’s naked next to Pearce, in Pearce’s bed, in that shitty motel Pearce likes to hang out in, in Pearce’s bed. Because they fucked. First in Defalt’s hideout and then here, in a proper bed with pillows for Defalt to shove his face into to hide his own stupid high pitched moans. No wonder Defalt can’t feel his own fucking ass.

“Morning,” Pearce says, rubbing at his eyes, and Defalt doesn’t know why he’s bothering to make small talk. Isn’t this where one of them has to get up and get the fuck out? And by one of them, he means himself since this isn’t his place. Where are his clothes anyway?

“Hey,” he replies, and his voice is hoarse and raspy. Probably because he’d sucked Pearce off before crying on his dick like one of those twinks from the bad pornos. “What time is it?”

“Eight.”

Defalt groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, Pearce, why the fuck did you set your alarm that early?”

Pearce chuckles. It’s almost weird hearing him laugh. He almost doesn’t seem like the kind who does. Defalt has to look at him to make sure it is actually him and not some weird body double. He’s stretched out on the bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling fan. He’s a hell of a lot more muscular than Defalt expected, but it’s not the kind you build up in a gym, but the kind you get from a lot of physical labour. Such as running around Chicago, climbing buildings and fucking up other people’s shit. Pearce is sturdy, thick and he’s got a light dusting of hair on his chest and stomach. There are scars too, some look like they came from bullets, some are pale and silvery from age and others pink and raw, probably a few weeks old. Defalt’s hands itch to touch him, to wander over his bulky frame and feel along each scar and hard curve of muscle. But he doesn’t.

“I didn’t think I was going to be up all night,” Pearce says. He throws Defalt a look. Defalt would almost call it mischievous but that doesn’t feel like the right word for Pearce. “You feeling okay?”

Defalt snorts. “You’re not that fucking big Pearce.”

“Not what you said last night.”

Defalt swats at him and Pearce catches his wrist. He thinks he’s just going to drop it but then Pearce pulls his hand in and kisses his knuckles. Defalt stills as he watches him. Pearce’s lips are soft and plump and his stubble scrapes his skin but Defalt kinda likes it this way. “What’re you doing?” He asks when he finally gets his voice to work. It feels like he’s swallowed cotton.

Pearce raises a brow. “Knitting. What does it look like?”

“Don’t you want me gone?” Defalt says before he can stop himself.

“Do you want to leave?” Pearce challenges him, then drops his hand and Defalt suddenly feels cold. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Does he want to leave? Normally when he hooks up with guys it’s always a comfy no strings attached deal where they both know it’s just a quick fuck and nothing more. He normally doesn’t sleep over, or let them sleep over. One of them is always gone after it’s over. With Pearce though, it’s different. He doesn’t know how or why it just is. Defalt could very easily just get up now and throw on his clothes and fuck off but he doesn’t. He stays in the bed, curled next to Pearce and chances throwing his arm over the man’s chest. Pearce doesn’t hesitate to pull him in, his rough, calloused hands smoothing over Defalt’s back.

“No,” Defalt says, because he feels he should probably say something.

Aiden kisses the side of his forehead. “Then don’t.”

Defalt rests his head in the crook of Aiden’s neck. He’s so warm it’s almost unreal, like a human furnace. Aiden holds him, rubbing his back until Defalt’s eyes grow heavy and he drifts back into sleep.

The next time he wakes up there’s no harsh ringing in his ears, but there’s also no Aiden in the bed with him. He sits up, winces, then glances down at a messily scrawled note left beside him.

“Sorry, T-Bone had a job, lunch later?”

Fucking T-Bone, Defalt thinks, tossing the note aside and gets up for a shower. He feels better after washing, then notices the amount of bruises and bite marks Aiden left on him, the bitch. The biggest one is on his neck. A deep purple colour that’s not gonna fade for a while. Defalt presses it and hisses as it stings a little. His shirt and hoodie don’t cover it but, hell, Clara and T-Bone are going to figure out they’re fucking eventually so there’s no point hiding it. And since Defalt doesn’t exactly want to spend the rest of the day cooped up in Aiden’s shitty motel room he decides he may as well head to their bunker.

That’s where he finds Clara, hunched over her laptop and typing away. She only spares him a glance, her perfectly drawn on eyebrow raised at his disheveled appearance.

“You look like shit,” she says, “I was trying to get through to you last night but you weren’t answering.”

“Yeah,” Defalt tries to hide his limp as he moves to sit beside her on one of the spare chairs. “Had stuff to do. Working on the next album. I’m behind as it is.”

Which is kinda true. That was what he was doing before Aiden railed him against his desk.

“You know if you’re struggling with work stuff you can take a back seat. I don’t think anyone will mind. T-Bone definitely won’t say shit.”

“Ah, I’m not worried about whatever the fuck T-Bone says,” Defalt leans back in the chair, one leg thrown over the other despite the ache in his lower back. “Where’s he at anyway?”

“The Loop. He and Aiden are following a lead. Though I think there’s more to it. T-Bone didn’t seem all that thrilled with Aiden this morning but I don’t know why. Which is weird because he adores Aiden.”

She doesn’t get to say anything more as the door slides open and Aiden and T-Bone step through. T-Bone looks as though he’s biting his tongue, his brows are furrowed but when he meets Defalt’s eyes he quickly looks away. That’s not unusual. He doesn’t meet his eyes often, even now when they’re supposed to be over the past. Well, over it is a kinda loose term. They got drunk together, Defalt screamed at him about his brother and how T-Bone was a fucking murderer and then they ugly cried in each other’s arms while T-Bone said he was sorry over and over. It’s obviously not fixed everything right away but it’s something, a start at healing. They’re not fighting as often at least.

“Jay, I need you,” Aiden says, hands shoved in pockets and voice gruff. It’s a little surreal seeing him being his regular stand-offish asshole self again after this morning, but Defalt shakes it off. They’re meant to be more “professional” now anyway.

“Alright. Text you later Clara,” Defalt says as he stands and Clara offers him a half wave. T-Bone watches as they leave and Defalt gives him an odd look because he can practically feel the tension rolling from him in waves. What kind of bitch fit did he and Aiden have?

He doesn’t find out until they’re halfway to the Mad Mile.

“He says I’m going to drag you down with me,” Aiden says. He’s gripping the steering wheel hard enough his knuckles are white.

Defalt frowns. “Do you care?”

“Yeah.”

Defalt doesn’t know what to say to that. He squirms in his seat, watching the buildings speed past. Something ugly and cold is curling in his chest. “So… This is a break up? Could’ve just said so before we got in the car.”

“I’m better at talking when I’m focused on something else,” Aiden says, “But if you want to get out I’ll stop us somewhere.”

“So you do want to break up,” Defalt grits his jaw. He’s not sure why he cares so much. He rests his head on his hand and stares out the window and tries not to think about the heat behind his eyes that threaten to spill over.

“I want to know what you want. I asked you this morning if you wanted to leave and you said no. I’m giving you that option again. I’m not the easiest guy to get along with, I know, and I’m definitely not the easiest to date. But I like you a lot, have for a while, and I’d like to try and make it work. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?”

“He brought up our age difference as well. How you might not want to settle down at all and I’m forcing you into it. How I’ll expect too much of you too soon. I don’t want to do that, Jay.”

“Sounds like you’re letting him do all the talking for me,” Defalt says.

“That’s why I’m talking to you now. What do you want?”

Defalt shifts again. What the hell does he want? He’d spent years focusing on his music and computers because it was what he was good at. He didn’t plan to make a career out of it, it just happened. He thought he wanted to kill T-Bone, wanted to make him suffer like he had. Only it turned out T-Bone had been living his own personal hell for years. So, in the end vengeance wouldn’t do jack shit. When it comes to dating, he was never with anyone for too long. He had a lot of demons and his boyfriends never had a lot of patience for it. Usually he was the one dumped. When he got famous for his music he couldn’t make time to date so he just hooked up with random guys when he could. But now… Hell, he still doesn’t fucking know. He’s liked Pearce too, he just never assumed the guy was into other guys. Last night was a huge fucking surprise.

“You,” he blurts out, and he almost misses the twitch of Aiden’s lips, “I mean, I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. Dating I mean.”

Aiden glances at him, deep green eyes full of so much fondness and Defalt’s not used to getting a look like that from anyone.

“Yeah. I can give it a shot,” Aiden says. “So long as you promise not to punch T-Bone when we get back.”

Defalt scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. “How’d he find out anyway?”

“He asked where you were because Clara couldn’t get a hold of you. I said you were with me.”

“Ah.”

The rest of the drive is in silence until they pull up to a bar. Defalt doesn’t get why they’re here until he sees Aiden looking at him expectantly and then he remembers the note.

“Oh, you lied about a job just to get me out for a date, Pearce?” Defalt can’t help the twitch of his lips.

“Technically I didn’t lie. I never said what I needed you for,” Aiden replies.

“Smart ass.”

“Thanks.”

