#chirs chambers

[constant-mason24]

The Fall of Raccoon City- Chapter Three (Leon Kennedy x Reader AU)

Leon sees some action on the job, but (Y/n) keeps getting the runaround.

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♦♣♥♠

(Y/n) felt so guilty over the fact that she could not remember this man’s name for the life of her. It was… something Payne… was that right? Wilson? She felt like it was Wilson…

Either way, the man was about the same height as her, which is to say, rather small. His thinning hair was beginning to grow the same shade of gray as his suit, and his mannerisms made him seem almost pathetic in nature. Still, the man was a well-off lawyer, and he probably hadn’t been shot in the last few months. As far as (Y/n) was concerned, he had one up on her for sure. 

The sub sandwich shop they had agreed to meet in was quiet and out of the way, making it perfect for a nice casual lunch talking about the court trial of the man who attempted to murder her to cover up his other crimes. Totally professional. 

“Thanks for meeting with me, Miss (L/n).” Payne’s voice was whiny and obnoxious, and (Y/n) wondered if he sounded like this in court. “I was hoping we could iron out these last details on your appearance at the trial.”

“Oh, well, actually,” (Y/n) has no idea how to broach this subject. At all. “I’m afraid I can’t make it to the trial.”

“What?!” The man nearly began sweating on the spot. “You’re one of our key witnesses. You took a bullet from him!”

“I know, and I’m genuinely so sorry,” She winced. “But I’m afraid I’m being called away for work.”

“You’re one of the officers on that elite force, right?” the lawyer sounded even more defeated and pathetic now. 

“Yes, the S.T.A.R.S. team.” She handed over the envelope Wesker had given her. “My captain said these should cover everything for you. Of course, if there’s anything I can do to help now, I would love to.”

Payne placed the envelope to the side, looking worse for wear. “I appreciate the offer, Miss (L/n), but if you won’t be able to attend in person, then there isn’t much I need from you that I don’t already have.”

(Y/n) nodded solemnly, feeling terrible about not being able to help him.

“I assume this goes for Mr. Redfield as well?” The man all but sighs.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. “I wasn’t told anything about his involvement in the trial.” 

‘He doesn’t seem to care much either,’ she thought to herself. ‘He only ever cares about the action. Never a desk jockey.’

“I’ll try to contact him.” The man mutters to himself. “I suppose that’s all I can ask of you for now, then.”

“Wait.”  (Y/n) stopped the man before he stood to leave. “I usually work on the apprehension side of the law, rather than the punishment side. I was under the impression that a court of law takes precedence over everything else. Like with jury duty and whatnot. How is possible that I was just… excused? Especially considering I’m not just any witness, but a victim!”

“It’s… difficult to explain.” The man reached out and took a napkin from the table, dabbing at his forehead as gracefully as he could when sweating bullets. He almost seemed more frantic now. “But I assure you, this is a perfectly acceptable outcome, even though it is a bit disheartening.”

(Y/n) leaned back in her seat, thoroughly disheartened by the man’s explanation of her upcoming absence- or more accurately the lack thereof. What ‘strings’ had Wesker pulled to have the key witnesses of this trial removed from the courtroom, police work or not? Something felt off about this, and about the man’s reaction to it as well. But there was nothing she could do.

“Alright. Thank you, though. Sorry to disappoint you.” 

“No need to apologize.” Payne stood now uninterrupted. “I’m sure everything will turn out right anyway.”

The man bid her farewell and left her alone at the table, looking out the window at passing traffic as she thought. 

♦♣♥♠

It was transitioning from late afternoon to evening time as Leon Kennedy and Riley Stevenson returned to the RPD. It had been a busy afternoon, and Leon now had his first full load of paperwork to do. Yay, him. 

“I feel bad for ya, rookie.” Stevenson looks over at the younger man.

“Why’s that?” He asked, stepping through the ornate front gates of the station.

“It’s your second day in the force and we’ve already put you through all this bullshit.” He huffed. “You deserve to settle in a little before facing this stuff head-on.”

“I survived the academy,” He joked. “Probably better to dive in headfirst now, anyway.”

“Maybe.” the older officer conceded as they entered the main hall. “Still, that was a lot.”

Leon just shrugged, not knowing what else to say. In truth, it was a lot, and he still felt shaken from the whole ordeal, but this was the job he signed up for. The way Leon saw it, it was better to get straight to the dirty, scary, unfun parts of the job rather than let himself settle into an unrealistic little fantasy of what the job would be. 

He turned his attention away from the cop to his right, instead looking at the people bustling throughout the whole police station. He could see a couple of officers having a conversation above him and to the left, standing around on the second-floor balcony. He wondered if they were discussing work until one of them laughed, causing him to smile softly. Everyone here seemed so friendly with each other.

He looked over to a woman scolding a young teen boy who had clearly just been reprimanded by an officer as well, probably for something dumb and rebellious, like vandalism. A man was being walked down the hall in cuffs, and judging by the interactions between him and the other policemen, it wasn’t his first time here. Countless people were filling out paperwork, having conversations, and just generally moving about the large station hall. It almost looked like a living painting, all these people going about their lives on the grand and elegant backdrop the RPD provided. It was certainly the fanciest-looking police station he’d ever seen, and in this moment that really shone through. 

He stops his dillydallying and follows his partner into the west office, seeing more officers moving about there. A few sat at their desks: Phillips and Ford among them. A couple more officers stood near the wall talking, and it looked like (Y/n) (L/n) was amongst them. She turned in his direction as he walked in and grinned at him. She walked away from the other cops, moving to lean against his desk as he met her in the middle. 

“And here comes my rookie. First day out in the field and he’s already playing hero.” She shook her head at him and he laughed. 

“I don’t know what else you all expect from me. I did agree to this when I signed up.”

“Did someone else give you crap over this too?”

“No, Stevenson just seemed apprehensive about letting me tag along.”

“We just don’t want you to jump in too fast, too soon.” She placed a hand on his elbow comfortingly, almost making him blush again. “This job will eat you up if you let it. Just ask Roberts.” She turned around to gesture at one of the men she had been speaking to earlier.

“Fuck you, (L/n).” He laughs, and she gasped. 

“Not in front of the rookie, Roberts! We want him to think we’re nice!” She turned back to Leon, a playful grin reflecting in her eyes. “Well, either way, you went out there and did it, and I think you’re a real American hero.”

Leon chuckled. 

“Well, I can’t take up all of your time, I suppose.” She stepped away from his desk. “Just wanted to double-check you didn’t take any bullets. 1/10, would not recommend.”

“Yeah. No bullets taken. I promise.” 

“Good. I’ll see ya later, rookie.”She waved at him as she left the room, and Leon sat at his desk with a sigh, glaring at the paperwork that sat on the surface. (Y/n) was really nice and really pretty.

And fuck, he thinks he’s into her.

♦♣♥♠

Entering the S.T.A.R.S. office, (Y/n) sees that the door to Wesker’s office is closed, and it looks like he and Rebecca are talking inside. Jill, Barry, and Joeseph are all at their respective desks. (Y/n) takes her own seat, booting up her computer as she sets begins rifling through the folders  sitting in her drawers. It doesn’t take long for Jill to wheel her chair over to (Y/n)’s desk, not sitting very far away in the first place. 

“Hey, you and Rebecca are coming out to lunch tomorrow, right?” She asks.

“Yeah. Are you joining us?” (Y/n) wonders if maybe Jill was the other party in the ‘we’ Rebecca had mentioned.

“Mmhmm.” The senior officer nods before turning her attention over to Barry. “Hey, you’re still going out to lunch with Chris tomorrow, yeah?”

“For sure.”  Barry smiled at her. “You girls go have your fun!”

“Thanks, Barry.” Jill smiles at him, and (Y/n) realizes she asked Burton to play babysitter for Redfield… Damn, she’s good. And whatever it is that she and Rebecca wanna tell her about must be big to make her keep Chris out of the loop. What could be the cause of such a secret meeting?

Her thoughts are disrupted as Wekser and Rebecca emerge from the office, and Wesker addresses the room of elite officers.

“I want everyone here early tomorrow morning. We’ll be briefing this new mission as soon as everyone is present. Drag Redfield in by the collar if you have to.” And then he turned and left. 

(Y/n) turned to ask Jill a question, but she was already knee-deep in her own work again.

[insanitybyanothername]

[80smikewheeler]

Whoop whoop!! I’m so excited guys!!!! I F-I-N-A-L-L-Y, just ordered; ‘The Body’ by Stephen King !!!!!! 💖💖

BRING ON THE LACHAMBERS CONTENT !!!!! ASJSJGHDKJDKDSSS !!!

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

I know I’m the only person that wants this but I want that movie Stand By Me, the adaption from the book The Body, to be made into a tv show. Like, the first season would be before the events of trying to find the dead body, where Denny Lachance is still alive and the characters are just living their lives and Ray Brower could be there and then the season ends with Dennis dying and Ray going missing. Then the second season would be about the dead body of Ray and going to go find it. And then the third season would be when they are still kids, and they all deal with the aftermath of all that’s happened in the first two seasons. Do I want this just because the lives of these characters and their relationships intrigue me a strange amount and I want to see flashbacks of how these two different friend groups met and I imagined entire personalities in Ace’s gang for those who didn’t have one? Yes, thanks for asking. Speaking of flashbacks on how they met:

The older boys:

I have this feeling that Charlie Hogan and Billy Tessio probably knew each other since preschool. They probably both wanted to slide down the slide first and ended up getting into an actual fist fight that the teacher didn’t care enough to break up. Afterwards Billy was probably like, “Okay, we fought so we’re friends now.” “Huh?” “Yeah, I heard that if you fight with someone, then you become friends.” “Nuh uh!” “Yeah huh! I heard it on TV.” “Oh, okay.” Unfortunately, nobody else seemed to share this mindset as they started beating up people they wanted to be friends with, and nobody wanting to return that offer of friendship for some reason. They were the epitome of single brain cell shared between them even back then. And nobody gave a damn about either of them enough to explain why their friend making strategy was a bit flawed.

Then there was Ace Merrill, or John Merrill, who Charlie and Billy didn’t really pay attention to until in the third grade when he demanded everyone started calling him Ace. Everyone immediately complied, since Ace was absolutely terrifying, known for going batshit insane at the hint of disrespect. Once a kid didn’t let him borrow a pencil, so when Ace did get his hands on a pencil, he stabbed the kids eye with it. But Charlie and Billy kept forgetting to call him Ace, which Ace took as a slight, and beat them both up. Ace expected that to be the end of it, only to be completely baffled at how now Charlie and Billy wanted to be his friends. As they tried to explain their ideology, Ace thought it was stupid but the two of them were persistent, and that’s how Ace begrudgingly allowed them to hang around him, but had to explain to them that not every person they would beat up would become their friends, which they had to come to terms with much to their dismay. They did start remembering to call him Ace, although it took months.

In the sixth grade is where Eyeball Chambers comes in, or Richard Chambers. Upon entering middle school Ace and his ‘lackeys’ Charlie and Billy had gotten quite the reputation. Ace has evolved his batshitness into something a bit more terrifying; he’d talk gently to you while making threats, smile at you, right before breaking every bone in your body while yelling angrily at you. Now, Richard was a pretty quiet kid, always covered in bruises from his old man, not wanting any attention. But one day he gained Ace’s attention; walking home from school he accidentally tripped over Ace’s bike, breaking it. Ace was unhappy about this, so he gave his usual gentle talking before he pinned Richard to the ground and put out his cigarette just under his eye, accidentally missing his eye, while Charlie and Billy shouted insults and threats. He was going to do more but than Richard was so nonchalant about this injury, not even making any sound of pain. Richard calmly said that he would fix Ace’s bike, to which the three other boys called bullshit, saying that Richard wasn’t smart enough. The three boys followed Richard to his work shed, surprised to find all sorts of little built machines. As it turns out, Richard was good at making things. He fixed Ace’s bike easy, but at that moment Richard’s dad came in drunk and started attacking Richard, breaking Ace’s bike once again. The three boys fought off Richard’s dad and took the bike and Richard and ran. Richard apologized for the bike and Ace just shrugged, saying he could just fix it again. After that, the three boys, especially Ace, would start hanging out with Richard, asking him to fix random stuff, him gaining the nickname Eyeball. Ace actually gave him that name as a strange way of apologizing for the scar. The more Eyeball and Ace hung out, it became clear that Eyeball was somehow special to Ace, and Ace’s favoritism of him was so blatantly obvious it wasn’t even funny. While Billy and Charlie would occasionally suffer the wrath of Ace, as well as the later members of the gang would, never Eyeball.

