#i just wave my hands in the air and grow bacteria

[mysicklove]

Wait if you don't mind my asking. What are you by profession?

being a girl

i am a a barista and a microbiology lab assistant. but these are only temporary until i go to PA (physicans assistant) school 🥳🥳🥳🥳

[dira333]

Act my Age - part 7

Scotty x reader - Masterlist

You do what you do best. You work, aiming to stop thinking about anything else.

The new sample of bacteria grows exactly to your liking, and you skip lunch to check on them in fifteen-minute intervals which seems to be exactly the right thing.

You check on P-tra’s work as well in between, as she had requested, and write her a message before you start with the assignment Spock has forwarded to you: Plan the away mission to a planet you have been orbiting in order to collect data.

This is your first time and it’s exciting and frightening at the same time. The air down there is breathable for humans, there’s water, drinkable if cooked beforehand and the temperatures won’t be a problem either if no one forgets to bring a jacket, but those factors don’t include dangerous plants, carnivorous animals or other possible threats. And if you mess it up a little, it can turn into a big problem really fast.

There are three major decisions you have to make. Where to land, who is going and what do they need to take with them.

You calculate it three times.

Once according to the rulebook, one time adhering to logic and one time just to make sure, before you forward it to Spock. It’s nothing more but a recommendation, in the end, the Captain makes the decisions.

And when your PADD tells you that your message has been received, the tension leaves your shoulders and you allow yourself a moment for yourself, resting your head on your arms.

“You should take a break,” P-tra tells you from your side, “You worked through lunch, right? You should get something to eat and a moment without work.”

You want to disagree, but she’s faster.

“Commander Spock would tell you that it is illogical to put your body under the stress of hunger and overworking when the environment provides breaks at reasonable intervals.”

“You’re right,” you agree and she looks at you with wide eyes, obviously surprised that you give in so easily, “If someone asks for me, I will be back in twenty minutes.”

You order something from the replicator in the lab and step out into the hallways, searching for a spot where you can sit and eat in silence.

But then you turn left and see the female Lieutenant that had once interrupted your conversation with Commander Spock, turning away from a quick conversation with a fellow crew member, making her way towards the turbo lift.

And maybe it’s spontaneous and less than logical, but you pick up your pace and reach the lift just as she steps onto it.

“Excuse me, are you… are you Lieutenant Uhura?”

She looks at you with surprise and a bit of confusion.

“Yes?”

You sigh out in relief and step in as well.

“I have been told that you are in a relationship with Commander Spock…” Her gaze hardens and you are quick to apologize, waving your hands around but stopping when the soup from your bowl spills out onto your hands.

“I don’t want to pry into your private life, I’m seeking advice.”

“On what?”

“Love?”

She snorts and presses a button, bringing the lift to life.

“No, seriously. And as the one person who manages a relationship with a Vulcan, you might be able to help me.”

“I might be able to help you?” She repeats your words. “How?”

“You must have a thorough understanding of Commander Spock feelings if you are able to hold up a relationship with him.”

“So?”

“And as I have been told repeatedly, my behavior is very alike to that of a human.”

“And you’re in love.”

“Some would call it that.”

“And what would you call it?”

“Immense frustration,” you responded immediately and she throws back her head, laughing.

“Tell me about it.”

So you do.

When you step back onto the turbo lift half an hour later, you haven’t eaten anything at all, but you still feel a lot better.

Following the instinct to talk to Lieutenant Uhura had been right. Not only had she listened carefully, but had given you advice as well, including teaching you the basics of makeup and what to do with your hair in the morning.

Gamma shift would start in a bit more than thirty minutes.

You pulled out your comm and contacted P-tra.

“How is everything?”

“Pretty lame. You can take the rest of your lunch break as well if you want to.”

“That would be perfect. I will be back at the lab before Gamma starts anyway. Comm me if necessary.”

“Will do.”

You end the connection and turn towards one of the computers stationed in the hallways, looking for Lieutenant Cee.