Yeah, Defalt never thought much about what he wanted from life, other than causing another man pain. It’s almost bizarre to think how empty he’s always been, and just either never noticed or got too used to it. It feels like he’s woken up from some bad dream, or snapped back into reality after being trapped in his own head for so long. He’d thought he'd been living before, but now he realises he was just going through the motions, functioning but not attached to anything. It’s a stark contrast to now, where he feels so at home with Aiden, Clara and, fuck, even T-Bone, and he thinks about stuff outside of work and hacking and death. He doesn’t feel like himself anymore but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he had to be broken before he could fix himself back together. Maybe, as sappy as it sounds, Aiden’s the missing piece he needed.

[roses-of-rutherglen]

Uniquely Normal- chapter 2

-Seamus-

Seamus had been waiting for his Hogwarts letter ever since he accidentally set the cats tail on fire when he was two and a half. So when it arrived upon on his eleventh birthday there was much celebration in the Finnegan household.

The trip to Diagon Alley was planned over a weekend as they would have to travel from Portarlington to London. Seamus couldn't sleep for excitement in the nights leading up to the trip, this would also be the first time his dad had been to Diagon Alley despite knowing about his wife being a witch for the last fifteen years of their marriage. The sun rose bright and early as the family of three hopped in the car bound for London with their suitcases, prepared for a long weekend of shopping and learning about the world that two of them were entering that year.

Seamus was almost bored to death after the innumerably long trip, finally stepping stiffly out of the car and trying to work some feeling back into his legs. They could have flooed but his mother was insistent on travelling as non magical people do and making sure they stay in touch with both the Muggle and Wizarding sides to their lives.

They walked through the streets of London's shopping district before coming to a shabby looking pub with the peeling sign reading 'The Leaky Caldron'. Funnily the rest of the population seemed to scan right over the pub looking from the record store on the right to the coffee store on the left.

"Come along you two" his mam beckoned "it may not seem like much but ye'll be surprised." Both males shook their heads and followed the over enthusiastic Irish witch into the dingy pub.

"Hey mam, why'd we stop comin' here again? Cause I distinctly remember comin' here when I was a wee one" his mother chuckled.

"You and I stopped coming when you started having random outbursts of setting things on fire and nearly burnt down Magical Menagerie when you got too excited about the "wee cute mousies" she put air quotes around the last few words and Seamus groaned burying his head in his hands.

"Ah yes, I do seem to remember your particular flair for pyrotechnics that Ye haven't quite grown out of" smiled his dad "good for St Pats but not much for every day." Seamus looked away pretending not to know who his parents were before being dragged along to a wall at the back of the building.

His mam took out her wand and tapped the first brick to the left above the dustbins. Watching with awe as the bricks shifted and reformed revealing a street that seemed filled with magic and life. Store displays danced and the street was filled with light, chatter, and children around his age and older coming in and out of the many stores along the street. Everything was painted in bright colours catching his attention and drawing him away from his parents to stare at moving displays or glittering advertisements. People filled the street and several times he nearly got lost, dragged away in the current of people.

"Come on Seamus, keep up" called his dad as they started walking up the street towards the huge white building that looked like it should be a royal palace. Painted pearly white with all the decoration you could think of. He quickly hurried to catch up to his parents. They passed the security goblins before entering a huge hall.

The floor was marble and the clerk's desks made of rich coloured wood. The Finnegan family headed for a free clerk that was next to a boy with dark skin and his mother who looked to be exchanging muggle money for Galleons, sickles and knuts.

"Alright mate?” Seamus greeted the boy, he nodded looking bashful before Seamus continued, "me names Seamus" the boy smiled and replied

"My names Dean" the two shook hands

"first year at Hogwarts I'm guessing?" Seamus queried Dean smiled

"yeah, big shock to my parents honestly I think they wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer" they both chuckled and Seamus was for once grateful for his half muggle upbringing. Dean looked like he was about to say something else but Seamus' mother called out for him to follow her "One second Ma," he called back at her "what were Ye gonna say mate?" Dean shook his head

"doesn't matter, see you on the first" they waved their goodbyes and the two headed off leaving the boy to the back of his mind as he and his parents walked out of the bank and down the street.

"Alright I'll go and get your books," said his mam "and you two head on down to Olivander's then we'll get everything else we need." She hugged both of them and was off before they could say a word. Seamus looked around a little nervously before his Dad called out and they walked down the street.

"I know I'm not the best with this Seamus, but I hope Ye know I'm trying me best" his Dad stuttered nearly running into a witch with long purple hair and robes that people kept tripping over. Seamus smiled

"I know ye're doin' your best and I definitely appreciate that. We'be both been thrown pretty much into the deep end here." They both chuckled and looked up to find themselves in front of one of the shabbier shops within the street. The peeling gold letters over the door read 'Ollivander's makers of fine wands since 382 BC.' A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion on the window and the door made a slight tingling noise as they entered. A man who looked as old and shabby as his shop appeared behind the counter.

"Ah, hello there how are you both doing today?" Asked the man in a voice that sounded way too young for his years.

"Okay thanks, a wee bit nervous but getting more comfortable, how're ye going today sir," Seamus answered and the man smiled.

"An Irish man eh? Don't get many here they tend to go to Varitas' in Dublin but I'm glad to meet you. What might your name be?" The man called wandering off into the stacks of shelves lined with narrow rectangular boxes

"Er, Seamus Finnegan sir." Seamus called back watching as the man returned with several boxes under his arms.

"Ah yes, I remember when your mother first came in for her wand, wonderful woman with a sweetheart and strong beliefs."

"I think we can easily say stubborn." Interjected Seamus' father, gaining a chuckle from Seamus and a knowing grin from the older man.

"Try this one why don't you" Ollivander suggested taking the cover off the box closest to Seamus. He took the box lifting out the jet black wand inside it. "Yew, 10 inches and a core of unicorn hair slightly springy, good for charms." Seamus picked the wand up unsure of what to do next. " Well go on give it a flick" Olivander prompted Seamus did so and the chair that his Dad had just been about to sit in flew out from his grasp and into the wall losing one of its legs.

“Nope" stated Ollivander handing him the next wand, "13 inches, cherry wood and a dragon heart strung core, give it a swirl." Seamus did so and a painfully high pitched ringing emitted from the wand. "Drop it, no again a slightly tricky customer" Ollivander smiled. Seamus was confused how in any way that could be a good thing but before he could ask Olivander was back.

“I think this will be the one," he said handing it over. It was a light coloured wand with a black line spiraling down the handle section. "Oak and ebony 12 inches and a Phoenix feather core, definitely one of our more unusual combinations but let's try it." Seamus lifted the wand and gently swished it, golden sparks appeared from the end and a warm sensation ran up his arm he smiled.

Olivander did too "well, we found one this is one of the first wands I ever made and it has never been able to find a person, these two kinds of wood mix strength and flexibility into one while the Phoenix feather core shows you are pure of heart and will to do the best for everyone. This is a wonderful match and as I'm sure you saw, the wand chooses the wizard."

He held his hand out and Seamus shook it before paying the thirteen galleons for the wand and walking out with it in the box. They met his Mam outside the ice cream parlor and started walking down the street.

"Since you took so long in there I got yer books, potion ingredients and robes. All we gotta do now is go to Magical Menagerie without you setting something on fire and get you a pet." She smiled talking a million miles an hour, the two boys smiled at each other before following her down towards the brightly painted shop.

They ended up getting a jet black fluffy kitten with eyes like a galaxy, named him Ebony and headed back towards the wall that had formed their entrance, which from this side looked like an old wooden door and headed back through the streets of London towards the car park.

But as they drove back to the hotel and he thought back on his day, the boy from Gringotts, Dean, popped back into his mind and he regretted not talking to the obviously muggle-born boy more. Maybe he could have helped him find his way or even offered to save him a seat on the train, but what was done was done and he just had to hope he could find him again when school started.

All of a sudden he felt very alone, being the only child in the neighbourhood with magic was tough. Whilst he had plenty of friends he had no one he could really talk to about magic apart from his mother who was at work a lot and though his father tried he really couldn't relate. He couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts, and to see Dean again.

<- chapter 1 here!!! Chapter 3 here!!->

[takemedancingmaine]

It Was Self-Defense

“I.D.?”

I froze. My cards, including my I.D. had been in my bag that was stolen. I could feel Liam and Cleo beside me as they started to pull out their wallets to produce their cards.

I'd been hoping to avoid this. The guy at the door has definitely seen us at least five times before, and pretty recently, too. He knew we were all of age.

I slipped my hand into my back pocket where I had my paper I.D. that just came in the mail from the Missouri DMV today. It was in my pocket along with my temporary replacement debit card and my phone. No more purses for this girl.

I took out the piece of paper and definitely felt foolish when it was my turn, Liam and Cleo having already been cleared.

“Why is it paper?” The bouncer asked the question I knew my friends were also wanting to ask.