A year later in 7th grade is where both Vince Desjardins and Fuzzy Bracowicz, or Norman Bracowicz, would join this dangerous group of messed up kids. Vince was easily scared, and when someone or something scared him he would just throw one of the rocks he always kept on his pockets at them and run away, and he was a damn fast runner. So people kept their distance from Vince, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his rock. Now with Ace’s gang, they were an even more dangerous threat with Eyeball. He was still a quiet kid, but if people messed with his friends he would beat them up, although he didn’t care if people messed with just him, having gotten used to it from his dad. His friends however, especially Ace, would care a great deal, so nobody messed with him either. But then Eyeball accidentally spooked Vince which resulted in a rock to the face. Eyeball really didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but his friends thought otherwise. He tried to argue that he’s had worse injuries, AKA his dad, but that was evidently an ineffective argument as they would spend the next week trying to beat up Vince, only for him to out run them each time. They were then approached by Fuzzy, having gotten that nickname in the 5th grade when he threw a possum at his teacher and laughed, and he offered a plan to offer a truce to Vince to hang out and drink, and then jump him once Vince was drunk. They asked why he was helping them, and Fuzzy apparently just thought this entire situation was hilarious, and he wanted to witness the whole thing. So Fuzzy goes and convinces Vince, the most jumpy kid they knew, to come hang out with the most dangerous group in town who have spent the entire week trying to beat him up, a feat that truly impressed the gang. The rest of the gang tried not to get drunk along with Vince but as it turned out Vince was actually a fun person to hang out with and they ended up getting just as plastered. And sure enough, both Fuzzy and Vince began hanging out with the group. They told Vince later what their original plan was, to which he responded that he hated every single one of them, while leaning against Fuzzy and his legs on Charlie’s lap. (I like to think that this group of friends are very physically intimate with each other)

And finally, in the 9th grade is when the final addition to the group was made; Jack Mudgett. Jack had just moved to town, and had made an impression when he was asked to introduce himself to the class, to which he looked straight at the teacher and said, “If you make me do that I will shit all over your desk. Seriously. I’ll take the shit and rub it all over.” Evidently, he wanted to be left alone. And naturally, Fuzzy thought messing him was the peak of amusement, and he recruited Charlie and Billy into his cause, with Eyeball, Vince, and Ace only joining in occasionally. At this point, even upon entering high school were the older high schoolers thought they could knock Ace’s gang down a peg, they found themselves sorely mistaken, and at this point even the police didn’t want to handle them. Vince, while still jumpy, can now hold his own in a fight, although if something spooks him he will throw the rock first, only running if he’s alone. Jack, in response to this bullying from the most feared group in the town, was to be perfectly blunt and tell them they disgust him. Ace, naturally, beat him up so badly that he had to go to the hospital for a few days. But when he came back to school, he continued acting blunt towards them like they didn’t just send him to the hospital. This happened again and again, with Jack never learning his lesson, and at this point Ace is ready to cut off a limb or kill him or something, but Fuzzy thinks this is fantastic and practically begged Ace to let him join the gang. Ace said no, of course, even when Fuzzy got the other friends to ask too. But one day in the cafeteria, while Fuzzy and the rest of the gang were loudly making their case to Ace with Ace threatening to stab all of them, Eyeball spoke up and said that having Jack in the gang could be fun, to which Ace immediately complied and walked over the Jack immediately and practically dragged him to the table; again, blatant favoritism. Jack of course is unhappy with this arrangement, not wanting to be friends with them, but after some time actually fit into the group very well, and he joined the close knit nature of the group.

They probably all bullied Denny to be honest. Jack was the one that came up with the idea to carve a word into their arms, although he was being sarcastic, but Charlie and Billy hatched onto the idea and persisted until it was decided to actually go through with it.

The younger boys:

Gordie Lachance and Chris Chambers probably met in kindergarten. Gordie was always by himself, having trouble connecting with other kids, and Chirs was by himself too, since the other kids parents had warned them all to stay away from that Chambers kid. However, one day Gordie was by himself in the sand, talking to himself. Chris saw this and approached him, asking what he was doing. Chris didn’t really expect a response since most kids ignored him, but Gordie was thrilled at the possibility of a friend, and told him all about this story he was making up. Gordie didn’t really expect Chris to care, since nobody cared except Denny, but Chris was enraptured by his story. And so they became each other’s friends, since nobody else would bother with them.

It was just the two of them until 2nd grade, when both Vern Tessio and Teddy Duchamp joined in, although the came into the group separately. Vern was first, probably struggling hard with some assignment, and all the other kids would always make fun of him for being stupid, except for Gordie and Chris; they only make fun of their friends, which at this point in time was just the two of them. Gordie felt bad and let Vern copy off of him, although they were caught by the teacher and both got in trouble. Chris told them both off and said that Gordie should have just taught Vern how to do it rather than let him copy off him, the mom of the group even back then. And so both Chis and Gordie would help Vern study with varying success, but those study sessions quickly formed into hang out sessions.

It was later into the year when Teddy would join them. The trio were hanging out, and they saw Teddy actually trying to steal a car, although having no idea how to go about it given that he was in the 2nd grade. They went over, Chris saying that if he didn’t know how to steal a car then he probably shouldn’t go ahead and do it, since he’d probably just get caught. Vern said that this reminded him of something and then rambled on about, while Gordie actually managed to get the car door open and start the car. They all turned to Gordie, to which he shrugged and said he read about how to do it, since he was thinking of a story that had someone stealing a car. And Teddy the whole time was just standing their thinking who the hell were these weirdos? But with the now properly stolen car, Teddy wanted to take it for a spin and got Gordie to scoot over. Not wanting to leave Gordie alone in the car with the class maniac, Chris got in to, and Vern got in as well, not wanting to be left behind. Teddy immediately crashed it and they all had to run away from the scene. After that, Teddy just started hanging around them, and before they knew it they were the infamous gang of misfits; the bad news Chambers kid, the Lachance’s failed son, that Duchamp loon’s even loonier kid, and the second idiot the Tessio family produced.

[ask-them-bois]

Muzzle the Monster, Cage Its Teeth

(A drabble about the first time Alaric donned its muzzle.)

TW: cannibalism mention, cannibalism attempt, kinda gross description of eating raw meat.

.

Alaric sighed, dropping its forehead onto its knee. Its eyes ached to close, its hair falling in a curtain around its head. It was so tired, so scared....

So hungry.

A new hunger, that no amount of grilled cactus or fish could quench. It had been in the desert for... how long now? Half a sweep? More? It all felt the same to Alaric. Day and night meant nothing to a creature that could withstand both.

Its new thirst for blood is what had kept it from finding its way out of its endless, sandy prison. Its heart ached, just as much as its gastric sac, for a different sort of fulfillment- that of the company of its fellow trolls.

But Alaric would not return to the cities and towns. Not now, not ever. It was not safe. Its hunger too great. It could hold back the tide, but only just. Everything ached.

Everything was empty.

Its prosthetic hummed against its forehead, a puff of exhaust steam warming the jadeblood’s face and stirring its hair.

Taking a breath, Alaric raised its head and looked around. It had stepped out of its cavern for a breath of fresh air, the cold desert night searing its lungs. On a clear night, like this one, it could see all the way to the beast’s skeleton, the ivory remains gleaming under the twin moons’ silvery light. Alaric didn’t know what the beast was, or where it came from, or how long it had been there, but the giant figure was a comfort, as the sightless sockets kept watch over Alaric’s cavern.

The jadeblood got to its feet, closing its eyes and swaying on the spot as dizziness overwhelmed it. Hunger gnawed at its stomach, clawed at its throat, despite Alaric having eaten only an hour or so prior.

It turned and went back inside.

Down, down, to the lowest chamber of the cavern, it sought out the mothergrub that resided there. She wasn’t like the others of her kind. She was ancient, her carapace turned an array of dull colors that encapsulated the entire hemospectrum. She was defected, no longer able to produce “normal” grubs, but Alaric fed her and tended to her all the same. She chirred when Alaric approached, leaning down to nuzzle its head in greeting.

Her current brood, of fourteen, were clambering about her body, enjoying their time outside of the vats before the sun rose. Each and every one them, deformed in some way.

Alaric scooped the nearest one up; a goldblood with four eyes, all of different colors. His body was still soft from recent hatching; it’d harden in the coming weeks, and Alaric would send for lusii to come take the grubs away.

The little goldblood trilled as Alaric held it up, the grub’s six horns still fuzzy with velvet. The fuzz would fall off eventually, as the horns hardened and the grub prepared for pupation.

It always saddened the jadeblood to see the little ones go, but it was happy that it at least gave them a chance. Alternia needed mutants, whether it realized it or not. They were good, and fun, and Alaric found more kinship with the abnormal than with those that conformed to their colors.

Alaric set the gold on its shoulder, where the little grub dutifully clung to its vest, pressing his face into Alaric’s neck for warmth. Alaric had little warmth to offer, but the grub didn’t seem to mind, his whole, little body vibrating as he buzzed.

With its companion on its shoulder, Alaric went about cleaning up and preparing to feed the grubs. While the grubmother watched the other thirteen, Alaric swept up, and fetched the protein sludge that the grubs fed on.

It finished setting up the feeding station, before it whistled, calling for the grubs to come eat. Alaric set the little gold down, and it scampered off for its bowl. Alaric watched the other grubs tumble off the grubmother to join their brother, their excited squeals and chirps echoing around the chamber.

Alaric turned to watch them approach, grinning at the sight of the little swarm, when it froze like an antler-beast in headlights.

Time seemed to slow down as it saw the little blueblood with too many legs trip and fall off the grubmother’s tall back, instead of sliding down her tail like the rest.

Before it could register that it had moved, Alaric was across the room, catching the grub in its arms, and the little blue let out a sharp squeal of pain.

Alaric snapped back to itself as a smell hit its nose.

Blood.

Its eyes widened in horror at the sight of a small cut on the blueblood’s squishy body, one of the spikes on Alaric’s glove shimmering with the indigo ichor. Droplets beaded up on the wound, which was barely the length of Alaric’s fingernail and as thin as paper. To the reeling Alaric, to the whimpering grub, it was the size of a bullet wound.

Back then, before the crash, before it went rogue, Alaric would have known what to do. Even now, its thinkpan and instincts were screaming in tandem, urging it to go put the grub in the medicalizer, but Alaric couldn’t move, knelt next to the grubmother’s belly, with a bleeding grub in its hands.

Bleeding.

It was so... so...

Hungry.

Its stomach seized and snarled, like Alaric had never eaten a thing in its life, as the scent of blood filled its lungs. Its vision went white, its teeth aching, mouth suddenly flooded with saliva.

Bite, its brain urged, bite him. Feed. He is helpless, weak. Easy prey. Easy food.

Alaric wasn’t certain what happened next. It could recall feeling the grub’s body against its teeth. It had been so soft- softer than the blood-drained meat of the other trackscuttler crash victims. It couldn’t think, its body moving on its own.

And then it was struck, hard, on the temple, and Alaric reeled backwards, its head slamming to the stone floor. Pain exploded through its skull and sparking down its spine as its horn collided with the ground. Overwhelmed, it may have passed out for a moment.

When it came to, it managed to sit up, and it saw Otcheedad, its own lusus, with the grub held safely in his mouth. The otter-beast carefully set the little grub down, and licked the wound clean, urging the grub to go eat, before he returned to his charge.

Alaric slumped against the mothergrub, its stomach roiling with disgust and horror in equal measures, as it realized what it had nearly done.

Otcheedad glared at Alaric ruefully, before he walked away, only to return and drop a raw fish in its lap.

