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cato-of-blamesociety · 9 months

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32 Weeks Tracklist/Song Picks pt. 4 (weeks 25-31)

How/Why did I choose/chose to use the songs I did

*Full breakdown, updated in real time(weekly)*

25. Mood 4 Eva x Beyonce ft. Jay-Z, Childish Gambino, Oumou Sangare

Yooo!! We have arrived to the final videos of the project. I don’t know how you feel, I hope that you feel…well idk understood?? If you are of my flesh and blood family, I hope you feel heard, validated, celebrated, and overall loved. If you are a follower, I hope you feel connected to me and my work. If you are a person who just happened to stumble upon this…(yeah right), but if so 😉, I hope you visit, and revisit all the aspects of this project and find that you are just like me; human AF!! I had to do one for my mama y'all. So this will sort of a shout out to film by Beyoncé, “Black is King”. Now for those that don’t know, or haven’t had a chance, the movie is basically like it’s own telling of “The Lion King” but with amazing colors, outfits, nod to spirituality, highlights of life, and more. I fell in love with the story/narrative that we are “Simba” finding our way, and even though we get lost, our ancestors, loved ones, and elders are guiding us, covering us, and wishing the best for us. On a another level, I view it as Beyoncé's love letter to her son, but I also interpret it as a metaphor that the Divine Black Goddess(not Beyoncé) but the spirit of life/love/nurture/nature, BIG feminine energy is here for me and always has been. Each visual has amazing imagery, and the music is phenomenal. The African artists, and influences make the album feel like its our DNA. With that being said, I knew after writing to “Cuff It”, I would return to another Beyoncé track. I was leaning towards something off "Renaissance", "EVERYTHING IS LOVE", or "The Gift". "Renaissance" had so many picks, but really, none that I really attached to, and could write something meaningful. "EVERYTHING IS LOVE", well….actually, never mind that for now. We will be back to talk about it in about 5 more posts (I really didn’t think I was going write to anything on that album). “The Gift” had so many bangers. Initially I attempted to create something to “BIGGER”. The actually song moves me to tears when I think about; how much my wife does, and more recently, how I’m endlessly exhausted being in this process. I hummed some sh*t, but nothing actually stuck. “Find Your Way Back” was another that I could freestyle to, but nothing that I thought I use for #32weeksMixtape. OMG…”Already”!!?? I couldn’t…I just couldn’t disrespect that mf like that haha. “Waters”, “My Power”, and “Scar” are all inviting but for whatever reason, “Mood 4Eva” just felt more like me. As soon as I gave myself to idea of it, the words came to me. I knew it would be about my amazing mother. She has gotten even more full of grace over the years, more understanding, and I would dare say, more loving. Anyway, Mama, I highly doubt you will ever see this, but I want to say it again just in case. I love you so much. I sincerely appreciate your guidance, your light, and commitments to the development of your children.

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26. Calling x Metro Boomin ft. Swae Lee, NAV, A Boogie wit da Hoodie

Sooo, just a reminder and to avoid redundancies, please 👉🏾check out the blog posts for weeks 17-24, specifically week22👈🏾 to get background info on my search throughout the "METRO BOOMIN PRESENTS SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SOUNDTRACK". I want to jump right in. "Calling" was written after my youngest sister, Neisha, confided in me about a dilemma. I want to say(can't remember for certain) she was very embarrassed or at least wanted to keep that dilemma confidential. I thought based on prior info, that the situation had changed for her, but basically she made it known that it never did. I wanted her and my other sister, Deonna, that I was one that can always be trusted with any info, because I know the value of being that special ear, and heart for others. That's really what the track is about. The original line opening the verse was; "I'm your brother, your motherf*cking brother...' but I felt that was too aggressive and since it was a spider track, I wanted my children to be able to hear it. When I say, "I truly get it, I get to my core..." it's a reference to understanding how hard it can be to tell the people we love the most, the truth about who we are. For me, it was telling my mom after over 20years of going to church, that I no longer believed /followed Christianity. It was big deal for Mama. She thought she did something wrong but as a person who is seeking truth, and wanting to find freedom in this life, my beliefs and journey took me down a different path. The line about wearing a mask to cover shame...whew chile!! That one carries so much weight. Shame is something we all try to avoid, and as a fellow(rather former) mask wearer, I know when people have those barriers up. We think they protect us(THEY DON'T), but really embracing that shame, or confronting it(by being open, honest, and vulnerable) we learn to let it go. When we let shame go, we become stronger. Gwen Stacy takes off her mask(honest, confronts shame) and it literally saved her and her father's life! As a person who is trying to become a better version of themselves, I recognize that it takes time for folks to attain that level of honesty. Sh*t, there are things I still need time for as well. I think I touch on this in the video description, but, I wanted the video to show Peter B. Parker as the 'brother'. Gwen bonded with him and Miles (and the other spider people) in the previous movie. Peter is the OG, who taught Miles, but in the end, learned from him. He becomes a father, he is a great friend( to even Miguel, who is obviously hurt in ways that can't be seen) and overall when Peter enters the room, you feel the sigh of comedic relief. I see myself as Peter and my sisters as Gwen. Peep the video where I say "I'm the one that you can trust" and it's a quick reminder that Peter has felt the same way Gwen does. At the end of the film, Gwen appears outside of Peter's window...she is literally "Calling" him for help. Deonna and Deneisha, if you see this, I hope you know you can call me WHENEVER, for WHATEVER! I hope you enjoy the visuals and the song!!

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27. Rebuke x KAYTRAMINÉ

Ok, so I will attempt to keep this one brief! Going back to phase 1, I lay out how Kaytranada was new to me(week5). Well after writing to "Grey Area", I knew I wanted to use another Kaytranada instrumental. The issue was, I didn't know where to go. I put it on the back burner...and then..some time went by and I find out that Kay and Aminé teamed up for a collaboration album; self-entitled: "KAYTRAMINÉ". Aminé is cold in so many ways. For me, I think his voice and the way is vocals come out to crispy clean get me each time. One of my favorite tracks he did was "Invincible" for the "Into the Spiderverse" Soundtrack. When that song comes on, and I am actively listening...I get goosebumps and teary eyed as f*ck. Needless to say, a full album by him and Kay had me amped. Even the first track "Who He Iz" comes in hot. Kay's production is so catchy, but makes you move, but is always f*cking weird...idk how to describe it. I just know I love it. "letstalkaboutit" is another one that I had on repeat...lets see; here is the last of my favs: "Westside", "Master P", "UGH UGH", and of course "Rebuke". I think "Rebuke" stuck with me due to its lightness. I originally had been in a place (while writing #32weeksMixtape) where I wanted to write more about my wife and I's relationship. That verse ended up in week 17: "Don't Let The Devil". The original opening lines to "Rebuke" were "Giving up? I refuse/I'm not enough? I rebuke/Letting in those types of thoughts will only sink the cruise". I go on a run about the Rugrats movie, Tom(Tommy) Crusie/Nicole Kidman and religion...and then compare our relationship to Bey and Jay....Then something at work or life in general wasn't moving as planned and I really needed to talk to my homies. I outline in the description of "Rebuke | remix" video how for a week no one I contacted picked up, called back, or responded to my texts. I know that seems dramatic, but literally I took that feeling and began writing what now is Week 27; "I been trying to keep a plus sign, but these minuses keep adding up..." Side note: During the process of recording #32weeksMixtape I did have strep. I want to say that's when this verse was written. You can hear the strain/change in my voice on week 20: "RUN | remix". This verse was so much fun. The singing of "f*ck you" just has so much power in it lol. Anyway I hope you enjoy! I hope that the video gets remixed and memed up.

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28. Wings x Mac Miller

Before I starting typing this week's blog post, I wanted to go back and revisit week 9's post first. Week 9's message, the song and the post, are fairly identical to this one. At this point you should know I am a big fan of Mac's and still bump is music on a healthy rotation. I mentioned before that "Faces" was very cringy for me but has become sort of a pacifier for my panic attacks of being overwhelmed in this process; seemingly not receiving any recognition for the work/effort/time/vulnerability I put in this project. The intro to "It just doesn't Matter", which is Bill Murray's monologue from the movie Meatballs, makes be tear up each time. The idea that I can do all this work and possibly reach that level of satisfaction I have been searching for (finding financial freedom from the music I create), or remain a broke artist that no one cares about...doesn't even matter. It really has become my mantra when I feel myself judging myself for not getting enough likes/listens/views/f*cking attention for a post or track! "Cato," I tell myself, "none of this sh*t matters anyway!". I then... and please understand this literally happened on the day I released week 28(1/18/24)...write a post on here reminding myself that I am my favorite rapper and that is a huge accomplishment. I then threw on my visuals on my tv and watch the beautiful work I had took time to create. I cried...like ugly cried. But it felt so good to remember what I have done so far. Today(1/19/24), sitting in my car before walking into work, I record a message reminding *myself* that I am dope, and that the validation is from within, not external (added to the aforementioned post). Y'all, I had to release that negative burden! Let me tell you why. Again, 28 was written to remind the homies that them not helping me out/supporting(which is all perceived through my own perspective making this feeling a distorted thought; who knows how they were actually supporting/helping me?) and that I was at the point to say "If you don't/won't/can't be here with me, for whatever reason...i am ok with it. I won't push you, I won't argue, I won't beg. Like I get it, you have other priorities." Soooo...as you recall, week 9 drops, and leading up to that release P passes. I had agreed to continue my project because I know he would appreciate the work. P understood my craft, he knew how dope of a writer I am, just like I know how dope he is. I made it a mission that when I hit week 28, I would dedicate to him. It only makes sense because once he died, that mf song sounded like I wrote it on his personal behalf. So with all that mind, I used as much footage as I could find/that I had/and others sent me. I f*cking cry while putting it all together. I post it, and...wow, crickets! I felt like on social media especially, I wasn't getting any digital love. I thought for sure that this video and subsequent snippets, because of its sentiment would at at least attract more attention because his family and friends would want to see it...right? 🤷🏾‍♂️ At this moment, I was wrong. So back to "It just doesn't matter". I froze in my tracks(1/18/24) and remembered that my brother appreciates this and that's who it was made for. That's when I re-watched my prior videos, starting with week 28. I can get swept up in the addictive feeling of being validated through social media just like the next person. Today, I know to feel what I need to, but then get my ego/pride/self out of the way. I told myself I will not drop another teaser for this video....at least for awhile, so that I can be sure my selfishness of wanting to be recognized as an artist doesn't take away from the fact that a man has died and his family/friends will never be the same. P, I love you. I'm sorry that my hat didn't come soon enough for me to wear it at your ceremony like we talked about. I wore it in the video for you. ~LLP🕊💙💙

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29. 2010 x Earl Sweatshirt

So, spoiler alert (not really) I am fairly new to Earl. I never got on board with Odd Future back in the day. I didn't understand the vibe, and felt they were too weird. So far, I regret that narrow-mindedness because I mess with Tyler for real now, and I have (listened to The Internet, Steve Lacy, and Frank Ocean) and realized I missed an era. <;<I just watched "Oldie" and now I get it. That last verse sums it up>> Either way, my intro to Earl I believe came from Mac Miller's Watching Movies. Earl is featured on "I'm Not Real"(one of my favs from that album). I then heard "Wool" I think slide across my Spotify when I had Vince Staples on random. For some reason Earl's line about " Fifties in my pocket falling out like fucking baby teeth..." had me hooked. Earl's feature on Faces: New Faces v2 is what really had me feeling like I needed to check him out seriously. The homie Brandon was also invested in my Earl education. I believe that during the #32weeksMixtape writing era, I did actually vibe through "Sick!". I don't think I had any issues with it. Earl's flow is so strange to me. It lowkey reminds me how Nas' skills are. You think they are going to rhyme a certain way, but then the bar is syncopated, or the rhyme/word you thought they would use doesn't come immediately, or at all! Earl even has this, almost slur type of delivery that I did have to get accustomed too. I got into Frank Ocean about a year and a half ago (I know...leave me alone) and that was hugely due to Dissect Podcast that I have mentioned before. Anyway, the host goes into detail about Earl's perfectly delivered verse on "Super Rich Kids". This was another reminder that I needed to check him out. Back to Sick!, On the Podcast...I can't remember which episode, it could be in the Mac Miller (s9) when they breakdown "2009". They tell the listeners that Earl and other friends of Mac's had made songs in the same manner as 2009. Earl's was 2010. SICK! by itself is fire but given the reason behind the track, and the challenge of attempting to rhyme on a weird Earl beat fired me up to write to 2010. This one is special to me, and I know I say that about all the songs on 32weeks, but this was another one I played for Paris that last day I saw him. He was f*cking with it. I had fun coming up with the string of metaphors...and my favorite one is the lines about going to outer space. I start it off with "on a rocket ship.." heading to build a colony...which is my way of saying B.L.A.M.E. will be what I said it would be. I then relay that to setting a table and even though you may not be here with me right now, it's ok if you join later..."I will save some space for you..." This line really is for Tyson. He really doesn't/didn't believe after all the times I told him, I want him apart of the movement. Take ya time, I have a place for you, and a plate for you [at the table]. "Imma add another leaf[as in add another section to the table to extend/make it longer], to make room for some New Faces. Cause back in '09..." This is what makes love this track. I tie in Mac's New Faces v2 from his Album Faces...which of course features Earl...but I also bring up 09...which is from Mac's Swimming which is why 2010 was inspired...you see the layers...but also notice that in Earl's 2010, and Mac's 2009, they are reflecting on how life wasn't as great, it was darkness before the light and the same relates to me. I was arrested in 2008, and due to how it went down, I was banned from school campus and activities. I couldn't attend my prom or my graduation. So taking all of that frustration and using it to move forward is a form of strength to me. Anyway I hope you enjoy the track and visuals.

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30. ADHD x Joyner Lucas

Ok first off, It's been a hell of a week. I have literally felt like sh*t since dropping week29. Like all the symptoms that I list in the song hit me like that morning! Like n*gga, I was sick on my mf day off! On top of that, I am writing this on a Saturday afternoon vs my Friday evening because my younger son also got sick. I express on week 24 how Elijah is energetic af. He never stops moving. When he gets sick though, he is still as a rock, and it f*cking breaks my heart. I hate when anyone in my house gets ill, but Elijah with no energy is just depressing. Today(this morning), my elementary school's basketball team I was coaching, season ended. We made it to the 2nd game of the tournament but didn't win and couldn't move forward. We ended the season with 3W-4L. I really hoped they would push all the way to the championship...there is always next year. Lastly, I have been meaning to find a way to work in updates about weight....I know "Cato why tf would we want to know that??". Truly it's for documentary purposes. I believe I already shared that #32weeksMixtape is just a leg of the process. Next project with 32weeks is the book. Everything that happened in these 32weeks is up to be discussed, my weight included. Around September, I noticed that my weight was going up...slowly but increasing nonetheless. I usually hang around 215lbs as my baseline. My true goal weight is 200lbs(which, may be impossible lol but I refuse to quit). The closet I have gotten to that goal was 207lbs. As we rolled through 2023's cold season holidays, I realized my workout regiment wasn't as consistent and I wasn't giving my all when I did workout. I definitely wasn't getting enough sleep, and my eating/snacking was out of balance. By 1/1/24, I was up to 233lbs. That's a big jump in a small amount of time. I started freaking out the first week of the new year, but then I reminded myself, "We have done this before!" I have. I started to chill with the snacks, getting back to upping my water intake, lowkey ate an apple every morning, and a granola bar for breakfast/morning snack, and have been packing my lunch with filling but low cal foods (i.e. homecooked leftovers(that hasn't changed), carrots + mini naan breads with hummus(delish), and a smaller portion of my salty bbq chips with a fruit cup/applesauce. Today, 2/3/24, I am at 223lbs! Yeah, that's right, I am down 10lbs. The last change I did was actually weighing myself each morning, and recording it. Tracking my weight is like a reminder, "Bro, we have a goal, lets not deviate."

----Ok now back to the music! This song was written when I didn't know what to write. I had already mentioned that in week 25, Joyner's ADHD album is filled with bangers. This one, just had the vibe that pulled me in. The singing I do at the beginning, "I think my pen is like eyes..." wow! That was what came to me quickly. I know I had to use it. I really did shed tears while writing alot of these songs, and the idea like Jay's "Song Cry", where he is telling you he can't see himself crying, so he has to make the song cry for him, is the premise. In the visuals I utilize Master Jiraiya because he is a renowned legendary ninja, who plays a significant role in inspiring his village and his mentee. In the end he writes his last message which is a warning for his village. That to me had me tears. RIP Master Jiraiya. I start the verse by saying, "Maybe it's my nerves, wrapping up these verses. The most I've ever written. Lately, feeling more coerced." This is truly how I felt. I felt like I had given all that I had, and that at this point I am pushing out bullsh*t. But nevertheless, the process is the process. There is a hint about my album to come in the song, "I been talking about magic, alchemy, and how I've changed, love is magic, making gold bars outta spare change". The album is inspired by my favorite novel, but I use the concept to show that we can change our world/life with love and introspection...among other things. The string of lines where I say I'm not trying to make a hit....everything in those lines tell you that type of artist I want to be to you. Allow me to be the soundtrack that drives you. Lastly, I want to end this post with a shout out to Joyner. I still don't know how involved he is with his visuals, but they are so cool. Check out his video for ADHD, and then look at how they made that sh*t. I respect Joyner's hustle out here. To the person reading this right now, I hope you know that you are loved, and I hope you never give up, no matter what your goal is!

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31. LOVEHAPPY x The Carters (Beyoncé + Jay Z)

Man...we are one away from being all done! Ok so how to describe what is going on in this song. 🤔Well, let's start with the concept. First off, this truly was the last verse written. I was thinking and reflecting on what instrumental to use. I was playing with some ideas like; Rich Flex x Drake & 21 Savage, Crazy Mood x Grind2Hard Osh'a, East Point Prayer x Vince Staples, like 3 tracks off of 'Kids See Ghosts', and Dreaming of the Past x Pusha T. But then something crazy happened. Just as the week 31's verse says, I was meeting with Tyson. It was a long drive to him but it was worth it. I was able to see his face, chit chat, share some of the new tunes (esp the last track/32). We were discussing the importance of connecting with people and having accountability for what we do. We talked about goals, and the project. I leave, and literally about 1 exit away from home I change the song on my phone(it was clicked into the phone holder on the dashboard). I look up, my exit is coming up and I was about to miss it. Had I been thinking, I would have stayed on the highway and turned around hopping back on the highway at the next exit.---Mind you, there had been a lot of construction on this portion of the highway and so there were a lot of those tall/skinny orange/reflective white cones lining the road. I swerve to make my exit. I turned too hard, and then overcorrected hitting one of those cones. It caused my driver side mirror to close into the the driver's window. The mirror shattered, the casing broke, and there was other slight damage.

The first thing I want to say is I am grateful that I didn't roll the vehicle, hit another vehicle, or injure myself. Here's the sad part that just shows how ridiculous my thinking was. Erin had been reminding me over and over for weeks to stop engaging with my phone while driving. I ignored her warnings. This happens, and I began to freak out. I don't want to let her down, but what I do next was a lame a** move. I began looking up estimates to fix the mirror...because we were supposed to take my car to Chicago for a couples getaway and to see Beyoncé live in concert(Renaissance World tour) like within the next 3 weeks. During my freak out I call her to see where she is. She says she isn't that far. I know that I was supposed to make dinner. I realized that some of the ingredients I needed, weren't in the pantry. I ask her if she could stop and grab some black beans. *I know stupid and hella manipulative*. She denies and tells me to pivot to a different meal. I couldn't tell you what I ended up making. I should have told her right then what happened...but I didn't. Fast-forward, she gets to the house and immediately begins asking what happened. I tell her then and that's how the final verse was thought up. We had a long talk about other areas I was slacking in around the house. The reason was mostly because I was deep in writing, recording, and building the concept of #32weeksMixtape.

I am so grateful that I was able to find a damn near matching full mirror and casing for under $100(and that's with the express shipping), grateful that Big Bro Dave was able to install it for me, and especially grateful that Erin still saw my heart. The line about her saying she would leave me is true. It would either be from me not listening to her(as in taking her warnings for me/her/our safety serious) or for constantly making expensive mistakes that lowkey re-traumatize her. With all the other references to us being like The Carters(week 17 for instance) I knew this verse would be written to a "EVERYTHING IS LOVE" song. There were a few contenders: "SUMMER", "BOSS", "FRIENDS", and "713". I love them all, but the way Jay Z is still lamenting about his mistakes, and tells how he had to make things right, plus the tempo and style of "LOVEHAPPY" had my brain spilling out the lyrics. My favorite lines are the quotes. Those were my takeaways; Listen and apply, just communicate when sh*t happens, make better choices or lose it all(my family or my actual life), and family comes first. I hope you don't make silly, careless, and dangerous choices like I did. I pray that you take care of yourself and live your life fully with a person whom you call your soulmate and the you experience LOVEHAPPYness. If no has told you today, I love you, and always will. Thank you for taking the time to read this. 💙💙💙

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

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The Space Between Us

Alien au? Alien au! I have no self control! Please accept this one shot that quickly spiraled into 23 pages of Virgil being a disaster in space. (If you guys enjoy it, let me know because I’m considering making it a series.)

Summary: The cosmos is a Gigantic place and somehow Virgil’s past still catches up to him.

Words: 11400

TW: Human trafficking, Human experimentation, dehumanization, fighting rings,

Quick taglist: @chelsvans @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders

Read on Ao3 || General Writing Masterlist

“Tell me again why this is absolutely necessary?” Virgil asked, watching Logan’s hands dance across the console. On any other day the sight would be comforting. Every time his digits landed on a key, his nerves glowed with sparks of multicolored light through his transparent crystal skin, creating a beautiful firework show right in front of them all. Logan had told him once it was called Lightdancing, an evolutionary adaptation of the Tenkarie people: their bodies were near invisible in dim light, and they could control the pulses of light just enough to attract other cave dwelling creatures to them before striking the killing blow.

Now, though, the sight made Virgil’s stomach churn. Logan’s lights were a calculated system that he had trained to hone better than most of his race: he could make any part of his body glow at a brightness ranging from a flickering candle light to a flood light, he could make his whole body radiate or he could make just the tip of one of his sixteen fingers, he could even change the color of the light with just a thought. Virgil had always been glad that Logan was the only Tenkarie that dared venture from their caves on L0-G1C; Logan’s kind had perfected the use lights and dancing which made all other creatures become so nauseated they couldn’t fight back or become so mesmerized by the swirling motions that they didn’t see the attacks.

(Of course, because Virgil was rather distinctly human, it took longer for either of the effects of Logan’s fighting to work, which had saved both their lives more than once.)

However, in contrast to the usual focus of Logan’s fingertips on the control panel, lights were flickering all over his body, up and down each of his four arms and burning from the notches around his neck. The lack of control was enough to make Virgil’s stomach churn.

“Because its Remus,” Roman replied, although it didn’t help that he said his brother's name the same way he might have said puppy kicker.

“And we care about Remus because....?” Virgil prompted, running his fingers over his satchel again, checking the latches to make sure they were still there, still closed, still containing the supplies within. “If my memory serves me correctly, Remus was the one that set us up to be ambushed by those space pirates the other week. You know, the ones that nearly killed Patton?”

“We care because, in Erefrenian customs, blood bonds are the most sacred of bonds.” Logan supplied distractedly. “And Remus invoked the Oath of Brothers, which means that if Roman were to ignore his call for aid, Roman’s honor would be forever stained which would prevent him from crossing to the planes of heroes after his death according to the religion of his people.”

“Yeah that,” Roman says, even less excited than Logan at the idea. The bone spikes along his spine had been secreting that red poison that usually only happened when he got annoyed or anxious. Virgil had learned quickly to stay away from him when he was like that: touching it merely made Virgil’s limbs feel pins and needles, but the Orlun thief had screamed until unconsciousness.

It was one of the (very) few perks of being a Deathworlder, Virgil supposed. Most of the things that hurt the other species out here usually had a looser effect on humans because humans rarely made it this far. In fact, it was illegal for humans to get this far by at least sixty doctrines (all of which Logan had filed away in his room).

Humans were juggernauts-- the alien versions of the boogie man told to children to keep them from acting out. Virgil had seen some of the written documents about his kind, and the tales of bloodshed and terror invoked by merely existing were pretty horrifying. Graphic depictions of humans tearing aliens limb from limb, scientific studies on the amounts of chemicals that humans had absorbed and withstood against, an interview with a survivor of a human rampage who revealed the bite marks left by the so-called beast.

Almost every species out here was just as scared of him as he was of them.

The problem came from the ones that weren’t scared.

Which, of course, was how Virgil had ended up hundreds of literal light-years from Earth, on a ship with three aliens whom he was pretty certain he would end up dying for sometime very soon. Yurinks were crafty, shameless, bold, creatures, and they were notorious for visiting Earth and abducting humans for individual sale. Weslors ran fighting rings and humans were almost always the safest bets for some quick cash. Quitans were a fan of skinwearing, which was not something that Virgil ever wanted to see, based on the name alone. And Pol’turs loved learning how things worked and paid very handsome prices for human subjects on the space black market.

Virgil, himself, had sold for 300 griot. (Which was apparently a lot, based on the way that Patton’s eyes had quite literally bugged out. Virgil was still trying to figure out the conversation ratio of American dollars to griot and getting nowhere with it.)

“I hate him,” Roman said under his breath as he threaded through the spare armored uniforms in the storage, trying to find one to fit over the rigid bone plates along his back. His tail squirmed behind him as he searched, dragging the spikes through the air. “I hate him so much.” His bone claws cut through the fabric and he growled as he tossed the ruined clothes to the floor. “We’re gonna save him and then I’m going to toss him off into space, myself.”

Logan made an affirming noise, using his lower left arm to nudge his visor back up his nose. Virgil had only caught sight of Logan’s eyes once or twice, as most light strained his sensitive eyes. They had paid a pretty griot for a repair and a spare of his light blocking visor after the first time some space smugglers had surprised them and managed to break the lens. Logan’s pained scream was the worst thing that Virgil had ever heard and he had sworn he’d do anything to avoid ever having to hear it again.

(That had been the first time that Roman and him had truly worked together on something, Virgil noted absently. Between Virgil’s uncharacteristic bloodlust and Roman’s furious wrath they had taken out the smugglers in less than five minutes and they hadn't been very nice about it.)

Looking from the back, Roman resembled a stegosaurus to Virgil. If, like....stegosauruses ran around on two legs, flourished a sword, and were prone to acting like every minor occurrence was a slight against them personally. His red-ish skin had the appearance of leather but was twice as thick, his bone plates were slimmer rounded triangles than Virgil remembered from his kindergarten picture books but they ran from the based of his neck all the way down his back and to the tips of his tail which he liked to use as a spike-ball-and-chain attack along with his ridiculous sword. Virgil couldn’t count the number of times that Roman had nearly taken him out along with the enemy. His claws were only a few inches long but Roman whined like a baby when they broke-- which was ridiculous because his bone plates literally grew back overnight, and the ones on his forearms were made to be taken off and thrown. (Logan had indeed informed Virgil that Erefren grow new bones every moon cycle and proceeded to lose the old ones which Virgil had then mentioned that humans did that too sorta! With their baby teeth! And Roman and Logan had both looked unnerved by that information.)

“I’ve got it!” A voice sang from the ceiling, which was about all the warning Virgil got before a child sized figure vaulted down from the rafters of the teleportation deck right onto his shoulders.

“Jesus! Pat!” Virgil yelled as he stumbled swaying to accommodate the new weight that had stuck itself to Virgil’s back and then wrapped around to hug his chest. “Give a guy a warning, will you?”