“I lost my wallet and I have to wait for Missouri to process a new license for me. This is what I've got until they send me an actual card,” I explained, my cheeks feeling warm with embarrassment.

He looked over the paper and then back at me, and although he was clearly hesitant, he let us all in any way.

I folded and slipped the paper into my back pocket as quickly as I could while Liam held the door open for me and Cleo.

“You lost your wallet?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I think I left it on the train and when I checked with the CTA they said they never found anything or got anything turned in, so…” I trailed off my lie and ducked my head to get under the arm of someone who was cheering over a Cubs RBI.

The Cubs were in the postseason and not only was all of Chicago alive with the excitement but my neighbourhood, being right near the stadium, was ecstatic.

“Wow,” Cleo sucked in a breath as we stepped up to the bar. “That sucks. Did you have to cancel all your cards, too? Did any of them have any charges?”

I nodded, “I did, but thankfully no charges. I froze them immediately from my phone once I'd realized what I'd done. I also had to report my Ventra card as stolen and have them transfer my pass to a new one. It was a hassle.”

“Thankfully you always keep your phone in your pocket,” Liam nodded at me before he turned to the bartender who’d just shown up, and ordered himself an IPA.

It had been four days since I was mugged.

After getting some oxygen back and peeling myself up off the porch, I had stumbled inside through the back door. Once both doors were locked and I was upstairs, I called the police.

While I waited for them to arrive I proceeded to cry as I cancelled my bank cards from my bank app on my phone and made a note to call the DMV as soon as they opened.

Then I made a note to call my landlord about the front lock. I'd be using the back door until he came by to fix it or put in a new lock.

I gave my account of what happened to the officers, tried to give a description as best I could, but it had been dark and I was attacked from behind by a man with a hood. I kept my tears at bay as best I could while I scratched out what had happened through a damaged throat.

One of the officers had given me a notepad of paper and a pen to use when I started coughing up blood from all the talking I'd done. Another handed me a handkerchief before he got me a glass of water from the filter in my fridge.

I had serious doubts that the police would find the man, not that I doubted their abilities, but I'd given them practically nothing to go on. Still, I felt marginally better after having them come to my home and make sure I was okay.

They assured me that attackers rarely come back to the same area for fear of the area being on alert after such an attack. It shouldn't really have given me peace of mind that my attacker had probably fled to another part of the city but, in a way, it did.

The officers recommended I go to the hospital, even tried to call the paramedics, to have my trachea checked out and make sure there was no real, lasting damage. I refused, figuring my wheezy voice would get better and that if I iced the bruises and used a salve the skin would return to normal colour soon enough.

I also wasn't going to tell anyone else what had happened.

I was going to be fine, just fine.

My friends and parents did not need to worry needlessly. My mom would only tell me to come home and leave Chicago forever and my friends would hover unnecessarily and neither option seemed the least bit appealing to me.

By Monday the wheeze had diminished from my voice so that it was almost unnoticeable. I told Louis I'd strained it while singing as I cleaned all day the day before and he shrugged it off.

The bruises were still a dark, deep purple and blue colour when I got ready for work on Monday though, so I'd settled for concealer and a turtleneck. The same went for Tuesday and now Wednesday. It was all turtlenecks and scarves for me and I'm sure it would be for a few more days.

Luckily, I was quite prone to wearing scarves tied fancily around my neck, so although it was abnormal for me to have my neck covered every day it wasn't enough to raise suspicion.

Today’s red fashion scarf was paired with a black T-shirt with a collar that had always been a little tight. I never wore it anymore because of that, but it meant that my neck was covered from top to bottom today and I didn't look too out of place when it ended up being warmer. A long sleeve turtleneck sweater might be a red flag in today's weather.

Cleo has even complimented me on the scarf.

After work Monday I had signed up for the early morning kickboxing classes at my gym and also found out they have a new self-defence class that's running. I missed the first two sessions, but I’d joined and would show up to class number three tomorrow.

I was fast and had some strength, but I don't know how to use either of those traits to my advantage, especially not when I'm attacked from behind or when I freeze up with fear. I couldn't feel weak like that again.

I couldn't.

I also hadn't been able to work out since it happened. I tried, too. Turns out a damaged trachea and heavy breathing do not mix. Sunday morning I had coughed up blood again less than a quarter of a mile into my run and ended up walking back to my apartment at a leisurely pace.

I think that was one of the things that upset me most. Not that I was keeping a secret from my friends, not that I had been made to feel so inexcusably weak, or that I was feeling kicked for thinking that my uncoordinated strength would help me in such a situation.

It was that my normal routine, my everyday life had been disrupted just enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I usually run to calm down and relax and just use the time to sort through the thoughts in my head that all seem to untangle when I'm running through parks and past storefronts. Now I can't even do that with my injured throat.

One of my coping mechanisms was stripped from me in the process of my mugging and that was hard for me to come to terms with.

I was looking forward to just spending time with my friends tonight, trying to return to a somewhat normal pattern of life outside of my typical go to the gym and then work and come home.

A sense of normalcy was what I strived for and as I ordered sparkling water and Liam rolled his eyes at Cleo, I felt a puzzle piece fall back into place. One out of thousands, but still, it was a start. My friends would always make fun of me for my choices at a bar.

I just stared at him for a moment as he and Cleo made faces to tease me, and instead of saying anything like they probably expected I would, I shrugged and took the gentle ribbing.

Once we had each been given our drinks we made our way over to a table against a wall. Liam and I sat beside each with Cleo sitting across from Liam and against the wall.

They both taught second grade and it was science project week for their kids and the two of them were so over it. I knew that they both secretly enjoyed their kids and the messes but they also definitely got stressed about their kids and the messes.

Liam was calm and level headed whenever he was out with us, but turned on a charismatic charm around children that had them listening to his every word, doing whatever lesson he'd asked for them to complete without complaint.

Cleo was almost Liam’s opposite, the yang to his yin if you will. While Cleo was chatty and charming with us and with her many suitors, she was a calming presence with her students. She never got riled up with them--near them when they couldn't see her, sure. (She'd often make faces and rub her temples and even let out a silent curse when she was alone in her classroom or walking in an empty hallway).

Cleo was so unyieldingly patient and easy going around her students that I often had trouble wrapping my head around it. How Liam and Cleo could alter their personalities back and forth in rapid succession with such success was a little admirable if not very unusual to me.

I think that's why they became such quick friends when Cleo started at the school. She and Liam are inverses of each other in varying situations and that has resulted in a deep understanding between each of them. Their friendship was absolutely adorable. I would be jealous of it if I didn't already get to be a friend to each of them.

“You look really tired, Ruby,” Cleo eyed me up before taking a sip of her red wine. I narrowed my eyes at her but shrugged a moment later.

“Oh cheers,” I told her and Liam, who had nodded in agreement that I looked tired. “You could just say haggard or some other variation of the word shit.”

“Just saying,” she smiled, undeterred by my comments.

“Has Louis been putting you through the ropes again this week?” Liam asked now as he sipped his drink. He had gotten a little bit of froth on his upper lip but he saw my eyes go to his mouth and immediately wiped it away with the back of his hand before I could say something.

“No,” I shook my head.

Really, work had been wonderfully normal all week. No projects, no weird discrepancies or anything. I still needed to talk to Louis about his stress levels and not opening a fourth location, but he'd not mentioned it all week, so I was giving it some time before I brought it up. Mostly I was still trying to figure out how to bring it up.

“I just haven't been sleeping well,” I said.

A half-truth.

I was sleeping fine. I'd only had one nightmare all week. It was really that I couldn't fall asleep. I didn't feel secure enough to fall asleep and drift off to unconsciousness. I tossed and turned, not actually asleep until I eventually was overtaken by exhaustion in the early hours of the morning.

It helped a bit that I couldn't wake up early to exercise and therefore got to sleep in an extra hour and a half, but it really wasn't that much of a help in the grand scheme of it all.

Oddly enough I didn't feel all that scared as I walked my street or walked in the city. I wasn't afraid to come out with friends tonight. I knew the statistical likelihood of it happening again was so low that I was just my normal state of nervous when I went anywhere.

I had downloaded one of those safe walk apps that you hold and when you let go for a few seconds it calls the cops automatically. It wouldn't stop anything, but I felt minutely better for having it anyway.

It wasn't that I was afraid to leave my house for fear of scary people in the world. I was still considerably bright-eyed about Chicago and the great big world in general.

I was just unsettled. It had become my constant. I was constantly checking over my shoulder, even in broad daylight. It had become my constant companion, the gnawing feeling in my stomach that kept me up at night.

I was in a heightened state at all times, my nerves not really calming down since last Saturday night. I hadn't been able to properly relax, not even in the shower with warm water willing my muscles to loosen and the steam surrounding me begging me to let go of the tension.

I had moments, when Louis would make me laugh or when I was on the train in the morning just seeing the orange sunrise through the dingy windows before it went underground that I'd take a breath and feel normal.