“Gray?” You knock softly against the outside of the Jefferies tube he should be in. “It’s me, Y/N.”

“Y/N?” His head pops out and he looks at you, stopping himself mid-talk. “Are you wearing makeup?”

“I do,” you agree, unable to lie. He looks surprised… and a little bit taken aback.

“Can we talk?” You ask and he nods, still a bit tentatively.

“Sure, if you can climb in?” He offers you a hand that you refuse.

You lean against the wall of the tube, feet planted against the floor.

Should you cross your arms? Or will that make you look less approachable than you want to? You fold your hands in front of your hips instead and leave them there, even though your mind immediately tells you that this pose will make you look nervous - fidgeting will make it worse.

Gray checks the Panel he has been working on before turning to you.

He looks at you, licks his lips and mimics your stance.

“You didn’t put that makeup on for me, did you?”

“No,” you admit and he gives you an easy smile.

“And you’re here to tell me that you don’t want to see me again.”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, almost sheepishly, before shaking your hand, “I do want to see you again. But… as a friend… you know?”

He smiles. “I am fine with that.”

“You are?” You ask, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.

“Sure. But I feel flattered that you wanted to talk me through it.”

You can feel your cheeks burn from embarrassment. Gray chuckles.

“I am holding you back from meeting someone else, don’t you?”

You want to say something but are interrupted by someone knocking against the hatch over your heads.

“Cee? Are ye in there?”

You stiffen in shock at hearing his voice and Gray sends you a look containing equal amounts of surprise and confusion.

“Yes, I’m coming.” He answers but Mr. Scott opens the hatch from the outside and peers inside.

“Are ye finished already? I need to talk ye through somethin’ before I-” he talks, looks over to you, back to Gray and stops in the middle of his sentence to look back at you. He seems to be at a loss of words and you only hope it’s a positive reaction.

“We had to discuss a few things,” Gray offers an explanation and you nod.

“I should get back to the Labs anyway…” you try to get a way out, but Mr. Scott does not move from his place. “Ehm, can you let me out?”

“Ach, of course, of course!” He stretches out his hand to pull you up and out of the tube and you give in and let him help, your face hot from embarrassment the whole time.

His hand is warm on your skin, his grip firm and steady. He lets go of you way too soon.

You walk away stiffly, your blood pulsing so loud in your ears you can’t hear the two talking behind you.

But the footsteps, you can hear them.

You turn around on instinct, surprised to find Mr. Scott catching up to you.

“Did you forget something?”

You feel so self-conscious with his gaze traveling over your face, making you aware of the color on your lips and the mascara weighing down your lashes.

He looks positively lost for words for a moment and you cocking your head to your side in question seems to be no help at all.

“Mr. Scott?” You stretch out your hand and put it on his elbow and you can’t say what brings him to his senses, your voice or your touch.

“Still go’ a lesson planned, right Lass?” He asks with a smile that does not quite reach his eyes.

“Oh, sure, yes.” You try to act like you haven’t looked forward to his lesson as much as you actually do and cringe at the result. You sound surprised as if you’ve completely forgotten it. Way to go…

The smile leaves his lips.

“Ye donnae have time?” He asks and you might be a fool, but he sounds almost dissapointed.

You throw yourself into a flood of words, assuring him you have.

[irrfahrer]

Ziv turned her head and noticed with a content even admiring rise of one of her furred eyebrows, that her visitor had indeed not touched any of her plants. The ranks behind Rhys seemed to be suprised about this too, because they reached out with small branches to fumble over his shoulder and arm, as if they were the hands of a stranger tapping someone on the shoulder to ask for the way. “I do not know any Miss around here beside the plants who would rather eat you than listen to be called miss, and also its definitive not myself, so just Odiz’Zee or Ziv is kriffing enough.” she walked over to Rhys and , a small piece of meat in her paw, waved away the ranks as if she was waving away a annoying little dog, before she threw the piece of meat in the air and the ranks grasped for it and pulled it between the ranks until it was swallowed by the green: “Hush, leave the guy alone.”