Patton giggled, hooking his legs around Virgil’s waist so that he could sit comfortably, swinging the two other satchels he had been sent to fetch from his hands. Roman accepted one of them readily.

“What's a Jeeezus?” Patton asked, stressing the syllables as English terms never really fit right in his tongue. As far as Virgil was aware no species were equipped to speak human languages, although Roman’s Erefren dialect involved some rolling syllables. He probably could have picked up Spanish, if Virgil hadn’t barely passed Spanish III with a C minus.

To be fair though, that year had been bad. Janus had been in his class, and then he hadn’t. And it was hard to focus on conjugation of verbs when the golden student of the entire school who had sat next to him had been declared dead and Virgil had been the prime suspect of it.

That, and Virgil was pretty terrible at picking up new languages. He had only managed to figure out how to communicate with Logan by luck: hands raised with the fingers spread was a symbol of innocence and fear for the Tenkarie, while a sign of rage and fury for Yurink. This, of course, had also been in the middle of an illegal Weslor fighting ring which Logan had been dragged into and essentially sentenced to die in after being separated from Roman and Patton.

(Virgil tried not to think too much about those days. Alien blood was still blood and it was very not-good to feel dripping from his hands, even if it was him or them, even if it had been his life on the line, even if it wasn’t another human with heterochromic eyes and smug smirk. Virgil had fought nearly six times before Logan had been his opponent, and that was six times too many.)

Regardless, Virgil was lucky that when Roman and Patton had come for Logan, Logan had remembered his reluctance to fight and insisted that Virgil come with them in an escape. Roman and Patton had their hesitations but Logan wouldn’t take no for an answer.

(And Virgil who did not understand Common, had honestly thought that Logan had come back to kill him officially. Not a good first impression.)

Logan had made him flashcards to study from and taught him common in the sitting area of their ship. The endless hours of memorization, the drills, the sentences, all of which helped him more than he thought the others knew. They were something to do with his mind and Virgil had been in desperate need of something to do with his mind those first few months that wasn’t thinking about Earth or home or boys who were dead.

“We could go to Earth,” Logan had offered once during one of their sessions.

Virgil had blinked looking up to from the practice reading he had been studying with a bewildered look. “What?” It had taken a moment for him to realize that he had spoken in English rather than Common, but Logan must have picked up on the meaning of the foreign word anyway.

“You were… badly, ah, stolen,” Logan had said, pointing at the flashcards. “We could give you back.” He had used his lower two arms to mimic the motion of handing something off.

It had been so touching, the way that he had scaled down his speech to match Virgil’s progress, had offered despite Earth being the infamous Deathworld, had been looking at Virgil like he was living being and not just some animal. Virgil had cried.

He should have wanted to go back to Earth, should have wanted to go home, but instead he had begged in his broken, garbled Common for Logan to let him stay in space with them. And Logan had glowed nearly blindingly with purple light, a relief light, a content light, a happy light and promised that he wouldn’t have to go back if he didn’t want to.

Perhaps that had been the day the Virgil had realized he’d die for Logan.

And once Virgil had decided that for Logan it wasn’t hard to decide it for Patton too. The Reytin was just so nice. Even back in those first months when Virgil didn’t know how to talk to them and Patton had been so obviously terrified of him, the alien had made sure that Virgil was eating, that he was sleeping, that he had space when he needed it. Though, Virgil really suspected that their friendship had blossomed so quickly because of Patton's rare Reytin ability to see emotions with his frog-like eyes. Once he realized that Virgil was actually terrified of everything, and it wasn’t just ploy to kill them (or maybe despite that….Virgil hadn’t gotten a straight answer from him), Patton had done his best to befriend him back to good health.

And Virgil liked being on the ship. He liked his room, which was filled with stupid alien plants he had managed to collect and the weird shapes of the bed. He liked being right down the hall from the kitchen so he could smell when Patton was cooking something, and the way that he could always hear Roman singing in his room. He liked slipping out to the observation deck and just seeing Space the way no other human really had.

(Its stupid really, that sometimes he forgot it had been three years. Its stupid really, that sometimes he still turned to ask a question of someone who was never going to be there. Its stupid really that he could be so happy and still feel the gaping hole where someone used to be.)

“Oh this is so exciting!” Patton said happily, shaking his hands in the air to show his excitement. “Isn’t this exciting, guys?”

“Exciting isn’t the word I would use,” Virgil said hoisting the smaller creature from around his waist to settle him on the floor carefully.

“More like Vexing! Or perhaps burdensome! Irksome! Problematic!” Roman snarled, finally finding the armor that would fit around his plates and slipping it on. “You know what? Let’s forget it! Remus got himself into this mess and he can get himself out!”

“Now kiddo…” Patton warned, and wow, Virgil sometimes forgot that the alien who was half Virgil's height and twice as lively, was also older than all of them combined. Reytin lifespans were literally off the chart. Patton had been around way back when humans were first declared illegal on this side of the cosmos. “You know that we can’t do that! He invoked the Oath of Brothers so we have to!”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Roman griped. “Worse case, my soul just becomes eternally damned and I’m shamed by the rest of my race until I die a lonely, lonely death on some distant planet!”

“Must you be so dramatic?” Logan asked.

“You won't die alone!” Patton said, “We’ll be right there with you! Probably even die right next to you as well!”

“No offense Pat,” Roman said glumly, “But that makes me feel like I’m gonna be the cause of your death.”

“It’ll be fun!”

Thankfully before Roman could explain exactly there was nothing fun about making all his friends die, Logan cleared his throat and made his upper two palms glow with a soft blue light. Green and pink bulbs flashed up and down his neck. “I have mapped out the perceived trajectory of the enemy ship so we should be able to beam directly into the hold. However because of possible miscalculations I believe that I should be--”

“--The first to beam aboard as I am the only one who is not affected by the lack of gaseous properties and the extreme temperatures of the expanse of space.” Roman, Patton, and Virgil chorused together.

“Must you all?” Logan asked, with just enough fondness in his tone for Virgil to know that he wasn’t actually bothered.

“Change up your speech sometime, Teach,” Roman suggested, and then he sighed dropping his head. “You guys are really willing to do this for me? These are mercenaries, you know. If this doesn’t go well they’ll likely sell us for parts.”

Virgil really didn’t need the reminder. Just the thought of once again having his arms restrained, having his clothes striped away, being reduced from a person to a thing used for entertainment, was enough to have Virgil eyeing the door back to the rest of the ship. Even on the off chance that they didn’t try to take him apart to see how he ticked, they would still sell him for griot. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, survive being thrust back into the fighting rings. He’d shake himself apart before they managed to drag him into that dust riddled death trap.

Patton reached up and tugged the edge of Virgil’s under armor tunic, drawing his eyes away from the door and down to his friend. Patton, of course, was smiling, imitating the human action of bearing his teeth (something that Logan had explained was incredibly threatening to all other species and you may want to avoid participating in that activity with Roman in the vicinity, Virgil).

It was silly things like that that make Virgil hopelessly certain that he would do anything to protect his friends. He didn’t need to worry about being caught and sold off because the others wouldn’t let that happen again, and in turn, he wouldn’t allow them to be taken away either. They were a family, for better or worse.

(He wasn’t going to lose someone again. Not like before. Not without a fight, a trace-- not without Virgil doing every single thing he could to get them back first.)

“We’ll be fine!” Patton told Roman brightly.

“Yeah, cheer up, Princey,” Virgil added, hooking his satchel over his shoulder, “Worse case scenarios are my thing.” He offered out a folded fist, palm up and Roman dutifully knocked his own knuckles against it, as an upside down fistbump (a signal of friendship in Erefrenian).

Patton let out a chittering and jumped up to knock his own knuckles with them. And Logan’s left forearms flickered pastel pink from the wrist up to his neck and he begrudgingly added his own to the pile.

“Everyone remembers their part of the plan, correct?” Logan asked, letting his two lower arms finish typing a final sequence into the control panel.

Patton sprung in the air, jumping Virgil’s entire height, and shook his palms. “I’ve got the emergency pods and the armory, using Virgil’s thingies to shut down the access to the lower rooms and blocking off escapes as I make my way to the medic bay!”

“I’ve got the crew quarters to where I’ll use Virgil’s thingies--”

“Can we not call them thingies?” Virgil grumbled. “They’re just EMPs. Barely enough to take out the door locks. And it's likely they won’t do much of anything if this group has an emergency system reboot in case of an electrical surge. It’ll buy us five minutes, max.”

“--Virgil’s thingies,” Roman repeated with his tail rattling in that way that said he took pleasure in Virgil’s annoyance. “To lock as many of the doors as I can, before travelling to the cell blocks to get my brother and his crew and move them to the medic bay where Patton will have the necessary supplies ready incase of injuries.”

“I will take the Bridge,” Logan said, “and act as the major distraction, as Tenkarie are very rare and it is likely that they will have never encountered nor have preemptive measures against my Lightdancing. Once I have control of the bridge I will cut off the communications to other ships in the area and start inputting the redirection course. Once I have the new coordinates I will send them to Virgil for him to implement.”

“I’ve got the engineering deck,” Virgil said, finally, “To make sure they don’t try to blow us all up with the warp core and whatever. Then I’ll redirect the teleporting course and get us home while the rest of you take out the bad guys. Piece of cake.”

Logan’s neck notches glowed red, “There should be no stopping for cake--.”

“Idiom,” Virgil interrupted quickly, “Human saying. Means it should be easy.”

Logan hummed musically, which sent a vibration of multicolored lights off his shoulders and down under his clothes. “Ah, interesting. This should indeed then be a piece of cake.” He picked up one of the teleportation bracelets from their charging pads and fixed it on his upper right wrist. “I’ve already added in the coordinates to the watches, so merely wait for my signal and press the button.”

Virgil would be lying if he said he didn’t have a little bit of anxiety over their plan. It was pretty slapshot compared to the things that they had put together before, but Remus’s transmission had been shoddy, even after Roman and his combined efforts to clean it up. It was hard to remember that Remus was every bit a ship captain as Roman was with how he had appeared in the picture dressed in ripped and tattered clothes, oozing green poison from his forearm plates, and bleeding profusely from a wound on his forehead. He had been leaning heavily on the communication panel, gritting his teeth through the pain, but his tail had been dancing in the air behind him in the same motions that Roman’s did when he saw a new sword to add to his collection.

Remus had invoked the Oath of Brothers, spit up blood on the console, and then relayed as much information as he could about the attacking ship. They were lucky, in that way. Most of the Pol’tur ships followed the same base model, which meant that the Bridge was always going to be at the bottom, the engines would be at the top and the engine core center would be between them.

If it was possible Virgil was sure they all would have wanted more time to make a better plan, but they all knew that Pol’turs loved to work quickly. They had already lost three days chasing after the ship, and in that time, Pol’turs could cut apart fifty Reytins like Patton.

They were working mostly on the assumption that the Pol’turs would save Remus for near last, and they were going to be absolutely fucked if they had chosen to chop up the other Erefren first.

In addition, their plan had Virgil avoiding most of the fighting. well, as much as he could while being on an enemy ship. Virgil himself wasn’t sure how he would do in a lot of combat, but they had seen what happened when one of the others were in danger (when Logan’s glasses had broken, when the space pirates had almost shot Patton through both his hearts, when the spikes had been pulled from Roman’s spine by the Quitans before the new ones had grown in--). He could fight, and he could fight well, but the cost was a little bit of Virgil’s sanity and his ability to sleep through the night.

Patton plucked his own teleportation watch from the pad and hooked it on, before offering Virgil his. Well it wasn’t really his, the same way that the red one wasn’t Roman’s and Patton didn’t own the blue one. They were all Logan’s pet projects, but he had tailored them to their favorite colors. It felt a bit like coming home when Virgil clicked the locking mechanism into place and the screen lit up with the digital alien symbols.

“I shall see you all soon,” Logan said matter-of-factly, as if he couldn’t see all the ways that their plan could go wrong. Then with barely more than a breath he clicked the activation button and his form flickered out of existence.

Roman made a nervous noise with the back of his throat, which ended up sounding a bit like the first bars of a Disney song Virgil had forgotten. Virgil gently tapped his tail with the toe of his boot, avoiding the glisten poison spikes. Roman startled just enough to laugh.

“Its funny, you know?” He said, glancing towards Virgil. “A year ago Remus told me he had taken in a Deathworlder, and I thought he was crazy. A Deathworlder? But now that I know you guys I can’t believe I didn’t get my own sooner.”

“Remus has a human on his crew?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, I wonder if you know each other!” Patton added.

Virgil bit back his original comment, and let the weight settle in his stomach. If Remus had a human in his crew there was even more of a chance that Remus was dead, because the Pol’turs had chosen to save the mysterious human for last.

“Earth is a big place,” Virgil said instead. “Like really big. They’d probably be from like Russia or something.”

At the blank stares he got, Virgil tried rewording, “We probably never have met before. Or speak the same language.”

"There's more than one human language?"

Virgil breathed through his nose, warding off a memory of rolling Rs and failed pop quizzes. "Yeah," he said, "Humans can't agree on anything."

Roman thoughtfully crossed his arms, but Patton made a chittering again and bounced, “Oh well! Now you guys are gonna meet! All the way out in space! How cool is that?!”

Virgil hid a smile in his shoulder. Trust the Reytin to find the bright side to everything.

Roman looked like he had more questions (questions that Virgil wasn't exactly enthusiastic to answer; Earth was a sore topic for him) but mercifully each of their watches let out several musical bars from Patton’s favorite song. The alien shook his palms one last time, beaming at each of them.

“Oh this is gonna be so much fun, guys!” He said right before pressing the activation button and disappearing.

“I’m so going to kill Remus for this,” Roman grumbled, one hand on his sword hilt.

And, really, Virgil agreed with him on that. Tossing Remus into the airlock and ejecting him directly into the void sounded like an excellent plan for when they got back to their ship alive and whole and safe.

“Let’s do this,” Virgil said and jabbed his thumb into the activation button.

***

Predictably, their flimsy plan fell apart within seconds of them appearing on the ship. Starting with, exactly, Virgil did not appear in or near the engineering deck. Instead he had landed approximately two feet above a box in the Cargo hold of the Pol’turian ship, which likely meant he was somewhere left of where he needed to be.

It also meant that the Pol’turs in the Cargo Hold had a grand view of his body blitzing into existence, landing on a crate, and then tumbling off it with a lot of English cursing. It was a mere matter of luck that Virgil was able to roll his body to the side just before the first BZZZTTRRRT of their blasters went off.

(There was an actual name for the guns that most aliens used, and Virgil was pretty sure that it started with a hard K sound but he had never been able to remember it. He stuck to calling them blasters in his head, and hoped somewhere back on Earth George Lucas was proud of himself.)

The Polyfurnish of the crate hissed and sizzled as it took the brunt of the attack meant to vaporize Virgil, and the human hissed another curse as his hands dug through his satchel.

One of the Pol’turs-- the deep purple one although Virgil hadn’t truly been able to catch sight of how many there were-- shouted something in its language. Probably something along the lines of “Stop”, “Surrender”, or “Kill him”. Virgil wasn’t exactly a fan of any of those options.

He had heard them before-- too many times. The hundreds of variations of the terms spat and yelled and cheered down at him, and he scrambled away from the edge of a sword, as he tasted nothing by dust and dirt as he dodged another attempt on his life, as he desperately backed away from an opponent who couldn’t understand that Virgil didn’t want to fight, please, stop, please, I’m sorry, please I don’t want to hurt anyone--

Virgil curled up as another gold blast ricocheted off the top of the crate he was cowering behind. The air was cooler here, he told himself, the air was cooler and the floor was slicker, and he was surrounded by shelves of goods. He was not in a colosseum and he was not in a fighting ring and he was not alone.

He had the others to regroup with and no time to panic over the past here and now. Virgil gritted his teeth, remembering the feel of Roman’s knuckles bumping his, the sight of Logan’s excited lights, the sound of Patton’s laughter, and then his hand wrapped around the homemade smoke bombs in his satchel.

He yanked the pins from their sockets, wound back, and launched them over the crate into the mass of where all the shooting was coming from. Almost immediately the shoots veered off course, and the cavernous room echoed with high pitched screams. Virgil ripped his turtleneck up and over his nose and then he grabbed the edges of the nearest shelf and hoisted himself to a higher area, out of the range of the low hanging gas.

It was a pale red, near pink thing: a concoction formed by Logan out of Roman’s poison that had taken them literal years to perfect. Virgil was mostly immune to it, the same way he was mostly immune to most poisons that horrified the other species. Inhaling it made his head dizzy and his limbs a little numb, which was just unpleasant enough that he tried to avoid inhaling anything when he had the chance. Other species though...they weren’t so lucky. According to Logan, inhaling it allowed it directly into the bloodstream where it would swiftly ignite all the pain sensors in the body and could make one feel like they were being stabbed everywhere at once.

(He knew this, Logan admitted, because it had taken him many times to get it right. His scientific journals recorded experiments #1 through #357 as “unpleasant” and “ill-advised” and Virgil had nearly throttled him when he discovered that Logan had used himself as a test subject.)

Using the shelves he boosted himself another level until his head was parallel with a box of what he thought were floating Welsor hearts, before he scanned the ground under him. There were three Pol’turs on the ground writhing in pain, blasters discarded, and pale smoke floating ominous above them. Their usually languid tentacles flopped up and down on the floor like a bunch of fish out of water.

The glass container next to his hip exploded, missing him by mere millimeters. Virgil cursed as he scrambled up another level, eyes darting around to find where the hell that shot came from. His armor took much of the hit but it was sizzling with heat in a way that was decidedly not-comforting.

“Up there!” Something shouted.

Another blast missed his ear and a container of Sblorp fangs shattered and sent the teeth spilling to the floor. Virgil kicked his feet through the lower shelf pushing through a crate and a dozen jars of various indeterminable body parts and squeezed his body in the place of them. The crashes on the next isle were rather satisfying.

He ripped the pin from another smoke bomb with his teeth, and felt his tongue buzz slightly as the proximity to the toxin before he launched it out at the direction of the other shooter. There was another scream and Virgil took the time to roll into the next isle and leap back down to the floor.

The gas still hadn’t cleared around the original three Pol’turs, but they had gone unconscious from the pain, with a few seizing tentacles here and there. Virgil would feel bad about it, really he would, but the last time he had been in a room of Pol’turs they had been discussing how nicely his skull would look in the centerpieces of their tables and tried to buy him for 270 griot.

His skin tingled the same way he thought it might right before he would get struck by lightning back on Earth. Virgil ignored the feeling in honor of sliding across the polished flooring to the nearest fallen mercenary and hoisting it up as a shield, while he grabbed its blaster from the floor.

Two blaster shots sunk into his Pol’tur shield and it dissolved into ashes in his hand. Virgil cursed again, raising the blaster with his other arm and using his ash coated hand to slide the trigger, because this blaster-- like all other blasters-- were not made for human anatomy at all.

The last Pol’tur was a sickly orange color, like some type of invasive evil moss with long arms. Virgil grinned as the blast exploded forth in a dangerous golden ray of death. The heat singed the edge of his fingers, although the mild numbness prevented him from feeling much more than the slight pressure he assumed was warmth. The shot went wide, and the kickback sent Virgil to the floor, but it was enough.

The blast shattered though several items on the shelves and Pol’tur scrambled back to avoid the avalanche of perishables-- scrambled back right into the pink fog of Virgil's last smoke bomb. It was screaming before Virgil could even sit back up.

Virgil inhaled heavily, sucking as much oxygen into his lung as he could afford and breathing it out through his nose. He squeezed his hand around the handle of the blaster, and tried to pretend like his skin didn’t feel too small. His empty hand-- the one that had held the Pol’tur-- was trembling, shaking, burning.

“I just think you’d be better off spending time with someone else.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Storm!”

“What was it like, Virgil? When you killed him?”

His hand was covered in soot, tingling from nerves and poison and the heat of the blast that had annihilated all evidence of the living, breathing alien.

“It wasn’t….” Virgil breathed heavily, “I didn’t….”

He sucked in another breath, two, three, seven breaths, until he could feel the masquerading gas in the air turn his face numb, and the voices in his head went back to threatening buzzing.

“Fuck,” he whispered softly, and pushed himself off the ground.

Virgil took the blaster with him, and made a private note to ask Logan to look into building communicators for times like this. There were an untold number of things that could have happened to get them mixed up: the Pol’tur ship could have barrel rolled at the time of, or before the final teleportation codes were in, it could have slowed or sped up, it could have marginally changed direction. All of which just proved that only stupid people like Virgil, Logan, Roman, and Patton would dare attempt a teleportation on a moving ship. Virgil tried not to think about what would have happened if his coordinates had been a little lower in space, a little closer to the box he had landed on, a little more personal and prompted whatever was inside of the crate merged with whatever was inside of Virgil.

It took him a moment to realize that the lights had started flashing an interspaced red and yellow series: a visual alarm to the crew.

“Fun,” Virgil mumbled, hugging the wall next to the exit, with one last breath, and then punching the exit lock. The hydraulics took a moment to work (probably due to excessive use of the doors and wear on the components), but it opened to reveal a brightly lit, completely empty hallway. Virgil raised his blaster, checking both the direction before he stepped out and punched the door closed behind him. Then he lined the blaster up with the door controls and fired.

You know, for safekeeping. The last thing they needed was the Pol’turs inside to wake up with a vengeance and come after them before they were off the ship.

(If he was still on the ship by the time that they woke up, Virgil was pretty sure he’d be dead. But hey! Surprising things happened all the time when one lived in fucking space.)

The floor was springy under his feet, some mixture of carpet and flooring that Virgil didn’t know the name of, just that it was weird and he didn’t want it in his Sims House. He could feel the fibers through his shoes as he hugged the wall and sprinted towards where he thought the Engine room would be located.

He could hear the sound of more blasters echoing from the depths of the ship, some yelling, some cursing: all lovely signs that Roman was doing his best to be the most annoying moving target anyone had ever seen. Virgil found his lips curling into a smile as he faintly at the noise.

“Oh come on!” Roman taunted, “I’m a big guy! Surely, you can’t be that bad of a shot!”

There was deafening BZZZTTRRRT, a clamorous crashing, and an ear splitting series of screams.

Virgil flung around the last corner but in time to see Roman stand up from a kneeling position over a clump of bodies that had probably been more alive a few seconds ago. There were blaster marks all along the walls, and several had blown through a wall revealing a cozy living quarters with giant sword slices in the beddings and floors.

“Oooh, so close!” Roman said with faux-empathy bordering on smugness which at this point should just be his default to the mass. “Maybe next time you’ll think more before attacking an Erefren!” He spun at the sight of Virgil coming around the corner, pointing his sword and then shaking his tail in a greeting.

“Roman,” Virgil sighed in relief. “You okay?”

“Virgil! It seems like I got a little off course! Checked the prisoner cells but they were all empty. And then a few new friends of mine had some fun things to say about Remus.” Roman looked feral as he bared his teeth. He jabbed his sword down into the corpses and something wheezed painfully. Virgil didn’t look at them, didn’t look at them, didn’t look.

“Do you know where he is?” Virgil asked.

Roman used the edge of his shirt to wipe the blue grey blood from the tip of his blade. “Not yet, but if you give me a few more minutes with these lovely fellows of mine I will!”

It did not take “a few more minutes”. Roman hoisted on still gasping Pol’tur up by its gangly neck and it had already started blubbering in a mix of languages. Virgil watched the halls while Roman took notes from their new best friend.

Half a minute later Roman dropped their captive to the ground with a fire in his eyes and turned to Virgil with his bone plates clinking, and dripping poison.

“He was on the Bridge.” He said, coldly, “He didn’t know if they had finished with Re or not, but he was up there”

“Okay,” Virgil said.

“The rest of his crew, Virgil,” Roman growled, squeezing the hilt of his sword. “His friends! His family!” He stared down at the shaking cowering alien life. “They..!”

The back of Virgil’s throat tasted like his stomach acids.

Remus had tried to have them killed, he had sold them out, he had been a thorn in their side since before Virgil had become part of the team. Between the harrowing escapes and the near deaths, it wasn’t hard for Virgil to absolutely despise him.

But his crew? His entire crew? In three days?

Just….gone?

Condensed into the memories with a snap, removed from the future in just a blink. The initial attack on them must have been bad and bloody for Remus to call them for help, a surprise ambush type of attack. And for all Virgil hated Remus, he couldn’t help but wonder if Remus had had plans with them-- had they been discussing visiting the bars on L3-012 or shopping on K5-369 or relaxing on C2-276? Had Remus made plans with the people he had been close with and now those plans were meaningless because the people he had made them with were dead and gone and never coming ba--

The Pol’tur on the ground giggled something hysterically, one last brave blubbering comment, and Roman took the toe of his boot right into the creature's soft flesh. Its tentacles flopped on the floor with a plu-plat.

“Virgil,” Roman hissed, without looking up.

Virgil blinked and swallowed hard, “Right, Engines,” He said, turning to go back to his task but Roman reached out and hooked his claws on Virgil’s shoulder, stopping him there.

“Change of plans,” The Erefren said, “You’re coming with me to the Bridge to get my idiot brother.”

Logan was on the Bridge too. Roman didn’t need to have Virgil come with him-- in fact, Virgil shouldn’t come with him. Too many people, too close to fighting, and Virgil couldn’t wipe away the feeling of grit on his hand.

His entire crew. In just three days.

Roman didn’t mention anything about how Virgil was shaking from head to toe, and Virgil didn’t point out the way that Roman’s voice wobbled with silent pleading. He just nodded at the alien and let him lead the way towards where they suspected the examination rooms would be.

Two heads are better than one, and all that.

It was less of a guessing game when the halls and doors were labeled and Roman was very fluent in Pol’turian. Roman was quick to move, quick to sort his way through the poorly designed areas, quick to move. Virgil kept the pace as well as he could, watching the halls behind them for stragglers attempting to get the drop on them and Roman cut down anything in his way.

Blue grey blood splattered across their shoes, filling the air with a sickly sour smell that made Virgil want to gag. He settled for squeezing the handle of the balster and counting out his breaths again as he avoided Roman’s tail striking forward at astonishing speeds and squeezing his eyes shut when he thought he saw a pair of mismatching eyes in the reflection of the lights.

There was no way for them to go quietly through the halls, not with Roman stomping hard enough to shake the entire ship and his poison attacks turning every enemy into a screaming, begging, crying puddle.

“Roman!” Virgil yelled as heat billowed around them, and the taller alien stumbled back, hit the wall and fell to his knees.

Virgil snarled at one of the mercenaries and fired three times at them. Between the near misses and the scattered yells of “Deathworlder!” they retreated into nearby rooms and locked the doors after them. Virgil tore one of his EMPs from Roman’s belt and sent it flying down the hall to keep them trapped there for a little bit, before he turned to check on Roman.

His shirt was smoldering, and one of his bone plates were cracked, but he just looked out of breath and angry, “I’m fine.” His claws scraped the floor as he stood up. “Armor took most of it.”

Virgil checked the hallway again. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, like a cancerous lump that he couldn’t get rid off no matter how much he swallowed or coughed. It pulsed to a beat that he wasn’t sure he could replicate: too fast and yet the space between each thud had felt like forever. It was so loud he almost was afraid of missing the sounds of another attack.

(An attack where Roman’s armor wouldn’t be enough, where he wouldn’t be able to wheeze off the pain, where he’d hit the wall then the floor and he wouldn’t be able to get back up and it would be all Virgil’s faul--)

Roman’s claws pricked his shoulder as he looked. With a slightly trembling hand he pointed in the direction they needed to go and Virgil did his best not to let his churning stomach get the better of him.

“Virgil! Roman!” They both spun at the voice; Roman in particular struck out with his tail, and just narrowly avoided impaling Logan’s crystalline chest on spikes.