The feeling would be gone before the breath was even released, but that faint glimmer would live in my mind all day even if I couldn't hold onto it like I wanted. I knew my normal was out there. I just couldn't find it in a quantity that I could hold onto.

I was pulled back into the present by Cleo as she laughed at Liam.

“I can't believe I forgot about that!” Cleo said through her laughter.

I'd completely missed whatever story Liam had told, and he was giving me a strange look. He could tell I had been somewhere else in my head. He wasn't upset by it, rather he was just curious.

“One of my students managed to get herself stuck in the broom closet next to my classroom when she got the doors mixed up,” he filled me in. “She didn't even seem to mind that she was stuck. Instead, she just started tidying up the closet. When we realised where she was and got her unstuck, we found her sweeping the tiny space with one of the brooms.”

I laughed at the story once I'd been filled in. I vaguely remember being told about it when it happened. It was not long after Cleo started working there and the whole school went on lockdown when they couldn't place the girl. Cleo has been so nervous, terrified that she would somehow be blamed and get fired.

I forced myself to focus on my friends now, gave myself orders to engage in the conversation and just let my heightened state slip to the back of my mind while I engaged with them. It was as close to normal as I could manage.

I smiled when Liam began talking about a new band he’d found. Liam was one of those people to listen to a song or a CD over and over again until he remembered there was other music out there and then he would feel guilty for being so one-track minded--in some cases literally. He never stopped listening because he was bored though, it was simply because he had remembered something else wonderful or found something new.

The band is from Vancouver and he found them through a friend who'd seen them as an opener for a bigger band. Liam was now very invested in this band--a pop-punk band supposedly. He did promise to send us each the band info later tonight though so that we could listen as well. Cleo and I had each had a pop-punk phase.

“Have you been training for the Chicago Marathon?” Liam asked now. They're each on their second drink while I continued to sip my bubbly water. “I know you ran it last year,” he added.

I shrugged. “It's only a month away and I run around 20 miles daily, but I haven't been marathon training per-say. I haven't quite decided if I should do the race yet or not.”

“Isn't it expensive to sign up so late?” Cleo asked.

“It is,” I nodded. “Marathons are expensive anyway though, so I have enough set aside for it just in case. I just have to make up my mind.”

Liam and Cleo each took that for their answers and nodded. I didn't mention that I was going to sign up this past Sunday but after my attack, I needed to wait to train and then wait to see if I'd been set back at all by the week off.

Now though, with having signed up for morning kickboxing classes I doubted I'd be running the marathon. I wanted to push myself, but maybe it was time to push myself in a different direction, to try something new and challenging in a different right.

“Let me know if you decide to do it,” Liam said. “I'll definitely come down to cheer you on and to make fun of you afterwards when you're feeling too exhausted to do anything.”

“I appreciate that support, Liam,” I nudged him with my arm before he and Cleo start in on what they're going to do with their kids on their field trip to the Field Museum next week.

By the time I was walking home and Cleo texted me saying she’d made it home alright, I could feel myself shedding the normalcy I had pretended to dwell within while I was out with my friends.

I had donned the cloak of fine, just fine Ruby for a few hours tonight and it seemed to work wonders. I was worried that Louis might notice my heightened state after a few days and that Liam and Cleo would catch on as well, but it seemed I was a better actor that I gave myself credit for.

Before I got into my bed that night I checked both front doors and both back doors to make sure they were each locked and even then once I slipped under the covers I felt jittery and unsure of my security.

Eventually, the exhaustion pulled me under and I fell asleep with worried thoughts and a tension still pulling tightly on my shoulders.

“Honestly I don't feel all that great about you participating today while you're injured,” he said. “I recommend you sit out this week's session, you can watch and ask questions, but I'm hesitant to let you work out.”

I made a face and felt my heart start to beat faster at the thought of sitting out another activity because of my attack.

“It's really not that bad,” I appealed, feeling my desperation and trying not to let it sink out into my tone. “The bruising is almost a week old. I've been resting since Saturday. I'm kind of restless to do something at this point.”

“The fact that that green and yellow colouring is from what is almost a week old bruise does not make me feel better,” Brian commented. Even with my darker skin tone, the yellow and green were pretty distinguishable and considerably garish.

“But if you think you're up for it…” he trailed off now, giving me a look. “If anything is even a bit uncomfortable--or if you start coughing--you're done, you're sitting and watching until next week. You got it?”

I nodded.

“Absolutely,” I assured him.

“Okay then,” he gave me a once-over and shook his head, almost as if he was shaking his head in disbelief at himself for allowing me to participate. I knew he was right to be worried, right to be hesitant, the bruising was pretty awful. I just couldn't keep sitting when my mind and body needed me to be moving and working and learning.

“Now you don't have to tell me what happened, but I have a feeling it's why you're here,” Brian said softly, his eyes going from my neck back to my eyes with both scepticism and understanding.

I didn't say anything, I just bit my lip and looked down at my shoes before I met his knowing gaze and nodded.

“You’re not going to be upset once we start pairing up to do demos, are you? Because if you are, that's fine,” he gave me a small smile. “And don't worry that you missed the first two classes. The first was mainly cardio to start getting us into shape to do these moves and the second was half questions half cardio. This is our first demo class.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “I think I'll be okay. I'm mad at myself for not doing anything to stop it more than anything else.”

“That's normal,” Brian gave me a knowing look. “We’ll break up the class with cardio in the middle, so seriously let me know if your throat starts hurting again. I won't stand for letting you get worse on my watch,” he narrowed his eyes for a moment before he gave me another small smile.

I took a deep breath and matched his gaze. “I'll be careful.”

“It's nice to meet you, Ruby. We’re glad you're here,” he said after a moment before giving me a pat on the shoulder as he walked past me and back toward the front of the studio to start the class.

It was the first time all week I had left my house without something covering my neck, or more accurately, covering the bruises on my neck. They had faded substantially but were still not healed.

My voice had been normal since sometime around midday on Tuesday after Louis forced cup after cup of warm tea on me. I could breathe normally, too. The light bruising around my ribs had healed enough that when I took a deep breath it didn't stretch my midsection uncomfortably.

It wasn’t until I brushed my hands against my neck the wrong way or laid awkwardly against my pillow that I would notice the twinge, the soreness.

I was pretty sure I could handle light exercise in the self-defence class. I hoped I could, anyway.

I had spent all day anxious to get here--the good kind of anxious. I wanted to learn and to get better, to learn how to use my body in a way I never had before.

I had expected the class to be packed, but it wasn't. There were only ten of us, including myself and Brian, the instructor. There were women ranging from a few years younger than me to maybe mid-forties.

Brian himself was probably just about my age. He was wearing a blue and yellow Michigan t-shirt which made me smile to myself a bit. The concentration of Michigan alumni in Chicago was pretty large. It made sense, it was a big city and closer than New York. For anyone who wanted to get out and be in the world, this was the place to go.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as Brian changed the music slightly and then started talking us through our warm up.

The warm-up left me feeling considerably better. I knew the feeling was my endorphins and that I would fall back down after the class. After a few jumping jacks and dynamic stretches, I was fighting the urge to cough, but the rest of me felt so good.

I took a few sips of water after we finished and avoided Brian’s gaze in my direction as I did so. His eyes kept glancing back at me throughout the exercises. I knew he was worried about me, and I knew my throat was hurting a bit, but I soldiered on anyway.

We talked about a few things, like what scared one of the older women about walking to her car at night and that one of the girls who went to college nearby and was terrified to go out at night because she was afraid of sexual assault.

Brian took his time answering questions as he paired each of us off with another member of the class. He paired himself off with me.

“Because I’m the only one I trust to work through some of this with those bruises on your neck,” he whispered in between explaining to Lucy, the college girl, the statistics of sexual assault.

“Not that numbers will make you feel better,” he shrugged. “But sometimes knowledge is power, so before we start the actual self-defence moves, knowing is the first step.”

“We’re going to start today with what to do when you're attacked from behind,” Brian said to the group as he came up beside me. “I’m going to talk Ruby through a move and then the rest of us are going to try it, so watch closely, okay?”

Everyone nodded at him in understanding as he turned to me, and his eyes met mine. I nodded in understanding as well.

“If I'm coming up behind Ruby and I put my hand over her mouth to stifle her cries for help, she's going to grab my wrist and pull it down,” he explained.

He gently placed his hand over my mouth and continued to explain as I wrapped my hand around his wrist. I thought back to that night and how I’d done nothing to really help myself and my resolve to do this outweighed any fear or any sour memory of the event and I zoned into what Brian was saying.

“Now, when Ruby yanks my wrist down she’s also going to bend forward from the hips, right? This will force me to bend with her and it will make me weaker,” he kept on. He gave me a nudge to go ahead and do as he said. So I did.

I pulled his arm down and bent us forward so that he was in a weaker position. I could tell he was giving in a bit for the demonstration, but the move was more than I'd done in real life and I was feeling powerful. One manoeuvre in and I was feeling empowered.