“Ah, Strongfork. Kriffing goodness Gracious of Kriffs, what have I done to get visits from the oh so kriffing High Guy? Did I made a mistake in my request for higher funds?”, she stopped, blinked, and then pinned her fluy ears back thoughtfully: “...did I actually? I am pretty sure the day I sended the request was the day when I got bitten by one of the testflora and my paws were swollen to thrice their size, so I am pretty sure I made some typing mistakes. But what-kriffing-ever-”, the Tynnan took a sniff from the air around the man, checking if she could smell any adrenaline sticking to his sweat that could tell her if the other was in any way angry or annoyed which could fall back on her, before she nodded quietly to herself: “Well, as you can see, things are green and growing. As plants usually kriffing do. Any other questions?” ‘Growing’ was an exaggeration when one was only looking with the eyes: The biodome had been freshly build and the different plantbeds around the hydroponic pools were covered with a soft fuzz of greens and greys that were indeed growing, but not yet into heights and sizes that would be impressive for the eyes in the slightest. Ziv was however a Tynnan and Tynnans had naturally a very bad eyesight, so she did relied more on her sense of smell - this sense of smell was telling her perfectly about the chemicals, bacteria and pollen hanging so thickly in the air it felt for her more as if she was drinking the air in the dome instead of breathing and  for her this was showing the bustling work of growth and chemical reactions happening beneath the soft layer of greens and greys in the soil and up in the heavy, warm air. Yet for the eye the only thing yet growing perfectly were the always moving ranks crawling along the floor and walls in search for more food and which now, after the small piece of meat had been dissolved, started to fumble around Zivs and Rhys ankles like a small pet asking for more treats.

[ @strongfuck​ ]

@irrfahrer​:

“If I were you, I wouldn´t go any kriffing inch closer to the ranks, because they are really moody and-”, The Tynnans pale ears had turned back, keeping track on the visitor while she watered the pods with lichen she had set up. By the following snarl from the ranks growing along the small greenhouses walls one of her ears flicked: “-ah yes, they bite as you just kriffing noticed. They like to bite, like yes, they really kriffing like to bite.” With a long, irritated sigh as if she was talking to a child the short woman leaned her back against the low table. She talked with a bored tune in her voice as if she had told the same a hundred times before: She did actually, everyone touched the always moving ranks, it was the first thing she did too when she had still been a agricultural student and had seen the plant in a laboratory: “Please do not hurt the plant, I needed months to raise it and no flora is better to filter out the air and give nutrients back into the soil.”

It isn't the first time Rhys has been inside an Atlas biodome. Even before its reemergence into prominence, he's visited enough artificially modified spaces to know the general rule of thumb: you don't touch shit unless you understand what's going on.

Still, he has to admire the Tynnan's dedication to the craft. Much as the back of his mind twinges with a mild annoyance, Rhys knows what it's like to have strangers in your workspace. (It's kind of ironic that he's the intruder now, though.)

"Sorry, Miss, uh... Ms. Odiz'Zee, right?" he starts, hands raised so she sees he isn't touching anything.

"I didn't come here to take any of your work out of the environment. I'm Rhys Strongfork" -- he wonders if she recognises his name -- "and I just wanted to see how things've been progressing here for myself.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?"

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

sinking

request: Helloo! 👋🏼 I really like your stories for Spencer Reid, they’re pretty detailed, creative and really interesting! So.. idk if you’ll see this but I was wondering if you’re willing to create a Reid x Reader where, the reader doesn’t know how to swim and so one day, an unsub who works around waters or something holds reader hostage and then shoves her into the ocean off the dock, in hopes to run away and no one knows she can’t swim besides Reid who jumps after her immediately? Sorry, thank u! :)

for: @tooweirdforyou 

word count: 2,600                                                                                     reading time aprox: 10 mins

masterlist

New York City, the land of naked cowgirls in the middle of Times Square, overpriced souvenirs, and home of Broadway shows. Unfortunately we didn’t have the privilege to be stationed in the heart of Manhattan, since our unsub had decided to execute his activities in the suburban neighborhoods of the city.  