Logan didn’t even flinch, not that he could really. His lower arms spread with palms out to signal innocence but his upper arms were busy holding up the profusely bleeding Erefren that was leaning mostly on him. Logan’s arms were flickering with so many colors Virgil couldn’t keep track of them. (Vaguely it reminded him of a disco ball, of party lights, of something so Earthly it would have made him laugh if he wasn’t so busy trying to hold back a panic attack.)

“Remus,” Roman breathed, reaching forward, impossibly gently.

“Ro’mn,” Remus slurred, shifting his head ever so slightly. His blood was pooling down the left half of his face, his eyes were partially glassy, but other than that he looked remarkably like Roman: they shared the same face with a strong jawline, the same dark dark hair curled the same way, and the same long tail with dozens of bone plates. The only real difference was the tinge of white in Remus’s hair, the oozing green poison leaking from his bone structures in place of Roman’s red, and the gaps where someone had torn out his bone plates before Remus had grown new ones in.

“Didn’t think…” Remus’s head lulled to the side, showing off the smile he was desperately forcing on his face, “didn’t think… you were comin’.”

“I’m throwing you out of the airlock,” Roman told him.

“‘ounds fun…” Remus murmured, dropping his head back to Logan’s back, and wincing like each inhale was a battle.

“They had him on the Bridge,” Logan explained, “When I arrived, they were attempting to retrieve information from him through barbaric methods. I may have gone overboard with my retaliation.” Logan shifted Remus’s weight slightly, drawing a groan from the other alien. “I am by no means a medical examiner, however, I suspect that he may have several rib fractures, and a few wounds that need to be looked at and well bandaged.”

Roman nodded, although Virgil didn’t think he actually heard anything. Virgil was an only child himself, but he could guess that even if Remus had been the biggest asshole in the entire cosmos seeing him reduced to this weakened, bloody, broken mess was terrifying. From the stories of their childhood, Virgil had always guessed that Remus was as lively as they came. But this version of him couldn’t even stand by himself.

Roman’s head shot up, “Patton. Where’s Pat? We’ve got Re, now its time to get out of here and get him help--”

“NO!” Remus shouted lunging forward suddenly. Logan stumbled at the change of weight, nearly dropping him to the floor, but it seemed that the movement had taken most of the rest of his power. “I can’t… They have…Jay… I prom’sed…”

Virgil checked the hall for enemies because that was easier than looking at the desperation in Remus’s eyes. His voice was scratched and grated like a glass under the assault of a diamond. He coughed so violently it dragged out a glob of purple blood from him.

“Remus, you can’t--” Roman said.

And despite Remus looking like a simple breeze could end his life, he grabbed at Roman’s outreached arm, above the danger of the forearm spikes.“Me and... my crew,” Remus coughed, weakly. “The oath…”

“I talked to one of those bastards,” Roman countered, forcibly soft, forcibly strained. “Re, your crew is--”

“Ro…” He pleaded, “Please.”

Roman made a noise like something in him was physically shredding him apart. Virgil suspected it was his hero complex, which usually manifested the urge to save every living being he saw. Lost wasn’t a good look on Erefrens, Virgil decided right then and there. Hopeless and terrified and sad-- all of them made Roman look wrong.

“What's wrong, Vee? You look like you want to say something.”

“....It’s nothing.”

“What? Not even a joke? Come on, I know you--”

“Let it go, Ekans.”

Virgil blinked away the unwanted memory. He sighed out of his nose and reached up to hook on the back of Roman’s armor collar. “Let’s go.”

“Virge…” Roman murmured.

“If we don’t do this now,” Virgil said, “We’ll regret it.”

He didn’t wait for the others to catch up with his train of thought, or maybe he wasn’t waiting for his own train of thought to catch up. He tugged Roman back a step and nodded at Logan. “We’ll double back and find any crew that’s left and get Pat. You take Remus to the engine room room and get the codes ready for us to get back.”

“For real?” Roman said.

“Understood, Virgil.” Logan nodded back. He glowed purple softly, around his neck notches as if he had expected this after all. “Don’t be late.”

“Time is a construct.”

Remus laughed like he was choking on a handful of rusted nails. Roman tensed at the sound, gritted his teeth, and then tightened his grip on his sword. Resolved hardened in his eyes, burning through the lost expression like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm.

“Right,” Roman said, “Let’s go.” Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand and took off in the direction they had come from. “Any guesses where the guy’s gonna be? Or where Pat is?”

Virgil felt his stomach churn. He closed his eyes and let Roman pull him along as he tried to remember the 3D diagram of a Pol’turian ship. “Well if I was in cargo, you landed near the prisoner blocks, while Logan was on the Bridge...that means that while Logan was doing the calculations the ship probably did a half roll on the longitudinal axis, which he couldn’t have accounted for. Since this ship appears to be the same as the other makes and models of Pol’turs that means that Patton probably ended up in the medical bay. And if I had to guess that’s where any last member of the crew would be as well. Take this left here.”

Roman nearly stumbled over his own feet. “How in the name of the Great God, Disney-- have you memorized all the maps?”

Virgil furrowed his brow at the alien, “Haven’t you?”

“Well yes, but--” Roman’s face flushed with a bit of his purple blood, “Nevermind, Deathworlder.”

The medical wing of the ship was easy to get to compared to the other places. It seemed that either the Pol’turs had wisened up for an ambush or they had fled when they had the chance. Either way they only came across two mercenaries and Roman made quick work of them.

He knew they had arrived by the buzzing of air, the tingle of his skin that made him feel too big and too small at the same time. The walls were bare and there were four rooms lining them, each with a number engraved in the door and the lock panels glowing red with what Virgil guessed was the Pol’turian symbol for “closed” or “locked” or “dangerous chemical inside do not release”. Virgil reached for another EMP, but his bag was empty. There were scents around them, faint scents: something metallic, something sour, something clean, something, something, something--

Something that smelled like blood. So many different kinds of blood.

Virgil swallowed hard. He hadn’t known a lot about Remus’s crew, but he knew that Remus had had a dozen different species with him. A dozen different species that hadn’t survived the encounter.

“Pat!” Roman yelled down the hall, brandishing his sword.

“Roman! In here! Help--” A voice that was most definitely Patton’s yelled out.

Roman didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward to the room the voice had come from, almost feverishly, desperately, and he didn’t bother with the password. With a swift violent motion he jabbed his sword into the locking panel and then pried open the door with his claws and his hands.

Virgil thought that it would have been one hell of a sight: if he had been strapped to a table, a knife jab from death’s door, begging, pleading, crying and knowing that all his friends had been taking to the room before him and had not come back out intact? If Virgil had been bleeding out and clinging to the slippery bit of hope that was a miracle, and then he saw his captain’s brother literally prying open the door with his bare claws to get to him---

Virgil thought it would have been pretty awesome.

Not something that should have warranted a knife being thrown at them.

Roman let out a curse in Erefren and it was one of those don’t-repeat-this-don’t-tell-Patton curses that Roman specialized in. He staggered back, clutching his shoulder where the knife had sunk in all the way to the hilt, Jesus! What the hell! Virgil kicked the rest of the door open, dropping low as scalpel skirted by where his body should have been, and then he sprung back up with his blaster set on that asshole.

Except.

“Virgil!”

The room was small, almost claustrophobically small. Just standing in the doorway made Virgil’s breath shorten (his cell back at the Welsor fighting rings had been bigger than this--). And it was lit with cold harsh white light, nearly blinding, if it weren’t for the greyed walls and the splashes-- the splashes of faded pink and blue and other colors that Virgil recognized all too well as blood. The table took up most of the room, leaving just enough space for a Pol’tur to sweep around and a small hand tray of twisted instruments.

In fact there was a Pol’tur on the ground right there. Limp and unmoving with an eye scoop so far in it’s skull there was no way it was coming back out.

But Virgil wasn’t staring at the body.

“Don’t you get tired of being everyone’s favorite person?”

It couldn’t--

“Just shut up and help me with these conjugations, will you?”

This wasn’t--

“What do you mean no one can find him?”

He hadn’t--

The detective had looked at him with such a pity that it had made Virgil’s entire body flinch. He squeezed the plastic cup in his hand, crushing it, letting the fragments cut into his skin. He couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything. The man was still talking to him, talking softly like anything louder would shatter the fragile reality around them, talking so quietly Virgil couldn’t hear a single thing he was saying at all over the sound of his own heartbeat.

“You’re wrong,” Virgil had croaked. “He’s not dead.”

But he had been.

He had been for nearly two years now.

And everyone had thought that Virgil had done something to him, had thought that Virgil was the last to see him, had thought that his dark clothes and his eye shadow and a few sneers in the hall had meant that Virgil was suddenly capable of killing Janus Ekans in cold blood.

Except.

Except that Virgil was staring at Janus --fucking-- Ekans right now.

It was unmistakable, the shape of his face, the curve of his lips, the slimness of his nose. The wispy brown hair that turned golden under the summer sun, the mischievous eyes danced with different colors, the flick of his tongue that moved so freely when he let it, the tattoo of two theater masks on his chest that no one was supposed to know about-- Virgil could have spent days naming things, committing them to memory, staring in disbelief at him. This was the same boy who had sat next to him in Spanish. The same Janus who had been convinced he was so completely untouchable up until Virgil had dragged him off his stupid, golden pedastal.

It was the same Janus who was currently wrapped around Patton like a boa constrictor cutting off the alien’s ability to move and had a knife perched ever so closely to one of Patton’s eyes.

“What the hell?” Virgil had said because-- because--

Because Virgil had asked Logan once if there was a race that could pick through minds, pull memories from heads, change the way someone thought. And Logan didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t lie to him. There were no alien types that could break into a mind and drag illusions into reality and there were no races that could bring ghosts back from oblivion.

“Virgil,” Janus said barely a whisper, barely enough to be heard, barely enough to mean anything. The knife was tilting in his hand, tipped like he wasn’t sure what he was saying, wasn’t sure what he was doing. “What-?”

Partially drugged, Virgil thought with absolutely no room to breathe in his chest. Partially drugged, holding a knife to Patton’s weakest point, and alive.

“Janus,” Virgil said, ”Put down the knife.”

He’s still partially strapped to the table, bound by his left ankle and sporting a lovely series of cuts on the side of his face as if someone had started carving scales into his cheek for funsies. If Virgil had to hazard a guess he would have assumed that Patton had dropped in literally as the Pol’tur was taking Janus-- Janus, alive, breathing, real-- apart one centimeter at a time, then proceeded to win a very cramped fight in the room. Virgil would even say that Patton had started taking the restraints off of Janus when he had gained enough consciousness to realize that he needed to defend himself.

(The fact that they found something capable of drugging a human, a Deathworlder, was concerning, so concerning, terrifying--)

“Virgil….You are not real,” Janus said, slowly, blood dripping down his neck. “You cannot be real. None of this is real.”

“I’m the one thats not real?” Virgil muttered. “You’re the one that was declared dead.”

He laughed. Virgil’s stomach swooped.

For a second, a brief fleeting second, he could have sworn that this was all a dream. A fever dream in which Virgil would blink himself awake from and find himself on the floor of Janus’s stupid, giant ass room surrounded by a dozen cans of off-brand energy drinks, a half eaten bucket of popcorn, and the credits for a horror movie scrolling on the screen. For a second it felt like he would roll over and bump elbows with Janus who had woken up an hour previously to study for that stupid Spanish test that wasn’t until Monday. For a second it was like he was seventeen again and his biggest worry was figuring out if it was too weird to ask to run his hands through Janus’s silky hair.

“Of course, I was declared fucking dead!” Janus said, like it was the obvious thing that would happen, “I am dead. I have to be, because there’s no other way that the kid who's afraid of going outside made it this far into space.”

“Janus, put down the knife.” Virgil took a step forward, a half a step, but Janus just squeezed the knife tighter.

“Why don’t you come and make me?” Janus smiled at him, smiled, smiled, smiled.

Smiled like he knew that this was a dream and nothing he did was going to matter. Smiled like they were back on that balcony of his room with their feet swinging between the bars and two Seagrams gone each and they were going to get in a shit ton of trouble for it. Smiled like he had never been dead and Virgil hadn’t had to bury the thought of him.

Patton made a noise, a small whimper, and Virgil felt it in his chest. The near silence of the room, the soft muted buzzing in his head, the fuzzy dream like quality of reality-- it all shattered at the sound. Shattered like glass, like a mirror, like the concept of “forever”. It shattered and Virgil was suddenly hyperaware of how small the room was, how cold he felt, how metallic the air smelt.

“Hm, just as I thought,” Janus said softly, smile dropping into something wistful and disappointed, “I really am just seeing thin--”

Virgil didn’t give him the satisfaction of finishing; he surged forward, throwing his blaster to the side, and using his left hand to catch Janus’s wrist millimeters from putting that knife in Patton. He twisted his hand, pining his fingers into the soft flesh of Janus’s nerves until his hand jerked open on reflex and the knife fell into the open air.

Janus froze, inhaling so sharply Virgil was certain that he took all the oxygen in the room away.

He was warm, Virgil realized absently. He was warm and had a pulse and for some reason both those things made Virgil’s chest hurt. His skin was soft and his breath was sweet and Virgil had gotten punch-drunk stupid on less.

Which probably explained why, how, when, Virgil’s lips ended up on his, pressing firmly, and tasting like something from a past Virgil had thought he had given up on. Virgil had always been stupid, but this was another level of stupid. This was incredibly dumb, unbelievable, ridiculous.

Janus’s mouth was on his, and Virgil’s hand was tipping his head back ever so slightly, and Patton had managed to scramble out of Janus’s absolutely shocked slacked hold.

“You’ve always been so annoying,” Virgil gasped between breaths, “Always thinking you know everything. Have you ever considered you might be wrong before?”

“You’re--” Janus whispered, “Real? For real?” Then, “Don’t you know what the fuck consent is?”

“Fuck you,” Virgil told him.

Janus grabbed him by his collar and yanked him forward again. “Since you asked so nicely.”

“Don’t be cute.”

“Don’t be coy.” Janus shot back because he was still the same asshole who needed to have the last word. He bit at Virgil’s lip, and then pulled back to show off a wolfish grin.

Virgil was stuck somewhere between wanting to smash his stupid smug face in and wanting to kiss him until he lost all sense of direction. Janus was like that, Virgil remembered suddenly, even when they were kids, when Janus was trapped on that pedestal everyone had put him on, when Virgil couldn’t have cared less about him and somehow had ended up unsure how to live without him.

“Not that this isn’t the fucking cutest shit I’ve ever seen--“ A voice behind them called and Virgil stiffened.

“Language!” Patton interrupted, as Roman grunted through the pain of still having a surgical knife in his shoulder.

“--But can the two of you save your weird-ass….human…. greeting custom…. for some other time?” The Erefren snarled with one hand clutching the hilt and then yanking it out with a wheeze that Virgil felt physically. His purple blood spouted out from the wound but Roman didn’t seem to care, beyond tossing the knife to the floor.

“That’s an Erefren,” Janus said because he’s just as good at stating the obvious as he is at kissing. “That is not Remus.”

Roman snapped out something in his native tongue, which by the stress on the syllables was probably not nice and definitely not Patton approved. The Reytin even puffed up, shaking his head in a way that normally prefaced an hour long lecture on manners and the reintroduction of a swear jar.

However, Janus just laughed that pretty stupid little laugh of his but when he opened his mouth the words were all forgein. It took Virgil a moment to catch up, a moment to realize that he hadn’t even fumbled, that Janus had actually spoken Erefrenian and it had been grammatically correct enough that stunned Roman for a whole half second.

“You speak Erefrenian?” Virgil asked.

Janus blinked up at him a smug looking expression on his face. “You don’t?”

Virgil had a good response, he did. It was a response that had been some-three years in the making and Virgil had been ready to wipe that prideful expression of his face. But before they could do anything the entire ship lurched to the side, taking gravity with it. Virgil let out a yelp and grabbed for Janus and clung for stability.

(Space had done wonders for Janus’s abs, Virgil thought distantly.)

Roman slammed into the door frame and stumbled out into the hall, with all the grace a drunken ballerina, and cursed again when Patton landed on top of him.

“That’s our cue to leave!” Roman growled.

“Ya think?” Virgil shot back. He lunged for the end of the table where Janus’s bare foot was still strapped to the table. He didn’t look at the rusted color on the buckle, at the stiffness of the leather strap, at the rawness of Janus’s skin where it was biting into his ankle. He didn’t, didn’t, didn’t--

His hands shook. Janus reached over and clasped his forearms, the fabric of his tunic, him.

“Virgil--” Janus said, softly, unsuredly, with no trace of that previous pompous expression on him. “I--”

There was blood on his face, trailing all the way down his neck in scarlet silvers from the cuts. His hair was sweat matted, pressed and tousled in a way that made Virgil feel a certain rage in his chest, like someone had been running fingers through his curls while they sliced him apart. His eyes were still slightly glassy from whatever they put in him. There was an unspoken question on his lips, in his eyes, through his fingers as he clung to Virgil.

“I’ve got you,” Virgil told him, practically scooping him up. Janus heaved a breath as his feet touched the ground again. “Us humans have to stick together, right?”

Janus Ekans was alive.

It sounded surreal even in the moment, because Virgil had been mourning him since they were seventeen and stupid. Everyone else had moved on, had buried his memory, had forgotten about him. But he was not dead, and Virgil had not killed him. Somehow he had ended up in space, ended up with Remus, ended up here on this ship in the several billions of lightyears from anything they had known previously.

There would be no more late-nights-turned-early-mornings study sessions, no more sneaking over the gated walls of the Ekans mansion, and no more scaling the lattice underneath Janus’s balcony. They were never going to go stargazing on the hills outside of town again, never going to ruthlessly text each other under the desk during History class, never going to skip prom together to go trespassing in the woods somewhere to find Mothman. He was never going to butcher Spanish past participles in the cozy corner of the school library after hours and he was never going to get to listen to Janus brag about obtaining his Seal of Biliteracy finally despite his proficiency in about three languages.

Janus had disappeared right before senior year. And Virgil, who had been the biggest thorn in his side, the biggest instigator of all their fights, the wild and unruly punk kid that lived in detention-- Virgil had stopped looking for him. Because everyone said he had died. Because everyone said that Virgil had killed him.

But Virgil could feel Janus’s pulse, could hear his heartbeat, could see the way his chest moved as they stumbled out of the room.

Part of him was afraid that if he let go now, later, ever, Janus would disappear again. Shimmer and fade like a mirage in the desert.

“Careful Virgil,” Janus said breathily. “I almost think you missed me.”

“I hate you so much,” Virgil said back, as Roman and Patton led the way toward the engine rooms by blade and alien jujutsu and well-placed pun.

“Somehow, I don’t think you mean that, at all.” Janus said, grinning.

And then he closed that last little bit of space between them again.

[Next installment: Stars Die (But We Don’t)]

#Sanders sides #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Remus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Alien Au #Sympathetic Deceit #Sympathetic Remus #23 pages of Virgil in space #humans are space orcs #blood #Anxceit #background intrulogical #Probably will end up as part of series if you guys want more

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thrillsxchills · 3 years

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{TW} Orion is obviously one of my more demented children and his whole life is a trigger warning, so please avoid reading this if your triggers contain the following -- depression, abandonment, hallucinations, drugs, violence, substances abuse, blood, abuse/mental & physical, bullying, self harm+un-alive thoughts, dissociating. (That’s a lot & i’m sorry but Orion has a HISTORY.)

Orion is my first and oldest baby I’ve had. He’s developed A LOT over the years, but for the new members I’m going to start all the way from the beginning so enjoy this looong ride. People like Z and Ali remember big bad old orion, that was something 😅

(tw; about death)Orion was an odd kid growing up, he had an usual obsession with death and creepy things. Cemetery's, bugs, and the supernatural. It was hard to make friends with other kids because of his unusual interests and the fact that his family was high class and his father wouldn’t let Orion associate himself with ‘poor people’.

(tw: family abuse) Orion hated and still hates his father with a passion. Nothing Orion ever did impressed his father. He rarely took interest in his one and only son. He only seemed to show up to physically abuse Orion over the smallest things. Orion’s only friend as a child was his mother, she was literally his saving grace.

{tw: abandonment/dissociating) Orion’s mother Cora is sweet and angelic like. However from his father's abuse she became numb and seemed to dissociate often. But Orion still took comfort in his mother's arms. Until one day his mother couldn’t take it anymore. While she wanted to take her son with her, she couldn’t. Orion’s dad’s family was the one with all the money. Cora had nothing to her name. If she took Orion he wouldn’t have a home or all the opportunities that money offered. So she left and it took everything she had left to do it.

(tw: abuse) Once Cora left the picture Orion’s fathers abuse only became worse. Taking out his wifes disappearance out on Orion. Screaming at the top of the lungs asking where Cora was. Orion didn’t know, he was just as clueless as his father but he didn’t believe him.

(tw: substance abuse) that’s when Orion started using drinking and smoking as a coping mechanism from a young age. He’d smoke any chance he got hiding the buds in his dresser drawer and his whiskey bottles in the boxes of his old shoes. It was his only escape from his shitty reality and his father.

(tw: reason for living) that all changed when Jakob Skellington came into the picture. They met at school and formed a quick lasting bond. Orion confided all his secrets and hobbies within Jakob and the boy never judged him. Orion finally found a best friend and a reason for staying alive at that point in time. Problem was their families had a long lasting feud over something stupid. So the two were banned from seeing each other. That didn’t stop them however. The two would sneak to each others house in the middle of the night or sneak off to hang out at Hallow Falls cemetery.

(tw: abandonment/bullying) however the friendship didn’t last long as intended. Because Jack was Orion’s only friend he became possessive over their relationship. Especially when Serena & Zeke entered the picture. They were getting to close to Jakob and Orion hated it. He began to loathe the two. So Orion did the only thing he knew how to do which is what he learned from his father. He began to bully Serena and Zeke to the point that Jack had to step in and defend Zeke and Serena. This felt like a betrayal to Orion. So Orion made an ultimatum. It was him or the two friends Jack barely knew. Jack chose them and Orion has held a resentment ever since. Quickly turning to the Teague's and using them to bully Zeke and Serena through them.

(tw: violence/blood/ suicidal thoughts) now entering his high school years Orion felt abandoned. He had no one but himself. Sure he had the Teagues but he felt that friendship was only extended because they did his bidding in exchange for things. Orion began skipping school more, starting fights for the hell of it. A couple of those fights he almost couldn’t walk away from him. Leaving his body beaten and bloodied in the back ally. Tiffani & Hallie nursed him back to health. But that didn’t stop him. He continued to get black out drunk and start fights. He wanted to feel something/and nothing all at the same time. He wanted to die.

(tw: substance abuse /hallucinations) Orion really thought he was going to die, he was drinking so much that he barely hanging onto his acceptance into Walt by a thread. His father kept bribing the school with money to keep him enrolled. He was known to students as the boogie man/feared by most people except a girl named Hallie. She tried to get him to be a better person. Which it didn’t happen all at once, it was slow. But once Orion realized all the people who had been hurt by his actions. his reality soon came crashing down. He began hearing things. like actual voices talking him. telling him that he was worthless, that he couldn’t be anything more than a monster. he could barely sleep without drinking himself to sleep. he even sought out a pastor to see if his soul was worth redeeming. Here is a self para about that time [SELF PARA HERE] Here is another self para about reuniting with his mother and standing up to his father. [READ HERE] read at viewers own discretion.!

(tw: trauma) It took time but he began to heal from his trauma. Does that mean he’s a better man now? Not exactly, but he knows how to control his temper and not to completely act on his impulsive anger issues that were handed down from his father. He’s not bad, but he’s not good either. He’s reunited with his mother and already forgiven her. He didn’t hesitate that was his mom after all. Him and his father only meet up if they have too after having their showdown a couple of years ago, which is how Orion prefers it anyway. Certain things still trigger Orion but for the most part he’s charming as hell but still intimidating as fuck. He only gets his hands dirty when he needs too.

OKAY! So that’s a lot and that’s the best I can summarize about my boys development over the last six years! Now for some light hearted head canons,yeah? I think I need therapy from writing all that.

(tw: smoking) you will never see Orion without a cigarette in his hand/mouth. from a young age smoking became a comfort. he doesn’t need it as much as he did back then but its more of a security thing now.

he has a lucky lighter he won from a bar fight. it’s a red zippo lighter in the shape of two pieces of dice. Snake eye’s to be exact.

because of his interest in bugs and reptiles he has a black snake tattoo the looks like its wrapped around his forearm. looks something like this [IMAGE HERE]

Older Orion has a small tattoo on each of his fingers representing his children. A bat for Axel, Nova is a star, Sage for Sage (but looks more like a flower), and the moon for Draco.

Orion enjoys being isolated/alone that’s when he feels most like himself. despite his background Orion does quite well in social situations. he adapts to new environments easily and can be quite charming if you’re on his good side.

Orion prefers the more expensive liquor since that's what he grew up with but his favorite and comfort drink is whiskey with ice.

When Orion is alone he enjoys reading/learning about new topics. He’s well educated but most people don’t experience that side of him.

he hates the holidays, for obvious reasons. doesn’t mind Halloween though.

he has a hate/love relationship with the Teague siblings. Logan annoys the hell outta of him, Beckham is stand-offish and Sadie is the only one he truly gets along with. But deep down their Orion’s only friends and he appreciates them. Will he tell them that? Not until hell freezes over.

Orion’s zodiac sign is Sagittarius

Orion doesn’t keep up with his casino daily- the assets yes, but the actual place no. However he does show up every once in awhile to cheat people out of their money. What can i say he’s a gamblin man.

.Spoken Word/Singing is Orion’s favorite music genre. he’ll go to the grave denying that but he relates to a lot of the bands like la dispute, hobo johnson, front porch step. But he enjoys most kind of music. His most recently played song is Self Care by Mac Miller. [LISTEN HERE]

Now when it comes to Sadie Teague things are different. She’s the only person that really challenges him. He admires her perseverance and her will to do things on her own. Their relationship is complicated. Friends? Friends with Benefits? But his feelings are starting to get intertwined, but how to express feelings he’s never felt before?

favorite color is red

Vitani also intrigues him/she’s not annoying like regular happy go lucky people. He enjoys her company, maybe he’ll ask if she needs a job at the casino.