“From here, Ruby can bring her elbow into the side I've left exposed to hold her. She can also bring one of her legs up if she's feeling balanced enough, and if she acts like she's going to kick her own butt she'll end up kicking me in the groin in the process.”

Again he nudged me to go ahead and keep going with the demo. I brought my elbow into his side, not hard, just enough to apply a bit of pressure to his side and show what he was talking about before I balanced myself, took a breath, and brought my leg up, low so that I wouldn't actually hit him, but again, just enough to keep with the demonstration.

“Very good, Ruby. Thank you,” he nodded, I'm sure appreciative that I'd been mindful not to hurt him. He moved back away from me and looked out at the other four pairs.

He let each of them start in on the technique watching each pairing carefully and occasionally amending or critiquing.

“Because this is one of our more basic moves, we’re going to just keep coming back to it until it becomes second nature,” he explained while still at my side. “I don't want any of you to freeze up in fear if anything ever does happen. I want these moves to be instinct, I want you to know that you know what you're doing,” he said.

The rest of the class continued on much like this. Throughout demos, Brian would constantly pause to answer questions and make sure everyone understood.

It was when we hit the cardio section and we're going through burpees and plank jacks and more jumping jacks than I cared to count that my throat felt like it was on fire. I had to pause in the middle of a timed set of high knees to try and quell the feeling as best I could with water.

Brian cut his glance to me, but I hid my pain well enough that he didn't say anything. I'm sure he knew though.

Just before the hour mark and the end of class he had us all go through the basic move again, making sure we still remembered, still could follow through with it before we stretched a bit and he dismissed us until next week.

“You did really well tonight, Ruby,” Brian said as he gathered his things. “And thanks for not kicking me in the groin,” he smirked.

I laughed and picked up my own bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “No problem.”

“How's the throat?” He asked as we headed out of the studio together. He locked it behind him.

“It feels fine.”

“Lying doesn't make it better.”

“It was nothing I couldn't handle,” I assured him as I shrugged on my jacket, knowing that while the sweat was drying on me I would be getting colder. I also knew what September was like here, and I wasn’t about pretending it wasn’t getting colder.

“Take care of yourself, Ruby,” he said as we trekked down the stairs of the gym. “I can tell your athletic, and that you're struggling with what happened in some way. I was glad to see you feel empowered today.”

I made a face at him as we exited the building.

“Yeah, I could tell… You just have to take what happened and learn from it. You can't keep thinking over what didn't happen or what you should've done.”

“Did something happen to you?” I asked and then covered my mouth with my hand in shock that I'd asked that. My eyes went wide and I moved my hand to start apologizing to him. “I'm so sorry,” I backtracked. “That was… you didn't ask me and now I've just… you don't have to-”

He laughed at my babbling, looking down at his shoes, before looking back up at me.

“It's okay,” he told me. “It was my sister, and I was only a few blocks away, too, and never have I felt more powerless.”

“And she's…?”

“She's fine,” he assured me. “But I started teaching the classes back on campus in Ann Arbor because of it. When I moved here I kept the classes going once I found a gym. I just felt like if I could help others what happened to her wouldn't happen to other people.”

“Guilt?” I could see that along with the other emotions quite clearly on his face.

“At first, yeah,” he shrugged. “Now it's now about empowerment. I want you and everyone I teach to feel safe in whatever way they can.”

When he said that I really felt he meant it. Brian seemed like a genuinely decent person. He seemed like he was a straight shooter, as well. He didn’t let me get away with any of the bullshit I was pulling and he also didn’t make me feel like an idiot for trying to pull it in the first place.

I didn’t know if Brian and I would become friends over the course of his class, but I was grateful that I had found his class, that it was him in charge of helping me. I genuinely felt like even if we didn’t become friends that I could trust him. I felt good about my choice to take the classes.

“And to think, I was probably on campus when you were teaching those classes,” I smiled, almost ironically. “I probably could've been better prepared if I'd paid more attention to my safety before now.”

“You went to Michigan?” He asked as we swiped our cards and climbed the stairs for the train.

“Graduated in 2014.”

“2013,” He smiled. “You were there when I taught. Sorry I couldn't have prevented this.”

“It's not your fault,” I assured him, even though I felt like he was more apologizing that it had happened and all and not necessarily taking the blame for it. “But I'm glad I found your class.”

The Northbound Red Line train was pulling up and I made to get on it, noticing that Brian hung back. “I'm heading South, but I'll see you next week, Ruby.”

“See ya, Brian,” I waved over my shoulder as I stepped on the train and headed toward the pharmacy.

I could've walked home from the gym, but I noticed that I was running low on my salve for my bruises and it wouldn't hurt to pick up some lotion while I was out. It was starting to get colder, after all, and my skin was starting to show it, too.

That night when I got home I felt marginally better about myself, but I still checked the locks twice before lying restlessly in bed until the early morning when exhaustion ruled overall and I was pulled into sleep.

[imaginedolanscribbles]

sweet

Grayson x reader

warnings: none

words: 1.922

note: after Fine i had to write something happier to cheer me up so here it is! hope ya like it! [edit: there’s now a part II for this fic!]

There is this really great ice cream place, right below your flat. It offers every flavour you can imagine and even a few you’ve never heard of before. The walls are covered in mirrors, but not normal mirrors; instead they’re all broken up into tiny squares that reflect nothing really but still make the room seem bigger than it actually is. The ceiling is painted in purple and the plushy chairs strewn around oval coffee tables are the same shade. They have actual ivy growing up around the tall windows going out to the street, and there is always movie soundtracks playing softly in the background.

To put it quite frankly: even if ice cream wasn’t your weakness, you would love to spend all your time in there, just for the pleasing aesthetic and relaxed atmosphere.

As it is, ice cream is your weakness and you live literally above the place, so it is really no surprise you’re often enough in there to befriend the owners – an elderly italian couple, Rico and Valeria. You’ve been living in the flat for about half a year, slowly getting used to living on your own and going to college and all that. By now you have a ‘usual spot’ in the Luna D’Estate and Rico knows your favourite flavours by heart. It’s a wonder you haven’t gotten fatter from all the ice cream you’ve been eating, but then you’re also stressing a lot more than ever what with exams and papers to write.

Your ‘usual spot’ is occupied today, loads of people piling in to get some ice cream and cool down from the summer heat outside. Valeria tuts at you when she spots you sitting on the windowsill but doesn’t tell you to get off, so you send her a sheepish grin and stay where you are. Rico is preparing your order – mascarpone, blueberry, and hazelnut – when the door opens and a sweaty guy steps in.

He has a skateboard tucked under his arm and is wearing shorts and a cut-off shirt. On his feet are trainers and a hideous pair of socks, pulled up his calves as far as they possibly can. You watch him get in line and pull up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. And. Okay. Those are some abs. Holy hell. You nod to yourself, impressed, and flush a little when Rico chooses just that moment to hand you your ice cream.

“Thank you”, you smile and Rico nods with one of his signature wide smiles, eyes as dark as olives, skin crinkling around them as his bushy, grey eyebrows wriggle, before he turns back to the next customer.

You tuck one of your legs up onto the window sill and take up the tiny plastic spoon that comes with your ice cream. Only when you’ve put one spoonful of blueberry ice cream into your mouth do you look up again, and notice two brown eyes watching you. Skateboard guy notices you catching him staring, and he pulls his lips into an easy smile, pearly white teeth flashing cheekily as he nods politely. He has a ridiculous earing dangling from his left ear.

Your mouth curls around your spoon into a responding grin without you tellling it to.

When it’s skateboard guy’s turn to order, he asks for “mango and Nutella, please”. You’re unable to hide your snort in your ice cream.

He doesn’t even look surprised, just turns halfway into your direction and cocks his head to the side with a challenging smirk, while Rico goes off to fetch his order. “You got something to say about my taste?”

“You call that taste, do you?”, you retort and his smile widens. He takes his ice cream from Rico and pays, and you half expect him to leave. But no, skateboard guy takes the few steps in your direction and looks at his ice cream. He pulls his forehead into an exaggerated frown as he stares at it in mock doubt.

“You mean, Nutella and mango don’t taste good?”

“Well, separately they do”, you shrug, taking another spoonful of your slowly melting ice cream. “They don’t belong together, though. That’s just a fact.”

He chuckles lowly and drops his skateboard, catches it under his foot so it doesn’t roll away, and extends a hand to you. “I’m Grayson.”

You look at his hand, startled for a moment, before dropping your spoon and taking it in yours. His hand is warm and big enough to almost totally engulf yours, his grip sure and firm. “Nice to meet you, Grayson.”

He nods to the space next to you on the windowsill and lifts his eyebrows questioningly. You pull your knees in a bit to create some more space for him to sit down, and he takes the invitation, leaves his skateboard underneath the both of you and swings himself up on the windowsill.

“It seems to me you might have a problem with unconventional choices”, he teases you as he starts spooning his ice cream, throwing you amused glances from out of the corner of his eye.