Eat that, not your grubs, the lusus seemed to say, before he went to watch over the little brood.

With shaking hands, Alaric picked up the fish and bit into it, blood and juices exploding into its mouth. It tore at the flesh and lapped up the blood, its clever tongue easily sliding between the bones so that it could suck up the fish’s innards.

When there was little left but bones, Alaric opened its eyes. Tossing the skeletal remains aside, it stumbled to its feet. Otcheedad would see to the grubs returning to their recuperacoons in its absence.

It wasn’t enough, though. It would never be enough. Alaric was drinking gilded gold, when it needed the real thing. The creature’s blood was a shameful echo of what it really needed.

It had to get away, the gnawing hunger demanding more than fucking fish blood.

It made its way outside, and mounted its all-terrain buggy. Sliding its goggles down, the machine roared to life and Alaric sped off, back towards the trackscuttler it had made into its hive.

It hurried inside, towards its respiteblock. It made its way to its writing desk, and ripped one of the drawers open, digging inside.

Where was it? Alaric tossed out journals, pens, quills and bottles in its frantic search. It could have sworn its teeth had grown, pressing against its lips.

It had bought the device some nights ago, as a precaution, if it really couldn’t control its urges. It didn’t think it would need the thing so soon, though, it’d wanted to try to control them before then, but-

The grub’s pained squeak came back to it, and it had to resist the urge to throw up. 

There! Throwing aside a diary of poems, it saw the contraption.

It pulled the thing out. Exiting the trackscuttler, it made its way down to the oasis- the only place it could see its reflection, for it had destroyed all the mirrors.

Kneeling at the water’s edge, it stared at its warped reflection as it slid the device on. The metal bits of the straps stung, freezing cold, against its jaw and cheeks.

The muzzle fit, though. It secured the device behind its head, and tugged on the front to make sure it would stay in place. It bit into the bridge of Alaric’s nose, and pinched its jaw. It hurt, but the pain was less than what Alaric felt, constantly, in its stomach.

Alaric could only just open its mouth, just enough to speak.

“It’s for your own good.” It told its reflection, its voice shaking, “So you don’t hurt anyone else.”

Alaric could have sworn its reflection looked mournful, and it agreed. It hated the thing it now wore, but it saw no other way.

It was a monster. It deserved to be caged. It deserved to suffer, and starve.

It was so, so hungry.

[boonesfarmsangria]

tagged by @mysteryoflovve  to share five snippets of literature/media that live in my head rent free to the point where i have them memorized (no cheating allowed!)

• wish the hell i was your dad. you wouldnt go around talking about taking these stupid shop courses if i was. its like god gave you something man, all those stories you can make up and he said this is what we got for you kid try not lose it. but kids lose everything unless theres someone there to look out for them. and if your parents are too fucked up to do it then maybe i should.

chirs chambers - stand by me

• this vid⬇️

whitmer thomas x (its the face he makes so, but its in my head all the time )

• Sergeant Gerry Boyle : Are the lights growing dim?

Liam O'Leary : Don't mock me.

Sergeant Gerry Boyle : It's good enough for ya.

Liam O'Leary : There's so many... so many things I wanted to do.

Sergeant Gerry Boyle : Like what for fuck's sake? Running with the bulls at Pamplona

*O'Leary continues dying from a gun shot wound*

O'Leary : tell my mo... tell my

Sergeant Gerry Boyle : Alright we'll see ya

The Guard

• I slouch

that sufjan stevens video from forever ago. you know the one

• i tried to make a call to heaven // phone lines cut back in '97 // radio silence all the way down

foals - syrups

thank you for the tag♥️ anyone that sees this and wants to do this, i tag you... or ya know keep it movin. peaces🌾

[keelywolfe]

Drabble: Egg-scape Artist (baon)

Summary: When Edge decided to get Stretch chickens as pets, this was not a problem he expected

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic, Fluff, Chickens!!

Notes: Whenever I am off-kilter or down, I love to write chicken adventures with the boys. Hope this drabble helps some of you have sweet dreams! ^_~

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it here!

~~*~~

His alarm hadn’t gone off yet, but Edge was already mostly awake, hanging in that gray space of waiting. Not that he wasn’t willing to get up, but the bed was warm and Stretch was snuggled up against him, clinging like a lovable burr and more on top of him than not.

It was worth waking a little early to get an extra moment to hold him.

Hardly a minute passed when he heard a strange sound, perhaps the very one that woke him. Peculiar and unknown through the white noise of the fan. Edge called up his magic, but kept a tight hold on it, wary of any possibility. But what he saw when he opened his sockets defied all logic.

Settled at the foot of their bed, her black feathers almost hidden in the dark room, was Nugget. Her low clucking, the sound he’d heard, was steadily growing in volume.

Edge stared for a long moment, disbelief warring with what his eye lights were telling him. This required secondary confirmation and he gave Stretch a firm nudge. “Rus.”

The grumbling sound Stretch made almost, but not quite, overshadowed Nugget’s chirring. He leaned up on an elbow that dug painfully into Edge’s rib cage and mumbled, “hummazat?”

“Rus, look down.”

From the way Stretch blinked owlishly, his eye lights wide and diffused, it was taking a bit for the words to filter through. Eventually they clicked and as he tipped his head downward, Nugget let out a loud cackle. She stood, revealing a small, perfect egg, ghostly pale in the dark of the room.

Stretch slowly sat up, the blanket sagging and his hands flopping down between his spread legs. He blinked slowly, watching as Nugget proudly cackled her success to them. “huh. this is a new dream. this is way better than the one where i’m standing around in a shower curtain and everyone starts throwing olives at me.”

“Not a dream,” Edge told him, dryly. He leaned down enough to pick up the egg. It was still warm.

“this is absolutely a dream,” Stretch insisted. He pointed an accusing finger at Nugget, who only settled happily back onto the comforter. “if i roll over right now and pull the blanket over my head, in the morning this will all be gone. poof!”

“The only way that is going to be true is if you get up and take your troublemaker back to the coop while I figure out how she got in here. Otherwise, you might be finding out what kind of bed companion she is when I go to work.”

Stretch groaned. “fine, fine.” He slid out of the bed, joints popping as he arched his back before stumbling over to his bathrobe. “how does she keep getting out? and how did she get in? where did you get these birds, harry potter’s chamber of poultry?”

“No, it was from Harry Houdini and his bag of chicks,” Edge told him as he changed out of his pajamas.

“good one.” The snicker he got was still sleepy but appreciative. The clucking that came afterward was less so and Stretch still didn’t seem quite steady on his feet as he wobbled out, unhappy chicken in hand.

Edge was downstairs inspecting the house when he shortcutted back in, yawning out, “anything?”

“Not a thing.” It was unnerving, especially if you took away the fact that he wasn’t keen on his bed being used as a secondary nest, even if he did appreciate the eggs.

“face it, you found the chicken equivalent of a wizard. maybe a witch?” Stretch grinned. “she does seem to find you be-witching.”

Edge made a rude sound. “Be that as it may, I think we need to dis-spell that notion. She needs to stop wand-dering off.”

Not his best effort, but it was worth it to see the comical dismay on Stretch’s face, his smile dropping so quickly Edge could nearly hear the crash. “you brat. always when i don’t have my phone!”

Stretch sulkily accepted a commiserating kiss before flopping down on the sofa. He limply flapped a dismissive hand at Edge. “go to work, i’ll look around more later. we’ll figure it out.”

“You do have more experience than me getting into places you shouldn’t be.” Edge pulled the blanket off the sofa back and tucked it around Stretch, pressing a light kiss to the top of his skull and murmured, “Get some more sleep, love.”

But he looked out the back door at the coop before he left, eye lights narrowed. Nugget was pecking around peacefully, for all the world a simple chicken and not a pugnacious poultry escapist.

They would figure it out. Until then, they would need to keep a close eye on their little trickster so she would remain properly penned despite her knack for escape, for several reasons.

For one, if he let a chicken outmatch him in a battle of wits, his brother would never let him forget it.

-finis-

[elitaxne]

Elita is suddenly bombarded with two bitlets as Cygnus and Cephei burst into the berth room, scrambling on the berth in a flailing fit of small limbs while hopping across towards her in sing-song unison. "Mama, mama are we gonna get a bitty?! Papa says we might get a new bitty!!"

♔. }

                                                               {{ Sorry, Love~ }}

       Ridges crinkled as she lowered the data pad, pausing in her reading of the newest policy report to focus on the cryptic message whispered across the bond.

                                                                {{ What— }}

Before more could be said the question was answered, as Cygnus and Cephei LAUNCHED themselves into her berth and scrambled over. Elita ex-vented slowly, staring off towards the vacant door with a dulled expression. Dammit, Prime. You had ONE job: put the twins to berth. Instead, here they are, riled up and rearing for a younger sibling.

Setting the report on the berthside table the Councillor sighed, patting each tiny frame still wriggling about. ❝ Easy, Brightsparks… settle down, ❞ she hushed, but again their chorus of questions repeated. Tinted lip plates twitched into a teasing smile, optical ridge quirking on an angle. ❝ Oh he did, did he? ❞ Elita crooned, giving her helm a shake, ❝ Your Papa and I have yet to actually DISCUSS the possibility of another bitty. I think he just wanted to make sure you both would be happy first. It is a FAMILY decision after all… ❞ Smooth alto trailed off.

Cygnus and Cephei shook their helms rapidly, at a rate Elita reached over in fear of them snapping their own neck joints. ❝ We wanna bitty !! ❞ they chirped, clambering into her lap.

❝ Can we haf the bitty now? ❞ Cygnus asked through a yawn.

❝ Yeah, can we haf the bitty nooooowwwwww? ❞ Cephei chirred, pressing her servos against Elita’s midsection for support. It was getting harder to stay upright, the excitement and late evening had worn both of them out…

❝ Now? Right this second? That may be difficult to do… ❞ Elita teased, carefully shimmying into a more relaxed recline as both younglings cuddled up close to her chassis, just like they use to when THEY were bitties. Once reconfigured in a better position the fuchsia femme hummed, staring down to the two sets of identical inherited cerulean hues peeking up to hers.

❝ I am glad to know you want another sibling, but, I would be the one to carry them. Remember? Like I did for you both… ❞ Elita began, slowly and softly. Cygnus and Cephei nodded. Yes, they knew. They didn’t REMEMBER, but she was their Carrier, and had heard all sorts of stories when she was carrying them. How Mama would sing to them, and Papa would read them stories, they even saw the first sonogram taken when their sparks before they had split. It wasn’t such a big deal. Mama had done it before, she could do it again — piece of oil cake!

❝ So, how about this — can we compromise? ❞ the Councillor murmured, watching as the twins stared back up to her warily but ultimately agreed to listen. ❝ Let Papa and I talk about it first, and once we talk, we can ALL decide together… okay? ❞

Cygnus and Cephei nodded with tiny frowns, curling closer to the cool embrace of sweet scented fuchsia. But they wanted a bitty NOW, what was there to talk about? Elita hummed, nuzzling the small helms and placing another kiss to each. ❝ Fair? ❞ she whispered, and barely coherent ‘fairs’ responded lethargically.

Elita smiled, tucking them in place at her side beneath the thermal blanket, watching as they wordlessly drifted off to recharge; sound asleep against her chassis. It had been so long since they had been this way, it reminded her of when she had first held them in the recovery room, just like this, only difference was their size; how tiny and fragile they were. Tiny puffs of air against her plating, the little digits splayed over cool plates, spark pulses all falling into tandem within a matter of seconds, all the memories flooded back and the femme bit back the ache in her spark chamber.

                  She had missed this way more than previously thought.