#watask #im so sorry for all the tw but its well needed #so please don't read unless you're able too!#i care about yalls mental health first!#tw: depression #tw:blood #tw: abuse #tw: hallucinations #tw: drugs #tw: violence #tw: abu$e #tw: bullying #tw: self harm #tw: suicidial thoughts #tw: dissociating #tw: abandoment

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #376

“when the wind bends the branch to softly touch me / when the band plays your song / i feel strong enough to keep dreaming”

If your s/o smoked pot/did drugs would you care? Yes, but for pot that's only because it's illegal here. I also find smoking to be a turn-off, but I'd be able to look past that if it was for actual health reasons. Do people ever call you by your last name? No. Has the last person you dated/fell in love with ever seen you cry? Yes. Where are you going on your next vacation (or where do you WANT to go)? I've got none planned, nor do I know where I'd want to prioritize. Like there's South Africa, but I first need to get healthier before I could handle the heat and trudging through sand. I want to go to Yellowstone National Park to spread Teddy's ashes there (seeking permission of course), but again, I need to be in better shape before I go on a venture of photographing there, as well. I need to be healthier to do a lot of the things I want to... Do you own anything bought in another country? No. Who do you text the most? Sara. Four things you wish you had? Better health (including mental), financial stability, a job, and motivation to indulge more in my artistic hobbies. What was the last thing you cried about? Stress regarding this dog we're stuck with. What is your favorite Elvis song? Probably "You're The Devil In Disguise." Do you think you could be the next American Idol? Ha, absolutely not. Do you prefer reading fiction or non-fiction? Fiction, by a long shot. Does anybody send you money in the mail for your birthday? No. My grampa used to, but he's been dead a couple years. Who is one person you met and automatically didn’t like? I was not a fan of a doctor I once saw for my tremors. She was very rude and just threw the idea of me having Parkinson's or something at what, 17 years old or whatever? My psychiatrist knows her as well and knows she's a whackjob. Heard her name and was essentially like "ew" lmao. What monster would you be most afraid to have in your closet? A male one with a knife, I guess. I really hate knives. And men scare me anyway. Which Adam Sandler movie do you like the most? I don't know, he's in too many to possibly think of one right off the top of my head. Who was one of your first celebrity crushes? Jesse McCartney was my first true love, haha. Have you ever been hit on through text messages? Yes. Do you have to do any yard work? No. Have you ever mowed the lawn? No. Do you get an allowance? No. Did you ever know your great grandparents? I think I knew one? There was this woman from my childhood I knew as "GG" for "great grandma," but I have no recollection of who she was related to or even if she was directly related to me. I remember that I really really liked her, though. Do you like the taste of Tums? It's the texture I really don't like. The candy-like Tums though, y'know, not the chalky ones, I like more than someone should like medicine, haha. How about Pepto Bismol? Omfg no. Do you have a fast or slow metabolism? I have a slow metabolism, but thank Christ it's not as bad as when I was on Abilify. That stupid fucking medicine was the reason I gained so much weight that I haven't been able to lose. What’s your favorite onomatopoeia? (Crash, bang, zoom, meow) I dunno. Do you eat ramen? There's only one specific kind of ramen I've had that I like: Yakisoba's spicy chicken one. Sweet or regular pickles? Regular. I don't like sweet pickles. What kind of dreams do you have most often? Since my nightmares started, violent ones. I'm usually trying to defend myself or lashing out at someone myself. What do you do for personal growth? I try to be a deep thinker, for one. This can way too easily lead to overthinking, but I appreciate that I think it at least helps me learn from my mistakes and work towards making me a better person. I need to start challenging my anxiety more, as that would definitely be massive growth... If you could read anyone’s mind, who would be the first person you’d read? Jason's, only because all I want to know is if he thinks I was emotionally abusive after the breakup or not. But I also don't want to know. Do you have a makeup item or style trick that you feel improves your look significantly and that you feel like you couldn’t go without now that you have it? No. What’s your favourite cereal? Probably Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but I like a lot of cereals. Do you prefer red wine or white wine? I don't like wine. Way too bitter. Do you read Reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like? I don't, but I've thought about lurking on a reptile husbandry one or something like that. Might learn some stuff. But at the same time, there are so many conflicting and very strong opinions amongst hobbyists to the point of awful toxicity that I'd rather not read. Have you recently broken up with a significant other or even just a friend? No. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying? God no. When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play? Probably Scrabble back when Sara visited. Do you primarily use cash or card for your purchases? Why? Cash, because I don't have a debit or credit card. Do you believe sex should be mandatory in an ongoing dating relationship? Um, no? Some people don't care for it, and that's completely fine. Have you ever recorded yourself doing a cover of a song? No. Any secrets you’d never tell anyone? No matter how close they are to you? Yes. Do you like deviled eggs? NO. FUCK that yolk shit. What career are you most interested in? I still think my first career goal, a paleontologist, would be most interesting and exciting. Like just IMAGINE discovering a new dinosaur. And it's such a job of passion - you have to be so, SO careful and invest so much time in slowly recovering it from millions of years of rock and sand and time. I can only imagine the feeling of accomplishment when an excavation is complete. Have you ever seen a rooster? Yeah? What do you think about religion? Honestly, I personally wish it had never been a thing. It's brought with it so much hatred and bigotry, but I do acknowledge at the same time it's brought great comfort and hope to some people, and that's wonderful. But just all things considered, I feel it's done more harm than good. What’s your favorite sweetheart name (baby, honey, angel, dumpling) Probably "lovely." Has a little kid ever fallen asleep on your lap before? Yes, back when I babysat my neighbor's kid once. Have you ever thrown a grenade? Yikes, no. Have you ever talked face to face with someone famous before? No. Have you ever owned a rocking horse? I don't think so? If you could meet anyone in the world who would it be? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Have you ever wished you were dead? Yes. Is it awkward when people start talking all deep around you? No, I actually like deep convos. Have you ever played the old school Pac Man arcade game? Possibly? Ever played Mario Karts on Nintendo 64? No. Have you ever been scuba diving? No. Can you surf/boogie board? No. Do you like Chinese food, Mexican food, or American food better? American. What’s your favorite thing to order from Taco Bell? Cheese quesadilla and fiesta potatos. Sometimes I get the cinnabon delight thingies, but I avoid 'em with how unhealthy they are. Do you like hot, cold, or lukewarm showers? Pretty hot. Do you like to swing? I LOVED swinging as a kid. I haven't done it in a very long time now. How about jumping on a trampoline? I loved that as a kiddo, too. I haven't done that in years. What are you favorite color eyes? Sapphire blue or like an emerald green. Do you have long arm hair? Nah, at least I don't think so. What third generation console is your favorite? PS3, Xbox 360, or Wii? I loved my PS3. I'm still so bummed mine broke. How often do you like to have sex? I'm not sexually active, but even when I was, I didn't care. Do you have a facial expression you seem to pull a lot? What is it? Not really. I think I look stoic most of the time. Do you always listen to music when you’re online? No; I usually have a let's play or something like that on that I can split my screen and watch while doing something else. If so, what are you currently listening to? I'm listening to "Love Goes On And On" by Lindsey Stirling and Amy Lee right now. Do you ever forget how to do really simple things? Like what? Yes, like how to control the laundry machine and other things like that. There's just so many options that I never, ever remember what to set it to, no matter how many times Mom shows me. That's how my memory is with most things these days, really... Were you born with naturally straight teeth? No; I needed braces. If you were the opposite gender, what name would you like to be called? Uhhh maybe Severin. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? I love both, but sour wins. What about chocolate or peanut M&M’s? I also enjoy both, but the original are better. Your favourite band: Do you prefer their old or new stuff? That's like... impossible to answer, lol. I just love everything. Do you check to make sure your ear phones are going in the right ear? No. Do you secretly still listen to Ace of Base? I have no idea who that is. Have you ever broken someone else’s bone? No, thank goodness. I'd feel awful. Is it stupid to think you can write a book at thirteen? No?????????? There are incredibly talented writers out there at young ages. Hell, I remember as a kid, I wanted to be the youngest published author way before that age. Are you ever embarrassed about what you dream about? There've been some I wouldn't share. Have you ever had sex with someone as a favor? No, and I never would. Does your mom let you date? I'm 25, my dude. She let me when I felt ready, though. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? She doesn't have one, but hypothetically, fuck no. Because that's none of my damn business, and it still wouldn't be even if we were still dating. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not have you ever come close? I've fainted once when I was a teen and have come close many other times. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in class, or how you used to before you took the class? Yeah; it was mandatory for I think one year in middle school. I type how I was taught in there. Do you find your best friend’s significant other/crush attractive? She doesn't have an s/o, and idk who her "real" crush is, as much as she'd love Frieza to be real, haha. What do you do with your clothes that don’t fit anymore or just don’t want? Donate them. Do you cut out coupons? My mom will keep some fast food ones she gets in the mail sometimes. Did you ever breathe in helium and talk funny afterwards? I think I did once at a birthday party, but I'm unsure. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? I want to be a freelance photographer so, so badly. I want to specialize in nature and wildlife, but having a boudoir studio would be great to help keep me afloat, plus I adore the art of boudoir. I've shot it once for an old friend, and by god, I loved how empowered it made her feel, especially as a plus-sized woman. She adored the pictures, and I'd just love to help other clients feel like they're gorgeous in their unique body, too. Last type of candy you ate? I had a donut from Starbuck's yesterday. Did you decorate your house for Halloween? If so, how many decorations? Did you go all out, or just put up a few things? Mom and I don't really decorate anymore. :/

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''love goes on and on (feat. amy lee)'' by lindsey stirling

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the-wintershade · 4 years

Text

— things ain’t what they used to be

pairing: sam wilson x f!reader x bucky barnes summary: bucky’s words get into your head and your dancing skills falter, threatening the partnership you and sam have built, but he is always there to listen and to encourage. In the process, you get closer than you thought. wc: 4.9k+ genre: angsty, flirting, deeper talks, secrets coming out

Blue Shade: series — masterlist | 03

You couldn’t let yourself be as carefree as you once were. No matter how you tried to force out Bucky’s words, they were in there, ingrained in a part of your brain that you couldn’t access or change.

It became noticeable when you showed up for class the next week.

You were stiffer, heavier on your feet, and avoided Sam’s glancing eyes more intentionally.

You felt awful, horrible that words that should have fallen on shut ears wormed their way into your head. Like you were a pawn, a slave to his bidding. You didn’t want the words there, you wanted nothing to do with his fowl corrupting phrases of false assurance. It was like a gambit, a lure of something genuine with the price of your soul attached to it.

You didn’t want to trade anything. You didn’t want the deal, but your mind already decided for you.

And Sam was suffering for it.

The instructor seems to notice as well as she stops and frowns more than once in your direction. Steve and Peggy are dancing fabulously, but have a diminished energy, as if your change has affected them too. Natasha mouths are you okay? over her shoulder as she twists around Clint.

You try to nod and put on your best smile, but it feels plastic, robotic. It’s more done out of habit than a truthful response.

It was always like this being with Bucky, but if that’s what it took, you would pay the price. You could go back. It could be like it used to be.

You trip over Sam’s foot for the fourth time since the class began fifteen minutes ago and a heavy sigh spreads through you, your grip loosening on Sam’s hand. He holds your hand firmer when you falter, but doesn’t move any closer.

“You alright?” His face twists with worry and you kick yourself mentally for letting Bucky throw you off this much. “Do you need to take a break?”

Irritation bubbles in your chest at the suggestion. It’s not his fault that you’re so off your game, but you didn’t want to quit. That meant that Bucky won. That somehow he’d made you a toy to play with that remained completely obedient to his beck and call.

“No.” You breathe, knowing that your frustration was on display despite that you’d tried to shove it down. “No, I just….” You pulled your hand off his shoulder and ran it through your hair, collecting your thoughts. Glancing down, you practiced moving in a box like you’d done before, perfectly.

“Okay.” He nodded and moved with you. “Try taking the lead. I’ll follow you.” His gaze was gentle and patient as he waited for you to get your stance in order before moving. You took your first few steps and he mirrored you completely, easily.

He had no problems keeping up with you and your hesitating movements. He made it look simple, like he was just breathing, and it was your turn to be in awe of him.

“What, Coffee Girl?” He smirked, the first time he’d joked around with you since class started. “Surprised that I can follow as well as I can lead?”

You closed your mouth as you looked up to him. It was that same hint of playfulness and warmth that he always showed you. It felt unfair that he was taking the brunt of your internal war and your heart squooze at your behavior. Shame flared across your features, making your skin molten.

By the time you were ready to form an answer, you were too devastated to form words. You just kind of gave a weak chuckle and kept trying not to step on his feet.

“Alright.” He dropped your hand and created distance between you two. You struggled to adjust to the drop in temperature, feeling strangely empty and devoid of energy. Sadness threatened to envelop you at the pain you were causing. Your eyes started watering uncontrollably.

He cleared his throat excessively loud and everyone paused. “Excuse the interruption, but I think that we all deserve a break right?” He gestured at Steve and Peggy who stopped swaying mid swing. Steve looked from Sam to you and nodded his head. He turned to the dance instructor.

“I think a five minute break wouldn’t harm anyone.” She agreed with a slight sly undercurrent underneath that felt directed towards you in a way.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I vote for a dance break. Perhaps with a selection of more danceable music.” Sam struts over to the speaker in a way that almost broke your tight lipped frown into a smile. Almost. The jazzy funk of Marvin Gaye began spinning around the hall, changing the quiet, cautious sounds of a piano and serenading trumpet into groovy percussion and a calming guitar.

Sam nodded his head enthusiastically while Steve laughed at his antics. His eyes glimmered with a hidden inside joke that you wouldn’t get.

He boogies his way to Steve and Peggy who fumble around in a mess of unsynchronized tempo and jerky movements but they began to fall into this 50s inspired groove that seems to work in sync with the music. You’re surprised at their knowledge of such an older style but it’s nice to see them break out of the formality that the waltz demands.

A man who’s name you learned was Vis, short for some extensive name you weren’t really paying that much attention to, got booty bumped by a funky Sam and looked like a deer in headlights. You almost giggled then and watched as Wanda began to shake and jump around. Vis’s face turned beet red, which happened every time he was even a bit embarrassed.

After some whoops and hollers from Wanda, Vis tried to move on the beat with her, holding her hands like he needed her for balance instead of guidance. They stumble through the steps together, but at least they are having fun. Wanda’s beautiful smile warms Vis to the core; it’s easy to see.

Sam attempts to drag Natasha and Clint into the action but both hold up hands, clearly conveying that’s never gonna happen. He shoots finger guns at them and spins around to make a b-line for you.

You shake your head furiously in denial and begin to back up, but Sam is insistent and presses in closer until he’s toe to toe with you. He draws your hands into his as you take a deep breath involuntarily and shakes his hips a little, teasing you with his eyes as he pours it on thick. “Oh, mercy mercy me,” He hums showing you that he won’t back down until you join him.

You begin to giggle and he alights with color, the whites of his teeth show. He tries to tamper it though and twirls his hand around to spin you in a circle. You follow his subtle direction and pivot around his hand as the orchestral part of the song begins to take over.

He pulls you in, wiggling his shoulders and guiding you through a modified waltz that’s much less challenging and more relaxing. It’s more about moving to the beat and adding pizzazz to what’s already there. It’s fun and you're smiling in no time, Bucky’s words drifting out of your mind.

He booty bumps you. You both fall into a bundle of awkwardly spasming bodies and outburst of mirth.

Sam watches you with laughter, his brown cheeks becoming little balls of happiness on his face. His eyes drip in amusement and enjoyment. He’s the party and the entertainment all in one.

You hold on to his light even as the song fades, even as the class resumes and you’re back in his warm, safe arms again, flowing through the moves in perfect harmony. He feels warmer now, renewed at the quick break that’s brought back your smile. You feel like Bucky’s words were nothing but a terrible, horrible dream that’ll dissolve by standing next to your sun, next to your Sam.

…

Sam digs into his burger as you take a reasonable bit of your own, watching him just as he watches you. It’s not creepy or intimidating, but more of a familiar thing to do. You’ve been observing each other for some time now, soon after introductions were established, so this was nothing unusual.

But Sam’s gaze held something deeper, a twinge of confusion and dissatisfaction wafted through his deeply colored eyes. You wanted to ask, but waited. It might not be something that you were quite ready to answer yet. You resolved to finish chewing your part of the burger and look outside at the rushing traffic, at the way the light bounces off buildings and makes the sidewalk brighter.

Sure enough, when you’re ready to reach for your drink, Sam’s question beats you to it. “What happened yesterday?”

It’s a question that he has a right to an answer, especially with how it conflicted with your dancing abilities, but you don’t want to lay too much on him. After all, these were your issues to deal with, dumping your problems on him were unfair.

“Nothing,” You compromise, hoping that the words would be just enough to convince him that some was definitely wrong but you weren’t ready to really get into it. “Just a little tired and irritated, that’s all.”

He doesn’t like the way you sigh. His shoulders hunch a little and his eyebrows furrow closer together when he hears something that upsets him. The fact that you knew that, surprises you, but you brush it off as getting to know each other over these past few days.

“(Name), be honest with me,” He pauses, his voice softening with an edge of seriousness. “I deserve that much.”

You almost cringe. He’s right, but you still don’t really want to say what really happened. You don’t want to upset him or make him angry for your sake. That, he doesn’t deserve. You also don’t want him to take on anything. You’ll solve this.

“If I tell you,” You fiddle with your straw, leaning back in your chair like you have the winning hand in a game of blackjack. “You have to promise me, that you won’t get upset.”

He leans forward, his concern rising in his eyebrows and darkening expression. “I can do that.” He tries to smooth out the creases that formed in the last few seconds, but a few still strain against him, telling you that he’s already upset.

You sigh and mess with your fingers in your lap, refusing to look him in the eye, to watch him become disgruntled with what you’re about to say. You explain what happened when you got home, how Bucky’s arms held you restrainedly tight against him and how he tried to convince you that Sam was just trying to use you, to play you in some way.

By the time you looked up, Sam wasn’t all the way upset, his shoulders were hunched still but his eyes were wide and hurt. That damaged you the most.

He leaned back when you made eye contact and looked away, his fingers running across his chin absentmindedly. When he was ready, which took some time, he dared to gaze back at you before sitting forward. “Do you not trust me?”

What? That’s the farthest thing from the truth. Of course you trusted him, this wasn’t about that. “I trust you.” You answered with more determination than you thought you were capable of and stared him directly in the eyes as you said so, assuring him that there were falsities in your statement. You know he accepts your answer as his shoulders drop in relief.

He looks down and takes a breath before continuing. “Then why were you all over the place today?”

You close your eyes in frustration. “Because he doesn’t know you. Because I know you wouldn’t do something like that.” You sigh and stare at the table. “I was angry that his words got to me like that. I didn’t believe for a second that the words were true, but the fact that he knows just how to get a rise out of me made me unbelievably frustrated.”

When you don’t look at him, he reaches across the table and brushes his fingers against your deathly tight grip on your cup. Your hand loosens on contact as you take a sharp breath, a flush moving to your cheeks, a shiver riverbrating down your spine. “Thank you for telling me.” He murmurs, his gaze warm and more sultry than you remember.

Your hand inches out to that lightning strike that buzzes between your hands, but you restrain yourself and let it fall open onto the table. “Thank you,” You minutely smile. “For believing me.”

“Am I stepping on anything, by inviting you to dance with me?” He looks genuinely concerned and it breaks your heart all over again. His warmth and light that you don’t deserve.

“No. It was my choice to agree to dance with you and Bucky just has jealousy problems that he needs to sort out himself.” Your jaw locks when you say the words, but you’re much calmer now. The heat that runs through your veins isn’t from anger.

Sam nods and returns to eating. You do the same.

A question bubbles up through your chest, an idea you previously ignored but now brought to your attention through its neglect. “That day I met you at the party, why were you there?” Your eyes are guarded, but not closed. You’re concerned that it took you so long to ask.

Sam smirks and finishes swallowing before responding. “Ah, so now you ask.”

You bite your cheek to keep a smirk of your own from capturing your face. “I didn’t realize you were actively trying to keep it a secret.”

“No, not a secret. I was just wondering when your curiosity would finally get through.”

You only hum in response, leaning away from the table, gesturing for him to continue.

He chuckles. “I know Willow.”

The words hit you like a train and the smile fell straight off your face. The girl that Bucky disappeared with, while you were still there. The girl that knew you and Bucky had something going on but refused to keep her hands off him. Not like he was any better.

He watched your face harden and sobered up a bit. “I also met her in college. She invited me to a few art shoes she was doing as an amature artist. I knew there was something else behind her innocence.” He leans forward and sighs. “But when I explained my obvious disinterest in her, she backed off and turned out to be a surprisingly good friend.”

Your blood sizzled, a twisting knot of hot anger coiling and moulding in your stomach. It wasn’t about Bucky, but Sam and just as the realization caught in your mind, your inklings of rage dissipated in a second. Why is it all about Sam this whole time?

You closed your eyes and unfurled your fist, the half-moons the only remnants of your restrained vexation.

Sam’s eyes drilled into your head. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and deep, full of worry and anxiety.

“Yep.” You grit the words out between your closed teeth, allowing the flames to sputter and fizzle out before opening your eyes again. “Just...fine.” You peel your eyes open slowly and see Sam’s frown. Your face smoothes itself at his concern. You don’t like making him fret over you.

He doesn’t take your answer as satisfactory. “I’m sorry. I forgot Willow was a sensitive subject.”

“It’s not about Willow.”

Sam’s eyes lock with yours, the fire flashes behind your eyes for a second before you look away, waiting for it all to subside. Sam gently reaches across the table to you, brushing your blazing hot hand with his cooler one, trying to get your focus somewhere else. Where physical violence didn’t sound like a bad option.

“(name), look at me.” You strain against his voice, tears of frustration building in your eyes. He grasps onto your fingers tighter and tugs gently. You look at him then. “I’m not going to press you about what’s going on between the two of you, that’s your business, but I don’t like seeing you upset.” A soft warmth unfurls in your chest, smothering the wall of pain threatening to rise.”I’m sorry for whatever happened, but I am here to support you, even if we haven’t known each other that long.”

You laugh, it’s sad and bitter, but it’s better than crying in front of him. You’ve cried enough tears already over this, you don’t need more to the bunch.

But it’s nice to know that he cares about your well being and that he withstood Willow. It makes you happier to know that Willow can’t draw in everyone.

It just makes you peeved that it all comes back to the art gallery for her, that she feels she needs to get men this way. It should be about her work. It should be about something she’s passionate about, not just for an excuse.

You sigh and smile at him. Squeezing his hand, you manage to get out a sentence quietly. “Thank you, Sam. It means a lot.”

“Always.” His are dark and warm, filled with pools of light and sincerity. It gives the confidence to return back to the way you were. You give his hand one last squeeze before you let go and return to eating. Sam hesitates a moment, making sure you’re actually okay before continuing with his meal.

After finishing your food in a comfortable silence, the gentle movement of paper and liquid traveling through straws creating a white noise, Sam asks you one more question. “I want to show you a place next time. Do you feel comfortable coming with me?”

You smirk. “Trying to kidnap me?”

“Only if you’re okay with that.”

He smiles when you answer. “I’m down. Lead the way, Captain.”

…

Dance class provides a higher charge than originally seen between the two of you. His smirk lingers in your mind, making you tingle and blush rise. These aren’t things that you can really remember feeling with Bucky, but it’s been so long, how would you remember?

It’s probably a bad thing that you can’t echo thoughts of good times with Bucky, but maybe it’s just that you’ve never felt this way about anyone else before. Maybe these feelings are new.

Sam seems to feel the same way as you do. He’s not nearly as flirty or as talkative as usual, he doesn’t crack any one liners with you nor does he twirl you into any crazy moves. He’s all poise and following the rules, but his hands wrap around yours a little tighter, you dance a little closer, and the air hums with the electricity between you.

He stares more openly when all you can do is look away and smile.

Your steps are steadier and accurate. You don’t stumble around like you did the day before, and you and Sam move as one unit, gracefully weaving around each other, your feet like feathers spinning through the air.

The teacher smiles appreciatively at you and every other person in the class, every couple moves in sync. The whole class appears harmonious and balanced, more comfortable and less worried for your performance. It’s preferable to the rough nature of Bucky and the challenging environment of your job. It’s comfortable and nice, a place of relaxation and peace for you.

It’s a place to come and dance with Sam and forget everything, forget the world exists.

…

Sam’s jacket falls around your shoulders, a soft barrier against the cooling breeze of the sea. You walk side-by-side down the boardwalk, the planks clunk beneath your shoes and the breaking of small waves provides a murmur of background noise. It’s enough to create a pleasant space to take in the beauty of it all.

There’s nothing more delicate and beautiful than a beach at sunset. It’s no wonder you’re here with him; it’s oddly fitting.

“I used to come here a lot.” Sam quietly murmurs underneath his breath, just loud enough for you to hear but careful not to pull you out of your admiration too fast. “When I was in my head too much.”

You nod politely and keep watching the waves lap against the shore. You want him to continue on his own terms, you’d never force his story from him.

He clears his throat after a beat and drifts a little closer to you. Your heat grows for a half-second. “I used to be in the army and when you come back...life just isn’t the same for you anymore.” He sighs and your heart squeezes hearing the pain and the hurt in his words. “It’s hard to adjust and when life is too absurdly mundane, I’d come here. The roar of the waves could dull some of the noise up here.” He taps against his temple and smiles to himself.

You force yourself not to touch him, but it takes immense effort and your hand itches, pulls, wrestles against your mind's commands to keep still. You sink your teeth into the side of your cheek and hum in response to him, trying to keep your eyes from locking with his.

“Is it bad now?” The words slip out as your concern for him reaches a crux and not knowing is eating up every bit of self-control you’ve built into place. Your question lingers between you two, fragile and shaky, and you wonder if you’ve crossed some horrible line that you weren’t supposed to.

A feeling of dread wells up in your chest as he takes a while to answer, your face begins to drop and your steps falter, but then he shakes his head in disagreement. “No.” He chuckles to himself. “It’s been getting better these last few weeks.”

His smile holds a secret that is intended for you to understand, but you try not to pay it too much attention.

“You know, if you need anything, I’m here.” You fiddle with the sleeves of his jacket as you respond. “If you can be here for me through this Bucky mess, then I can be here for your bad dreams too.”

Sam watches you unabashedly and then smiles gently. “Thank you.”

You walk together to the end of the pier and sit on the edge, your feet reaching towards the waves. The wind here is colder, more cutting and you wrap his jacket further around your shoulders.

Neither of you speak for a few minutes, just letting the wind and the sea make a music of its own. It was this comfortability in the silence that you wish you could share with Bucky. You wish you could be beside him and feel the way you do now, safe and comfortable. You don’t have to fight against him or his antics, his cheating behavior and aggressive personality.

You could just be.

You could just exist in the same time and space and that would be enough for you.

And the conversation wouldn’t always drift to your mistakes and failures. It wouldn’t be made into a spectacle of hate about you living your life and trying new things.

But Sam doesn’t make you feel stupid or dumb. He doesn’t make you feel like you’re doing anything wrong.

Sam must have seen your scrunched eyebrows and critical eyes. ��What are you thinking about?”

You sigh and fiddle with the palms sprawled in your lap. “My ‘boyfriend’ as you so affectionately call him.”

“Oh.” He looks back to the waves, steadily crashing but growing in intensity. The tide must be coming in. “And how are things?”

The mood changes. He grows more reserved, analytical and objective, like he usually does whenever Bucky’s name is mentioned. Your stomach twists. You don’t want him to close off or make him feel like he’s stepped on something delicate. You don’t want to hurt him with stories about him.

But you know that if you try to shield the truth, he’ll be just as hurt. He said he’d be there. You trust him.

“Tense at best.” You conceded, face sinking in despite the gorgeous scenery.

“Hmm.” He takes a breath and looks at your hands, balled together. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

He nods.

“I just feel guilty around him, like I’m doing something wrong.” It wasn’t because of Sam; it was because you knew your feelings were changing and they weren’t in favor of Bucky.

“Does the dancing thing...make you feel uncomfortable?” He spares a fleeting glance at your face and you watch his calm but worried eyes move over yours gently, just testing your reaction before he reveals the depth of his.

A similar alarm echoes off in your mind that this will have to come to an end soon, that this beautiful dream will dissolve from your mind. You don’t want this to end. You don’t like the thought of not seeing him again.

“No! That isn’t the issue. I’ve been more myself dancing with you than I have been around him.” You fiddle with your hands, a spike of anxiety rising at your confession, but you spare a glance in your direction to see him staring at you directly. A jolt flares in your core.

“That’s...reassuring.” You bump his shoulder, reminding you of how close you are. If you placed your hands on either side of your body, you’d nearly be touching. He smiles at your teasing. “But,” His tone dips to a lower pitch, a lingering sigh hinting at the transition from euphoria to reality. “As nice as that sounds, it doesn’t sound like you’re in a good spot.”

“We’re not.” Your face droops in frustration. “And I’m not sure what to do.”

He watches you for a second before he responds. “Sounds like you need to talk to him.”