We were seated in a police station in Rockaway. The neighborhood we were in was low on the socioeconomic spectrum, which offered a clue to the profile we’ve built. Me, Spencer, and Morgan sat around in the conference of the station, discussing our frivolous adventures of life as we waited for the rest of the team to head back from their tasks. 

“Wait so you’re telling me that you hate the ocean?” Morgan teased Reid, nudging him in the shoulder in a brotherly manner. “Why is that?” He continued, a smirk making its way onto his lips.

“Do you have any idea how many microbes are in the ocean” Spencer cringed, crunching up his nose in disgust. “In a single liter of seawater alone, there’s approximately a colony of one billion bacteria and ten billion virus-” He explained before getting cut off by Morgan. 

“Oka-okay germ boy, enough of that before you ruin my image of a perfect vacation” 

“Germ boy? That’s new” I interjected in amusement, laughing as Spencer squatted lower in his chair to hide the oncoming blush on his cheeks. “Oh come on Spence- hey everyone’s got some sort of phobia” I reassured, reaching over to ruffle his tangled hair. 

“Well actually, a phobia is-” 

“Don’t ruin it Spence” I joked, watching his lips curl up into an amused smile. 

On cue, the rest of the BAU entered the building in a hurry. Hotch and JJ ran side by side into the office where we held Raymund Celter, a relative of the suspected unsub, for questioning. Me, Spencer, and Morgan looked at each other in confusion, until Emily walked up to us with an embittered expression. 

“What’s up?” Morgan asked, directing the conversation to the suspenseful air that surrounded the four of us. 

Emily sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration. “Our unsub...isn’t who we thought it was” She admitted, letting her eyes cast over the interrogation room where Hotch and JJ were.

“Wait- but our profile still fits right?” Morgan insisted with his eyebrows furrowed and his forehead etched with lines. 

“Yeah, but we’ve been looking at the wrong type of relationship” She sighed, her defeated expression indicating the exhaustion that all of us shared. “If the unsub isn’t a relative- and we ruled out employees since the victims aren’t necessarily affluent- who else has full invitation to the house, is comfortable enough with the family, and is particularly close to-” She paused mid sentence as all the cogs in our brains were turning until we all settled on the same idea. 

We looked at each other in revelation and it seemed like JJ and Hotch shared a similar idealization as they rushed out of the interrogation room. 

Emily was quick to get Garcia on the phone, witnessing the troubled looks she received from Hotch. “Garcia, can you see if there were any family friends or close neigh-” She requested, although she was abruptly cut off by Hotch informing her of the details that they’ve uncovered. 

“No need for that. The man we’re looking for is Henry Bennett, he grew up next door to the Celter’s residence- Garcia can you look for the last known address” Hotch commanded, chewing the inside of his mouth in anticipation. 

“Uh- we might have a problem, sir” Garcia sheepishly admitted. “Well I’ve looked at his DMV records and there are 4 possible locations where he can reside at” Garcia explained, sending the coordinates to our tablets. 

“Um okay, we’re going to have to split up. JJ and Morgan, Emily’s with Rossi, Reid you’re with me- Y/N are you okay doing this by yourself?” Hotch asked, concerning wavering in his eyes. I nodded in affirmation, already strapping on my gun and heading to the armory for FBI bullet proof vests. 

After everyone had situated themselves in the right attire, it was time to leave in separate cars. That’s when Spencer pulled me aside by the arm, clutching it with a tense hand. “Are you sure you’re fine going alone? I can tell Hot-” He rambled, his words laced with the same concern Hotch expressed previously. 

“Don’t worry germ boy, I think I can handle myself pretty well” I jokingly reassured. Although the lines etched across his forehead didn’t seem to lessen as I tried to lighten up the air. “Listen Spence...I’m going to be okay- I promise I’ll be extra careful” I expressed in the hopes that his doleful expression would vanish. 