“Mixing ice cream flavours badly is ‘unconventional’ now, is it?”, you shoot back and look pointedly at the orangey and chocolatey mix he is eating.

He shrugs. “Yeah. It’s not vanilla and chocolate, after all. I’m thinking outside the box here.”

You choke a little on your ice cream at his overly dramatic tone as he lifts his spoon in front of his chest, like some roman emperor would his sword. Grayson smiles in an accomplished way, his eyes lingering a second longer on your face before he turns back to his ice cream.

“What’re you having, anyway?”

“Uh”, you look down at the almost empty paper bowl in your hands. You actually have to think for a moment before you remember what flavours you picked today. “Blueberry, hazelnut and … mascarpone.”

Grayson freezes for a moment, looking at you expectedly like he’s waiting for you to start laughing and telling him it’s a joke. When you don’t do that, a laugh breaks out of him, loud and easy and bright, basically bursting out of him in waves. “You serious?”

You try hard not to blush. Damn. How can he be absolutely ridiculous and this attractive at the same time? “Sure.”

That laugh again. He shakes his head and scoops a huge spoonful of ice cream up. “And you’re trying to tell me how to mix flavours?”

“Hey”, you protest and nudge his thigh with your knee lightly. He is almost too warm to touch what with all the humidity in the air. “I have great taste.”

“Sure”, he repeats your words from before, and smushes ice cream over his cheek when you nudge him again, making him resolve into small giggles.

You end up talking for another half hour, until he realizes the time and curses under his breath. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go. I promised my brother I’d be skateboarding for just an hour or so.” When he pulls his phone out, he grimaces and starts typing a message.

“No problem”, you shrug and there really is no disappointment, even though there is now tension twisting your stomach up into knots. Goodbyes are always awkward, as a rule – goodbyes to strangers even more so, of course, but the most awkward is if you maybe, probably, possibly would like the chance to run into someone again but you’re not sure the other person wants the same.

“Oh, here”, he says when you make to get down from the windowsill and holds his hands out to help you. You could climb down on your own, of course, but you’re not about to pass up this opportunity to hold his hand again. You end up accidentally landing on his skateboard with one foot, and his grip tightens when he feels your balance slip. “Sorry.”

You shrug when he lets go of you and picks up his board, words temporarily wiped from your brain at the sudden proximity to him. Grayson holds the door open for you and you step outside, blinking into the warmth of the afternoon-sunbeams.

“So”, Grayson says when the door falls shut behind him. There aren’t many people walking around you, despite the weather being this nice. He shoots you a lopsided smile and balances on the balls of his feet awkwardly. Strands of caramel coloured hair are falling into his face, almost reaching his eyes, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it even though your hands are itching to push them back for him.

“So?”, you ask and look up at him expectantly. While you were sitting, you didn’t really notice, but now that you’re standing in front of him, the height difference is definitely there. Your forehead is about where his chin is, on which he actually sports a scar, as you notice now.

He hesitates for a second like he has to pull himself together. “You wanna do this again?”

“What, criticising some poor, random guy’s ice cream flavour choices?”, you tease. Then, focusing hard on keeping your eyes on his, since your first instinct is to avert them and fidget nervously, you admit: “Actually, yeah. I’d love to.”

Grayson’s smile widens, dimples pressing into his cheeks. “Perfect.”

He pulls out his phone and lets you type in your number and name, then calls your phone so you have his number as well and shoves his phone back into his pocket with a nod. His skateboard is still resting under his arm and he makes no move to actually leave.

“Sometime next week good for you?”, he asks, eyes mapping out your face like he has all the time in the world, despite his words from earlier.

“Should be, yeah”, you confirm and stay put firmly, when he takes half a step towards you, his chest almost brushing yours now. His lips look all soft and pink up close like this, and you can see where stubble is growing on his jawline, making it appear even sharper. He has a freckle on the left side of his chin, right by the scar.

“I’ll text you then”, he says, rooted to the spot like he has absolutely no intentions of leaving.

“Sounds good”, is all you can reply. You feel a bit seasick, like you’re swaying on your feet towards him. He smells like sun and heated concrete and sweat, and it’s making your head spin. That space between neck and collarbone would fit your hand perfectly to pull him down, just a bit … you want to run your finger over that scar on his chin, just to find out if it’s rough or all smooth skin.

“Or you can text me, of course”, he goes on. His voice is quiet, like he doesn’t intend anyone to hear his words.

By now you’re breathless enough, for your voice to have essentially given out. “Okay.”

Your eyes flicker up from where they’d been focused on his lips and for a moment you just meet each other’s eyes. Then he bends down, closes the last centimetres and covers your mouth with his. The sun is warm on your skin, there’s a light breeze playing with your clothes, a hand anchoring you where he touches you lightly at your waist, the smell of skin and heat in your nose, and soft lips pressed against your own, tasting sweet and still cool from the ice cream.

Maybe mango and Nutella aren’t such a bad mixture after all.

Part II: smiley

Masterlist

[etihw]

yo i got a question, why/how are your original character designs so consistently excellent??

AAAAAAAaaaaa!! o(*≧□≦)o Thank you so much!!

I less design my OCs to look good and rather, try my best to design them around their personalities and backstories if you know what I mean? I apologize I’m probably going to go on a bit of a ramble here with little to no knowledge of design because I really love my OCs;

Edit now I’ve actually written all of this: ITS SUPER LONG IM SO SORRY

Like, for example, Neta’s design is based all around looking warm and making her look short. She’s the start of her plot, always kind and helpful. Somewhat impulsive (extremely impulsive at times really). She’s also a somewhat abstract detective too. So for her I gave her a warm palette for her personality, also a really long coat because characters wearing long drapey clothing like the trench coat that covers most their body seems to make characters look smaller to me? I went with the boots for the same reason.

On the other hand, her girlfriend Fuyu (excuse the old art I’ve not drawn her recently) is different because of this. Their colours are blue in hues because she’s like a “Cool untouchable” looking person, since her character has a job based in fame. Her outfit while it had to be something water-based for plot reasons, could of quite easily been a wetsuit. It’d of been less sexually appealing though and that’s not in her personality. She’s the type of person to exploit people she doesn’t know by using her charm, and showing off her legs (which are muscular! but i cant draw that properly yet), and having her long, flowing and glowing hair is meant to make her look enchanting too. 

On the other hand! An extra point about Fuyu, I tried my best to show her casual personality in her look too, with a puffy blue jacket from her girlfriend and the way her hair hangs limp and in her face outside of water is supposed to show a sort of down-to-earth look to her too.

Hahahaha, not sure if I’ve pulled that off though.

I say the most important part of character designs is trying as much as possible to put a character’s personality and history into their design.

I give shy or cool standoffish characters mostly blues and cooler colours to show how not-fiery their personality is. The lighter the colours, like pastels, the more likely the person looks cheerful or happy or innocent (the except for this is when a character uses white and are used for bad guys, probably in an attempt to show off how ‘blank’ their feelings are). Greens are mostly kind, nurturing people, like nature. Pinks and yellows are for more happy carefree people (while writing this I realize Tokyo MewMew is a really good example of using colours to show personality)

Is your character non-confrontational? Draw their body language inwards, have them hunching their shoulders, holding their hands close to their chest and their legs closer together too. Have them avert their eyes a lot from the camera or be just-off from looking at the person. 

On the opposite hand, a character with a loud boisterous personality that would confront people a lot, have them look directly at the person they’re looking at if they are, they’d almost be looming over other people. Definitely not hunching. They’d probably use their arms and body language a lot more to talk to people in order to express themselves better. Draw them with their arms more spread out too! Open, maybe even slightly claw-like unless they’re angry or intending to punch someone.

I don’t think I draw confrontational characters a lot actually.

The next thing you need to think of which is really important is their nationality.

Biologically wise and how they were raised too.

Now, I know that people say you need to add more variation in skin colour and nationalities to your OCs, but they’re your OCs. Circumstances may make them all from the same country. For example if you have something based in Japan, obviously more of your characters are going to be Japanese. You might worry this won’t give you variation, but don’t worry! If you do it right then despite them all being japanese- heck, they could all have black hair and black eyes- you could still make them completely different.

I find showing nurture is just as important as showing everything else.

My earlier OCs show a lot less of this. One of them, a character called Dannie (I can’t find her right now) I made in middle school, has a look that is different from their past, from their nurture. Her clothes show her as a tough person, a crop top with a popped collar, an exposed stomach, dirty jeans. Spiky hair done up in a ponytail. Sharp red eyes. All of this shows a somewhat rebellious child in her looks, but her personality isn’t really like that at all. I’ve hopefully improved by then!

One of my favourites of diversity and character design I did are the six main characters from my Haven story. Though they don’t have names yet (and honestly, I’m using colours for their names so often they might as well be), the most important part of them are their personality showing in their looks.

The first one, orange haired, eyes averted, wears a thick coat and a scarf in any weather is me trying to express they’re trying to hide and cover themselves up. 