When you turn to look at him again, the sun is splayed so beautifully on his features that he looks like an angel, swathed in gold and sunlight. You can’t stop staring. And even if he was embarrassed by your pointed gaze, he doesn’t seem concerned. He’s too busy gazing back at you.

You’re surprised when you start to lean in, but the thought only registers in some part of your mind that’s far away from the decision making part of your brain. What brings a present shock is the fact that he begins to lean in too.

Your temperature increases and you can feel your breath quickening, but you keep going anyway, ignoring the nagging feeling of guilt that’s increasing by the moment. Sam’s nose brushes against your own and your eyes begin to fall, but it’s as if your vision clears when your eyes shut.

You stop and he immediately follows suit.

But you take a moment to savor the feeling, being so close to him, being close enough to touch and hold. These are treasonous thoughts that carry a weight that you don’t fully understand, but it feels good. You haven’t felt this good being around someone in years, despite being with someone else all this time.

It’s horrible that you’re just starting to figure all of this out now. “Sorry.” Your whisper is jagged and breathy, but it’s all you can manage. You don’t think you have full control of your mental functions to do or explain more than that.

Sam seems equally as lost because all he can do is hum in response. You know his eyes are open, watching you, waiting for you to look at him, but you can’t. Because if you do, you’ll lose all over again.

“We should get back.” He stands and only when he isn’t in your sights that you open your eyes. You notice how the ocean quieted down, the roaring in your ears in your ears isn’t as loud, how the wind has died.

When you turn, his hand drifts in front of your face and you hesitantly reach out to take it, knowing the jolt that’s going to spike through your arm at the contact of your skin with his. It’s stronger than it’s been before, but he supports you as you stand like he didn’t feel it.

You straighten on slightly wobbling legs, still buzzed from a second ago. Only when he’s sure that you’ll be able to walk on your own does he let go, holding on for much longer than necessary. You miss his heat right when you let go.

He treds next to you faithfully until you reach your car. You unwrap his jacket from your shoulders and gently give it back to him, thanking him for lending it to you. You prod over to him and press a feather-soft kiss to his cheek, making sure to keep it to the appropriate amount of time, but wishing you’d just let it linger a bit longer. When you look back at him, a low warm heat spreads through your stomach at the way his eyes look like pools of fresh, heated chocolate, moving in elegant swirls.

You force yourself to turn away and get into your car. You give him a small wave as you pull away and then immediately crank the AC despite it’s only 50 degrees outside.

You can’t stop smiling, even when you make it back to your apartment.

#sam wilson #wintershade #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson being cute #blue shade #bs:sam #ms:blue shade #part 3 baby #It's been so hectic I'm so glad I pre-wrote like all of this #it takes so much stress away

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atths--twice · 4 years

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Chapter Three

A Walk on the Beach

Walking on the beach leads to memories, stories, laughter, gazing, kissing.

As they leave the restaurant, they stop by the limo. They tell the driver they are going to walk on the beach and the pier, so it may be a while. He shrugs, smiles, and turns back to his paper. He’s paid through for the evening, time doesn’t matter to him.

The beach is not far, just past a few restaurants and down some stairs. There is a long pier with some rides and carnival games close by. When they get to the steps, Scully sits down and takes off her shoes.

“You should do the same, Mulder. It’s not any fun trying to get sand out of dress shoes,” she says matter of factly.

He doesn’t ask her how she knows this, but sits down next to her to take off his shoes and socks. He shoves his socks down inside and ties his laces together. Scully is sitting holding her shoes, waiting for him. He glances at her. She is staring at him, flicking her eyes to his lips, her breathing becoming fast. His heart pounds. He recognizes that look.

She licks her lips, drops her shoes and climbs into his lap-straddling him. She locks her arms around his neck and kisses him. He too drops his shoes, wraps his arms around her waist and grabs her ass. She moans and pushes her tongue in his mouth, slowly stroking her tongue over his. He groans into her mouth and pulls her closer as he thrusts his hips up. She rotates her pelvis against the beginning hardness she finds there and they both moan.

He brings a hand up to her neck, grabs a handful of hair and tugs. She gasps and pulls her mouth away from him. Her eyes are dilated and wide in surprise.

“The fuck are you trying to do to me, Scully?” He smiles as he strokes her neck, breathing hard, feeling the scar from her implant. “There is no way this,” he says with a thrust of his hips, “can be remedied out here. Jesus... Control yourself, woman.” He smiles and winks at her.

“Oh, but Mulder.. sometimes you make it so hard,” she purrs and then pouts when he moves her off his lap.

“No, Sister Spooky, you make it so hard,” he says as he stands up, adjusting his pants.

She laughs and grabs her shoes. Mulder takes them from her and puts them in his jacket pockets as he stands up. He throws his shoes across his shoulder and reaches for her hand. He loves the ease at which he can hold her hand or kiss her. Out here, away from the bureau, away from those who may be watching, he feels free.

Case in point, that limo ride. Christ on the holiest of crosses, he thinks with a chuckle, that was ballsy. He normally would have been able to control himself, but goddamn..she is pure sex sometimes. He never would have pegged Scully as one willing to have sex in a limo, but fucking hell.. She has surprised him with the things she is willing to do or let him do to her.

That mouth of hers..it should come with a warning. She makes him so hard with the things she says. Sometimes sitting in the office, after a night together, is pure torture. She is all business and all he can think is how she had begged him to fuck her until she exploded. How she wanted him behind her, under her, and in positions he had never tried before. As soon as she heard his breathing change, she would raise her eyes and grin. She knew exactly where his mind had gone.

God, he has to stop thinking this way. Walking around with an erection was understandably unavoidable when he was fourteen, but he’s a grown ass man. This is embarrassing and quite uncomfortable.

They reach the bottom of the stairs and Scully actually squeals as her feet hit the sand. Mulder looks at her and sees her childlike grin at putting her toes in the cold sand. She squeezes his hand and releases it, taking a few steps forward.

“God, I love the way the ocean smells, the sounds of it, the inky blackness of it at night. There is a poem I remember reading as a child that describes the ocean so perfectly. But, I can’t seem to recall all the words,” her brow furrows as she tries to think of them. “I used to say it to myself every night, the melody of it was so comforting. Hm.. the only thing left is the description of the color, inky black.”

She stands and stares at the ocean, breathing deeply, with a content smile on her lips. Mulder watches her watching the waves. He feels the huge dopey grin on his face and he doesn’t try to hide it. He is so happy right now. Standing in the cold sand, the smell of the ocean around him, watching her hair blow in the breeze, catching her scent mingled with the salt in the air. If he could choose where and when to die, it would be in this moment.

She looks over at him and sees his big grin. “What’s that smile about?” She asks with a wide smile of her own.

“Nothing,” he says and steps toward her and kisses her softly. She smiles at him and it is reminiscent of the kiss they shared on New Year’s Eve, chaste and sweet. He smiles again as he thinks of the many things they have done recently that are most definitely not chaste.

“Come on Scully, let’s go feel that cold Pacific Ocean,” he says as he reaches again for her hand. She laughs and locks her fingers with his as they trudge through the sand.

There are not many people out on the beach at this hour. A few stragglers here and there, but for the most part, they are on their own. The quiet of the beach is nice after the music of the restaurant.

The crashing of the waves is hypnotic. Scully remembers many trips to the beaches as a child; finding rocks, shells, sand crabs, and seaweed. Other than the rocks and shells, Melissa had never wanted to join her in finding those things. Unless the boys could be persuaded to stop playing in the water or digging huge holes, she was on her own. She did not mind her solitary play. Being on her own, she could dig and explore to her heart’s content.

They reach the waters edge and Mulder releases Scully’s hand, bending to roll up the legs of his pants. Scully takes his shoes from his shoulder and holds them for him. She steps forward and then jumps back at the coldness of the water.

“Christ, that’s cold!” She exclaims as she steps forward again. “That first feel of the water is always a shock. But, I love it.” She looks over at Mulder as he finishes with his pants and she grins.

He takes his shoes from her and reaches for her hand again. He pulls her a couple more steps into the water. He inhales sharply as the water hits his feet and she laughs. The water pulls back and they both feel the pebbles rush past them, their feet sinking deeper into the wet sand.

Scully lets Mulder’s hand drop. She raises her arms out and puts her head back, taking a deep breath. She smiles as the next wave crashes and her feet are submerged in water again.

She swears, if she turns around, she will catch a glimpse of her mother on a large blanket, under an umbrella. A big floppy hat on to keep her face protected from the hot sun. She will hear her calling out to all of her kids to be careful of the water. To respect its power. She will hear them all laugh as they brush her warnings off as mom just being worried.

Until Scully had a lifeguard swimming toward her one day, as she drifted too close to the pylons of the pier, did she learn to heed her mother’s words. She hadn’t even noticed she was close until it was almost too late.

The lifeguard had brought her out of the water, given her a talking to about paying attention, and brought her back to her mother-much farther down the beach than she remembered. Her mother had thanked the lifeguard and then looked at Scully. Cold, shaking, and embarrassed, she had sat down on one of the boogie boards the boys always brought.

“Dana,” her mother had begun. “How many times have I said to be careful and aware in the water? The ocean is not a docile creature. She is not forgiving. Today, Dana, today is a calm day and yet you drifted far away from where you began. You are a strong swimmer and able to look after yourself, but you cannot take chances or let your guard down. You love the sea, I know, but it will not love you back. You have to stay vigilant.”

Scully could still feel the way the water felt dripping off her body and her hair as she sat with her head bowed. The heat from the sun on her back, the sand on her toes, and the smell of the ocean all around her.

Her mother had leaned forward and tipped Scully’s chin up to look in her eyes. She gave her a small smile.

“I do not say these things to scare you from your fun Dana, I just want you to be safe,” she said as she pushed Scully’s wet hair back from her face and rubbed her cheek. “My darling girl, so much like your father. He respects the sea, my love, you need too as well.”

Scully had nodded. Her mother pulled her in for a quick hug and asked if she was hungry. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing there would be no punishment for not listening to her mother's words. Her father would not hear about this, for which she was extremely grateful. Her father’s disappointment was something she avoided at all costs. The look on his face was enough to make her feel shame for days.

Her mother had called all the kids to come back and eat. As they all grabbed for sandwiches and snacks, her mother had caught her eye and smiled. Scully felt her heart lighten, and joined in with the fun and laughter of her brothers and sister.

She turns around now almost expecting to see the ghosts of her mother and siblings sitting on the shore. The night wind blows and she could swear she hears the laughter of that day blowing across the beach. She feels a chill and feels Mulder touch her back.

“Cold?” he asks her as he rubs his hand up and down her back.

“No.. just thinking of old memories,” she says with a small smile, turning toward him. “Did I ever tell you about the time my father decided we should try to go to as many beaches as possible in two weeks' time?” She asks as she pushes her toes around in the sand and the water, grazing his toes at times.

He chuckles. “No, I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard that story.”

“Well, we were living here- well not here but in San Diego. Which, as you know, has beaches pretty much everywhere. But my father decided he wanted to see Manhattan, Redondo, Santa Monica. He thought it would be a good teaching moment for us, seeing as there is a lot of history in the beaches. Many Native Americans were the first people to live in those areas. My father never wanted us to just have a vacation, he also wanted us to learn something, you know?” She smiles at him and turns toward the shore.

She starts walking past the tide, her feet beginning to feel cold. When she finds a dry area past where the waves can't reach, she sits down.

Mulder sits down next to her and she puts her head on his shoulder. They sit looking at the waves for a few minutes before he gives her a nudge to continue her story.

She smiles and starts again.

“So, my father has this trip planned and my mother has been packing for it for weeks. We were going to be camping at campsites, so we had to be sure we had everything we needed. We were of no help to my mother, packing wise. I was eleven, Melissa was thirteen, Bill was fifteen and Charlie-“

“Whom I still don’t believe actually exists,” Mulder cuts in, his voice disbelieving. “I’ve met everyone else in your family, except him. What are you Scully’s hiding? Might have to open an X-File,” he says with a look of mock intrigue.

Scully laughs and shakes her head. They have had this discussion before. Mulder expressing his doubts that the youngest Scully member will ever make an appearance, therefore proving he does not exist.

“Anyway,” she continues with a smile. “Charlie was nine and he and Bill didn’t always get along. Bill was too cool for everything back then. He had a short fuse and it seemed to be directed at Charlie the most. They fought constantly, about everything. So, we’re all piled into this old station wagon we had. It’s laden down with suitcases, tents, cookware, pillows, blankets.. so many things. All of us kids are on the bench seat in the back. All of us, Mulder,” she tells him with a look of incredulity before continuing on. “The car has no air conditioning and it’s hot as hell. Oh, and the car had leather seats. So it was that hot where your skin is wet with sweat and also sticks to the seat at the same time. It’s disgusting,” she shakes her head again lost in the thought of that trip.

Mulder can picture them all, squished in, ready for an adventure, but with that little bastard Bill likely to explode. Mulder had been on the receiving end of the rudeness of Bill as an adult. As a teenage boy, he must have been an outright shit to everyone in the family.

“So, we’re in this hot car, loaded down, about forty five minutes into our two and a half hour drive, when Melissa starts to feel carsick.”

Mulder bursts out laughing.

“Oh, did I not mention that she got carsick? Oh god, Mulder, it was always horrible. She would sometimes get carsick going to the grocery store. She had a bucket that stayed in the car permanently, in case she needed to vomit. So here we are, Melissa by the window, me next to her, and the boys next to each other, with Bill by the window. As she says she’s feeling sick, Bill gets mad at Charlie for touching “his side.” Usually I tried to sit between them so that didn’t happen, but I didn’t get there in time.”

Mulder is still chucking, picturing the scene of the Scully kids packed in like sardines. Scully, the peacemaker, trying to calm her brothers and also help her sister. He puts his left hand on her knee and gives it a squeeze. He could envision her fierce look as she tries to appease everyone, he has seen it enough times himself.

She takes his hand from her knee and stands up. She wants to walk the beach a bit before they head back to the hotel. She looks down at Mulder and reaches for his hands. He grabs hold and together they pull him up. He stands and brushes off his pants. He smiles at her as he reaches for her hand again. He locks their fingers and she looks at him and grins. They start to walk down the beach as she continues the story.

“So, Melissa actually starts dry heaving, Bill punches Charlie, my mom is trying to calm Melissa and I am trying to punch Bill because Charlie is crying.”

Mulder laughs even harder at the thought of scrappy eleven year old Scully taking on her tough older brother. She hasn’t changed much. He’s watched her take down criminals twice or sometimes three times her size. Anyone who looks at her might see a petite pretty woman, but she is tough as nails and scary as hell at times.

“My mother is telling Melissa to grab her bucket and I had just gotten a hold of Bill’s hair and I was pulling hard. He was screaming at me to let him go, Charlie was still crying, my sister started actually vomiting, and then I called my brother a son of a bitch.”

Mulder is howling with laughter, actually holding his stomach as he laughs from deep inside. He stops walking, lets go of her hand, throws his head back and he laughs and laughs. He has tears in his eyes as he pictures the shock on everyone’s faces. How quiet it must have gotten. He looks at Scully and she is laughing too, a huge grin on her face, as she looks at him. Hearing him laugh is like a drug. She loves his laugh and she doesn’t get to hear it often enough. He may chuckle here and there, but a deep gut clenching laugh like this-those are few and far between. His eyes are sparkling and his whole face is lit up. God, she loves him.

“God, Scully,” he says, coughing and laughing still, wiping tears from his eyes. “How have I never heard this story before? It has everything. The happy family going on vacation, the unpredictability of carsickness, the antagonist picking on the weak, the protagonist saving the day by avenging the weak and also dropping some swear words in the family car. A god fearing Catholic family car no less. Ah.. It’s a home run of a hit. Classic comedy. God.. so what happened? What did they say to you? I can’t imagine your mom was too pleased,” he chuckles again as he looks at her.

“Well,” she says smiling, turning her head to look out at the ocean, then back at him. “My sister was still vomiting, so that took precedence. I still had a firm grasp on Bill’s hair, and I wasn’t letting go. My mother looked at my father and he nodded. He caught my eye in the rear view mirror and I knew I was in trouble. I let go of Bill’s hair and put my hands in my lap, so worried about what was going to happen..”

As she continues the story, she remembers how she felt that day. How her father’s eyes had burned into hers. The nervousness she felt, her cheeks burning. When her father had started to pull over at the nearest rest area, her heart was pounding.

Her mother had jumped out of the car as soon as they stopped, to take care of Melissa and Charlie went crying with them. She and Bill sat in the car, while her father started rifling for something in the back of the car. He walked past her door and told her to come with him. Her heart dropped into her stomach and her legs felt like they were made of lead.

When she started to walk away, she had looked back at Bill. He was out of the car and leaning against the hood. He had given her such a condescending smirk, she almost flew at him. But, she had kept walking. Her father had walked past the view of the car. He sat on the curb and patted the space next to him. She knew this was it and she had to face the music. When she sat down, he didn’t look at her, but kept his head turned away.

She had felt sweat dripping down her back, her palms sweating, and her heart pounding. When her dad finally turned toward her, he had a huge grin on his face. She knew hers showed puzzlement. What was happening?

“Mrs. O’Malley, Dana?” he had said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Mrs. O’Malley?” Mulder asks, bringing her back to the present. Lost in her thoughts of that warm day, she shivers slightly in the chill ocean breeze. He sees her body give an almost imperceptible shake. He hands her his shoes and takes off his jacket. As he wraps it around her shoulders, she smiles so tenderly at him, he feels his heart turn over. God, he loves her.

“You’ll be cold now,” she says, feeling his fingers brush her neck when he fixes the collar. She shivers and he pulls her toward him. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tight. He rubs his hands up and down her back, loving the feel of her body against him. She fits so perfectly in his arms, it’s as if she was made for him and him alone.

“Nah,” he says as he steps back to let her put the jacket on properly. He takes his shoes back and then reaches in the pockets of his jacket for hers, holding the small shoes on his long fingers. She slides her arms in the sleeves, which are much too long, but she doesn’t mind. The jacket is warm and smells of him. She loves the way he smells. A hint of the cologne she bought him for his birthday a couple years ago, laundry soap, and the scent that is just unmistakably Mulder. She takes a deep breath and looks up at him.

He is staring at her so intensely, she feels her heart stop. He lays his shoes across his palm, holding both their shoes in one hand. He traces his fingers down her cheek, then holds her neck as he leans down to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her eyes, the tip of her nose. At last he kisses her lips, softly and sweetly.

She has leaned into him, gripping his shirt, her hands barely visible under his big jacket. His fingers rub her neck, dig into her hair. She opens her mouth and his tongue slides in, caressing hers. She slides her arms around his neck and stands on her tiptoes, crashing into his body. He wraps the arm holding their shoes around her waist, and pulls her pelvis to his.

She gasps into his mouth as she feels his arousal for the second time since arriving at the beach.

Someone wolf whistles as someone else shouts “OWWWW!” causing them to break apart. Both of them are out of breath as they turn to find the owners of the voices.

Approaching them is a group of teenagers. A gaggle of boys and girls walking in two sets. The girls are giggling, at them and at the boys who apparently had done the yelling. Scully turns back to Mulder and puts her head on his chest, mumbling “this is so embarrassing.”

Mulder doesn’t feel embarrassed, not in the slightest. It took so long for them to get to this point, he’d kiss her in front of Skinner if she allowed it. He is completely crazy about her. He grins like a fool at the childish outcry from the boys, but goddamn, he gets it.

He remembers that hormonal adolescent feeling, acting braver than you are, trying to impress a girl. Remembers it? Ha! He feels it every day. Trying to impress Scully, to get her attention. How many times has he acted as much a fool as these boys have done tonight? Making innuendos, asking if his boyish agility is turning her on, showing her a strip of condoms and saying “ouch.” He has behaved just like the boys did tonight.

Christ, she makes him feel like a teenager-hot and excited and acting like a fool, trying to get the prettiest girl to notice him. He grins and yells back to the boys, “Thanks!” as Scully whips her head up and looks at him with wide eyes.

The kids laugh again, but one of the boys bravely calls back, “She’s hot!” Scully closes her eyes and begins to turn around and tell them off, when Mulder chuckles. She turns back to him and looks at him incredulously. He is beaming.

“See Scully,” he says as he adjusts their shoes again and pulls her to him with an arm around her waist. “I knew it was remotely plausible that someone might think you’re hot.” He grins at her, his eyes alight.

She looks up in his eyes and thinks of the man he was the last time he said that to her. Young, disheveled around the edges, still finding himself. He’s grown, changed, become more cautious, more concerned for her wellbeing than his own. And yet here he is, laughing at teenagers whistling at them and calling her hot. She shakes her head and smiles. He may be an adult, but he’ll always hold onto some adolescent tendencies.

He kisses her again, quickly, before she can pull away from him. He steps back from her and turns to follow the group of kids, back to the stairs, toward the pier. He wants to go use that credit card again and he sees a ferris wheel on the pier. Hopefully it will stop at the top and they can make out like teenagers. First though, she has a story to finish.

“So?” he asks, reaching for her hand again, walking closer to the water. This is their last chance to do so; they are leaving tomorrow afternoon. As he feels the cold water splash him again, he looks at her expectantly. “Scully? So, who was Mrs. O’Malley?”

She looks up at him, confused. Then it hits her, she had been in the middle of a story before his kiss had left her reeling.

Scully laughs and then sighs. “She lived a few houses from us when we were on the base. She had eight kids, Mulder, eight, and she was pregnant with her ninth.” Mulder gives a low whistle and shakes his head. “They were all relatively close in age too. She had two sets of twins and they were little hellions. We played with the older kids, but they weren’t always nice. The parents had some crazy fights, woke the neighborhood. He was gone a lot and she was home with the kids. People didn’t have nannies and sitters, especially in base housing. So, it was pretty much just her and the kids.”

Mulder stops walking and drops her hand. He bends down to pick something up and Scully looks toward the group of teenagers. They stopped walking a little ways ahead of them and are now congregated close by. The boys are pushing at each other and making loud crude sounds. The girls are talking close to one another, twirling their hair and making eyes at the boys. What different creatures we are, she thinks. What odd mating rituals we go through to prove our worthiness to one another.

She is sure there is at least one love triangle in the mix of twelve. A girl that is too shy, a boy too overzealous, two girls in “love” with one of the boys, and a boy not ready for any of this so he reverts to childish antics. The same players for all eternity, yet every generation thinks they have it all figured out.

She smiles as she watches them, remembering many nights out, just like the one they are experiencing. She was a cross between too shy and simply inexperienced. She wanted to try, but wanted to be sure she could get it right.

As she watches them now, she can imagine Mulder at that age. Tall, lanky, most likely awkward, but wanting to play it off. Oh.. she spots a kid who could be Mulder’s younger self. He is cocky to the boys, he has some swagger, he’s acting out a bit, but she sees his eyes land repeatedly on one girl in particular. The girl doesn’t seem to notice, she’s watching the other girls. Learning their social cues. God, that could be her. She smiles. Yep, same players, different generation.

“So, exactly how does the youngish woman in the shoe factor into your car trip?” Mulder asks as he stands back up, putting something in his pocket.

Scully smiles at his nickname for Mrs. O’Malley, it definitely suited her. “A week before we left on our trip, they had a doozy of a fight. He got new station orders and they would be leaving right away. Usually time was given to find housing and placements for spouses. But there were special circumstances and they had to leave right away. It wasn’t his fault, he got his orders, he had to go. I can understand her frustration and her anger, though. Eight kids Mulder. With another on the way? Yeah, that’s bound to set anyone off.”

She shook her head and looked at the kids again. The boys were still acting up, but now were wrestling in the sand. Mulder glanced over too as he heard the girls shriek when the sand flew at them. He grinned and looked back at Scully. She rolled her eyes at him, but she smiled.

“So, a crowd had gathered outside their house as their fight reached a new decibel in volume. The kids had fled into the front yard and they were watching with scared interest. Their parents were always fighting, but not like that, it must have been scary. The whole fight culminated when she threw open the upstairs window and started throwing his clothes out the window. He was yelling at her to knock it off, that she was embarrassing him. She called him a son of a bitch and to never tell her what to do again. Her kids, down on the grass, heard her and began chanting “Son of a bitch, son of a bitch!” and running around the yard. I had never heard anyone say that before, and it shook me. My father put his hand on my shoulder and it startled me. I had no idea he was even home. He told us we should go back inside now, that this was not our business and we didn’t need to gawk at our neighbors. We didn’t talk about it, but the words stuck with me. When I yelled them at Bill, I just thought they were hurtful and mean words, not a swear. My father must have realized that was what happened and found it amusing. When he sat with me on that curb, he had laughed at what I said, but also talked to me about saying those words. But Mulder,” she said turning and looking at him with a watery smile. “What I remember about that trip is not the beaches we visited or the campgrounds where we stayed. What I hold so dear in my memories is that before my father talked to me that day, he had taken two Cokes out of the cooler in the back of the car. We weren’t allowed sodas when we were younger, but my father loved them. This was his stash of drinks and I got to have a whole can of it to myself. I had been so worried about his disappointment in me, but on that hot day, on a hot cement curb, my father laughed and shared something he loved with me.”

She has tears in her eyes at the memory of her father. How he had looked when he handed her that cold can of Coke and tipped his can to hers. The coolness of the can as they sat there together, not speaking, just sitting and enjoying the soda. He never got after her for pulling Bill’s hair or punching him. He knew Bill had started it by punching Charlie. His smile to her seemed to say he was proud of her for holding her own with her big brother.

Mulder smiles at Scully, as she sniffs away her tears. He is happy she has good memories of her father. Happy that she is secure in his love and pride of her. Mulder didn’t have the same happy family memories.. but that’s not a thought for now, he thinks with a shake of his head. Right now, her story has filled him with happiness and contentment.

He pulls her to him and holds her tight. “I’m glad for your memories, Scully,” he said into her hair, in that low voice that gives her the shivers. “Glad you grew up with brothers who challenged you to stand up for yourself. Glad you had a father who recognized that as a strength and not something to quash out of you. Glad you had a sister who tried to find truths and paths beyond your own beliefs, even if you didn’t agree. Glad you had a mother who cared for you and let you follow your path and didn’t dissuade you. All of that, all those factors, they made you who you are.”

He pulls back and holds her face in his hand, tipping her chin to look in his eyes. She has tears on her cheeks, but he knows these aren’t like the ones in the restaurant. She is smiling, her eyes shining. He strokes her cheek and kisses her lightly. He rests his forehead on hers.

“I don’t want to sound like a selfish asshole here Scully, but I think your past prepared you for me. For the whirlwind of the partnership we’ve had. For the challenges we’ve faced. For the times your beliefs in science and faith have been tested but you never faltered. For the people, especially men, who have thought of and treated you as less than. For the bosses who thought you would turn tail and run when you were partnered with me. You didn’t. You stayed. You have fought beside me and for me. Your presence in my life represented everything they wanted to try and destroy, but they never wagered on you being their downfall, and my uplifter. You were exactly what I needed. You saved me, Scully. A thousand times over.” He raises his head and looks into her blue eyes that pull at him like a magnet. “Thank you Scully. Thank you for saving me and being who I needed even when I didn’t know it myself.”

She breaks down as she wraps her arms tightly around his waist and hides her face in his chest. She doesn’t know how to respond to his beautiful words. He doesn’t say them looking for a declaration back. She rubs her face across his chest, as much to take a moment as to get rid of her tears. She pulls back and puts her hands on his face, bringing his lips to hers. She kisses him softly as she runs her nails across his neck, drawing him in.

She tries to put a promise in her kiss. A promise that she will always be there to uplift him, to fight for him, and be on his side. She wraps her arms around his neck, breaking from the kiss, and holding him close. She puts her mouth against his ear and whispers “Thank you, Mulder” before kissing his cheek, pulling back and smiling at him.