He responded with a hesitant nod and a tight lipped smile, pulling me into a warm embrace. He smelled of pumpkin spice candles mixed in with a little sweat, which, oddly, made out to be a comforting aroma. 

“Hey germ boy, If it makes you feel any better about before, I’m absolutely terrified about the ocean too- well all types of large bodies of water” I sheepishly admitted, ruffling the top of his head as I went to open the front door of the SUV. 

“Wait what?” He replied, taken aback by my profession. “You are?” He continued with a smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah, I don’t do well with the whole “deep water and the unknown thing” I expressed, staring at my twiddling thumbs. “I also, kinda, don’t know how to swim either” I blushed, climbing into the front seat of the vehicle, watching Spencer’s grin grow. Finally bidding a final adieu to all of my colleagues, I headed out to the coordinates I had been assigned to. 

-

With my luck, I was sent to a docking area near Rockaway beach. The coordinates that Garcia had sent me were of an old fishing hut near the coastline. I was in constant contact with the rest of the team, communicating whether the unsub was to be found at our locations.

I surveyed the area with my gun close to my chest, pointed down to the floor. My eyes flickered to the water numerous times, feeling my anxiety rile up in my veins as I attempted to keep my focus on finding unsub.  I was essentially on high alert, every creek and every sound triggering my flight or fight response. 

It wasn't until I had gotten to the fishing hut that my anxiety rose to a new high. The small house was located at the end of the dock where the waves crashed against the wooden spokes below the thin bridge. 

Suddenly, I had heard footsteps from the inside of the hut. I raised my gun into a more controlled position before taking a breath, tentatively opening the door to enter. “FBI”  I yelled, feeling my arms shake as the sound of the water amplified, bouncing off the floorboards. “ Henry Bennett”  I called out,  surveying my surroundings. “ I'm from the FBI, I just want to talk” I peaked  around the corner, seeing a slight shadow of a figure at the end of a hallway. 

I radioed in my location, letting the rest of the team know that I had found the unsub. Hotch informed me that the rest of the team we're coming soon, although they might take longer than expected. With a brief goodbye, I finally made myself known, locking eyes with the unsub himself. “Henry Bennett-” I began but was ultimately cut off with his radical spiel. 

“Ge-get away from m-me” He stuttered, a pistol in his right hand pointed directly at me. “Y-you don-don’t understand. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS!” He yelled, his behavior becoming more unstable by the minute. 

“Hey, it's okay-it's okay, I'm here to help” I proceeded to attempt to calm him down as he started to hit his head with his other hand. Although he continued to inflict harm to himself, repeating the same mantra as before. 

“NO ONE UNDERSTANDS! NO ONE UNDERSTANDS! NO ONE-” 

 In the midst of his words I cut him off abruptly,  placing my gun in its holster to indicate peace. “Henry, look at- hey look at me Henry”  I called his attention, halting his actions. “I'm here to help, my team is going to come very soon and they are going to help you” I reassured, creeping closer to disarm him. 

“Ar-are you sure?” He whimpered, still clutching onto the gun with the tight grip.  I placed my hand over his, letting him sink into my touch. 

“Yes Henry, I promise” I softly guaranteed, feeling his grip loosen up as I rubbed his back to  soothe him. Although as I proceeded to take away his gun, he tensed up again looking at me with doleful eyes. 

“Do you really promise?” He asked in desperation, searching my eyes for the truth as I fished out for his weapon. I nodded, giving him an understanding smile as he finally let go of his weapon. I calmed him down, telling him everything was going to be okay, letting him kneel down into the position to apprehend him for his crimes. 

Unfortunately, the team had picked this time to approach the area, the loud sirens engulfing the dock, triggering the unsub to expel in a violent outburst. Suddenly I was pinned to the ground with strong arms, while malicious screams were emitted from the unsub's mouth. 