             {{ Careful when you get into berth, we have some visitors spending the night… }}

[teratoscope]

Repton

The inside of the dome is a hothouse; your optics fog the moment you cut inside. The ground shifts and gives slightly under your feet. Nothing is paved here, except with what you’re guessing is piles of chipped rubber strewn across a concrete foundation. The whole place feels like you’ve wandered into a nightmare version of a playground; a hopeless tangle of brightly-painted metal and plastic, some entirely abstract and some molded in crude imitation of jungle foliage, weaves around and above you. Featureless black domes break up the terrain, some the size of houses. And then there’s the noise, the inescapable wall of sound this place throws at you. Synthetic insect chirring, the hiss and hum of climate regulators, a distant rumble of turbines and churning coolant somewhere far below, and a repetitive, ear-splitting whoop. Which, you’re realizing, is almost certainly an alarm. Your hosts are well camouflaged against the terrain; bright, many-colored scales gleam under the half-light that catches in the heady atmosphere like insects in amber. They dangle from bars and false branches, then drop to the ground and pace tight circles around you, watching the graphics flit across the inner surface of the dusky orange domes fused over their eyes. Some break formation to get a closer look, then flee back into the labyrinthine reaches above. “Are they supposed to be cute?” says Dak. Weapon racks pop loose from hidden chambers in the floor and out of “trees,” clattering into place. The Reptons rush them, squabbling for the prime pickings before some unseen force goads them to break away and take the next gun down. “You tell me,” you say.

HD 1 MV 180’ climb AC 14 AT bite (d4+1) or by weapon Special network

Network—all Reptons are networked to each other and their devices. Unless their comms are jammed, a Repton soldier always has a precise understanding of their distance relative to their squadmates and all Repton-aligned tech, and can communicate with both. Furthermore, all Reptons have access to their network’s algorithmic assistance. If the Reptons in question are in combat with a target that has fought networked Reptons before, they gain +1 to attack and initiative rolls for every one of these prior encounters (up to 6).

1d6 Repton Weapons

1.     Lance caster. 3d3 kinetic, 90’ range, six-shot clip. Semi-automatic magnetic bolt-thrower. Individual bolts are about as long as a human forearm, brightly colored to stand out for easy recovery and reload. Reptons struggle with tracking ammunition in high-tension situations, and also with aiming; lance casters tend to be assigned to top-percentile fighters.

2.     Buddy gun. 1d4+3 heat, 240’ range, battery exhausts and needs to be re-cranked for 1d3 rounds on a max-damage roll. Onboard AI provides procedurally generated moral support. Weapon of choice for the average Repton grunt.

3.     Bughucker. Xd10 explosive, 400’ range, can house and fire up to three shells at once, dealing damage equal to shells fired. Launches a suicide drone resembling an overfed beetle that chases its target using impenetrable precognitive algorithms. The damage from a successful attack roll with a Bughucker “arrives” 2d3 rounds after the round is actually fired. It takes 1 round to arm and load a shell. The definition of a fire-and-forget weapon.

4.     Mega-cuffs. 2d6 kinetic, melee weapon. Allows an extra 60’ rocket-assisted charge in a straight line as part of an attack. Fuel explodes for 3d6 damage in a 15’ radius on a critical miss (Dex check for half for everyone but the Repton wearing it).

5.     Rad-hoser. 30’ cone, 2d4 Rads (Dex check for half). Sprays goopy, luminescent reactor discharge. Widely used to clear ground for development.

6.     Slough cannon. 60’ cone, 1d8+1 damage from abrasion and hemorrhaging (Con check for half). Damage die implodes each round: roll damage at the top of the round and apply if the damage is less than the damage dealt last round; otherwise the effect ends. Deals no damage to targets in airtight armor. Weapon reaches dangerous operating temperatures; on firing the wielder takes 1d3 heat damage. Fires an expanding cloud of nanoassemblers designed to revert living tissue to uncommitted stem cells and package it for future use.

1d8 Repton Devices

1.     Black cylinder the size of a coffee maker held aloft on a dirty yellow repulsor field. Synthesized voice squawks instructions in decidedly un-reptilian but still unrecognizable language in time with strobes of decorative light piping. Neural-network assisted targeting means that each consecutive missed shot grants a +1 to the next attack made by any Repton. AC 8, hp 12, MV 90’ hover

2.     Modular railgun. Takes three dedicated team members and a full round to assemble, aim & fire, hucks anything that fits in the barrel and can hold a charge for 10d10 kinetic damage in a 600’ straight line (Dex check to dodge). All pieces emblazoned with thorough visual aids that walk the user through the assembly process.

3.     Egg-shaped plastic housing the size of a football with a set of neural interface leads coiled around a magnetic support stand. When wired up, user enters a hypnagogic state for six hours, after which leads detach and user wakes with no memory of their state of unconsciousness. For the subsequent 48 hours, user has instantaneous and entirely subconscious grasp of Repton engineering, will service Repton devices without noticing if their hands are not kept otherwise occupied. Reptons will ignore anyone who sticks close to one of these things, and actively assist a user. Continuous use risks permanent nerve damage.

4.     Short brass rod ending in t-shaped prong. So long as it remains aimed at a single biological target, the target’s sensory faculties are greatly reduced (disadvantage to all tests of perception), and pain, fatigue, and sickness register only as a faint, pleasurable itch (so long as effect is sustained, player has no knowledge of their hit point total and is immune to penalties from distraction/pain/morale).

5.     Repton-sized metal pylon ringed with sturdy levers. Interface panel shows map of local terrain and best-fit route from current location to resource-rich zone. Requires a team of ten Reptons (or three to four reasonably strong humans) to open, revealing opalescent, filigreed structure, like a fossil basket star curled around a flickering, barely perceptible mote of solid black. Upon release, computronium seed begins to unfold and put down roots. Surrounding six-mile radius will become a fully functional and populated Repton habitat within a month.

6.     Amoeboid drone; flexile smart-matter body around hard-framed central storage armatures. Absorbs wounded Reptons and deposits them in “care spheres” where internal limbs mend/foam over wounds and dose the patient with combat amphetamines. One round to recover an incapacitated Repton, 2d3 rounds to redeploy with a rerolled hit die and +4 to hit and damage. MV 120’, AC 10, hp 14.

7.     Mobile terrarium. Looks like a Rainforest Café stapled to the back of a mechanical crab. Reptons stationed in one never flee; they defend their home to the death. “Trees” extrude clone mealworm paste and simulation fruit flesh in narcotic, mildly hallucinogenic, and blue raspberry flavors. Guided by competent but nonverbal AI. Personalities tend to be grudgingly servile to overseers, pleasantly exasperated with crew in a way that should be familiar to any cat owner. MV 90’, AC 16, hp 80

8.     Meta-Rover. Modular all-terrain vehicle, top operable combat speed of 300’/round. Like a pile of motorized, armored bigwheels bolted together into a single day-glo abomination, until it separates into a swarm of single-seaters. Vehicles can hypothetically link indefinitely, but for every unit after the 6th there’s a 1 in 10 chance at the end of each round that the drivers fall catastrophically out of sync and the assemblage spins out.

The Reptons were the first species we encountered in the Contact War, and if it had only ever been them, things might have been different.

The average individual Repton is about as canny as an especially dull chimp in most regards. They’re reasonably talented tool-users, but if you were to raise one from the egg, away from their infrastructure, their at-birth implants, and mainline Repton culture, it would take some serious goading to get them to so much as flint-knap.

And yet as a group, Reptons are deadly. They fight tactically, often making unexpected gambits, and they fight with little regard for their individual well-being. They communicate constantly, though no-one has yet been able to decipher Repton script or spoken language; Repton “writing” features six thousand plus distinct characters and counting and doesn’t seem to have any fixed direction you’re supposed to read it. And their war effort is driven by arms and manufacturing tech that is sometimes leagues ahead of what humanity is capable of, or founded on utterly inscrutable scientific principles, even if the interfaces often seem designed for preschoolers.

But nobody has a clear, substantiated explanation for how they wound up with their tech in the first place. A camp in Freestar One’s strategic research division theorizes that they are the leftovers of a species that lost its evolutionary pressures towards sapience; another argues that they are an uplifted species whose patrons abandoned them, died out, or supervise them from a distance. Stranger explanations exist.

What is known is that their computers are frighteningly powerful and all of their machines talk to each other. Their industrial society is kept afloat purely by the power of their algorithms and the constant influx of resources provided by their ongoing conquest of the planet—the Reptons themselves are merely the hands that authorize and facilitate the intricate automatic processes of invention and fabrication that build their domed cities, develop their food, medicine, entertainment, and weapons, grow and indoctrinate their children, and schedule their lives.

They are vestigial components in a vast machine with no capacity to recognize itself or any part within, operating on the sprawling organic logic of a dream instantiated by engineers lost to time.

Anyone who’s been deployed in Repton territory can attest to the uncanny atmosphere they carry with them. No individual part of a Repton crew behaves like a person. But there is something that emerges in the interplay, as they fumble with their devices and their devices fumble with them, that suggests an intellect inherent to neither. If you watch them from the right distance—not too far, not too close—they resolve into something distressingly like us.

[fadingcoast]

Death of the Lie  ||  Chapter 7: Hope

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism​ & @fadingcoast​

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: None. RATING: Teen. WARNINGS: Graphic depictions of violence. Graphic depiction of childbirth. Child abuse. Angst. Bullying.

No real warning for this chapter!

Taglist is open!!

Masterlist

@igotloki @xalgaliareptx @wolfpawn @fairlightswiftly @christy-winchester @silverhart93

Chapter 7: Hope

To Loki’s great surprise, Thor had been right. In the months leading to his departure many things did, in fact, change.

That night, despite being exhausted, Loki opened up to his brother. Once he started talking it was difficult to stop. It was as if a dam inside him had held back all of his struggles and all of his words for so many years, and now it was beginning to break. For the first time in forever, Loki felt he was being heard. He confided in his brother all the nights he had cried himself to sleep, trying to overcome the urge to self harm, as well as all the nights he didn’t succeed and ended up on the healers’ ward, beating himself up over his constant failure.

Thor listened patiently to Loki’s recounts of hiding in corridors and empty cupboards to get away from his friends. Of hiding the bruises from their parents, or making cheap excuses. Thor listened, it didn’t matter that half of what Loki was saying he already knew. He had been there when his friends planned to “prank” his little brother. He had been there when they carried out their plans. He had been there when the palace staff alerted Frigga, and had watched from a safe distance how Odin had dismissed and blamed Loki for everything. He had played ignorant to the scheming and had laughed about it afterwards, and Loki had paid the price.

Thor knew they were beyond apologies now. He had seen most of it and done nothing. Like their own father, Thor had blinded himself to Loki’s suffering. He had played it as harmless jokes when they were kids, and after that he just assumed Loki would just accept them. He hadn’t wanted to see how much damage and torment he was causing, was enabling.

That night, he had been with his parents when the Einheri came carrying Heimdall’s warning. Thor had to see for himself what his mother had told him a million times and he had refused to believe. The blood stained blade on the floor, the slash on Loki’s wrist, the pinkish water… Thor couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

He had to make amends before it cost Loki his life.

The first step was for Thor to have a serious discussion with his friends. They were confused by his request to leave Loki alone, as Thor would not reveal the true motives behind his change of attitude. Yet, it was easy to threaten them with telling the King about their treatment of a Prince of the Realm and expulsion from court.

The one time Fandral took Thor’s words lightly, he ended up being pinned down by Mjölnir for a few hours.

Loki caught on to what Thor was doing, but decided not to say anything. He was grateful that his brother was finally standing up for him. They trained more together, and shared ale after dinner. Thor even invited Loki to join him at the tavern, but wasn’t surprised when he declined.

The only thing that didn’t change was Odin. He was as dismissive of Loki as always. Despite his initial support, Loki knew his father wasn’t happy about him going to Alfheim. He suspected Odin was hesitant to surrender control over Loki’s life and was furious there was no other way to “fix” him. Odin’s attitude enraged Thor; how could he still treat Loki the way he did knowing what his indifference and constant disapproval caused?

Once or twice, Thor tried to talk to his father about it, but if Frigga didn’t get through Odin, Thor doubted he could.

.-

The first cold day of the season finally came. The sun was shining bright, but the wind coming from the mountains was chill. It marked the end of the hot season. And it meant Loki had to leave Asgard. He was animated by the prospect of studying seidr in an actual Sanctum. It was clear that his mother, as powerful as she was, couldn’t advance his education any further. But a sense of dread came along with it. He had been homeschooled for most of his life, and his social skills weren’t exactly advanced. The idea of sharing classes and spaces with other people as he developed a skill he barely understood himself was at least overwhelming.