They stand there smiling at each other until they both hear the kids shrieking again. She shakes her head and sighs while Mulder laughs and looks down at his feet. Then above the noise, a girl calls to one of the boys, “I thought you said we were going to the arcade? Going to play some games?”

Mulder’s head snaps up. His eyes are wide and his mouth drops open. “An arcade, Scully?” He raises his eyebrows and smiles.

She smiles, shakes her head again, but turns to start walking toward the stairs and the possibility of an arcade. “Who knows Mulder,” she says with laughter in her voice. “Maybe there is some kind of first person shooter game, so you have the chance to get your ya-yas out.”

He laughs as he starts to follow her.

“Oh but Mulder,” she says, stopping and turning around. She looks at him with a twinkle in her eyes, as she places a hand on his chest. “If a Miss Jade Blue Afterglow shows up, I may feel the need to blast the crap out of something.” They both grin and she turns to keep walking.

He grabs her elbow and stops her. He steps in front of her, meeting her eyes. “She can’t hold a candle to you, Scully. Never could.” He reaches for her hand, locks their fingers, and squeezes. She gives him a radiant smile and he nods.

He turns toward the group of teenagers who are starting to walk away. “Hey!” He calls out to them. “Did one of you say something about an arcade?”

#walking on the beach #sharing memories #coming closer together #laughing and kissing #happy so goddamn happy

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high5nerd · 5 years

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The Misadventures of Fanty and Pitch Black---Chap. Five

Since it was Halloween, Fanty arranged a party with everyone, including Pitch. The Nightmare King watched Fanty set up streamers of gold, black and orange, and blow up balloons of black and orange. She set out a pile of Blu-Ray DVDs like The Nightmare before Christmas, A Charlie Brown Halloween, Sleepy Hollow, and her Harry Potter collection. She even baked a giant cake that looked like half a pumpkin, lit orange candles on the table, and set up bowls of popcorn, m&ms, caramels, gummy bears and lollipops near the TV. Pitch was offered to help cook the chicken fingers, but he ended up just putting the ketchup and BBQ sauce on the table instead.

Fanty didn't like how he handled the stove.

What really creeped the hell out of Pitch was that Fanty dressed for the party. He knew kids did for Halloween, but not teens. Apparently he needs to really learn more in order to become stronger and take in more fear. She dressed as a pirate, with the whole embroidered coat, feathered hat, heavy boots and swashbuckling cutlass. Good thing the cutlass was fake, because she whacked him with it when he tried sneaking a caramel.

It startled him even more that everyone else wore costumes as well. Mystic was the first to arrive with a bowlful of fruit salad, dressed as Artemis Fowl. She looked very fancy and mature in the costume, unlike Angel, who dressed as a giant kitten with the bell and everything. Xion dressed as a man named Doctor Who, who Pitch didn't really know but the name sure did sound familiar. He must have heard his name while searching for fear. Star dressed as a mermaid, and she even dyed her hair a bright blue and green and painted scales on her legs that almost looked real. Drago was the last to arrive, but came with the delicious mint fudge and bottles of root beer, cream soda and Sprite. She wore a shaded hat, a whip by her side, high brown boots, a leather jacket that looked well worn, light brown pants and a button up.

"Indiana Jones." She smiled at Pitch, shaking his hand while trying to balance the tray of mint fudge in one arm.

"Wow." Pitch could only blurt.

The merriment lasted for about four hours, just three hours to midnight. Music blared from the stereo, and all the girls jumped to dance to Thriller. Pitch simply watched and ate caramels to his heart's content, pretending to be bored but really fascinated by their way of celebration. It was strange, because he was so used to people shuddering and hiding from fear while these girls literally laughed at its ugly face. He couldn't help but smile at their bravery.

After eating to their fill of dinner consisting of chicken fingers, fruit salad, French fries and pasta, they sat around the TV, surrounding Pitch completely and blocking off any escape. Fanty sat to his right and Angel to his left.

"So what's it like being immortal?" Drago asked, resting her head in her hand as she slowly chewed on a caramel.

"Boring at times, but you certainly have your freedoms." Pitch honestly replied, feeling oddly warm and flattered at the attention that was on him.

"What do you do for fun?" Xion asked, leaning forward as if Pitch were to tell a secret.

Pitch shrugged indifferently, "Sometimes I like to go for a ride on one of my nightmares or take a stroll through the forest. Maybe even read a good book."

"Really? Have you read Brothers' Grimm?" Xion beamed, her eyes shining.

Pitch nodded, and started listing off his fingers, "Edgar Allen Poe, Shakespeare, Grimm, Algernon Blackwood, H.P. Lovecraft, Stephen King, you name it."

Fanty rested a hand on his arm, and he looked at her. She gave him a warning look, a look that really made her appear like the pirate she dressed as. "Be careful, Pitch, or Xion might swoon."

If Xion could, she'd have flowers and light flares erupting from her very body like in those animes she loved so much.

They continued to talk, making sure they avoided sensitive topics like why Pitch had contempt for certain spirits. Once it finally hit midnight, the sugar rush exploded. The girls were perky and bouncing up and down, wild smiles on their faces. Pitch couldn't help but laugh at them. They all voted to watch The Nightmare before Christmas, and Fanty quickly popped it in before snuggling up into the couch once the movie started.

Everyone laughed at certain parts and enjoyed the film, but Pitch and the girls-besides Fanty-laughed at the introduction to Oogie Boogie. Once the shot of his actual buggy form came forth from the shadows to torment Santa Claus, Fanty gasped and jumped behind the sofa, peeking out so only her hat to her eyes could be seen. Pitch laughed cruelly, understanding why Oogie Boogie freaked her out. All those bugs crawling out of him didn't scare him, but it did gross him out. Still, the music was entertaining. Everyone turned from the screen to watch Pitch, who tapped his foot along with the music and had a happy smile on his face as he bobbed his head side to side. He imagined himself in Oogie Boogie's place and North in Santa Claus's place, strapped to the table after being kidnapped.

But then Fanty and the girls giggled at Pitch's face during Jack and Sally's duet, which was twisted into a grimace.

"They just had to put romance in it. Maybe if he bit off her arm I would rate it five stars." Pitch said as everyone sat in a circle in Fanty's living room, the lights dim and the candles lit to tell ghost stories.

"Jack does have scary looking teeth." Mystic nodded, understanding where Pitch was coming from.

"I dunno, romance is pretty cute. Just not for some movies." Fanty said dreamily.

Pitch scoffed and shoved a lollipop in her mouth, and she glared at him, but then began eating it since it was in fact her favorite kind.

"Pitch, have you ever been in a relationship?" Drago asked, playing with her candy wrapper.

Fanty choked on her lollipop as she hooted with laughter, causing half of the girls to glare at her or smirk. Pitch gave her a look, and without a warning, growled and bared his teeth at her with his fingers curled, getting into the right light of the candle to accent his cheekbones and his eyes and teeth. Fanty shrieked, and then slapped the lollipop onto his nose, and Pitch exclaimed at the disgusting cavity on a stick that was glued to his nose.

Drago, Xion, Mystic, Star and Angel burst out laughing, making Fanty grin happily that she was able to outmaneuver Pitch without making a mess. Pitch finally yanked off the lollipop from his nose and tossed it into a nearby garbage can, before gently rubbing his nose at the feeling of air hitting his skin.

"But really, have you?" Star asked, eager to know.

Pitch cast one glare at Fanty before replying, "Yes, I have."

Everyone gasped. "Really?! Who!? Mother Nature?!"

Pitch looked horrified, "She's my daughter!"

Everyone held up their hands in apology, and Pitch could tell from their wide eyes they meant no harm and they sincerely were sorry. The pose they were all doing looked as if they were about to do a ritual in a witch's coven.

"Awkward!" Xion exclaimed, and Star couldn't help but laugh it off.

"We're sorry, Pitch. We're not very knowledgeable on spirits and stuff you're so used to." Drago said with a gently smile, handing him a napkin to get rid of the remaining lollipop goo on his nose.

"And I asked about the Tooth Fairy earlier, and that was a definite no." Fanty informed the five other girls, who nodded understandingly.

"I was married before I became the Nightmare King," Pitch said lowly, really not wanting to talk about it, "I had a daughter, too."

"Was that daughter Mother Nature?" Mystic asked.

Pitch nodded, and something in Fanty clicked. She could see he didn't want to talk about this, so she vouched for him immediately, "Hey! Let's hear Pitch share a scary story. I bet he's really good at it!"

Everyone agreed with unison of "Yeah!" and compliments on his work as the Boogeyman and making Halloween so spooky. Pitch felt truthfully flattered, and he couldn't help but smile proudly as he shifted his legs, making him look even taller than he was before.

"Well, I am pretty talented. Hmm…which story?" Pitch playfully tapped his chin, and the six girls grinned and leaned forward, wanting to hear the best horror story from him.

"Ah! Well, long ago, during my first centuries as the Boogeyman, there was this tiny village somewhere in Mexico, and in this village was this beautiful woman named Maria. She was loved by far, and I couldn't blame them. She had silky looking hair that nearly reached the floor, and her eyes were the color of rich chocolate. Back then, chocolate was a luxury, but she received so much of it, it made her fill with pride at knowing how beautiful she was."

"She sounds high-strung." Fanty crinkled her nose, but the other girls shushed her for Pitch to continue.

"But then this traveler came into the village, and once he saw Maria, he fell in love just like the rest of the men. But unlike them, he was persistent, clever, and knew just how to woo her and earn her heart. Maria, thinking he was the perfect match for her since he was handsome, fell in love with him and immediately agreed to his marriage proposal. It sounds promising, does it not? They even had two beautiful children, and they seemed to be such a happily family. But…"

"There it is, the but!" Xion exclaimed, and Drago covered her mouth with her hand, enraptured with the story and Pitch's deep, velvety voice.

"Maria's husband returned to the praries, where he originally came from. Days turned into weeks, and he would then leave at dawn and return in time for supper. Maria, confused and suspicious at his departures, asked the other villagers where he goes, yet none knew. She knew he would come back, for he always did. Just before their two children got into bed, he would come home and spend time with them, like telling tales of his adventures and his family's history. Yet…he paid no attention to Maria. She was starting to get irritated. Was he no longer enraptured with her beauty? Her suspicions got the best of her, and slowly she grew more angry every day he left. But one fateful Sunday, a day of Sabbath, Maria's husband admitted to seeing another woman of his own class and wanting to never see her again.

Maria was furious. Her anger turned into red-hot hate. She even started to hate her own children, for they got his attention and love when she received none. To her, it was their fault. But that afternoon she was on a stroll with her two children, her not-so-faithful husband drove by in a richly decorated carriage, and sitting beside him was a wealthy looking woman. He only stopped to greet his kids, wish them a pleasant day and continued on down the road.

That caused the final blow to Maria's pride, for she was so angry and spiteful, she grabbed her kids by their necks and threw them into the river, and they drowned."

"Oh no…" Drago whimpered, her eyes widening in shock.

"But just as their bodies floated down the river, she realized the horrible mistake she made. She cried out in fear, and tried to reach for them, but they were gone. The following morning, a lone traveler on his way home found her dead body by the side of the river. The village buried her in the exact spot where she was found dead.

Yet…every night, the villagers could hear a woman crying in the night, somewhere close to the river. She cried for her children. A foolish villager went out around midnight to confront the sound, but never returned nor was heard from again. Some say her red-hot anger turned her eyes red and she attacked him, drowning him just like how she drowned her kids. Even now, she still roams the rivers, sobbing for her children."

Pitch looked at every individual girl, and grinned in victory. They all shook with fear, had gumball sized eyes and were either biting at their nails or hugging themselves, their mouths wide open.

"I've heard the story before," Mystic finally choked out, "But you made it ten times creepier."

"You definitely have the voice for it." Drago nodded in agreement to Angel's opinion.

"Well! I think that sums up this party. Bedtime!" Pitch clapped his hands, like he was the king of the court.

All the girls groaned and whined, falling limply to the floor in a mini tantrum. Well, besides Drago. She merely shrugged while looking at her watch, knowing Pitch was right. She was the most mature of the group anyways.

"Aww, why!?"

"Do we have to?"

"Noooo…."

"I don't wanna."

"This isn't fair!"

Pitch grabbed at his hair, feeling ashamed. "Oh MiM, I feel like I'm your father. This is terrible."

After everyone left, everything was cleaned up and Fanty was out like a light and sleeping in her bed, Pitch sat on the couch in the living room, peering at the DVD case of Sleepy Hollow.

This story was true, he thought to himself, flipping it over to see the actors in the movie, I remember. The sense of fear was so thick. Even I couldn't approach the Headless Horseman. Not that I was scared. He was just rude.

He silently put the DVD case down and rubbed at his head out of exhaustion. What am I even doing? Why am I even sticking around here? I could just leave and never come back. The thought made him sit up and berate himself, You wished day and night for someone to accept you, and you finally got your wish. Granted, they may be insane teenagers, but you were having fun and you like having them around, admit it.

"Darn. I'm stuck." Pitch muttered to himself, standing up in frustration and pacing over to the window, where he could see Man in Moon shine brightly in the navy blue sky.

He glared at the moon, and hissed rudely, "You did this, didn't you? Fate. This was all fate caused by you."

Pitch listened to his reply, and scoffed. "Don't play dumb. Why do you choose to speak to me now and not when I needed you most?"

He listened again, and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Dark Ages Shmark Ages."

He waited. He then furrowed his eyebrows and spat, "I am not turning into Fanty!"

But then Man in Moon said something that caught his attention. "Wait, why do I need her?"

Man in Moon explained himself, watching Pitch's expression fall from suspicious confusion to utter disbelief. "Wait…I'm…why?"

Man in Moon was silent for a minute, and tried explaining that he was trying to help Pitch, but Pitch was…scared. He was too scared. He stepped away from the window, half hidden from the line of sight of the moon.

"But why? Why am I dying?"

#rotg #rise of the guardians #rise of the guardian fanfics #fanfiction #fanfics #pitch black

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vgperson · 6 years

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What Did I Translate in 2018?

#vgperson

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pickalilywrites · 6 years

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If you're taking request for stories could I request a follow up to Sasha and Gabi in the daycare AU? I thought it was cute.

Reiner is the fun cousin

Little Monster

Sasha Braus. Gabi Braun. Preschool AU.

1617 words.

It’s not often that she has to call in the parents or guardians of her students – preschoolers can be unruly now and again, but she’s found that you could give them a cookie and read them a book and they’ll go right to sleep – but she finds that it’s better to have weekly meetings with Gabi Braun because of the crazy antics she gets up to. Sasha would much rather prefer to talk to Gabi’s actual parents, but her parents are oftentimes MIA, leaving Sasha to talk with Reiner, Gabi’s much older cousin and one of Sasha’s old high school classmates.

“Her parents couldn’t make it again?” Sasha asks, but it’s less of a question and more of a statement of fact. She’s sent numerous letters – both handwritten and through the internet – to Mr. And Mrs. Braun, but she’s always been shrugged off by then. She’s beginning to think that maybe they don’t really exist, like the Boogie Man or the Loch Ness Monster.

“Nope, but you get to see me again!” Reiner says cheerfully. His cousin Gabi runs in like a bullet, dashing around the room and knocking things over gleefully. It’s always so strange how energetic and playful she is even if the room is empty. It seems that Reiner is used to the destruction though because he only looks at Gabi affectionately and says to Sasha, “So what’s up with her this week?”

Sasha sighs and pulls out a chair for Reiner before sitting across from him. She steeples her fingers together, something she only does when she’s incredibly frustrated. Taking a deep breath, she says, “Reiner, Gabi’s been biting everyone.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Biting everything? I thought she was out of her teething phase a long time ago,” he says.

“No, not everything,” Sasha says. God, sometimes talking to Reiner about these things was more frustrating than talking to a room full of preschoolers. She takes another breath and looks at him seriously, hoping that he won’t simply brush this off as a joke like he usually does. “I’m saying that she bites everyone. She bit two kids yesterday and the day before that she almost bit off Jean’s finger! And you know how little he gets along with her already.”

Instead of looking concerned even a little, Reiner looks amused. “Well, I bet Jean deserved it anyway. You know how he gets sometimes.” He smirks, but it does little to make Sasha feel any better.

“No, no, this is not okay,” Sasha says. She hates that she’s using her lecturing voice on a grown man, but sometimes Reiner can be such a child. She rubs her temples and sighs. “I just…why is she suddenly biting everyone?” Sasha ignores the clattering of colored pencils falling on the ground behind her and instead fixates her glare onto Reiner.

“Gee, I don’t know,” Reiner shrugs. He scratches the back of his neck as he tries to think of the reason why Gabi could possibly be acting this way. “I guess she has been rather bite-y lately – she’s bitten me once or twice lately – but I don’t think that’s abnormal for a child, right? Maybe she’s hungry or something. You let them eat snacks, right?”

“Yes,” Sasha says through gritted teeth.

“Well then I can’t think of anything else that would make her act this way,” Reiner says. He’s already packing up to leave, not at all concerned that tomorrow Sasha will continue to deal with this problem. She shouldn’t be at all disappointed. It’s not like he’s been any help any of the previous times either. “Come on, Gabi, let’s go!”

From out of the bathroom, a small figure wrapped entirely in toilet paper toddles over to where Reiner is, arms outstretched. She has such a smug expression on her face and it’s hard to be angry at her even if she did take a few days’ supply of toilet paper and wrap it around her body.

“Reiner, guess what I am!” Gabi says giddily. She raises her arms so that he can pick her up.

“You’re a mummy, aren’t you?” Reiner laughs, picking her up and swinging her around. The extra toilet paper that dangles from her limbs swirl around her like streamers. “And what an impressive mummy you are!”

“I’m not a mummy!” Gabi says indignantly. She swings a fist that nearly hits Reiner in the face, but she misses. “I’m a zombie, like in The Walking Dead!”

The mention of the violent apocalyptic zombie show startles Sasha and she stands up immediately, her chair screeching against the tiled floor. “Did she just say ‘Walking Dead’?” she asks incredulously. She looks from Reiner to Gabi, not knowing who to address next. She picks Gabi in the end, knowing that the child will be less likely to lie to her. Trying to compose herself, Sasha takes a deep breath and asks calmly, “Gabi, do you watch The Walking Dead with cousin Reiner?”

“Yup! We watch it every weekend,” Gabi says happily, much to the panic of the Reiner that holds her. “It’s so cool! The zombies eat everyone!”

“Reiner, you shouldn’t be watching that sort of stuff with Gabi, you know that,” Sasha says. Sometimes she can’t believe he graduated from high school, but, no, she was there when they called his name and even watched him walk across the stage to shake hands with the principal and receive his diploma. Whoever let that happen clearly made a big mistake.

“Aw, why not? It’s a fun show, and it’s not like she’s killing anyone by biting them,” Reiner says. He reaches out to pat Gabi affectionately on the head, but she snatches his hand and chomps on hit hard. Sasha can tell that it’s taking all his restraint not to cry out and he instead gives Sasha a strained smile. “See? Still alive. I’m sure you’ll figure this all out in the end, Sasha.”

“Reiner, you’re bleeding.”

“See you next time, Sasha!” Reiner calls, ignoring her and walking out the door with his little zombified cousin.

Sasha sighs. It really does look like she’ll have to solve this on her own. Again. Why does she even bother meeting with Reiner if it always ends up like this?

Jean leans against the doorway, watching the kids as they ran around the playground. He looks over lazily at Sasha, who was keeping a close eye on Gabi.

“So, did you figure out a way to make her stop eating everyone?” he asks her. He’s been avoiding Gabi completely, leaving Sasha to take care of the child all on her own. Not that that’s any different from usual, to be honest.

Sasha gives him a smug grin. “I have an idea.”

Just as Gabi zips past, chasing after a panicked Falco who was desperate to get away from her open jaws, Sasha bends down and catches her. Although Gabi struggles to get out of Sasha’s grip, Sasha’s had too much experience with wiggling children to let her get away and sits down with Gabi wriggling around in her lap.

“Finally, gotcha!” Sasha said, grinning widely at the little girl in her clutches.

“Not if I eat you first!” Gabi yells, she opens and closes her mouth. She might think it looks like a fearsome shark of some sort, but it only reminds Sasha of a cute little guppy.

“Wait!” Sasha cries, waving an exaggerated hand at Gabi. Her large hand gestures are always enchanting to children for some reason and it’s enough to get Gabi to sit still for a second. “I know a monster even more fearsome than zombies! I have faced them, trained with them, and mastered their technique!”

Even some of the other children are watching now, gathering around Sasha to hear the rest of her story.

Gabi’s eyes are as round as saucers and she leans in closely, curious to hear more about this monster. “What is it? What does it do?”

Sasha looks at all of them solemnly. “They were called tickle monsters and they could defeat zombies by the hundreds. Thousands even,” Sasha tells them. She lowers her voice, making them lean in even more. “And their secret technique…tickling!”

She tickles Gabi lightly under the chin and the child bursts into a fit of giggles. She wiggles desperately, trying to escape from Sasha’s tickle attack, but it takes her a while to finally free herself. Once she finally does, she takes a few steps back, her face red from all of the laughing.

Raising a hand, she looks at all of the other children around her and cries, “Hurry, tickle Miss Sasha!”

The little fingers of the children attempt to get a giggle out of Sasha – they reach for her under her chin, her armpits, her stomach – but none of them get out even a little laugh. Even Jean is a little baffled.

“I’m immune,” Sasha explains, winking at Jean. Then she turns to the children. “But do you know who isn’t…?” She nods her head ever so subtly at Jean.

It takes him a while to notice that all the kids are slowly turning on him and when he does figure out what’s going on, it’s too late. By the time he begins running, the children tackle him to the ground and tickle them as hard as they can. He’s dissolved in a puddle of laughter in a matter of seconds.

The rest of the week they have to deal with all of the kids chasing after each other and trying to tickle each other to death, but it’s a lot better than having them bite each other. Jean, of course, disagrees, but she’ll work on that later.

#snk #gabi braun #sasha braus #preschool au #reiner braun #jean kirstein #requests #asks #answered #anon #anonymous #the kind of wholesome content the fandom deserves #rip in pieces jean

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russianspy24 · 6 years

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Devils in the Windy City - Chapter 7

Summary: Elijah travels to Chicago, led by a vague prophecy about a girl who could be the Mikaelson family’s salvation. Klaus soon confronts him, and later Rebekah is drawn into another case of family drama. However, this trip to the Windy City turns out to be longer than a short stint. The Mikaelsons discover that their lives may change forever. Including every other vampire’s.

Word Count: 7,786

Author’s Note: This story is posted on FF.net and AO3, and since I’m on Tumblr, decided to post it here. ‘Bout time I’d say. Hopefully you read and enjoy!

Warnings: Rated M

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter 7: Unwanted Guests

The daycare was ordinary. It was a one-story rectangular building that could’ve once been a Verizon Wireless store or maybe one of those family owned furniture stores. Now, colorful paper cut outs of flowers, trees, bunnies, and bumble bees were stuck to the glass of the large windows. The sign above said Children’s Land. The blinds were partially open, revealing rooms with kids. Children were also playing outside in the fenced-in area to the side of the building. The area had a playground, a small field of grass and a cluster of trees. The parking lot was empty mostly, as it wasn’t time yet for the parents to come retrieve their offspring.

Three adults, who were women, monitored the kids outside. One of them was Ollie, who was the youngest. The other two women were older.

It was a sunny, noon spring day, warm enough that hats or scarves weren’t needed, but jackets remained on. A child with a runny nose came running to them and said, “Miss Ollie, Miss Ollie, I need a tissue.”

“That’s not how we ask, Jake,” she said pointedly.

“Please can I have a tissue?” the boy amended with a sniffle.

“Yes, you can.” Ollie squatted and produced a plastic pack of said tissues. She raised it to the four-year-old boy’s nose and said, “Blow,” and he blew with all his might and she nodded curtly, saying, “Good.” After she made sure he had no more boogies, he lingered.

“I’m hungry,” he said with a whine.

Ollie stood and looked down at him with a raised eyebrow, her fist with the tissue at her hip. “Lunch is after playtime. Twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?” gasped the boy. “But that’s soo long away.”

The other two ladies chuckled like hens.

“Be patient, Jacob,” one of them said. The woman was the tallest and rail thin with white hair. “Go play.”

“But…” the boy pouted.

“Go on, buddy. You heard Miss Tonya.” Ollie gave the boy a mock-stern look, which he took very seriously, and then turned around to go back to the other kids.

“A look from you, they march away,” the third lady said, shaking her head. She had short, graying red hair. She also had a thick Eastern European accent.

Ollie grinned and pocketed the crumpled tissue and the rest of the package inside her cargo jacket, giving the woman a sidelong glance. Ollie’s dark hair was up in a ponytail, loose strands fluttering in the wind. “My kids fall apart when I leave, Marfa,” she sighed dramatically. “I come back and they’re demanding and whining.”

“We have to watch our kids and yours. What do you expect? They had substitute for four days,” Marfa said.

“Hey, I didn’t go on vacation,” Ollie countered.

Tonya nudged the younger woman with her elbow. “We know, we know. We just like to give you a hard time.”

“My Timofey said the compote you shared with the pack was better,” Marfa said. “Better than last month’s. Is it new recipe?”

Ollie tilted her head, looking thoughtfully at the playing kids. “I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe my friend Liza said she added more honey in it. I have no idea. But yeah, it was better.”

“Well, whatever she did, Tim said to continue making it like that. I know wolfsbane takes like zhopa.” Ass.

“There’s nothing you can compare it to. It burns your mouth like it’s on fire and takes like gavno,” Ollie said to Marfa. Shit.

“What’s the difference?” Marfa said.

“Trust me. You should be glad you don’t know,” Ollie said with a raised brow.

Marfa’s husband was like Ollie, and Tonya’s in-laws were a part of the pack, so by default, she was, too. The kids ran around like puppies, chasing each other. Every kid’s family was associated with the suburban wolves in some way, whether directly or indirectly. Some were from American wolf families.

Ollie knew how lucky she was that the daycare was so accommodating. It was like one huge family of sorts. She wasn’t necessarily invited to every christening, but the ties were unbreakable. Most people couldn’t be a lone wolves.

Tonya went off to reprimand a couple of boys. Marfa went to take a little girl to potty. Ollie stood alone in the shade of the building and watched as two more little girls brought her a small bouquet of dandelions. It was impossible to linger in the mental clusterfuck of the full moon that had just passed—not when around children. Ollie loved them. No matter what mood she was in, they made her happy.

She raised the dandelions to her face, brushed them against her nose. The wind stirred, a cool breeze, promising summer around the corner. The air here wasn’t as clean as it was where the pack went during their time of the month—the sparsely populated area north of Rock City, by the Wisconsin border—but it was still pleasant.

With the breeze carried the blooming scent of the trees, the smell of the clouds, and the avoidable exhaust of cars on the street. Ollie’s gaze followed the notes in the breeze and looked to the cars that passed. Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry for lunch, too. Most wolves had huge appetites, whether or not the curse was triggered. As much as she loved to cook, Ollie was going to make a quick run while the kids napped to get Marfa, Tonya, and herself sushi across the street.

The joint was small and quaint but had the best maki rolls—in her opinion, anyway. One of those hole-in-the-wall places with a big Buddha by the front and a neon flashing sign that said Sushi! It was usually busy during lunch. They had specials until 4 in the evening.

A man sat at the front windows with a clear view across the street. He was sipping hot sake, which wasn’t half bad, popping edamame into his mouth and dropping the shells into an extra bowl that came with. He was gazing out the window casually. He looked like any of the other patrons that came in to have lunch solo.

“Your Chicago Crazy roll, Viking roll, and the Moonlight roll,” said the waiter, who finally brought the man his food. The arrangement was on a large flat white plate that was decorated with some kind of soy glaze.