“You promised! YOU PROMISED!” The unsub repeated, reaching over to retain the gun he had. “You lied to me- JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!” He sobbed, pressing the cold metal against the back of my forehead. “Now you’re going to pay” He threatened, forcefully pulling me up to my feet and walking me out to the docks. 

The team came into view as we walked out, although my vision was distorted due to the tears that began to appear in the corners of my eyes. “Henry Bennett, FBI, let her go and things will go smoothly” Spencer spoke, maintaining a calm composure. When he locked eyes with my terrified ones, I saw a chink in his armor. 

Despite the small discovery, he had a firm grip on his gun, pointing it directly at the unsub as the rest of the team followed behind him. 

“NO! SHE LIED TO ME!” Henry bellowed, digging the barrel right into the side of my head as he held me by the neck.

“Please Henry, nobody has to be hurt” Emily interjected, trying to extinguish the situation in a peaceful manner. 

“But- but” Henry shook his head, letting his malevolent expression falter for a moment. The team crept closer to where we were positioned. Soon enough, Henry noticed this and for every step forward the team took, he would take a step back. 

It was until we had reached the end of the dock that the team had realized. “Please Henry, we know what happened with Raymund- we know that his parents didn’t approve of your friendship with him-” Emily began, placing her gun in the holster, similar to the tactic performed before. “-or should I say relationship. It was wrong of them to-”

“THEY WERE WRONG! THEY LIED TO ME!” He screamed, the gun in his hand shaking as he loosened his grip. “I loved him and they t-told m-me I couldn’t” He cried, dropping his weapon. 

The team took this as an opportunity to approach Henry, seeing that he was disoriented. But, they soon found out that they were wrong. Henry threw himself into the water with his arm still latched around me. I struggled against his grip, beating against his rib cage as he fought my resistance. 

With a hard blow to the forehead, I was able to swim up to the surface. I glanced at my feet, seeing his unconscious body drift down into the dark abyss. Terrified thoughts raced inside my head, thinking of the possibility of drowning and never being found. I squirmed and kicked, taking in a breath of air as I broke into the surface. 

Suddenly, I was scooped into a pair of arms as I continued to panic and writhe in their grasp. I took chaste breaths, my eyes still covered with water, so I was unable to see who had me. It was until Spencer’s soothing voice reached my ears, that I finally calmed down. 

“Y/N! Y/N! I got you- hey I got you” He repeated, although the affirmation was more for his own state of mind. 

My breathing was still rapid, but my brain had registered that I was going to be okay. I let tears mix in with the sea water on my cheeks as I sobbed in terror. The cold sensation of the water increased my adrenaline by ten fold. I gripped onto Spencer’s vest, similar to a child with their mother, letting his voice soothe me. 

I placed my head in the crook of his neck as he pulled the both of us near a ladder. He pushed me up gently, encouraging me to climb up to the rest of the team. Once I was situated on land, I sat down and burrowed myself into my knees. I was embarrassed, yet grateful that Spencer had saved me, knowing that my severe fear of water was now known to the rest of the team. 

Finally, Spencer knelt down to where I sat, wrapping his long arms around where I had enclosed myself. I let myself lean into his embrace, nuzzling my head into his neck once again as he helped me control my breathing. 

A blanket was placed on the both of us as I refused to get up. Spencer gave a sideways glance to Hotch in the way of saying “give us a moment’. The team had refuted back to their cars in respect to Spencer’s request, leaving me and him on the dock. 

“Than-thank you” I muttered, able to muster up the strength to express my gratitude. 

“It’s nothing Y/N” He reassured, letting the sound of seagulls and the waves permeate the ambiance of the scene. “When...when you told me that you had a fear of the water- and that you can’t swim- seeing you getting pushed into the water nearly gave me a heart attack” He admitted, breathing into the top of my head. 

“I don’t- I don’t know what to do to thank you Spence. I was so- so terrified- and you went to- I just- thank you” I praised, looking up into his worried expression. 