Loki had never come in contact with the Elves of Alfheim before, so he studied their history and their customs as best as he could while preparing to leave. He learned King Frèyr was the current ruler, though he was Vanir by birth. Politics were obscure and some of the information was missing from the Asgard archives, but apparently the elves liked the King enough.

Odin and Frigga had invited the king to Asgard, to arrange Loki’s stay at the palace and his inclusion to the school. Frèyr came across as nice, light hearted and amenable. He had even praised Loki’s magic after Frigga made him do a small demonstration, as to explain why they needed him to go to Alfheim. It was clear to the King of the Elves that Loki’s potential exceeded the extensive but still limited seidr knowledge that the Queen possessed.

Loki knew he would be welcome at the palace in Alfheim. Getting accepted into the Sanctum was another matter, one he would have to tackle once he got there. But Frèyr still assured him that if he didn't get accepted, the regular teachers were just as good, and vastly superior than the Aesir ones anyway. Odin shifted uncomfortably at the claim, and Loki had to suppress a laugh. He could’ve sworn Frèyr winked at him.

During Loki’s preparations, the rift between himself and Thor began to heal. Loki knew things would never return to the way they were in the carefree days of their early childhood, before Thor’s pride and Loki’s fear changed everything, but the scar that formed in the wound in their brotherhood hurt less and less every day, and Loki believed one day it was possible they could be real brothers again. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Loki had hope of a brighter future.

.-

Loki trudged down the Bifrost bridge with Thor and their mother, silently. His head was a cornucopia of emotions. He felt sad, excited, happy, fearful, anxious, nervous… all at the same time. Frigga held his hand, offering a smile to calm him down.

“How aren’t you cold?” Thor asked, closing his cape around him to keep the chill out.

Loki shook his head and shrugged. “I am cold, it just doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, everyone knows I am the hotter brother,” Thor said, with a playful smirk.

“That would only mean I am the cooler one,” Loki said plainly.

Thor laughed loudly, and slapped Loki hard on his back, making the younger brother huff and trip a little. Loki glared at him, with a hint of amusement behind it. They were nearing the Bifrost chambers, and could see Heimdall waiting for them at the gate.

“Your majesties,” he greeted them with a nod. “Alfheim is ready for your arrival, my prince.” Heimdall stepped aside and placed his large sword into the Bifrost heart. “I will let you say your goodbyes.”

“I am actually going to miss you, little bro,” Thor said. “I wish we had more time… that I had made more time, for you.” He sighed deeply.

Loki smiled faintly. “I ain’t dying yet, Thor.”

It was meant as a joke, but Thor looked concerned anyway. Loki shook his head.

“I mean it. I ain’t dying yet,” Loki said more seriously.

Thor didn’t answer. Instead he gave his brother a tight hug, one of those that made Loki wheeze. Both brothers giggled. Loki turned to Frigga.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Frigga asked, holding his hands.

“Yes, mother. I need to do this by myself.” Loki gave her hands a small squeeze. “King Frèyr will be waiting for me. I’ll be settled in the castle in no time and I promise I will write every full moon.”

Frigga smiled and looked up at him, cupping his face in her hands. “You’ve grown so much.” Loki was almost as tall as Thor now, all impossibly long limbs, taut muscles and lean build.

Loki hugged his mother tightly, burying his face in her shoulder.

“Why- why didn’t he come?” Loki muttered quietly before stepping back and looking at Frigga.

Thor let out a small groan, and Frigga glared at him.

“He’s... busy. Niflheim dwarves are complicated and temperamental,” she said with a faint smile.

Loki nodded in disappointment, but decided to let Frigga believe he accepted her lie.

“Where are your trunks?” Thor asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Why would I need trunks? I can summon my belongings once I get to the palace,” Loki said, as it was the most obvious thing in the nine realms.

“Right!” Thor said, shaking his head.

Loki stepped to the circular gateway and nodded to Heimdall. The massive sword chirred as it moved, lighting the Bifrost alive. Energy hummed and the chamber vibrated as the spire whirled into the right position. Loki smiled at Frigga and Thor one last time before the multicolored light swallowed him.

As fast as it started, the Bifrost came to a rest.

Frigga took a deep breath. She was still wringing her hands in a nervous habit, reciting a small prayer in her mind.

“Why are you making excuses for him?” Thor asked in a low tone, distracting Frigga from her thoughts. “You know what you said is not true, I know it’s not true. Loki knows it’s not true!” He stared hard at his mother. “One of these days your first instinct with Loki won’t be to lie to him.”

Frigga didn’t answer. Thor didn’t know how true his statement was.

.-

Loki arrived on Alfheim safely after a short ride on the Bifrost. The sight that greeted him was breathtaking: a massive forest of ancient trees like he had never seen in Asgard spread across the horizon, as far as the eye could see.

In the clearing where he landed was a circular structure made of white stones, with three trails leading out of it. A guard was stationed on each road, and one was accompanied by another guard and a young woman. Behind them, 3 horses awaited. They approached Loki.

“Prince Loki of Asgard,” the woman greeted him with a kind smile. “I am princess Sigyn of Alfheim.” She curtsied politely, a gesture Loki was unused to seeing from royalty. “I send regards from my father, King Frèyr. He is preoccupied at the moment and has sent me to bring you back to the castle.”

Loki bowed. “I wasn’t aware of King Frèyr having a daughter,” he said, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Asgard archives are… incomplete,” she said simply. Loki had the sensitivity of not asking more questions just yet. “May I inquire about your belongings?” she asked, looking around.

“Oh, I will summon them at the palace. I didn’t want to be carrying around everything.”

Sigyn looked slightly impressed. “My father spoke highly of your magic, I suppose he wasn’t bluffing.”

She made a gesture to the royal guard, and he got the horses ready.

“The ride through the forest is short, and leads right to the palace,” she said, signaling Loki to follow her. “We’ll get there in time for lunch. After that, my father has left a present for you in your chambers.”

“A present?” Loki asked, surprised.

“We are celebrating the Equinox this evening,” Sigyn informed him. “We know it’s not something you celebrate on Asgard, so Father wanted to make sure you had the proper attire.”

Loki was grateful for the gesture. Coming here was already more than he had ever expected, and being received so warmly by the King and his daughter was almost overwhelming.

They rode together, making small talk along the way. Loki asked her many questions about life in the palace and the Equinox festival. She explained how the change of season was important to the elves. The start of the cold season was the start of a new cycle of life. The trees would lose their green leaves, the fields would be harvested for the last time before the snow, the fish on the lakes would be mature enough to catch. It was a celebration of nature giving her last gifts to the land before she went to sleep.

“It was my mother’s favorite celebration, according to Father,” Sigyn finished with a warm smile.

“Was?” Loki asked cautiously.

“My mother passed when I was very little.” Sigyn explained. “I don’t remember much of her. I only know what Father tells me.”

“I am sorry.” Loki said.

“Don’t be.” Sigyn smiled again. “Queen Iwaldis of Alfheim was loved by everyone, and she is remembered fondly by my father and her people. After she passed, Father made sure I would never feel like something was missing.”

“Must be nice to have a loving father.” Loki said, lowering his gaze. Sigyn stared curiously.

“Your father doesn’t approve of magic, does he?” she guessed. “Well, he does look like someone who will rather punch a rock and break both hands in the process to prove a point, than be willing to just vanish it.” She rolled her eyes. Loki couldn’t help but snort with laughter, and Sigyn covered her mouth with her hand. “I am so sorry!” She looked slightly mortified, and apologized profusely. “My father always says my tongue will be my undoing.”

“It’s okay.” Loki said with a smile. “You are not wrong.”

Sigyn watched as Loki’s smile faded. She could see the sadness in his eyes.

“With Queen Frigga being of Vanir descent, one would think the Aesir would welcome more magic wielders into their life,” she offered.

“The Aesir have no problems with magic, as long as women are the ones wielding it,” Loki pointed out.

“How very backwards of them,” Sigyn muttered with disdain.

Loki knew he should be offended, but he laughed instead.

“If Father is right about you, you’ll do just fine here,” she assured him. “We have little time for brute force, mindless boasting, and big hammers.” She stressed the last word, eliciting a smirk from Loki.

The horses came to a stop, right outside a huge stone arch. Sigyn dismounted and Loki did too. The guard that had accompanied them led the horses on a lateral road toward a grand stable.

“Prince Loki of Asgard,” Sigyn said ceremoniously. “Welcome to the Palace of Alfheim.”

.-

<< Chapter 6  –  Chapter 8 >>

[dustbunny105]

Title: Five More Minutes Fandom: Transformers: More than Meets the Eye Ship: CDRW Word Count: 1166 Rating: PG13 Summary: Conjunx cuddling and xeno kisses. That’s it, that’s the fic. A/N: I’ve seen someone(s?) suggest Chromedome with a bug mouth and I think it’s a super cool idea. But I favor a more crab-like mouth for him, as I’m charmed by how neatly the parts would fold up under his faceplate. This is basically just an excuse for a) that and b) cuddle fluff. I did my best with the descriptions but if you need a visual reference, my primary inspiration was this video and I also consulted these documents. If I messed up any of the terminology, by all means, please do let me know! All that said and done, I enjoyed writing this and I hope someone out there enjoys reading it :D

ETA: Upon reflection, I’m pretty sure this was originally directly inspired by this art by @speedfreak01. So, thank you and sorry I cut back the weirdness a tad.

.

“Five more minutes,” Chromedome rumbled when Rewind his shifted his weight on his chassis, tightening one arm around him while the other hand stroked along the lines of his body.

“Just five?” Rewind asked, light with amusement. Not that he had planned on getting up anyway, but they’d been taking it in turns to say that since coming out of recharge an hour previous. Rewind again went over his mental to-do list, almost as if a reset button had been pressed, and still found nothing more important to do than cuddle with his conjunx.

He wriggled and tucked himself further under Chromedome’s arm, as had been his intention in the first place, giving his fingers more room to run across Chromedome’s chest over his spark chamber. The plating there rippled and flared under his touch; he walked his fingertips along the seams and skipped across the gaps, balancing on the edge of chaste. He chirred, pleased by the rumbling purr of Chromedome’s engine buzzing through his plating. It was almost but not quite enough to hide the scritching, clicking sound of a Chromedome-style smile hidden away beneath his ever-present faceplate.

Humming, optics still offline, Rewind traced a familiar path up Chromedome’s chest. Those gaps where the plating flared called out to him, invitations writ large by open air over sensitive components, and he was tempted to accept-- if only his fingers didn’t have somewhere to be. He took enough time out of his journey to stroke along the edges, to caress a wire or two, leaving a trail of promises in his wake.

Still, he remained steady on his way, following the sounds of that too-rare smile. He double-checked his camera settings as he tapped twice at Chromedome’s faceplate. Chromedome hesitated, as was his wont, and Rewind trilled a soothing note. He stroked the familiar seams and was gratified after a moment to feel them part to bare Chromedome’s mouthparts to the world.

Or, rather, just to Rewind.

Murmuring his appreciation, Rewind wiggled his fingertips in the scant space of the empty air, relishing it, before he stroked along the seams of Chromedome’s outermost maxillipeds; at rest, they were almost a second faceplate. The smile he’d come after had been hidden away by shyness, but Rewind searched it out by touch and drew it back to the open among a mass of shivers. He purred at the feeling of the slender flagella fluttering.

Even better was when all three sets of maxillipeds folded open, creaking from underuse as they stretched up around Rewind’s fingers. The thought of waiting until he reviewed his footage later to see this was suddenly the most unpleasant he could think of; he brought his optics online and focused just in time to watch the maxillipeds come to the apex of their stretch. The flagella were still shivering, looking almost delicate as they stretched away from the flat, wide expanse of the rest of the structure. The more segmented inner sets wiggled like the legs of some strange insect. Rewind hummed, awed by the sight as ever, as he watched them all fold back down, one set after the other, all stroking over his knuckles as they did.

Chromedome trailed a hand up and rested it lightly at the crook of Rewind’s elbow. At the same time, the external maxillipeds settled down over Rewind’s fingers like another embrace. It wasn’t nearly enough to hold him down but more than enough to hold him in place.