“Thank you, and another large sake,” the man said. He’d already finished the first karaf and tossed the last small ceramic shot back. He didn’t look remotely buzzed. He seemed to have a high tolerance.

However, the waiter didn’t comment and simply bobbed his head, taking the karaf away and going off to fetch a new one.

“Let’s see if these are any good,” the man said. He had a distinct English accent. The Moonlight roll in particular had slices of radishes on each piece. They resembled the sphere that hung in the sky at night. How clever.

Knowing how to use chopsticks like most people, Klaus picked up one of the pieces and popped it into his mouth. With an expressionless face, he chewed. When he swallowed, an eyebrow quirked up. “Not half bad.”

He forewent the soy sauce and directed his chopsticks straight to the round glob of wasabi that had been provided next to the ginger slices, and picked a pea-sized amount with the tips of the wood. He proceeded to try the rest of the rolls when his new sake appeared, and he distractedly thanked the waiter, waving off his, “How are you liking it so far?”

Klaus started to feel a little warmth inside his skull by the time that he finished the second karaf. It took a lot for him to feel the effects of alcohol, but no matter—he hadn’t been planning to get drunk, anyway. And sushi wasn’t really why he’d gone out of his way to eat in the sleepy suburbs of Chicago.

When he was finished eating, he looked up to see a new customer enter the establishment. He hadn’t sat right by the door but close enough for him to get a good view.

The girl was short with dark hair, which was up in a ponytail. The jacket she had on was loose, unbuttoned, but her jeans hugged her legs in all the right places and were tight at her behind in particular. Klaus watched as she told the hostess she had a pickup order by the name of Ollie. She was told that it would be out in the minute, so Ollie took a seat on the bench against the wall. This put her directly across from Klaus.

He watched her without taking his eyes off of her while he waited for his check. She, on the other hand, didn’t look to find him staring at her. Like many people nowadays, she busied herself with looking at her phone in her lap.

He took in her features—the subtle way she’d react to whatever she was looking at on her device. Her dark eyebrows arched up ever so slightly, and her full lips curved at their corners. He had no idea what she was looking at it. Maybe it was puppies, or shoes, or a post on Facebook. He himself didn’t use social media.

His blue-green eyes trailed down her face, her neck, to her exposed bosom. It was the way she was sitting, slightly hunched forward, legs crossed and one of her elbows on a knee; the way her t-shirt sagged at the v-neck collar. She had a nice pair. He thought that she was good-looking. Her face was soft, round-shaped. Her gaze was doe-eyed, deep set. But it was her eyebrows that made her look far from innocent. She was supposed to be a wolf after all.

A man came out of the kitchen, the fabric partition flapping behind him, and he held out a plastic bag with three boxes in it. Ollie stood up and pocketed her phone, thanking him. It was as she was turning to head to the exit that another man stepped before her. She looked up as he held open the door.

“After you,” Klaus said. It was hard to ignore his accent. He was long used to the doubletakes that woman gave him when they heard it. Ollie was no different.

She opened her mouth, hesitating very briefly, and then smiled coyly and walked ahead of him into the breezy spring air.

“I’ll have to keep this little hole-in-the-wall in mind,” he said behind her. “The food was surprisingly good.”

She looked at him over her shoulder quickly. One eyebrow rose above the other one. “Yeah, the sushi is good here.”

His own smile dimpled his face, and he watched her go toward the street, but not without one last look at him. Her expression was slightly bemused. She knew that he’d been checking her out. He didn’t follow her, though. He didn’t even consider it. He’d only come to watch from afar. Plus, he didn’t want her getting suspicious. A proper meeting was in order for later.

###

As soon as he heard the word “walk” utter from either of the girls’ mouths, Ramsey was rushing to the front door and prancing in circles, his curled tail wagging. It was his last walk of the night, and although usually it was conducted by one girl, Ollie was going to accompany her friend and roommate. Safety was number one priority. Being protective was one of Ollie’s positive qualities. She might’ve been bossy due to working with children all the time, but she was certainly maternal.

“You’re like my guard dog,” Liza joked as she put on her coat.

Ollie rolled her eyes. “Until we can figure out what the fuck to do with the vampire.” Liza took a small can of pepper spray just in case, pocketed it. Ollie leashed up Ramsey. “But I’ll ask one of the guys I know. I’ll ask him and see if he can come over, watch us.”

“Like a guard dog?” Liza said with a smirk. Despite her inner trepidation, she opened the door. The small hallway was empty. The one with the keys, she ended up locking their apartment behind them.

“Yeah. Don’t call any other wolf that,” Ollie said with a scoff. “Especially not a guy.”

Ramsey rushed down the stairs, pulling Ollie, who held on tight. Liza did feel a semblance of calm knowing that her dog would be the first one to sense trouble. At the same time, she really didn’t want to think about any danger befalling the canine. Ollie reined him with surprising strength. To those who didn’t know her, the way she looked was deceiving.

Ramsey had a long pee in the small front yard within the fence, as always. Half-jokingly Liza said, “Okay, we can go inside now.”

Ollie answered with a scolding note. “We’re going to walk him down the block at least. He needs a walk.” She gave Liza a pointed, sidelong stare.

“I know, I know,” Liza said quickly. They walked alongside each other onto the sidewalk. Liza took out a pack of cigarettes and started to light one. “I was going to get some vervain.” Since the herb was known to repel vampires.

“Good idea,” Ollie approved. She held out her hand for a cigarette of her own. She didn’t smoke often but wanted one sometimes, especially when she was on edge. They periodically stopped while the Akita marked trees and plants.

Liza exhaled a white plume of smoke while looking at the street. A couple of cars passed. “I’ll have to go into the suburbs for that.”

Ollie held Liza’s lighter back to her and inhaled out of her own cigarette. “To that one apothecary?”

Liza looked over her shoulder. No one was behind them. “No, I wanted to go to this Asian one I know of. I don’t want to run into any Russian witches.”

Ollie regarded her seriously. “I think you should just suck it up and get the damn vervain.”

Liza narrowed her gaze. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

Ollie spoke quietly but it was a harsh whisper. “You don’t think I know what it’s like? Really? I can’t go to the burbs without seeing someone I know, asking me if I found a mate yet, or when I’m going to have babies, because most girls my age are already getting married and having a litter.”

Liza huffed a chuckle and shook her head, watching Ramsey. “Oh yeah, you’re such an old maid at 24. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Ollie gave her a mock-offended look. “I’m just saying.”

Liza shrugged her shoulders. “They’re weird around people who aren’t in a coven.”

Ollie got defensive on her friend’s behalf. “Who cares? Fuck them. You never wanted to be in anyone’s coven anyway. Do you want me to come with you?”

Liza shook her head quickly. “They’ll just think that you want something from them.”

“So?” Ollie didn’t give a rat’s ass.

Liza glowered at the prospect but waved off her offer. “Just forget it. You being there will make it weirder. I’ll go tomorrow.”

Maybe most witches had vervain on hand at the back of the herb cabinet in their witchy laboratories, but that wasn’t Liza. She didn’t have a potions cabinet and neither did she have a place to mix stuff. She just used the kitchen when she needed to make Ollie’s wolfsbane mix. As much as she really didn’t want to go to the apothecary, which was actually disguised as one of those family-owned pharmacies, she had to. Precaution won over apprehension.

The girls walked to the end of the block and then turned back. Ramsey pooped thankfully, and Liza picked it up. There were absolutely no vampires sighted. Ramsey would’ve alerted them.

###

It was about half an hour later, when the girls were back inside, that someone rang the doorbell of the landlord downstairs.

The old man opened the door with a “who on God’s green earth would ring the doorbell at this hour?” type look. But before he could so much as utter, “Who are y--” Niklaus gave him a deadly smile.

“Doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is that you are the lord of this domain and I need your permission to enter. While it is a cumbersome rule I must follow, I suppose I should be grateful that lease agreements are not considered a part of said rule. So I have to only get through you, and then I am free to confront those two,” Klaus looked up at the ceiling, “lovely ladies that you have as tenants.”

“My tenants? What are you doing—who are you?” Stan was sputtering. This stranger was speaking so, well, strangely and quickly, that the landlord had a hard time following. A woman peeked her head through the doorway behind her.

Klaus saw her—his wife, probably. “Well, hello, ma’am. I don’t want to end up killing you as well.” He frowned falsely. “It would be far too much of a mess.”

The old couple gasped. Klaus rolled on the balls of his feet, almost giddy. The two were about to shout bloody murder and shut the door in the vampire’s face when there was a hand on Klaus’ shoulder. Elijah had appeared behind him. One look from the older Mikaelson and the couple silenced just as they were about to scream, for Elijah had stuck his foot past the doorway to stop the door from shutting.

“Now, my brother isn’t going to harm a hair on your heads,” Elijah assured, and as Klaus looked at him, Eljiah gave him a glare. “Forgive him. He beat me here. But I’m glad I got here in the nick of time.” The couple just regarded the both of them with dumbfounded expressions.

“But I like a race,” Klaus said to him. “And I like beating you.”

Elijah leaned past him to get a better lock on the humans’ gazes. “Please invite him in. I promise you two will be safe, as long as you stay inside your apartment and lock your door.”

“Like a lock could keep me out,” Klaus said.

Elijah ignored him and put a hand on his chest to keep him at bay. “Invite my brother, Niklaus, in please,” he told the couple.

Stan blinked, looking from Elijah to his brother, who pursed his lips and scowled. Stan looked a bit scared, but the compulsion was keeping him from freaking out. “Please come in, Niklaus,” he said robotically. As he backed away, so did his wife, and Elijah stepped through first.

“Thank you,” he said, ever polite. Watching them, he made sure that they retreated back into their apartment and closed the door behind them.

Klaus was already going up the stairs. Fortunately, the sound of dog barking made him pause. “Did you know they had an…animal?” he asked.

Elijah looked indifferent. “I did know. Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Canines happen to like me,” Klaus said matter-of-factly. “Perhaps I should go ahead of you.” Elijah was stepping past him.

“Let me do the introductions,” he insisted.

Liza and Ollie already knew who was coming. It was the way Ramsey started to go nuts as soon as Klaus had arrived, wanting to be let inside the two-story graystone. They were expecting the vampire—Elijah—to show up at some point. They hadn’t known when. It wasn’t like they’d exchanged numbers. So presently, Ollie stood in front of Liza, looking through the peephole. Liza had leashed Ramsey up, so she wouldn’t have to hold him by the collar.

The brothers didn’t have to knock on the door. As soon as they reached the second-floor landing, Ollie was opening the door. The man behind Elijah shifted into view and recognition flashed across her face. A little bewildered but firm, Ollie said, “We were wondering when you were going to show up.”

Liza looked back and forth between the two men. Elijah stopped an appropriate distance away. Klaus, not wanting to stand behind, shifted beside him. Before Liza could ask, Elijah was introducing his brother.

“I am so sorry that I’ve come announced again. This is my brother, Niklaus. I promise that we come in peace,” the man said, again, to reiterate what he’d told them the last time.

The girls studied them. The brothers didn’t look in any way similar. For one, Klaus was dressed casually. He wore a vintage Van Halen shirt beneath his leather jacket, unzipped, and stylishly ripped jeans and biker boots. Elijah was, of course, in a suit, as if he’d just gotten off work, albeit late.

“You sound like an alien, Elijah,” Klaus commented, in that accent of his. Ollie narrowed her eyes at him. He simply smirked at her. Elijah ignored him.

“I saw you,” the wolf girl cut in. Her voice hardened. “I saw you today.”

Klaus didn’t bother to lie in the slightest. “I think I’ll be coming back to that sushi place. Elijah, you must try it. They’ve got something called the “Viking roll.”” He elbowed his brother. They’d technically been vikings once. Elijah drew his brows together, had no idea what he was talking about and didn’t like the sound of it.

Liza looked at Ollie, confused, too. “What?” the former said. Ramsey shifted, anxious, and growled. Feeling the tension from the girls didn’t help the canine’s own nerves.

“I was at work, picking up lunch. I saw him there—at that sushi place I took you to once. He was there!” Ollie insisted. There was a flash of fear in Liza’s eyes at that. She took a step back. Elijah watched and started to get frustrated.

“Niklaus, where did you go?” he demanded.

The pairs remained on either side of the doorway to the apartment.

Klaus shrugged, not bothered by the tense atmosphere. “Oh, I just went on a little excursion…to the suburbs of this fine city. Needed to breathe better air…”

Elijah stared at him. “Why on earth?”

Klaus looked between him and the girls, speaking lightly. “Well, I thought I should know who we’re dealing with. Come to find, it’s only a pretty werewolf girl. Harmless, from the looks of it.”

Ollie’s jaw tightened, her expression darkened, and she gripped the edge of the door hard. “Most people make the mistake of thinking that,” she said, an almost low, gravely quality entering her already husky voice.

Klaus pointedly looked Ollie up and down, taking her in. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But I’ll have you know…” Ollie merely raised her chin as he checked her out, and her eyes turned yellow.

Elijah took his brother by the arm. “Niklaus,” he said sharply.

Klaus shrugged him off and took a step toward the threshold. “I’m one of you.” The younger brother inclined his chin, smiling wide, and his own gaze became the same as hers.

This took the girls by utter shock. Ollie should’ve known, but she hadn’t. She and Liza gaped at him. Although the latter lived with a wolf, the suddenty of this stranger being one as well didn’t make her relax. In fact, as Elijah looked at Liza in particular, he sensed that she felt terrified. She reflexively pulled Ramsey back, despite the dog pulling toward the two men, to no avail.

Klaus clasped his hands in front of him. “It’s all a really complicated story. But we’re half-brothers, Elijah and I.” He briefly glanced at him. “May we come in? For a friendly chat. I wouldn’t dream of hurting either of you, especially with that loyal friend you’ve got there.”

Elijah regarded his brother, who was completely full of it, and scoffed. But Elijah didn’t say anything. He just watched intently. Klaus was being his charming self. As long as he didn’t do the opposite of what he was promising, perhaps this wouldn’t go south. Klaus was looking at the dog, who was whining, and Liza had to use both hands now to pull Ramsey back. As Klaus approached, hand outstretched toward the Akita, restraining him was even harder.

Ollie took hold of the leash too, but Ramsey still got his way. He sniffed and snorted as Klaus neared him.

“What a handsome boy you are,” he said and squatted. “May I come into your humble abode?” He asked the dog this.

Elijah’s eyes widened. He’d never seen Klaus make nice with a dog, let alone to any animal really. His family never really cared for them. They never kept pets. They particularly didn’t drink from animals, either. So this was new. And bizarre is what it was. Elijah didn’t know much about wolves and nuances of their own relationships with animals, particularly canines. Did Klaus know what he was doing? Or had he just gambled this?

“Ramsey, come back,” Liza said through gritted teeth, not that it would stop the dog, who had stepped over the doorway. Ollie just watched, equally shocked.

“Ramses,” she scolded.

Klaus glanced up at them. “Ramses, is it? Like the Pharaoh? What a regal name!” he approved.

After thoroughly sniffing his hand, Ramsey nosed his snout under his palm. Klaus inched his hand even closer to lay it on the animal’s head. For a pat. He started to pet him.

“Good boy,” Klaus said. “What a good boy you are, protecting these girls. What a faithful companion you are. Aren’t you, Ramses?” Now the man used both hands—he started ruffling Ramsey’s head and the dog was liking it.

Liza stared, aghast—how dare this man touch her dog. “Ramsey!” she said again.

Elijah stepped up beside him and Ramsey looked up at the vampire and snarled. Klaus burst into chuckles.

“Oh, he hates you, Elijah. Who would’ve known that my noble brother isn’t liked by such a majestic beast.” Klaus stood, grinning, but hunched over to give Ramsey a little more love.

“May we please come in?” Elijah cut in at last. This was ridiculous.

Ollie looked at each of them, then glanced back at Liza. “It’s your call.”

“What?” Liza said, alarmed.

“Look, I can kick them out. I’ll call up my wolves right now and make sure they’re gone, but they’re here because of you, Liza, whether you want to believe it or not. We still don’t know why.”

Obviously, they had no idea who Klaus really was—a hybrid—let alone that they were more powerful than any regular sort of vampire, but this was left out, and Klaus didn’t correct Ollie. He just clasped his hands in front of him again and smiled charmingly.

“I don’t want to know why!” Liza answered Ollie. Her hands were white on the end of the leash. It didn’t matter that Ramsey had taken an unnatural liking to this Klaus guy. Give Ramsey a steak and a thief could steal whatever he wanted.

“Yes you do. I, for one, do. I want to know why the fuck are you involved with vampires,” Ollie said.

Liza was shaking her head, unable to tear her eyes off of the men. “I’m not fucking involved with vampires. I never was.”

Instead of answering her, Ollie took Ramsey’s leash out of her friend’s hands and stepped aside. “Shoes off,” she told the brothers sternly, her gaze flashing gold again. “And one wrong move. I swear.”

Klaus walked through the doorway without delay. He raised a hand. “Scout’s honor, love.” As he walked further, he swooped to give Ramsey a pat on his back.

“Shoes, Niklaus. We must respect their wishes,” Elijah said as he started to take off his own shiny leather shoes, using the toes of one foot to slip off the heel of the other, then vise versa.

“How very European,” Klaus said with appreciation. He had to use his hands to take off his boots.

Elijah was the one who made sure both of their pairs of shoes were neatly to the side of the door, which Ollie closed behind them. She let Ramsey off the leash. The dog made a wide berth around Elijah. Klaus, completely at ease, stepped ahead and looked around the apartment.

“What a charming home you have. Original crown molding, hard wood floors. Very cozy,” Klaus said. As Ramsey went up to him of his own volition, Klaus resumed petting him.

Liza kept the furthest away from them, arms crossed, and kept looking back at Ollie, who hung up the leash and stepped in direction of the living space. As Klaus unabashedly made his way through the large room, Elijah looked at Liza. Despite their conversation outside the day before, she seemed to be warier of him—no surprise. If Klaus wasn’t with him, it might’ve been different. So Elijah gave the girl a semblance of a smile. She, on the other hand, looked away.

“Did you talk to that psychic kid again?” Ollie asked before awkward silence could make itself comfortable.

Klaus helped himself to looking over what the girls had as decoration on the shelves of their walls—DVD collection, pictures in frames, books, and whatnot. Ollie watched him closely. He didn’t touch anything.

“I did not,” Elijah answered, also watching his brother. “But I can call him again.”

“Please don’t,” Liza said.

“Liza, maybe we should,” Ollie reasoned.

Liza didn’t bother hiding her exasperation. She regarded her friend across the combined living and dining space. “No. I don’t want to call him. I don’t need him to channel that spirit. I don’t care who it claims to be. I don’t want to hear anymore about this shit.”

Ollie glared. “Stop being a child,” she said.

Liza scoffed, offended, crossing her arms. “Olympia, don’t be a bitch to me right now.”

“Ladies,” Elijah cut in quickly. “I don’t have to call Benjamin. But the offer is there. There is no need to argue.”

Klaus had turned around, amused. The anxiety between the girls was almost palpable. “Do you think perhaps it would be possible to have a cup of tea?” he asked all of a sudden. “Nothing a cuppa can’t solve.” He spread his arms in a shrug, ever so innocent. “I heard you work at a tea shop, Elizabeth. You must have quite a collection here.”

“It’s Liza,” she corrected, and didn’t answer his request.

Elijah glanced at him, incredulous. “It’s all right. We don’t need tea,” he amended.

“No, it’s fine.” Ollie was already waving a hand and stepping toward the hallway. “I’m going to go put the water to boil.”

Liza paled all of a sudden at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Klaus went to take a seat at the barely used dining table. Ramsey trotted up to him. He started petting him. As Ollie retreated to the kitchen at the end of the hall, Liza just stared at her dog and the attention that he was getting. It was bewildering. Ramsey was supposed to be a good judge of character and yet Liza got an uneasy feeling from Klaus. Elijah appeared far more…trustworthy, even though she couldn’t say she trusted him at all.

Were looks deceiving? Or was Ramsey just appealing to the werewolf because he was a wolf? The same way Ollie had the effect of seeming more superior when she handled the dog—higher up on the pack order?

“So tell me a little about yourself, Liza,” Klaus said, looking back at the girl, unoffended by her previous lack of response to his desire for tea. Her brown gaze snapped to him. “You’re a witch, huh? And you seem to be a special one at that.”

“I’m not special,” she said flatly.

Klaus tilted his head, a furtive glint in his eye. “Well, you have to be if we’re involved.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, unsettled by that.

Elijah stepped toward the table but didn’t sit down. “Klaus thinks very highly of himself. Remember what I said yesterday, Liza? We’ll figure this out together.”

“Yes, together,” Klaus echoed cheerfully. He scratched Ramsey’s neck, under the collar, and the Akita just melted into his hands.

Elijah studied the girl, who was watching the interaction with an acute sense of betrayal. He could tell that she didn’t like what Klaus was doing. “Niklaus, perhaps you could…”

Klaus raised his eyebrows at him. “Perhaps I could what?”

Elijah exhaled a small breath, glancing back at Liza. “Why don’t you…let the animal go?”

“What?” Klaus looked at them both, blinking, then down at Ramsey. “I’m not hurting him.” The dog was loving his attention!

“Niklaus, just,” Elijah’s face strained, “just let him go.”

Klaus rolled his eyes and looked at him blankly. Then with a glance at Liza, he forced a smile and took his hands back from the dog. Ramsey, however, was taken completely aback—why did this man stop with his ministrations? The dog put his paws on Klaus’ lap and raised himself up.

“I’m sorry that I have such an effect on him,” Klaus said, but he wasn’t really sorry. “I love dogs, what can I say?”

Liza turned away to take a step and peek down the hall toward the kitchen. “It’s fine,” she said grudgingly. Elijah slowly shut his eyes and tilted his head down, shaking it. Klaus just grinned at him. Liza slipped out of sight.

In the kitchen, she approached Ollie, who was putting loose-leaf tea into a tea pot while the electric kettle boiled.

“Do you need help?” Liza asked her.

“No. Go back to the other room,” Ollie said without looking back at her. “Stay with them.”

Liza didn’t say anything right away. So that’s how it suddenly was between them? This tension? Was Ollie mad at her now? Did she not understand why it wasn’t so easy for her to just open up to a couple of strangers, let alone a vampire and his werewolf brother? About the subject of her magic, her dead grandmother—all which wasn’t any of their business? Normally, she would question Ollie, ask her what her problem was, but now wasn’t the time. Leaving Elijah and his brother probably wasn’t the best of ideas, either, though.

So all Liza said, at last, was, “Okay,” and went back down the hall.

Both brothers looked to her when she reappeared. Elijah was walking on eggshells. He looked like he felt bad. “I apologize for the inconveniences,” he said, earnestly.

“It’s fine,” Liza said, perhaps a little more sharply than she intended. She went to sit on the chaise part of the L-shaped Ikea sectional—it was closest to the dining table—and crossed her arms.

Elijah remained standing. Klaus ruffled Ramsey’s chest now, chuckling under his breath. The dog had his eyes closed and he looked like he was smiling from one end of his maw to the other. Liza tried not to look at them. Elijah looked back and forth between her and his brother. Awkward.

“How old is the lad?” Klaus was asking.

“What?” Liza asked.

“Ramses. How old is he?” Klaus clarified.

She found the question odd. Perhaps if Klaus was an animal-loving rando on the street that suddenly stopped to pet her dog, it would’ve been a legit question, but it caught her off guard. “Oh, uh,” she had to wrack her brain, having forgotten her dog’s age, which usually didn’t happen, “He’s, um, he’s turning six in December.”

“Oh, well, that would put you in…the mid-to-late thirties in human years, wouldn’t it?” Klaus asked Ramsey, who looked up at him with squinting triangle eyes. “Handsome boy. At his prime, you are. Yes, you are.”

Liza looked anywhere but at them. Elijah stepped toward her but kept enough of a distance so that she wouldn’t feel her space was invaded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling the need to say so.

Liza looked up at him, studied his expression. He held her gaze. She didn’t see an ounce of falseness within his. He really did appear sincere. She found herself believing in it before she could help herself. Looking away first, she shifted on the edge of the couch, drawing her attention down to her thighs, which she squeezed.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s whatever. I know dogs like werewolves. I’m not surprised.” She glanced at Klaus and Ramsey, who laid his head down on his lap. “He listens to Ollie better than me.”

Elijah didn’t know what to say to that. He simply frowned. Then they heard Ollie as she came from the kitchen.

“Liza was supposed to inherit her grandmother’s power,” she said in a tone that meant let’s get down to business.

“As in her coven’s power?” Klaus said, perking up. Ramsey sat back on his haunches by his legs.

Liza bristled but remained where she was. “It wasn’t a coven. It just consisted of my grandmother. But like I said, I haven’t inherited anything.”

“Well, maybe you’re just not tapping into it,” Ollie said, putting her hands on her hips. Liza just looked at her. Ollie threw up one hand, gesturing with it. “You never even tried. I never saw you actually try.”

“That’s not the way it works, Ollie,” Liza said coldly.

“How does it work, pray tell?” Klaus inquired, leaning his elbows on the table. Even though he stopped with his ministrations, Ramsey kept his head on his lap.

Liza stood, antsy. She stepped away from them as she answered, held her hands up. “You feel it. I don’t know. It’s hard to describe, but I never felt it. It’s not here. It’s not in me. Okay? If it was, I’d prove it to you.”

“Then we have to find a way for you to get it,” Klaus said. He gave Ollie a glance and a smile, but she just looked at him with those expressive dark eyebrows narrowed.

Liza spun around, crossing her arms again. “Why?” she asked, looking from him to Elijah. “What does it have to do with you and your family? Why am I supposed to use the power on you? Do you want wolfsbane?” This she directed to Klaus. “‘Cause that’s all I can give you.”

“This is something that Benjamin wasn’t able to elaborate on,” Elijah said regretfully. Of course, he left out the mention of his family’s “salvation.” They had been who they were for a thousand years. Nothing had ever changed.

Klaus looked at the table and idly ran finger along the wood. “Well, then he’s useless, isn’t he? Say, Liza, why don’t you contact your grandmother yourself? Ask her directly. Why go through some TV star brat who probably wants money out of us anyway?”

“No. I’m not going to contact anyone,” Liza said flatly. “I don’t do that. I don’t contact the-the dead.”

“Well, why not?” Klaus asked.

Liza’s voice hardened. “Jesus. Because I don’t.”

“Liza, why can’t you just try?” Ollie questioned. She was annoyed, like she was dealing with a stubborn child, who her roommate. Liza didn’t like the tone she was using. “You’re acting like one of the kids I work with.”

It was also embarrassing—being told this. Liza’s face turned red and she looked away, scoffing, trying to find words to say. She was hurt that Ollie would talk to her like this in front of two complete strangers.

“You got a fucking Ouija Board lying around?” Liza said, but without the fervor that she felt a moment ago.

Ollie cocked her head, as if to say, really? “Don’t be a smart ass, Liza.”

Elijah almost felt himself defensive on behalf of the witch, and he took half a step toward her. Her wolf friend really was using an unpleasant tone with her. “We will find another witch to help us,” he said evenly. “Liza, how do you feel about that? If we find a witch—whom you approve of, of course. Unless you know one you trust.”

Liza didn’t look at him or the other two. She blinked a few times. Emotion made her eyes glaze over. “I don’t know anyone,” she said quietly. “I don’t have witch friends.”

Elijah frowned as he said, “All right.”

Klaus studied him for a moment, curious, but then he looked at Ollie, who looked like she’d cooled off a bit. “How about that tea?”

“Sure.” As she was turning around, he stood up.

“I will help you. Do you have Earl Gray, perchance?” he asked, following her.

“We have five different kinds,” Elijah and Liza heard Ollie say to Klaus.