I placed an apprehensive hand on his cheek, getting a better look at the beautiful features that graced his face. I smiled at him, observing how his eyes would flicker from my eyes to my lips. I blushed at the discovery, letting myself lean more into his embrace. 

Slowly, our faces closed in on the distance, our breaths fanning over each other’s faces as we looked at each other for any indication of resistance. Finally our lips collided in a kiss, maintaining slow movements as we melted in each other. 

His lips were supple and tasted like vanilla lip balm, although his movements were gentle and meaningful. He grazed my cheeks with both of his hands, cupping them in his palms as he pulled away. He proceeded to place chaste kisses on my forehead as I let my eyes close at the feeling. 

“I think that was a pretty great way to thank me” He grinned. 

“I guess I’ll just have to keep thanking you for all the times you’ve made my life better” 

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @howdycharlie​

A/N

i hope this is okay, not my best work, but i hope it’s still enjoyable. 

[unbridgeabledistances]

ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3

anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)

in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3

(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)

--

There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.

It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:

“You could try swimming across the border.”

“I never learned how, man.”

And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”

It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.

Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”

Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.

Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:

“I wanna try something today.”

Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.

Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.

“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.

Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.

“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”

Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.

Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.

Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.

“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”

And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.

“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”

Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”

Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.

Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.

“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”

Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C��mon.”

Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.

“You coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.

“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.

Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”

Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”

Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.

With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.

“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”

Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.

“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”

Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.  

“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”

They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.

Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!”

Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.

Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.

“Truce!”

Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.

“Truce.”

Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”

Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”

Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”

Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”

Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.

“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”

Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”

Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”

Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.

“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”

Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.

“Little help here, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.

He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”

Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.

Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”

He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.

“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”

As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.

Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.

And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.

Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.

Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.

And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.

Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing—  it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.

It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.

By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.

Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.

They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.

Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.  

Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity  zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.

Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.

**

Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.

Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”

Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”

[fallenfurther]

Deep in the dragon’s den

FAB-FIVE-FEB 2021 - Scott

Prompts used:  boat, “Are you kidding?” and cave

Finally managed to bash out and write up Scott’s week. Cave and boat came together beautifully in my head. Here are the young Tracy boy’s on a day out with Grandma (who is thoroughly enjoying herself). 

*********

The boat jolted at the entrance of the cave. Scott sat back; eyes turned to the sky as the cave slowly swallowed them. The lapping of the water against the side of the boat would have been relaxing if they weren’t heading into the dark unknown. The waves hit the rock, occasionally sending spray into the air around them. Excited mutterings came from the seat in front of him. Alan was head of Gordon in the boat but was twisted so Gordon could whisper in his ear. Scott watched his youngest brother’s eyes widen and face fill with worry. Scott held back a groan, knowing all too well that Gordon was filling Alan’s head with lies. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Virgil, John and Grandma in the boat behind them. Grandma waved, a giant smile on her face. She’ had deliberately made him go with the troublesome two and as if on cue, the boat began rocking from side to side. They disappeared from view as their boat continued to turn the corner.

“Gordon!” Alan squawked.

Scott turned forward to see the outline of Gordon kneeling and throwing his body from side to side to, with poor Alan holding on to the rail tightly. Scott grabbed Gordon’s shoulder and pulled him down, so he was sitting before hissing in his ear.

“Stop it, Gordon.”

“Spoilsport.”

His brother huffed and Scott rolled his eyes, though now they were in the pitch black he could barely make his brothers out. Their boat continued forward slowly, tension building inside him as his hands gripped the rail harder. His eyes scanned the darkness for anything that would give away what would happen next.

“Is something gonna happen?” Alan whispered.

“Of course!”

There was way too much glee in Gordon’s voice as it bounced of the walls around them. Their boat bumped to a halt and a small gasp came from Alan. They waited in the silence.

All at once bright lights flashed on in front of them, illuminating the dragon that was diving out towards them. Alan screamed, jumping back into Gordon who was cackling. Scott was glad he was behind them as he too had jumped, slightly, at the sudden movement.