The second one, the white one, uses blues and whites in order to seem colder, with unnaturally yellow eyes to put the casual person off even further. They also have extremely formal wear with layers of clothing that are also rather traditional compared to everyone else. Most of her design is trying to show how anti-social everything about her is. 

The third, the yellow guy is sort of portrayed to be a delinquent. In most Japanese culture that I know of, males with dyed blonde hair are seen as delinquents. His sleeveless jacket is also there to show how rebellious he is (honestly, who wears a sleeveless jacket? they’re so impractical). Actually, while I’m on about him being impractical, if you look closer everything he wears is impractical. His roots are showing, he has a turtleneck under under the shirt which is under a jacket. The heck? That’s because when you get to know him he’s actually a really awkward person who just doesn’t know how to express himself so resorts to blustering a lot.

The fourth one is honestly my favourite. Pink, despite being the prettiest, the most popular, and even a cheerleader, is actually the main fighter of the group. Her body language is supposed to show confidence and show off her muscles proudly despite being a female. I used pinks and pastely colours to attempt to show off how cheerful she normally is. 

The fifth is supposed to be the opposite of her despite dressing similar. The hair is in a ponytail but it’s cut straighter and more conservative. They’re both wearing jackets but despite that one has their sleeves rolled up while the other has theirs zipped up (and if the hands were showing, they’d have long sleeves too). The darker and more purple colours are supposed to show some sort of maturity but also I was trying for some detachment.

The last one with the grey is honestly the easiest of them all, The hair is messy, their jacket is a mess, they’re wearing goggles, and feathers. Everything about them is designed to be ‘wild’ and practical but still somewhat civilized. They’re also the most confrontational of the bunch! 

Ah I totally went on, and I could of gone on longer too if I thought you wanted to hear a whole essay on how much I love my characters. o(*≧□≦)o

Maybe I should draw you something sometime? (●´ω｀●)ゞ Ehehehehe..

[mabelmadnessss-blog]

Impulse 13 - Panic

Impulse 12 - Satin Lips

Harley jumped out of her skin when she heard the gun shot ring out. She was currently laying in the bath, trying to soak away her thoughts. She knew the shot came from the Joker, he was pissed and obviously used violence to express it. She wasn't surprised, though Harley did secretly hope that he'd shot Hutch, she'd never wished death on another human being before but he was an exception.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the bedroom door open. The Joker had entered, it sounded like he was smashing glass and furniture. Cursing under her breath, Harley sank back into the tub. Just when things went quiet, she heard him shouting on the phone. "I don't care! Just get your ass over to the club right now! We have the fate Sammy boy to discuss."

Sam? What? Sam from Arkham, the creep that asked me out every damn day for a whole week, that Sam?

She sat still in the bath, listening to banging and things being broken and thrown across the room. Harley then heard the Joker muttering to himself "Boyfriend, don't make me laugh, the only thing that he could ever pull would be a door handle."

She had no idea what he was going on about, but she giggled a little. His footsteps came closer. Knowing he was going to come in, she gathered all the bubbles from the bath over her body, trying to keep some dignity. The door creaked open, J didn't even look at her, but she saw him. Anger plastered all over his face with a shine of sweat on his brow. He was dressed in a suit, blood clinging to his knuckles desperately. He must have smashed something with his fist. Despite his disheveled look, he looked Damn fine. His shirt was purple, unbuttoned slightly but still fitting him like a glove. He wore a silver blazer over the top, with thick golden chains hung around his neck paired with equally big rings on his bone white fingers. It would of looked tacky on anyone else, but he pulled it off perfectly.

He lent over the sink to the mirror, slicking his hair back and straightened his jacket. The Joker ignored her the whole time he was in there, he was still pissed about earlier but she could see that something else had bothered him. Just before he left the bathroom, He smirked and glanced briefly over his shoulder at her, then slammed the door behind himself.

"Silent treatment is it? Fine two can play at that game. You stupid jerk." Harley muttered.

After her long soak, she stepped out the bath and wrapped herself in a fluffy green towel. It was just the comfort she needed. Opening the bathroom door she saw the destruction he had caused, clothes scattered all over the floor and bed, with cologne bottle smashed against the wall and soaked into the carpet. Among all the mess she saw a little note on the bed.

'Gone out. This room better be tidy when I come back, and you better still be here. - J '

"Charming." Harley scoffed.

Picking up one of his clean shirts on the floor, she dressed. This shirt was a metallic black colour and fitted her better than the other one. Pulling her hair up into a scruffy ponytail, she begun to clean the room. She took this opportunity to have a nose around. Walking over to his dresser, she saw various tubes of hair gel, lipstick and a small black box which contained his jewelry. Pulling open the draws she saw a range of weapons, a gun, quite small but no doubt powerful. Four identical knives, a grenade, two green bottles with 'J-Tox' written on them. Obviously his infamous Joker toxin. There was another knife, but this one had an Ivory handle.

Harley was tempted to remove all these object for her own safety, but decided against it. He'd go even more ape shit if he found out she had been snooping. After the room was tidy, her stomach started to rumble, it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't eaten since she arrived.

"I could eat a horse." Harley groaned. She wondered if she was allowed to leave the room, but her hunger was so powerful that she just didn't care. Harley walked down the stairs cautiously, checking if there was anyone around. But it seemed as though everyone had gone out, probably something to do with the Joker's phone conversation.

Now in the kitchen, she scanned the fridge for food. Laying her eyes on some eggs, tomato and cheese, she brought them over to the counter and made herself a huge omelette. Taking the plate over to the lounge, she sat in front of the smashed T.V

Bored, she finished her food and washed up. Before leaving the kitchen, she noticed a small black pistol sitting on the bar stool. Curiosity got the better of her and she picked it up. Testing the weight in her hands, she couldn't help but notice how natural it felt, like it belonged under her power. Inspecting the weapon, she took off the safety catch and cocked it back, aiming at the door. Acting like she knew what she was doing, her finger was twitching on the trigger, she didn't want to fire it but some natural instinct told her to. Her finger ran over the trigger and pulled. The shot was fast, the kick was slight not as much as she'd expected and the rush was amazing.

That was incredible.

She laughed at the fact that a tiny weapon like this could end a life. That if someone walked through the door right now, she could kill them instantly. Harley watched the smoke rise from the barrel, dancing in front of her face, she was hypnotized. She moved the gun closer, running the barrel from her chin, down her neck to her collar bone. It was still hot, but not unbearable. Bringing it back up to her jawline, she played with the trigger guard. The power she felt was immense, in this moment she was at her own mercy. She didn't want to kill herself but being both the victim and the threat to her own life...Felt like freedom. Coming out of her trance, she gasped and threw the gun on the floor, and it slid under the bench out of sight.

What's happening to me?

Running out of the kitchen back to the Joker's bedroom, she fell hard on the bed. Tears streaming down her face. What she'd felt was wrong, but at the same time, it felt so right?

The King of Diamonds club was busy when the Joker entered, most of his clientele were old men with money, looking for a good time with the girls that Joker hired on a Friday night. He had no interest in the urges that normal men felt towards women, but he did with Harley... He wanted her so badly it hurt, and he was sure that she knew this.

When he entered the club with his men, they all dispersed into their own booths while Joker sat in his regular one. He didn't have to wait long for Jerry to arrive. He quickly approached, clutching a file tightly in his hands.

"Good evening Jerry, have something for me I see?" J asked, eyeing up the item.

"Yes boss, all the files related to the Arkham break out case and Harley's kidnap." He slapped the folder on the table.

"Good. And Sam?"

"He's being handled. All his details are in the file." Jerry said.

"Good work, you seem to have redeemed yourself... Which is a shame, because I felt like a kill tonight." J smiled, tilting his head to one side.

"Sorry about that Boss. I wanted to tell you before you heard it on the news, but I was being interviewed by the GCPD. They suspect someone under your employ has been working on the inside. But they don't suspect it's me." He told him.

"Good." J nodded.

"And Boss, not only is Sam pretending to be Harley's man, he's also selling his story to the papers." Jerry said, jittery with the new information that he had gathered.

Joker growled and slammed his fist on the table, his eyes turning foggy. "I want him brought to me. Alive, understand?"

"Y-yes boss."

They continued with their discussion over Arkham and the police investigation. It looked like they had no new leads and Batman hadn't made his involvement known yet, but all in good time. The first 48 Hours in an abduction case were crucial and it seemed, with the first 24 over, the police still weren't any further into finding them. They had focused too much on Sam's lies and Dr Leland's analysis of the Joker that they forgotten about the real joke here. He had escaped straight out the front door, and no one stopped him.

Later that night the Joker returned, stinking of alcohol and stumbling through the door. All the other Henchmen were back at their own homes. Still furious with Harley, he wandered into the kitchen to find some more drink. He threw the file on the counter and pulled some whiskey out of the cupboard. He lent against the side, drinking straight out of the bottle. J squinted his eyes when he saw a bullet hole in the kitchen door. He slowly paced towards it and ran his finger over the burnt surface. He glanced down to the floor, seeing a pistol lying under the bench. There was no blood so he knew no one had been shot, at least not in the kitchen.