He shivered at the sensations, still so rare, but there was hardly any time to relish them before he was giggling, curling tighter into Chromedome’s side but careful that his hand away kept steady. The two inner sets of maxillipeds tickled his fingers with kisses. The fine rows of spines that lined them were mostly flattened down but still rippled, catching in his seams and tugging him deeper. His fingertips brushed the deeply set maxillae, more mesh than solid metal plating, and he outright snorted into Chromedome’s shoulder.

“Domey, hey,” he said, unable to sound even playfully stern. He flashed his visor up at Chromedome and triple-checked his camera at the look of him-- mischief and affection lighting up a visor too often dull and dour; mouthparts almost never exposed even to him, even in private, clamped shivering around his fingers.

“Yes, what?” Chromedome asked. The words took on an almost muffled quality with Rewind’s fingers there to distort their vibrations through the complex mouthparts. Or maybe it had more to do with the static that Chromedome was trying to hide.

Rewind shimmied out from under Chromedome’s arm and up his body, hand still a willing prisoner, to nuzzle at his neck and then up to his cheek in his own version of a kiss. He said, “You know what,” right where he knew the vibrations would hit a rarely-touched seam just right.

Sure enough, Chromedome gasped, every segment of his mouth twitching. Rewind wiggled his fingers, pressed lightly. The palps of Chromedome’s deep-hidden mandibles jumped under his touch. The spines there didn’t flatten out, like the others could, instead drawing shallow scratches into his plating. Chromedome gasped again, his grip on Rewind’s elbow and side tightening even as his mandibles parted, less an invitation than a suggestion.

It was a suggestion Rewind considered carefully and then set aside for further consideration at a later time. He knew exactly how he could turn up the heat in Chromedome’s field and he knew his own would meet it before long. But he was comfortable, too, with the warmth between and around them, and he could read Chromedome well enough to be sure he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Trilling, Rewind backtracked his fingers from the depths of Chromedome’s mouth, caressing this and that segment as he went, sometimes doubling back when he didn’t recognize this or that bend well enough. Chromedome kissed his fingers goodbye at every turn, sometimes catching them in place to flutter the rows of spines against them. His engine gave a short rev in response to every hiccup of laughter it earned him.

Once they’d parted, Chromedome’s maxillipeds flattened down like a door closing-- but he didn’t close his faceplate, not yet. Rewind showed his appreciation by caressing the maxillipeds, a thin coat of oral lubricant making the contact slick, and by continuing to nuzzle across the expanse. Chromedome’s flagella fluttered as he nuzzled back, a smile and a kiss all in one.

He wrapped both arms around Rewind, shifting him a bit, and pressed those smiling kisses down his neck to his shoulder and up again, slow and steady. He rested his forehead up against Rewind’s and then sighed, turning to glance at their new wall clock, a gift foisted upon them by Whirl, and then back.

Right, it was Rewind’s turn. Humming, he dutifully thought over his to-do list-- and Chromedome’s as far as he knew it, for good measure-- before snuggling down, nuzzling again against those still-exposed maxillipeds and declaring, “Five more minutes.”

[readingalcove]

31 Day Horror House, Day 29

   Day 29: The Head of the Household.

A shadow moved through the barely open door, sliding onto the wall, then back to the door, centered between Perrine and Boniface. There was a slight buzzing sound as the shadow leaned forward, then, with a slight ripping noise, advanced from the door, three dimensional with sharp edges and a dark center.

Mister Rishel stood and quickly crossed the room to pull out the chair at the end opposite yours, and the shadow sat, becoming flat once again with the chair covering her back.

"I see our guest is already seated," she said, her voice clear and alto.

No one spoke, and you swallowed.

"I'm afraid I've made dinner late, so eat, everyone. I will explain everything once we are full."

The sounds of scraping cutlery filled the room as everyone began to serve themselves.

You heard a chirring noise beside you, and saw that Letitia had just began to eat, crooning to herself as she went. Looking up, you saw that across the room, the gargoyles were tearing into their meat, using a paw to hold it down while they tore strips off with their sharp teeth.

Everyone at the actual table had better table manners, but you were the last one without anything on your plate.

Rishel, who had returned to his seat, leaned forward, indicating several dishes that you could safely eat from, none of which contained mould this time.

Although some conversation had picked back up, you ate in silence. You had skipped lunch in order to make your drive, and you had only grown hungrier since arriving at the manor. As much as speaking to Nesch or Peb or someone would be a better distraction from the shadow at the head of the table sitting there, not eating, just watching you, having a full stomach felt even more essential to getting through the night.

Too soon the terrines on the table were emptied, and the clatter of forks and knives died down in favour of chatter. With Rishel's help, Forsyth cleared the table and served coffee and tea, with small, square servings of cake.

The master of the house cleared her throat, and just as when the door had opened, all fell silent.

"It's time I introduced myself to our guest," she announced, then looked directly at you. You could not see her eyes, yet you felt intense eye contact coming off the shadow which, leaning forward, was again filled out and rounded.

"My name is-" she made a noise like dry autumn leaves scattering in the wind.

Just as you could feel her eye contact, you could feel her satisfaction at leaving you uncomfortable and unable to repeat it.

"You may call me Shade. It's easy enough to remember," she said, gesturing at her form with one dark hand.

"Pleased to meet you," you said in a measured tone.

"Oh, and you're polite. How excellent. For the most part we are a polite house," she said, eyes lingering on the empty seat beside Cynthia with distaste. "It will help you fit in."

"With all due respect," though you weren't sure how much that was, "I'm planning to leave in the morning. Pebble says my car will be ready to go, and I have work in the evening."

"Of course you are!" she exclaimed, then laughed. A few others laughed along, and more didn't meet your eyes. Cynthia and Benny smiled encouragingly, and the children, who had turned toward you, studied your face.

You swallowed the last bite of your cake, then gulped at your tea, scalding the back of your tongue.

"It's been a long night," you said, too loudly. "May I excuse myself to bed?"

Although you could not make out a face on Shade, whether she was shadowed against the chair or leaning forward and somewhat tangible, in your mind she had an over-wide grin, laughing at you.

"Certainly dear. Rishel, are you finished? Please escort our guest to bed."

"Of course. Come along."

You followed him, staying close behind even though you felt pretty secure in this singular hallway, having traversed it an amount of times already.

He opened the door for you, and gestured for you to enter.

Apparently he did not miss your wary glance toward the bathroom, as he told you it had been dealt with.

"All the toiletries you need should be on the counter, and there are extra towels in the cupboard. There is a night shirt, dressing gown, slippers, and your shirt from earlier- it's clean now- on the left side of the wardrobe. If you want anything washed, there is a laundry chute in the washroom and your clothes will be dry by morning. I suggest you close the deadbolt, it helps keep pests out."

He traipsed into the room and pulled up the corner of the decorative overlarge quilt, showing you that there was no space under the bed.

"It helps keep anyon- anything from getting lost under there. Last-" he said, heading back to the door, "there is a courtesy lock on the door."

You nodded, unsure whether you wanted to rush him to leave or to stay with you as long as possible to make sure the lock held.

"It will keep most of the house out, only-" he made a noise that had to be Shade's name, though in his voice it sounded more like the crackling of a bonfire- "and I have copies of the key. Yours is on the nightstand."

"I'm not planning to leave here tonight, nor come back here again after I get dressed in the morning," you repeated, though it was beginning to feel futile.

"You don't plan to. Goodnight. If you have any more questions, I'm sure they will be answered by morning."

You really hoped he meant 'in the morning,' but doubted it.

Mister Rishel closed the door behind himself, and you turned the lock behind him, then surveyed the room once more.

The one thing it really had going for it was that it was well lit. It was also quite fancy and befitting of the enormous house and so on, but that interested you much less as far as making it through the night.

You approached the wardrobe holding your breath, and were relieved to find nothing out of the ordinary inside. It wasn't empty, but even after you removed the three garments and your slippers, it looked still and mundane. Closing the door, you made your way back to the en suite.

To your relief, the curtain around the bathtub was wide open, as was the matching one on a separate shower, and nothing lurked in either chamber. The tub smelled faintly like Dr. Quoll's office, though for all the sterility that brought to mind, you did not plan to set foot in it. The only other place for anything to hide, other than the laundry hatch, which you noted was already deadbolted shut, was the cabinet, and when you opened it, just to be sure, you found it bursting with linens.

Approaching the sink, also happy to find there was only one bathroom mirror, and knowing that so far, it hadn't reflected anything terrible, you washed your hands, then picked up the toothbrush. The paste next to it was your usual brand, but the brush felt fancy. You had never made a point of buying fancy nor particularly bad toothbrushes before, but something about it gave you that impression.

Also on the counter were a couple different brushes and combs, a closed glass container of cotton pads and swabs, a heavy bottomed cup, and a folded face cloth.

Eager to wash away at least some of the day's grime, you shook it free, then found yourself gaping, toothbrush dropped into the sink.

It was monogrammed with your initials.

You spat out the toothpaste and dug through the cupboard. Everything was monogrammed, even the house coat you had tossed on the bed minutes ago.

At first you sank to the ground, massaging your temples and around your eyes, groaning, but it didn't take long before you got back up, properly rinsed your mouth, and got a towel.

Fuck it all, whatever was going on, you were taking a shower and going to bed.

The illustrious head of the household appears. I can’t believe how fast halloween is sneaking up on me.

Challenge First | Previous | Next Read On AO3

[underdrag]

Original Story! Life of the Organization Chapter 3!

Listen. Before you read this, just know this: I want to change the way all the chapters are written at some point, but for now I just write down the main idea and plot of the chapters. I’ve had too much trouble with writing these, and it’s taking a while to write them. Yes, there will be cringy bits. Yes, it sounds rushed near the end. So, I will say sorry for that. I at least hope you will enjoy this, whoever reads it.

Chapter 3

Rendan’s Past

    I twirled my crystal on my fingertip. Everyone had gone back to the base already. I was completely, utterly alone in my house. Which I was used to. Everyone’s normally too busy to come talk. And even if they have the time, they spend it trying to catch me off guard and ‘kill’ me. But to be honest, I really needed to be alone. Today is the anniversary of... I can’t even finish the thought without starting to tear up. I’ve made it a tradition to re-watch the memory every year, so I won’t ever forget what I’ve done.     I flipped the crystal up into the air and muttered, “ Bako”. The crystal lit up, floating in the air in front of me and breaking apart into several pieces. Through some select words I managed to turn the separate parts into small dragons. The dragons flew over and settled on my ears, chirring as they tested their speech capabilities. As they did so, I selected a file from my memories and settled down for the ride. With one word, I was thrown into my memories.       “ Krikon. (Play.)”