Left alone with Elijah, the witch walked over to her dog, who passed right by her. The girl watched him disappear toward the kitchen, her face blank. “Really?” she said to herself. Yanking back one of the other chairs around the table—it made a squeak against the floor—she fell into it.

After a moment, Elijah also sat down—in the chair beside the one that his brother had occupied. Liza avoided his gaze. She looked anywhere but at him. She fixed her attention across the room at a small crack in the wall that she could see. It was in between the carved frame of the fireplace and the painted plaster. Elijah didn’t watch her. He too looked elsewhere.

She thought of the dream all of a sudden, having forgotten about it until now. She recognized Niklaus, the way he’d smirked at her before she had drowned him. It was the exact smirk that he’d worn while showering her dog with affection. This was most unsettling—apart from tenderness with which Elijah had gazed upon her after the sun had risen. At least there was none of that on his face now. Liza stole the quickest of looks at him. He noticed and she quickly looked back at the fireplace.

“I understand why you want no part of this. Trust me when I say that I do not want to burden you with this. The last thing Niklaus and I need is to involve a witch with our family matters. They’re no one’s business but ours,” he told her, his tone of voice steady. He clasped his hands in front of him on the table and looked down while speaking. “When we find someone to help us contact your grandmother’s spirit again,” Liza visibly shuddered as he mentioned her, lowered her own eyes. He paused sympathetically. Then he went on, softer: “We will get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

“If it isn’t my grandmother, spirits can lie, you know, then you and your brother go away and never come near us again,” Liza said coldly. She looked at him square in the eye, clenching her jaw. Elijah met her eyes solemnly. She tried to steel her emotions—all of them—so that the previous vulnerability was hidden.

He nodded his head. Her gaze flicked to his birthmark on his cheek, then down to his squared jaw, all within the span of a second. She remembered how close he’d been to her, in the dream, their faces inches away from each other, close enough for her to take in every detail of his features. She failed to stop the remembrance before it had returned. Damn it.

Elijah’s expression shifted the slightest as he regarded her, and his eyebrows began to rise. He’d heard her heart skip a beat and quicken its rhythm. Liza blinked. She was made. He sensed something was off—even if he couldn’t find an answer as to why. She cleared her throat and quickly looked away once more.

“I, um—”

“You have my word,” he said. “We will never darken your doorstep again.”

Liza examined her nails as if they were the most interesting thing right then and there. “Good,” was her curt reply.

#vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the originals fanfiction #the originals #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #marcel gerard #rebekah mikaelson #original character #elijah mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson x oc #fanfiction #originals fanfiction #originals #vampires #elijah mikaelson fanfic #klaus mikaelson fanfiction

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truckstophottie · 8 years

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I was tagged by @kmidnightt Thank you love!

1. Are you named after someone? Not a person just a star

2. When was the last time you cried? Fuckk like a couple months ago maybe?? A year idk

3. Do you like your handwriting? It’s alright I guess

4. What is your favorite lunch meat? This is such a weird question lmaoo idk

5. Do you have kids? Yikes no

6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? Christ no way

7. Do you use sarcasm? All day everyday

8. Do you still have your tonsils? Yes

9. Would you bungee jump? Sure

10. What is your favorite kind of cereal? Well it was Life but now there’s chocolate Lucky Charms and that changes the whole game

11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? I don’t even tie my shoes when I put them on tf

12. Do you think you’re a strong person? I guess

13. What is your favorite ice cream? Ben and Jerry’s The Tonight Dough and Pirate’s Bounty baby baby

14. What is the first thing you notice about people? Usually hair I think

15. What is the least favorite physical thing you like about yourself? All of it???

16. What color pants and shoes are you wearing now? No shoes grey sweat pants

17. What are you listening to right now? Alive by Pearl Jam

18. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Fuck idk probably like… grey

19. Favorite smell? Not sure

20. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? I avoid speaking on the phone at any cost

21. Favorite sport to watch? I don’t really like any sport but I don’t mind hockey

22. Hair color? Dark brown/ black

23. Eye color? Greyish blue

24. Do you wear contacts? Contacts for daysss

25. Favorite food to eat? Any kind of noodle out there

26. Scary movies or comedy? Scary all the way

27. Last movie you watched? Boogie Nights

28. What color of shirt are you wearing? A blue Ziggy Stardust world tour shirt

29. Summer or winter? Both

30. Hugs or kisses? Ehh depends on the person??

31. What book are you currently reading? I read like four books at a time so currently The Shining, The Picture Of Dorian Gray, and The Illiad all for like the 12th time

32. Who do you miss right now? Nobody man I’m good

33. What is on your mouse pad? I do still have a desktop in my house and it’s from a jewelry store and it’s got Mona Lisa wearing a pearl necklace on it

34. What is the last TV program you watched? I’m making my way through The Office again

35. What is the best sound? Music

36. Rolling Stones or The Beatles? Rolling Stones

37. What is the furthest you have ever traveled? Bruhh I’ve only been out of Minnesota like twice in my life once to Colorado and the other to Idaho but I don’t really remember that

38. Do you have a special talent? I know every word from every scene of Forrest Gump

39. Where were you born? Minnesota

I tag: @theonlyturtleinexistence @incognita-soul @unapologeticbisexual @bisexual-prongs

#you don't have to do it if you don't wanna #but I'm tagging you anyway #not hp #my post #tagged

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mynatural-lifestyle · 7 years

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Bleach 'n Curls

Does bleaching your hair actually mean you'll be damaging it? Here are my thoughts.

Bleach and hair are like a child and the boogie man. Everyone has this idea that: Bleach = Damage … … Does it really? My Experience It has been a little over a week since I dyed my hair from black to chocolate-brown. Since my hair was so dark, it had to be bleached in order for the color to take. I tried so hard to avoid bleaching it, but I just ended up going through with it because I felt…

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#Colored Curls #curls #Deep Moisture #Hair Bleach #Natural Hair

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gethealthy18-blog · 6 years

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2018 Ultimate Holiday Gift Giving Guide (For Everyone on Your List!)

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/2018-ultimate-holiday-gift-giving-guide-for-everyone-on-your-list/

2018 Ultimate Holiday Gift Giving Guide (For Everyone on Your List!)

I don’t know about you, but this time of year can be a little hectic for me! With Thanksgiving, Christmas, and several family birthdays, there is a lot to plan and a lot of gifts to wrap. We try to stick to experiences instead of stuff as much as possible (here are some of my best ideas), especially with our own kids, but also usually give one physical gift per family member.

Also, for extended family and close friends that we don’t live close enough to share experiences with, we send small gifts as well. I know it seems early, but I try to get my shopping done now so that I can savor and enjoy the holidays while knowing gifts are already wrapped!

This holiday gift guide is a compilation of the best gifts we’ve ever received and the ones that are favorites to give.��As much as possible, all these gifts are eco-friendly and limit plastic whenever possible. They are also natural, organic, and health-promoting.

My Natural + Eco-Friendly Gift Giving Guide!

I’ve included my favorite gifts for every member of the family, age group, and interest level, so keep scrolling if you need ideas for a specific family member. They go in rough age order (adults down to babies) and then special interest gift ideas are below that (for the chef, the grandparents, white elephant gifts, etc).

Important: Please note that many of the links in this guide are affiliate links. This means that if you purchase through these links, the price will be the same for you and I’ll receive a small commission that helps support my blog and my family. Many thanks!

Gifts for Mom (That She Won’t Just Pretend She Loves)

As a kid, we always got my mom new kitchen gear and equipment as gifts. I remember feeling a little guilty because my brother and I got toys and fun gifts, and I always thought she got the short end of the stick just getting kitchen items that she used for us. Then, I became a mom myself and developed a love for cooking, and now I get just as excited about new kitchen essentials. This list includes some of the best practical gifts for moms, as well as some pampering and relaxing ones!

Amazon Prime Membership – Get free 2-day shipping on many items, plus free streaming music and movies.

or Real Plans Membership – My biggest time saver – this plans all of my meals and shopping lists and can handle allergies, bulk prep day and more!

Shiatsu Massage Pillow – Seriously rivals an actual massage for half the price!

Hydroflask Water Bottle – The water bottle I use that keeps water cool (or hot) for days!

Complete Facial Kit – Amazing facial oil with the highest quality ingredients and no junk!

RTIC Tumbler – Great for hot or cold drinks.

Wake-up Light Gentle Alarm Clock – Wake up gently to gradual light and sound

Himalayan Salt Lamp – Soothing warm orange glow at night from these beautiful lamps.

Blue Blocker Glasses – I wear these after dark for better sleep (some studies show that avoiding blue light after dark helps melatonin levels).

Sleep Master Sleep Mask – Great for travel – a sleep mask that is actually comfortable!

10,000 Lux Happy Light – Feel blue in the winter? I use this super-bright light to keep my cortisol levels healthy.

Anything Le Creuset – Incredible (but pricey) dishes. I’ve been collecting a few pieces over the years and resisting the urge to buy it all!

Microwaveable Slippers – Does someone you love always get cold? These slippers have microwaveable pads that stay warm.

Dry Brush – Brushing isn’t just for hair and teeth. Brushing skin can help it stay smooth, supple, and may improve collagen.

Low EMF Hair Dryer – Did you know that hairdryers produce a lot of EMFs?

French Press Coffee Maker – Make wonderful coffee with this classic method.

Instant Pot – Revolutionize dinner! This electric pressure cooker makes roasts in about an hour and turns tough cuts of meat into deliciously tender meals.

Grown-up Coloring Book and Markers – Coloring isn’t for kids anymore and studies show it may reduce stress levels. Try a “grown-up coloring book.”

Kokomo Cream Organic Deodorant – This natural deodorant smells like the tropics and lasts for months.

A good book – Just off the top of my head… maybe The Wellness Mama 5-Step Lifestyle Detox or The Wellness Mama Cookbook? 🙂 Ok, I’m biased, but it’s a great way to have all of the best recipes and health hacks on the site at your fingertips.

Blackout Curtains – Even a little light can interfere with sleep quality. We use blackout curtains to keep our room really dark.

Wine Bottle Tiki Torch – Upcycle old wine bottles with these adorable tiki-torch kits.

Gifts for Dad (No Ties or PJs on This List)

I’ve always had the most difficult time finding good gifts for the men in my life, especially my husband. He has incredibly high standards for products and prefers really high-quality items that last forever. These have been some of his favorite gifts in recent years and they might be perfect for the guys on your list too. (Also, check the lists below for more specific ideas for dads who travel a lot or who love the outdoors!)

Magnetic Wrist Band – Holds nails and screws for the handyman!

Fire Starter Kit – Useful tool to start fires without matches or a lighter.

Blue Blocking Glasses -These glasses help reduce eye fatigue from computers and reduce blue light for better sleep.

Lifestraw or Sawyer Water Filter – Survival water filter that fits in your pocket.

Comfy Slippers – My husband loves these slippers he got a couple of years ago.

Heat Proof BBQ Gloves – For the man who likes to grill, these gloves will protect his hands.

Smart Wool Socks – Warm but not sweaty and they keep feet dry. Great for hiking or everyday use.

Surefire Flashlight – High quality and super bright pocket flashlight.

Wine Aerator – Pour wine through this to improve flavor.

30-day Lantern for Camping – A really long lasting lantern for the outdoorsman who loves to camp.

Esse 3 Knife – Really high-quality multi-use knife.

Saddleback Leather Wallet – This wallet has a 100-year warranty!! (yes, really!)

Quality Shaving Kit OR Beard Oil– Great options for the clean-shaven or bearded man in your life!

RTIC Insulated Tumbler – This insulated large mug keeps things cold for up to 24 hours and hot for up to 12.

Hydroflask Insulated Water Bottle – Insulated water bottle that keeps water cold for days.

Backjoy Seat – Does your guy sit a lot? This may help improve posture and alleviate tension in the back.

Defender Phone Case or Tablet Case – Protect him from EMFs when using electronics.

Tactical Pen – More than just a pen, it works in all conditions and can break a car window if a person is trapped.

ENO Hammock – Portable hammock that fits in a small bag and is great for travel and camping.

Tactical Backpack – For the outdoorsman, this bag holds everything he could need.

Tool Pen – Available in hex and mini-tools for easy use.

Whiskey Stones – Freeze these rocks to use in place of ice in drinks “on the rocks.”

Gifts for Older Kids & Teens

My older kids have gotten harder to shop for, but these gifts all got their seal of approval!

Buddha Board – A relaxing way to paint with just water (it evaporates and you can paint again).

Leather Journal – A beautiful leather journal for sketching or journaling.

Japanese Puzzle Box – These beautiful puzzle boxes are a unique way for older kids to keep valuable items safe and fun to learn.

Rubix Cube (or Giant Rubix Cube) – The 1980s called, but we told it we are keeping the Rubix Cube. Older kids love learning to solve this.

Star Wars Legos – Popular among big kids and teens with dozens to choose from.

Build Your Own Programmable Robot Kit – A favorite with my oldest. Build a robot and program it!

Grown-Up Coloring Books – Coloring isn’t just for little kids anymore. These “adult coloring books” are very detailed and studies show that coloring is relaxing.

Boogie Board – Reusable board that encourages doodling and drawing.

Kindle Fire – An affordable tablet with a lot of capabilities.

Runaway Alarm Clock – Does your teen have trouble waking up? This alarm clock runs away and keeps making noise until caught!

Natural Makeup Brushes – If your teen is old enough to wear makeup, these natural brushes are great!

Power Cube Wall Adapter – Surge protector and charges multiple devices at once.

Collapsible Duffel Bag – Great bag for short trips that collapses to a tiny size.

Minnetonka Chrissy Boots (for teenage girls) – Super comfy boots!

Cash inside a Money Maze Puzzle Box – Give money so they can get what they like, but make it fun by hiding it inside this puzzle cube.

No Crease Ponytail Holders – These are really popular right now. They are gentle on hair and don’t leave a crease!

Travel Hammock – Have an outdoorsy teen? These travel hammocks collapse small and are awesome.

Pocket Strings Guitar – A fun way to learn guitar! Fits easily in a backpack.

Gift Ideas for Younger Kids

There are certainly the most options to choose from when looking for gifts for children, but I’ve found that many are lower-quality plastic items that break easily and release harmful endocrine disrupting chemicals into the home or that only facilitate one activity. These are a few of the gifts I’ve found in recent years that have survived the durability test of our house and that the children have enjoyed the most:

Gym 1 Indoor Doorway Gym – Our kids’ favorite Christmas gift of all time. It is a gym that mounts in a door frame and they use it every day.

Snap Circuits – Really neat kit that lets kids learn about electricity by building different types of basic machines like a fan, a radio, etc.

Art Kit – A favorite among our girls. This kit contains markers, paints, colored pencils, and more.

Seedling Wooden People kit – Kids can create mini wooden people.

Mini Trampoline for Indoor Play – We’ve had a trampoline in our house for years and it is great for cold or rainy days. Rebounding (bouncing) is also great for adults!

Wooden Twig Colored Pencils – Wooden colored pencils made from twigs. Good size for younger kids just learning to write and draw.

Wooden People and Craft Supplies – Our kids loved making their own little wooden dolls with these.

Plasma Car – Our little kids love these and they are great for kids of all sizes.

Natural Paints – Made from natural earth pigments.

Design Your Own Superhero Cape – A fun activity that encourages creativity and is great for imaginative play.

Microscope Kit – My oldest loved looking at hair, dirt, and all kind of other things in this microscope.

Crayon Rocks – Portable and fun for littles who still have trouble with regular crayons.

Or Beeswax Crayons – Triangular crayons made of natural beeswax.

Doll House – Fits Barbie size dolls and other smaller dolls.

Stainless Steel Play Kitchen Pots and Pans – My daughters play kitchen with these for hours!

Beginner Piano Keyboard (and free Hoffman Academy Lessons) – These are a great way to get the kids started with music.

Boogie Board – A reusable writing tablet that encourages creativity.

Sun Art – Fun educational craft idea that kids love.

Kendama Game – Fun interactive game that encourages movement.

Gifts for Babies (and Expecting Parents)

There are literally thousands of options for gifts for babies, but many of them contain endocrine disrupting plastics or will just never get used. With over a decade of parenting and six kids, these are the gifts, toys, and gear that made the cut for us.

Pregnancy Affirmation Cards – I love these sweet cards that encourage pregnant moms!

Organic Mattress Cover – Protect baby from mold and allergens in mattresses.

Organic Cotton Crib Sheet – Soft organic sheet for crib.

Organic Muslin Swaddling Blankets – My favorite blankets that are perfect for swaddling or nursing.

Snot Sucker – Not as gross as it sounds and a lifesaver if baby is sick!

Baby Bouncer – This bouncer actually bounces! Rock with a foot to keep baby asleep.

Food Grade Silicone Fruit Teethers – A favorite with my 9-month-old!

Hape Wooden Toys – I love these high-quality wooden toys!

Ergo Organic Baby Carrier – A great organic baby carrier that is comfortable for mom or dad too!

Sophie the Giraffe – This teething toy has a passionate following with the under-one-year crowd!

Fleece Newborn Booties – Babies always manage to lose socks, but these stay on and keep toes warm!

Manhattan Toys Rattle and Clutching Toy – Little ones love this engaging wooden toy.

Natural Rubber Orthodontic Pacifier – For babies who will take a pacifier, try this natural rubber option.

Baltic Amber Teething Necklace – May help soothe teething pain.

Manhattan Toys Circle Toy – A beautiful and fun toy that baby love to play with.

Natural Rubber Teething Toy – The only toy my baby prefers to my finger when teething gets bad.

Organic Cotton Teether – An organic cotton and wood teething toy option.

Shea Moisture Baby Wash and Lotion – Fabulous smelling baby wash and lotion without the junk!

Animalz Wooden Animal Toys – Adorable and durable wooden animal toys.

Gifts for the Chef or Foodie

Does someone in your life love to cook (or eat)? These gifts make spending time in the kitchen so much fun!

Stainless Steel Coffee Percolator – No plastic, no junk, just awesome coffee that stays warm for hours in this all-stainless percolator.

Blendtec or Vitamix – both are amazing blenders that will last for years!

Stainless Steel Immersion Blender – Great for sauces, smoothies, blending things in a pot or pan and so much more.

Yogurt Maker – Homemade yogurt tastes so much better than store bought and is simple to make.

Ice Cream Maker – Make any kind of ice cream: dairy-free, sugar-free, etc.

Lead-free Crock Pot – A great slow cooker with a lead-free crock.

Instant Pot – This electric pressure cooker has almost replaced our slow cooker and I use it at least three times a week.

Crinkle Cutter – So the kids can help cut food for meals.

Stainless Steel Bowls – Great for mixing, serving, and storage.

Spiral Slicer – Make vegetables into noodles with this spiral slicer.

Stainless Steel Straws – Replace disposable straws forever with these steel straws.

Huck Towels – Similar to the towels they use in emergency rooms… these towels are super absorbent, great for cleaning and easy to wash.

Mason Jars + Cuppow Lids + Sprouting Lids – Use mason jars for cups and the opportunities are endless.

Kombucha Brewing Supplies – Do you drink kombucha? If so, do you make your own? It is so much better and the flavors are endless.

Dehydrator – Preserve foods with a stainless steel dehydrator.

Xtrema Cookware – Scratch-proof ceramic pans.

Bamboo Utensils – These inexpensive bamboo utensils are great for cooking.

Stainless Steel Large Baking Dish – These have been a lifesaver when cooking for large get-togethers with family and friends.

Glass Electric Tea Kettle – Make tea in seconds with this glass electric tea kettle.

Salt Block for Cooking – I love cooking fish, meat and even baked goods on a salt block for amazing flavor.

Premium Milk Frother – If you want to spring for an unusual (and more pricey) gift, this milk frother makes coffee shop worthy froth for coffee.

Organic Spice Set – These super high-quality organic spices (from my favorite olive oil makers) are beautifully packaged and come in ready-made blends like Smoky, Tex-Mex, Savory, Taco, Bagel, and more to make flavorful cooking easy.

Gift Ideas for the Grandparents

Our parents both live nearby and are involved in our kids’ lives. I always struggle with what to get them that somehow says “thanks for everything you did for me all of those years and thanks for being just as awesome with my kids.” We usually give them something handmade from the grandkids, but these are some other ideas that have been a hit. (Some of these are also ideas for this year, so Mom, if you’re reading this … don’t read past here. 😉 )

Amazon Prime Membership – What my parents are getting this year (don’t tell them!). This gives them free 2-day shipping on many items and free streaming of many movie and music.

Photo Frame – This photo frame was a hit a few years ago with our parents. No fancy motion detectors, wi-fi, bluetooth or anything else that can stop working.

Kindle Fire – My brother got my mom a Kindle a couple of years ago and she uses it quite a bit.

Terracotta Plant Waterer – Perhaps not the most fancy of gifts, but very practical for anyone with house plants (I just ordered some). It upcycles a glass bottle to water a plant for weeks.

Wine Subscription – If your parents are wine-drinkers, they will love this wine subscription box of organic biodynamic wines.

Royally Flawless Face Oil – Ditch all the overpriced anti-aging creams out there. This oil uses high-quality ingredients for real results.

Shiatsu Massage Pillow – I got this for my mom last Christmas and she uses it all the time.

Glass Electric Tea Kettle – For tea-drinkers, this electric glass tea kettle makes tea available almost on demand.

Instant Pot – The grandparents love it for all the reasons we love it- faster and more nutritious meals!

The Grandparent Book Journal – A sweet way to encourage kids and grandparents to spend time together and a beautiful keepsake of family history.

Or anything on the lists above that they will love!

“Just in Case” Gifts

These inexpensive gifts are great to have on hand for when someone drops by with a gift or to take to party hosts. I keep several of these wrapped to give when someone brings a gift by unexpectedly:

Electric Wine Bottle Opener – A fun way to open up a bottle of wine.

RTIC Tumbler – Great for keeping drinks hot or cold while on the go.

Bottle of Wine – We have a subscription to these delicious biodynamic wines, so I always have an extra bottle on hand.

Grocery Bag Carrying Handles – They make carrying all those bags of groceries a lot easier!

Bag of Organic Coffee – Who doesn’t love coffee, especially when it’s organic and fair trade?

Hario Mizudashi Cold Brew Iced Coffee Pot/Maker – I’m a big fan of cold brew coffee and this is a great way to make it.

Car Diffuser – Keep the car smelling great all year long!

Mason Jar Solar Light – Add some beautiful ambiance to any room with these solar lights.

Mason Jar with Drinking Lid – Ditch the plastic and drink out of old-school mason jars!

Funny Gifts for Dirty Santa and Gift Exchanges

These are some of my favorite funny gift ideas for dirty santa or white elephant gift exchanges. Sure to get lots of laughs!

Toilet Light – For those night time bathroom trips.

Nap Sack Prank Box – Take a nap anywhere with this hood.

Prank Pack Crib Dribbler – A fun prank for baby someone with a baby.

iDrive Prank Pack – This is just hilarious!

“You Parked Like An Idiot” Cards – I think my husband would actually use these!

Slipper Genie Mopping Slipper – This might actually get my kids to help sweep the floor more often.

The Obsessive Chef Cutting Board – For the OCD chef.

Pooping Pooch Calendar – Yep, it’s exactly what you picture… perfect (or awful?!) for the dog lover in your family!

Banana Slicer – If you’re going to eat bananas, why not slice it correctly?

Cards Against Humanity – These are incredibly irreverent, but will have you on the floor laughing for hours.

Maybe Swearing Will Help Coloring Book and Markers – For the potty mouth (or clean mouth?) in your life 🙂

Family Gifts & Outdoor Fun Gifts

If you’re like us and often choose family gifts that the whole family can enjoy (or enjoy better health because of), you might love these options. This list also includes outdoor activity gifts that we use and love.

Sauna – This is one gift that will have long-lasting health benefits. It isn’t an inexpensive gift, but one that family can enjoy all year.

Joovv Light – Like the sauna, this gift also brings the benefit of boosting health. Red light therapy is well-studied for its skin and mitochondria benefits and this is one of my favorite parts of my daily routine.

Rapid Release – Like a chiropractor and a massage therapist built into one. This device is designed to release muscle tension and it works! I love this thing.

Myobuddy – A percussive heated massager that targets muscle and fascia. A lot of people use this for cellulite, I just use it for relaxation and fascia massage.

Wholetones Music Subscription – Uses soothing music with targeted sound frequencies to induce health benefits like stress reduction, focus, sleep… and yes, it works even for kids! I love this one too because it isn’t a physical item to store around the house.

Organic & Natural Mattresses – This was our gift to each other one year and we love our mattress. We have an Intellibed and love it, but My Green Mattress is also a great option and not as pricey.

Natural Cookware – I got some of this cookware for Christmas years ago and have been using it since then!

Matching Organic Jammies – Switching to organic PJs is one way to reduce chemical exposure from clothing by half and these organic jammies are our favorites.

A Year of Wine – I love wine, but most wine is contaminated with chemicals and additives. Hubby and I give each other natural wine from Dry Farm Wines.

Trampoline – Not just for kids when you consider the lymphatic benefits of jumping!

Swing – Our kids love this backyard swing and they can all fit on it!

Slackline – Like a balance beam and trampoline in one. It encourages balance and coordinating and is hours of fun.

Ninjaline – Like monkey bars but tougher. A lot of people use these for Ninja Warrior training, but our kids just think it is fun!

Natural Beauty & Home Gifts (Ones to Buy or DIY)

Home & Beauty to DIY

I love receiving homemade gifts and making them for others. I have hundreds of DIY recipes and tutorials on the blog, but the ones on this list make the best gifts. These are especially perfect for stocking stuffers!

Home & Beauty to Buy

If you aren’t into the DIY options, here are some great store-bought alternatives:

Lotion Bars – If you’d like lotion bars similar to my recipes, but that you don’t have to make yourself, check out Made On, a small, family-owned company that makes all kinds of lotion bars, soaps, natural baby products, and hair products that are up to my standards. If you use the code WELLNESSMAMA, you’ll get a 15% discount on your order!

Alitura Skincare – Alitura uses organic botanicals and superfood ingredients to nourish the skin. This is serious skincare with the works: clay masks, intensive moisturizers, derma rollers, and more. Use the code WELLNESS for 20% off!

Toups Organics (Makeup & Beauty) – Heather of Mommypotamus introduced me to this line and they have an incredible line of clean cosmetics, lotions, and even a baking-soda free deodorant for sensitive types.

Crunchy Betty Facial Serum & Natural Deodorant: Mentioned before, but I can’t say enough about them.

Branch Basics Cleaners – I know I’d be happy to find some all-natural cleaning products (I don’t have to make) under the Christmas tree.

Vibrant Blue Oils – Wildcrafted and organic essential oil blends made to support specific health conditions. Use the code WELLNESSMAMA10 to get 10% off through December 31st.

Magnesium Oil – Spray on for relaxation, detox support, even deodorant!

Homebiotic Spray – Like a probiotic for your home, this freshens air by targeting the source of bad smells… bacteria and mold.

Genexa OTC Medicines – So much of what goes in children’s medicine is just flavors, dyes, preservatives, and fillers. Genexa is the first to come up with a line of over the counter and homeopathic medications completely free of all unnecessary additives. I give these to my kids for colds, coughs, fevers, or even just a bad night of sleep, and they’ve worked great for us.

Kid-Safe Essential Oil Roll-Ons – For sleep, headaches, cold relief, and more, without having to worry about negative side effects.

There’s probably a lot more that could be added to this list, but these are my current favorites. If you still haven’t found the perfect gift on this list, Heather shares all of her favorite natural gifts here.

What is on your Christmas list this year? What are you getting for friends and family?

Source: https://wellnessmama.com/25195/gift-giving-guide/

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