"Shit, Harley!" Joker breathed. Dropping the whiskey bottle on the floor, it smashed around his feet. He picked up the gun and ran upstairs, scanning the floor for blood. but still nothing.

Reaching his room he busted the door open. "Harley!?"

A sigh of genuine relief escaped his lips when he saw her stretched out over the bed, one arm under her head and her legs tangled in the bed covers. Dropping the gun on the floor, he knelt on the bed. Facing her now, he watched her sleep peacefully, her lips were slightly parted and she breathed deeply. He saw that her eyelids were red. She'd definitely been crying again.

Stupid Girl.

Somehow he'd ended up having 'feelings' for this blonde in his bed. He didn't love her, he didn't know what he felt, but it wasn't love, no, no, no, the Joker doesn't love. Conflicted by his thoughts, he gave her a sharp backhand to the face. Joker then grabbed her neck, pinning her down and climbing on top of her. She cried out, in a mixture of shock and pain, struggling against his body.

"You put a bullet through my fucking kitchen door!" He yelled.

Harley gasped at his presence, and the looming stench of alcohol. "How did you-? It was accident, I swe-swear."

"How did it feel Harley? Huh? firing a gun, releasing a bullet, how did it feel in your hands?" J asked, leaning closer.

"It felt-"

"Speak up!" He shouted.

"Incredible, it felt Incredible." Harley countered back, with wide eyes.

Releasing his grip on her neck, Joker placed each of his hands either side of her head. "Tell me about it." He whispered.

"When I touched it-" Harley gasped. "When I felt its weight in my hands, it - it felt natural, like it was made to be held by me." She searched his eyes for any clue to what he was thinking, but nothing. "And that's when I took the safety off... I cocked it back and aimed it at the door... then I, then I shot."

"How did it feel?" Joker asked, leaning down. He placed his lips on her neck and began tugging at her skin kissing gently. She moaned at his touch and his change of mood.

Gathering her thoughts and closing her eyes against him, she continued. "Empowering, it felt like in that one shot, I was free." J's left hand ran down her body to her waist. His lips were now moving up to her ear, biting and sucking his way up her jawline. She rolled her head back in bliss.

Why does something so bad feel so good?

"Then?" He asked between kisses.

"Then, I saw the smoke rise up from the gun." She gasped again. "I pressed the hot barrel onto my skin, pressing hard and dragging it down my neck. Then - then back up under my chin. It hurt but in a good way." She groaned. "My finger curled round the trigger, wanting to pull."

Jokers head shot up immediately. "What!?" He grabbed her face in both hands and searched her eyes, he soon realised he wasn't looking at Harleen Quinzel's face anymore. He was looking at Harley Quinn's...even if she didn't know it yet. Scared by his reaction, tears began to slip from the corner of her eye.

"Don't you ever do that again! Understand me!? Not to yourself, never to yourself... Not unless I say so."

[it-was-not-the-cat]

Questions 1-99.

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?Heaven - PVRIS, What's Wrong - PVRIS, Walk Alone - PVRIS, Winter - PVRIS, I Like Me Better - Lauv, Now or Never - Halsey2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?The lead singer of PVRIS, probably. I'll be seeing her in February, but not technically meeting her. 3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.I don't have a book near me at all, haha4: What do you think about most?"Where the hell is my cat?"5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?"I'm home" This was literally 2 days ago HHAHAHA6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?With7: What’s your strangest talent?I honestly have no idea. I'm not that good at strange things haha8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)Girls are pretty; Boys are icky.9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?Nope.10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?I honestly don't know haha.11: Do you have any strange phobias?GRASSHOPPERS 12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?Hah, funny story, a rock once. Got a bloody nose because it was stuck and had to go to the doctor to get it removed.13: What’s your religion?I don't really follow any religion.14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?Coming inside.15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?Wayy behind it.16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?PVRIS, hands down.17: What was the last lie you told?I'm going to vacuum today.18: Do you believe in karma?Sometimes, I guess.19: What does your URL mean?When I used to self harm, I would tell people that it was just a scratch from the cat, but that was a lie. It was not the cat.20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?Greatest weakness is probably saying no to people. Greatest strength is being lazy. 21: Who is your celebrity crush?Demi Lovato and Lynn Gunn22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?Nope. 23: How do you vent your anger?I just get in my own little bubble and just get angry at everything or shut everyone out. 24: Do you have a collection of anything?Rocks and shot glasses from my travels.25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?Chatting online. Not necessarily video chatting, just like messaging. 26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?\I'm a lot happier with myself than I used to be. But I have a long way to go before I'm completely happy with myself. 27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?I hate hearing people chew and swallow. I love Jasper's purring. 28: What’s your biggest “what if”?"What if I never started cutting?" 29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?Ghosts- YES, Aliens - no.30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.Right arm - coffee cup. Left arm - wall. 31: Smell the air. What do you smell?It just smells like the air? I kinda smell the coffee next to me. 32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?South Side, St Joe.33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?East Coast34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?Tim McGraw. 35: To you, what is the meaning of life?Just to be freaking happy.36: Define Art.I don't even know. 37: Do you believe in luck?Mmm, sometimes?38: What’s the weather like right now?It's fall, cold and windy, but like perfect. 39: What time is it?1:33 pm40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?Yes, I drive. I've never like gotten into a wreck, but I've hit 3 deer...41: What was the last book you read?My textbook for my Psych of Communications class. Hah, we read it cover to cover. 42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?I don't hate it, but it's not my favorite. 43: Do you have any nicknames?Mac.44: What was the last film you saw?How The Grinch Stole Christmas while I was babysitting.45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?I have a lot of problems with my back and hips. I wouldn't really think of it as an injury because it wasn't caused by anything in particular, but it is definitely something that hurts like a mf.46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?Yeah.47: Do you have any obsessions right now?My cat. 48: What’s your sexual orientation?GAYYYY49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?Yeah that I was a lesbian back in middle school. I didn't know I was a lesbian then, but ayyy.50: Do you believe in magic?I really don't know for sure. 51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?Yeah, but like I'm not like absolutely horrible toward them. I just don't forget what they did to me. 52: What is your astrological sign?Libra53: Do you save money or spend it?Both.54: What’s the last thing you purchased?Blockus.55: Love or lust?Love!56: In a relationship?YES :)57: How many relationships have you had?Serious relationships? 2. Stupid middle school relationships? like 4.58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?Yeah.59: Where were you yesterday?I just stayed at the apartment all day. 60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?A headband, tweezers, and my backpack.61: Are you wearing socks right now?Nope.62: What’s your favourite animal?Currently, giraffe.63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?HAHAHA my what to what64: Where is your best friend?Sitting right next to me :)65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.secrets-written-in-my-skin, h--e--r--o--i--n--a, lesbian-and-lesbian-, take-a-look-to-my-life, sheekeepsmewarm66: What is your heritage?Uhh, American?67: What were you doing last night at 12AM? Allie and I were playing games.We were probably playing Snakes and Ladders.68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?wut.69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?Hell yeah.70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?Yeah, honestly I would like to have me as a friend. 71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?I would try to help the dog, but also call someone to help and then explain to my boss what happened. If it was my boss I have right now, she'd be understanding. 72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?Oh yikes. I would probably tell people it was happening. I would definitely travel with whatever money I had left and I would be absolutely terrified. 73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.Love. 74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?Don't Be So Hard On Yourself - Jess Glynne75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?I would prefer not to put that out there. 76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?You should probably like, love the person. But also being able to be yourself around them. And being able to silently sit in the same room, doing separate things, and still enjoying it and not finding it awkward. 77: How can I win your heart?Bring me food.78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?It can, but for me it just brings anxiety. 79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?To start talking to Allie off anon. 80: What size shoes do you wear?Anywhere from a 7.5-8.5. It depends on the brand/shoe. 81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?Just the normal thing, birth date, death date, and like "daughter, wife, mother, etc"82: What is your favourite word?Probably fuck or shit?83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.Love.84: What is a saying you say a lot?"I love him" (I say "him" funny and I say it about my cat.) or "Listen, Linda".85: What’s the last song you listened to?Jolene - Dolly Parton.86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?Currently, purple and turquoise/teal.87: What is your current desktop picture?A colorful space thing I designed on a website.88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?My old manager. He was such a dick. He made me hate my job so much that I would get insanely anxious before going in and then I'd call in. 89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?Uhmm... I don't really know. 90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?Freak the fuck out, scream, wake up Allie, grab my cat, and leave. 91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?Oooh, umm to see the future?92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?The first time I met Allie in person.93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?The part of my life that I never talk about.94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?They are all way out of my league. 95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?Ireland.96: Do you have any relatives in jail?Not that I know of.97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?Probably when I was little, but not that I know of. 98: Ever been on a plane?Yes! 99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?"uhh..."