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

- May 5, 1897 -

    “ Hey! Wake up already, ya log!”     I opened my eyes to the grinning face of my best friend, his bright, curious blue eyes unbefitting of his ragged appearance.     “ Go away, Aiden. I wanna sleep…” I rolled over and closed my eyes, trying to go back to sleep. Suddenly there is a foot in my back.     “ Agh! Aiden, whyyy?!” I squirmed under my blanket, trying to somehow kick him.     “ Hehehe, get up sleepy head! Today is the day we all get to meet this ‘mysterious man’ that your mom fell in love with! You don’t want to miss it, do ya?”     My eyes snapped open and I quickly sat up, immediately regretting the decision as my head collided with his jaw.     “ Owww! Why were you leaning over me?!” I cradled my head, shivering in pain.     “ I didn’t think you’d do that!” He cringed, trying to blink back tears as he curled up on my legs.     “ Oooh! Hey guys, Ally and Aiden are at it again!” A short, frail blonde 5-year-old poked his head out of a hole under a house, grinning playfully at them. Several more kids started popping up, out from behind fences and piles of dirt. They oohed and aahed at the two, poking fun at them. “ Aiden and Alyssa, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” They burst into giggles, some falling off their piles of dirt.     “ H-Hey! You all shut up!” Aiden blushed, quickly sitting up and flailing at them. I giggled, getting out of my ‘bed’. I neatly rolled the blanket up and stuffed it in the hole under the house. I skipped towards the end of the alley, beaming.     “ Come on, Aiden! Let’s go!”     “ Wai- but I was the one- Aagh wait up Alyssa!” Aiden scrambled to his feet, tossed a rock at one of the kids, then chased after me. I slowed down for him, not wanting to be alone in the rough streets.     Ah, I guess I should give some sort of explanation. My name is Alyssa Riveran, and I am the successor to the throne of the Chrymbalian kingdom. Of course, you wouldn’t know where that is. We live underground, beneath a place called ‘England’. Personally I’ve never seen the surface, but I imagine it to be just as beautiful as Chrymbali! I have heard those funny people from the surface talking to mum, and I just loved their voices! I guess I loved it so much I kind of adopted the sounds. Chrymbali is a kingdom full of peace. We have no rules or anything, and people choose what they want to do. Since the towns are made out of minerals and gems, we really don’t need to use any kind of currency. Sadly still, this kingdom does have orphans and hoboes. I, myself, am one of them. Not a true orphan, of course, since I am a princess. See, my mum was afraid for me when I was born, because our kingdom is wanted for its wealth. So, she scoured the city for someone to take me in. That was the time when she came across a group of orphans. She gave me to them in exchange for giving them food every day. I soon got used to it, and became great friends with everyone. Though, one I became very close friends with. Aiden has been by my side since the day I was brought to the group. We go everywhere together, do everything together. I don’t mind that he’s always dirty, or that he barely has any clothes. I just love his big heart, so full of caring for other beings. I-I guess you could say that he… He was my first love. Ah, I’m getting off track! Every so often, I have to go visit the castle and visit mum. Of course I bring Aiden with me, why would I not? Anyway, during the time I spend there, I get lessons in many things, like music, where I play my flute, English, Math, Art, History, Politics, and all kinds of other things. Sometimes it’s just too much to handle! Ah, we’re nearing the castle. I should get back to the story.     “ Ah! Alyssa, there’s a crowd in front of the castle!” Aiden pointed. “ He must be here already!”     “ Ooh, I wonder what he’s like! I heard he’s got a kid with him! Maybe we can meet him, too!” I jogged to the crowd, trying to push my way through. I was the one pushed around instead, though. I yelped as I was shoved out of the crowd onto the ground. “ Owww…” I rubbed my head and looked up. There he stood in front of me, with a young boy next to him.     The first thing I noticed about him was his eyes. They were cold, lifeless, an icy blue that chilled my blood. The second thing I noticed about him was that he was wearing a black lab coat that had red trimmings. The red seemed to be darker in some areas, as if stained. The last thing I noticed was the boy. The boy looked terrified, and kept his head down. I realized in that one second that this man was not to be trusted.     I blinked, and everything changed. The man smiled down at me, bending down and extending his hand. I refused to take it and stood up, the pit gnawing at my stomach growing larger by the second.     “ What’s wrong, child? You look scared. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” The man stood back up, sighing. I took a step back, my eyes as wide as can be. I turned and ran, not stopping even for Aiden’s cry of protest. I didn’t stop until I was back in the alley, where I curled up under the house with my blanket.     Aiden didn’t come back for me until later in the day. Apparently he spent the time hanging out with the kid. At least when he got back he seemed concerned for me. I didn’t mean to sulk the entire time, but I kinda ended up doing just so. Hopefully I can make it up to him later.

- August 17, 1897 -

    It’s a gloomy day.     It’s been 3 months since mum was married to that wretched man. The kid isn’t that bad though. His name is Percival, but he prefers to be called Percy. I couldn’t get him to tell me anything about the man, but he is still a great help in getting info.     I try to act normal around the other kids, to laugh and joke. I’ve tried to keep a smile on my face, to not worry the other kids, but it’s getting harder each day. I just can’t help worrying about mum. The man acts nice all the time, but I know he’s hiding something. For the first time in my life, there is pressure. Is this what Aiden feels every day? How does he stand it? Well, I guess if he can put up with it, so can I.     Still, though, I’ve been wondering about whether or not I should ask him to help me. I mean, I’m afraid to get him involved, and to have him hurt in my place. But, he’s my best friend… Just what do I do?

- August 18, 1897 -

    I wake up to the sound of snoring. I glance over at Aiden, who is sleeping on an old mattress. I try to be as quiet as I can and get up, folding my blanket and setting it next to him. I take one last look at his face. His curly black hair glistened with grease in the morning light. His nose turned up ever so slightly at the end, and tiny freckles dotted his round cheeks. I was a little sad not to be able to see his stunning eyes, but I shook away the thought. I mean, it’s not like I won’t ever see him again, right?     I just kept telling myself that as I snuck through the sleeping town to the castle. I tried not to think about what will happen. Really, it was too terrifying to think about.     I stared up at the castle. No one was awake yet. Good. I lowered my head and entered the castle, making a beeline to my mum’s chambers.     I stopped outside her door. It was eerily silent. I took a deep breath, and opened the door, sticking my head in. “ Mum, I need to tell-!”     I watched as the man drove a knife through my mum’s chest. I froze, petrified as he turned to face me. He started slowly walking towards me. I was like a deer in headlights, paralyzed from fear. Before I knew it, he was in front of me and tying me up. I didn’t even try to struggle. I knew I couldn’t do anything against him. I stayed limp as he tossed me over his shoulder and headed to the castle basement. As I watched us get further away from mum’s body, all I could think about was, ‘What am I supposed to do without mum?’.

February 9, 1898 -

    It’s been so long.     I’ve been in this lab for so long.     There’s no way to count the days. No end to the pain. Every day, I get beaten up. That man, whose name I recently learned, puts us in a small cage and makes us fight. Yeah, I said us. There’s me, Percy, and my sister Calyssa. I… never mentioned Calyssa before, did I? She’s my twin sister. She was kept in the castle as a decoy. Mum knew I was the better sibling. Calyssa is the complete opposite of me. She has pitch black hair, brown eyes, and a fiery temper.     Anyway, the three of us were kept down in the basement of the castle for a long time. I know not what is happening on the surface, but certainly the people are upset. I wonder how Aiden is doing… and the others…     I look up as Percy passes by my small cage. He is being led by Koga, his father. He’s bruised and bloody, and in rags. Seeing him like this has become normal for me. So I didn’t think anything when Koga took me out as well and led us down the hallway. He shoved us into a larger cage than usual, and locked us in. Unlike the other times, there was a single knife in the center of the cage. We looked up at Koga, confused. He confirmed what we were both thinking.     “ Neither of you will leave this cage until one of you is dead.”

- February 13, 1898 -

    It’s been four days in the big cage with Percy.     Neither one of us have touched the knife. But right now, we’re both starving and thirsty. Koga hasn’t brought us anything, only coming in to check on us. We’re both struggling to stay alive.     Percy thinks I should be the one to survive. I keep telling him that there’s no way I’ll ever do that. I think that right now, he’s contemplating just stabbing himself. I might have to keep him from the knife.     Right as I was thinking that, he made a lunge for the knife. I quickly picked it up and tried to run away from him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hug. I quickly felt warm, thick liquid running down my belly, and I realized what happened. He had impaled himself on the knife that I was trying to hide.     I started crying. I couldn’t help it. He tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t stop crying. Eventually he gave up and just let me hug him until he died. Koga came in a few moments later, overjoyed. I was led back to my cage in a haze, where there was food and water. But I didn’t eat any of it. I couldn’t. Not after I just killed Percy. I don’t remember much of the rest of that day, or many months afterwards, either.

- November 23, 1898 -

    It hurts so much.     Whatever Koga injected into me hurts so much.     I can hardly think.     I want it to stop. It won’t stop. I don’t think it’ll ever stop.     I’m bleeding so much.     Am I going to die?

- July 2, 1899 6:23 am-

    I… I’m alive.     I open my eyes to a bright light. The stench of blood is everywhere. My back hurts. My butt hurts. My everything hurts. But I’m alive.     I don’t want to be. The corpse of my sister is lying next to me. Koga killed her to use her blood as a blood transfusion for me. I feel… different. Wrong. Like I’m not myself.     I try to get up off the table. The chains around my wrists break easily. I stare brokenly at them as they clatter on the ground. Was I always this strong?     I scoot off the table and nearly crumpled to the ground. I gripped the table, the metal bending under my fingers. I stare at the sight, trying to breathe evenly and fight off the groggy feeling that I have. I manage to stand on my shaky legs  and head for the door. No one stops me as I walk down the halls in a daze, my legs stiff. Koga is nowhere to be found.     I make my way to the door to the staircase leading back up to the castle. I struggle to keep my eyes open as I ascend, slowly, step by agonizing step. Something slaps my foot and I freeze. It happens again. I look behind me. And I inhale sharply.     I have a tail. And wings. I stare uncertainly at them. That explains why it hurt so much there. When I think about moving it, the tail twitches and swings limply back and forth. I eventually give up on controlling it and climb the last few steps to the top.     I slowly open the door. The loud creaking noise echoes throughout the wide hall that I step out into. Normally there would be guards everywhere. There is no one there today. I trod through the castle, making my way to the front gate. I stop just before leaving, feeling sick. What would the people think if their princess was a monster? What would the other orphans think? What would Aiden think of me now? I turn and head the other way, rethinking going out. Instead I just wander through the castle.     I stop in front of my mum’s door. I hesitate, scared to know what’s inside. I slowly push open the door and peek in. The smell of blood is so overwhelming that I flinch back. I realized suddenly how strong my nose was. Holding my nose, I looked back in. And immediately wished I didn’t.     Every last guard lay dead on the floor. Some decapitated, others stabbed and bleeding fresh blood on the floor. I slam the door shut, running away from the room. I zoom through the castle, a lot faster than I should be. I didn’t notice.     I came to a stop in front of Calyssa’s room. I stare up at the door, debating whether or not to go inside. I finally decide to open the door. I smelled nothing wrong, so I stepped inside. The room was normal, just as I remembered. I breathed a sigh of relief, and looked up at the clock in the corner of the room. 8 am. I made my way over to the bed, the sleepiness starting to overwhelm me. I could swear I heard something shouting at me, egging me on. But I didn’t care. I was asleep by the time I rolled onto the bed.

- July 2, 1899 11:47 pm-

    I’m jolted awake by something. The first thing that hit me was that the smell of blood, death, and fire was all around me. The second thing was that something was around my neck. The last thing was that something heavy was on my arm, and warm liquid was dripping down my arm. I flutter my eyes, my sight coming back. I freeze as I realize what’s on my arm.     It’s Aiden. Impaled through the stomach. His blood dripping down and staining my already blood stained rags. He blinks, lowering his hand. He smiles up at me and croaks out words. “ That’s… good… you’re back… to normal…” He chuckled lightly, the action seeming to cause him pain. I was afraid to move, afraid to break him. He looked at me with blurry, unfocused eyes. “ It’s… over now… isn’t it…? You… don’t need to… be afraid…”     I looked at him, horrified. “ No… no it’s not… Aiden, no… what did I do…?! What have I done?!”     He reached up again, placing a hand on my cheek. “ It’s… alright… Ally…” I started crying, watching as his breaths became more laboured.     “ No… it’s not alright… Aiden, you’re… you’re…” He stroked my cheek with his thumb, staring at me.     “ Ally… your hair… it’s not… my favorite… color… anymore…” I closed my eyes, scared to watch.     “ That… it doesn’t matter… Aiden, don’t die! I… I love you… so much… I don’t want to lose you…” He smiled sadly, and I opened my eyes.     “ I… love you too… Alyssa…” I held my breath as he took his last.     I sat there for a good 10 minutes, crying over him. Eventually I gently laid his body down and stood up to take a look around. Everything was on fire. I was sitting on the bodies of all my friends. I gagged, retching on the side of a building. My vomit sizzled through the wall, burning it like acid. Through the new hole in the wall, I saw the old miner man that gave us treats from time to time. Er, well his head. On the table, arranged with the fruits. I threw up again, mostly dry heaving. The smell of everything was overbearing. The giant cave was beginning to fill with smoke. I glanced back at my friends and Aiden. Then I turned. And ran.     I don’t know where I wanted to go. I didn’t know where to go. But I knew I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t bear to watch them all burn.     As I ran, I stopped at a giant morphite crystal. It was the pride of the kingdom. I stared at it for a second. I wished I could take it with me. Just as I thought that, a giant glass bubble surrounded the crystal, then shattered, making the crystal disappear. I blinked numbly, a little surprised. My eyes focused on what was behind the missing crystal, and saw Percy standing a ways away, shocked at my appearance.     He ran to my side and grabbed my hand. “ A-Alyssa…! You’re alright! I… god, I thought you had died in there as well! We have to run. Koga is looking for us.” I just stared up at him. I watched his expression falter. “ Er… Alyssa? What’s… what’s wrong?” I started crying again, hugging him. He froze, not expecting the hug, and cautiously wrapped his arms around me. “ Is this… Are you surprised I’m alive…?” I nodded into his chest, and he let out a shaky breath. “ I’m, uhm. I’m still dead, but… I’m an angel now? Koga called me a… a ‘Dharc Angel’.”     I looked up at him, feeling extremely guilty. “ … Aiden… Aiden’s dead… I  think  I  killed  everyone…”     Percy didn’t look too surprised as he looked around. “ You were a little worse than Koga thought… He knew you’d want to kill, but this was… a bit much.”     I glared up at him, suspicious now. “ … What did you say?”     Percy laughed a little at my expression and tried to change the subject. “ We uh. We need to run now? Koga is looking for us?”     I realized what he said this time, and nodded slowly. “ Yeah… Let’s go…”     We ran together for the only exit to the surface. We came out of the cave into a big forest. It was pitch black outside. Percy led me down an invisible trail, and soon we came out of the forest and into a town. I stopped Percy by tugging on his arm.     “ Wait. I think we’ve gone far enough.”     Percy shook his head, a little frantic. “ No. We have to cross the ocean. We have to get to the harbor.”     I had only heard of the ocean in books, but I did know that we needed a boat. “ How? We have no money!”     He glanced at me before leading me between the buildings. “ You have wings, remember? I have wings too.”     I was appalled at his idea. “ I can’t even move my wings, let alone fly!”     He stopped and glared at me. “ Well, you’re gonna have to learn quickly.”

-July 14, 1899-

    We finally touch down on land. On the flight over the ocean, we got shot at several times by boats. Percy and I have gotten very adept at using our wings. Yet, he always looks anxious. I don’t know why he’s been acting like that, but he kept insisting that I go fly ahead while he talks to the people on the ships. He always comes back soaking wet, and smelling of fish. He always has the same excuse, “ They made me jump in the water”. I never believed him, but I also couldn’t think of why he was wet at that time. So I just went along with it.     Anyway, after we touched down, Percy turned to me. “ Alyssa… You should be safe here. There’s lots of trees, and lots of things to eat. You can live here.”     I stared at him, the weirdness of his words stabbing me in the gut like a knife. “ Percy… what are you saying? We’re in this together… aren’t we?” He looked away, and I reached out to hug him but thought better of it and let my hand drop to my side. “ Where… where else would you go? He’s looking for us, Percy. I don’t want to lose you again!”     Percy winced at my words, looking back at me with a guilty face. “ I… I have to go back. To him.”     I gaped at him, incredulous. “ You… why? Why go back to that murderer?!”     Percy looked to straighten up a little, being brave. “ That murderer is also my father, remember? I can’t just… leave him alone. And I’m also… afraid of what I might do to you if I’m alone with you…”     I took a step back at his words, trying to process them. “ What… you might do to me…?”     He looked away, his gaze settling on the ground. “ … I murdered the guards, Alyssa. The people in the boats too. I can’t control myself… Their voices are so loud…” I stared blankly at him, not comprehending what he said. He glanced up and winced at my expression, then continued speaking. “ Koga… My father, he knows of a way to help me with my… ‘problem’, he said. So I have to go.” I started tearing up, and he gained a frantic look. “ But hey! You’ll be alright! I won’t tell Koga where you are, so you can be safe! I have to go, before he comes after us and finds where you are.” He chuckled nervously, flaring his inky black wings and stepping back.     I glared at him now, tears streaming down my face. “ … Just go. Leave already.” He swallowed hard and took off, flying quickly out of sight.     When I couldn’t see him anymore, I fell to my knees and sobbed. I stayed like that for a long time, then I headed off into the forest to hide. After a while of running uphill, I found a beautiful clearing. In an aspen tree grove, with a little stream flowing through it. It was-

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

    I jolted awake, in cold sweat and hard of breath. I sat up slowly, the darkness seeming to amplify the chill in my veins and creep into my head. I shuffled around in the dark to see why I had been thrown out of my memories, and I picked up the tail of the dragon. I guess I crushed it when I rolled over or something? I took the other dragon off my ear and set it with the other one, standing up. I needed to get out. And so I ran out of the house into my aspen grove. The leaves around me rustled as I ran, and I could hear and feel the grass and rocks beneath me moving and brushing against each other. It helped to calm me down. Yet, I still wasn’t free of the panic and feeling of death. So I ran out of the clearing, into the forest.     I swerved gracefully between the trees, not being able to see a thing but knowing the path by heart. Eventually I came to a road next to a cliff. Cars whizzed past, stirring and polluting the air. The smell of them alone made me sick. In the small interval between cars I dashed across the two-lane road and stopped at the edge of the cliff. I thought for a moment, about what to do, where to go. It took a minute for an idea to pop into my head. Why not go see Silas?

[zachwinthrop]

@alexandraburton-x

        the epicurean suite had been abrogated, leaving the culpable sovereign A L O N E with her abstruse cognitions. she posed on the edge of a porcelain bathtub, delicate crescents glittering through a steady cascade of ( s c a l d i n g ) water. she needed to cleanse the piquant traces of zachariah winthrop from her defiled tenement. his scent had wreathed through her caramel ringlets, residual from their impetuous tryst swelling between her thighs. she was reluctant; aching to cure the memory for as long as she possibly could. their kismet course was unforeseeable. was it a sequestered episode? a simple L A P S E in rationality that would never be duplicated? in any case, she was still engrossed in an uninspiring relationship with a now despotic beau. she could leave him, a gentle break – up, or perhaps an ( i n t e r l u d e ) with time to sort through their issues. but the mere thought of being alone was abstruse.          discarded & neglected while zach engaged in a smitten game of H O U S E with faith coleman. she’d be déclassé while all of hollywood mooned over clinquant duo. the ( m i s s t r e s s ) he merely crawled into bed with. the sentiment enbowed her throat, corralling ardent rage in the crevasses of her chest. she was forced to make it work out of her own hauteur. she R E F U S E D to be substandard again. alexandra interrupted the flow of water once it had reached the fringe of the tub, her digits loosely soughing the silk material of her robe as she ventured to remove it. the door to the suite chirred softly, faltering her actions. ❝ ale, are you here? ❞ his voice vibrated between rooms as he lumbered inside. she cinched the fabric taut around her waist, briskly advancing toward the bedroom to collect the pieces of her lingerie that littered the floor. ❝ yeah, ❞ she countered, gathering the garments into her arms before furrowing them into the wardrobe.          she erected her posture, her digits smoothing S E X tussled curls, traveling the cambers of her neck to feel for contused flesh. ❝ come here, babe. i’ve missed you, ❞ he mewled in his ever so ( a p o l o g e t i c ) timbre. alex emerged from the bedroom, sun – kissed stems rollicking as they carried her to the living area. asher mounted his wiry figure against the lounge, his neck snapping at the sound of her footsteps & he groused, ❝ ale, ❞ he breathed gently as he approached, his arms twining around her minim waist. ❝ you’re so D A M N beautiful. ❞ alexandra contrived a nimble smile, her palms pressed firm against his chest to keep her distance. ❝ you’re in a good mood, ❞ she mused, careening her head as he nuzzled into silken tresses. ❝ that’s because i get to come home to a vision. ❞ he inhaled, & she could feel his face contort as he distinguished a foreign aroma. ❝ who’s wearing new perfume…❞ she urged her shoulder upward to deter him from investigating further, but he was unrelenting, melting his lips against the delicate flesh beneath her ear. ❝ asher, ❞ she miffed, irked by his persistence.

         zach hurries through opulent halls to the elevator, pulling his t - shirt over his head and burrowing his face in the discarded hoodie. the elevator dings as he reaches the floor above, and he makes his way to his room. the lavish chamber unfolded before him, all plush carpet and gold - spun thread. he laments, RELINQUISHING the bundle in his hands to the ground. the back of the room harbored a floor - to - ceiling glass door, opening onto a balcony akin to the one that had seen the ( b a r e ) soles of his feet and the plains of alex’s kinked knees. he grinned, opening the doors to swirling parisian air. a soft scent of fresh bread wafted his senses. he inspected the terrain - it was identical. ideations of alexandra affixed to alabaster brick flitted his thoughts. he emerged upon the railing and bent at the waist, imaging the scene he had fled. imagining asher gathering his heartsick vixen into his arms as though an ounce of her belonged to him. he almost snarled - he L O A T H E D that man. if it were in his power to do so, he would banish him. but he had left that ball in alex’s court, and he was waiting not - so - patiently on the day she tossed asher out and opened the doors to zach. voices lifted upon the breeze, pooling upon his balcony. he raised his eyebrows, charmed by the familiar feminine PROWL. alex.          he listened eagerly, seating himself upon the marble tiles with his back to the barrier. asher had returned, as she’d predicted. his fists coiled. he was sickening, pawing at her like a pathetic little boy. his mouth twisted into a smirk as he noted the vague dismissal braided through her timbre. that’s my girl.

[rudolphbohn]

RT https://t.co/b9OyRZiku9 Our next available new patient appointment is on Wednesday 2nd January 2019 with #chiropractor Hannah Chambers. To book please visit https://t.co/yEs90RFXeg #Chir… https://t.co/5geZD3mOqL

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RT https://t.co/b9OyRZiku9 Our next available new patient appointment is on Wednesday 2nd January 2019 with #chiropractor Hannah Chambers. To book please visit https://t.co/yEs90RFXeg #Chir… pic.twitter.com/5geZD3mOqL

— Chiropractic (@mychirocsc) December 28, 2018

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from Chiropractic Specialty Center http://chiropracticspecialtycenter.blogspot.com/2018/12/rt-httpstcob9oyrziku9-our-next.html

from Blogger http://kennethwardlow.blogspot.com/2018/12/rt-httpstcob9oyrziku9-our-next.html

from Kenneth Wardlow http://kennethwardlow.tumblr.com/post/181496292840 from Tumblr http://geraldpacheco.tumblr.com/post/181496320634

from Gerald Pacheco https://geraldpacheco.wordpress.com/2018/12/28/rt-https-t-co-b9oyrziku9-our-next-available-new-patient-appointment-is-on-wednesday-2nd-january-2019-with-chiropractor-hannah-chambers-to-book-please-visit-https-t-co-yes90rfxeg-chir-h/

from WordPress https://rudolphbohn.wordpress.com/2018/12/28/rt-https-t-co-b9oyrziku9-our-next-available-new-patient-appointment-is-on-wednesday-2nd-january-2019-with-chiropractor-hannah-chambers-to-book-please-visit-https-t-co-yes90rfxeg-chir-h/

[kennethwardlow]

RT https://t.co/b9OyRZiku9 Our next available new patient appointment is on Wednesday 2nd January 2019 with #chiropractor Hannah Chambers. To book please visit https://t.co/yEs90RFXeg #Chir… https://t.co/5geZD3mOqL

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RT https://t.co/b9OyRZiku9 Our next available new patient appointment is on Wednesday 2nd January 2019 with #chiropractor Hannah Chambers. To book please visit https://t.co/yEs90RFXeg #Chir… pic.twitter.com/5geZD3mOqL

— Chiropractic (@mychirocsc) December 28, 2018

from Twitter https://twitter.com/mychirocsc from Chiropractic Specialty Center http://chiropracticspecialtycenter.blogspot.com/2018/12/rt-httpstcob9oyrziku9-our-next.html from Blogger http://kennethwardlow.blogspot.com/2018/12/rt-httpstcob9oyrziku9-our-next.html