“Who dares enter my cave?” A deep voice boomed, “Be warned, you’ll never leave alive!”

The lights went out as the sound of creaking gears informed Scott that the dragon was retracting. His death grip on the rail no longer felt like overkill as their little boat was tipped forward, sending the quickly under the dragon, and splashing water over the rim. The boat bobbed along a corridor lined with dim lanterns that barely lit their way. There was also an ethereal green glow along the stone walls, like there were luminescent bacteria growing along them. It was oddly pleasant to see, though felt a little out of place. Their boat turned a sharp corner and continued, heading straight for a rock wall. In the light of the fake lanterns, Scott could see Alan shaking as the wall got closer, only for it to lift out the way at the last second. Gordon laughed.

“It’s a ride, Alan. Nothing bad can happen.”

Alan still didn’t look sure, and Scott hated to admit he was still holding on tight, not entirely certain about the sudden jolts the ride seemed to spring on them. He was fifteen and should not be scared by a kid’s ride. However, this was no Wonderpark with its ultramodern high-tech rides that all his friends were raving about, and the actually park he’d asked to go to. This was an old clunky theme park his Grandma had gone to as a teen and had taken Dad to when he was young. Some of the rides were ancient, and Scott was not convinced by their safety record. The boat made its way through the room of shiny fake gold, treasure and jewels. It jostled them as it turned another corner and took them down yet another dark stone corridor. Halfway along, the tail of the dragon splashed down directly in front of their boat, which jarred as it an invisible barrier. Scott was thrust forward, almost colliding with the rest that separated him from his brothers. The tail rose before them, water dripping from the green spines. The boat continued its journey, though a drop of cold water hit the back of Scott’s neck as they passed beneath the tail. At the end of the corridor the boat was pulled up an incline, the clunk of the chain resounding around them as Gordon became more excited. They faced yet another dead end. An image of the dragon’s yellow reptilian eye blinked through a fake hole in the wall.

“You can’t escape now!”

The voice boomed. A creak came from their right and they all turned in time to see a giant claw reaching for them. As it came down, the boat was shunted to the left and the claw paused just where their boat had been. A roar echoed around them as the walls shook and their boat was pushed backwards down a ramp. Alan screamed. Gordon jeered. Scott’s jaw clenched as an almighty splosh came from behind him as the back of the boat hit still water. A tidal wave was thrown into the air and crashed down around Scott, drenching him. It was still dark as their boat was once again turned and started heading towards the sound of yet another chain. They floated along briefly before being pulled up another, longer incline. The eerie green glow was back, and in some places, it was so dense Scott could see the features on his brothers’ faces. Both were staring at him and burst out laughing.

“All that effort this morning, ruined on the second ride.”

Alan sniggered at his brother’s comment. Indeed, Scott’s neatly gelled hair was now plastered to the sides of his face. Deciding he needed to get a little bit of revenge, Scott shook his head vigorously trying to spray them with water. The younger boys just laughed, though he was smiling too. His brother was right, it had been a wasted effort. As their boat reached the top, daylight shone around the curve. The excitement in the boat began to build. It was time for the big drop. Scott grinned and his brothers fidgeted eagerly as they exit came into view, along with the sight of the whole park.

“You may have survived my cave, but you won’t survive the drop!”

Gordon and Alan cheered as their boat teetered towards the edge.

“I’m going to put my hands up.” Gordon stated proudly.

“No! Don’t. You’ll fall out.” Alan gasped.

Scott shook his head as the boat started to tilt. A second later, gravity took them. The air whipped Scott’s wet hair back as they sped down the slide. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as Gordon and Alan whooped. The front of their boat hit the water throwing it high into the air. Alan hollered as the water rained down on them, soaking them all to the bone. A glance at each other had them all laughing, as their boat made its way to the exit. As they were guided off, the splash of the next boat made Scott turn just in time to see the soaking of John, Virgil and Grandma. They raced to the photobooth meeting point, Alan and Gordon already checking out the photos on display, eagerly awaiting theirs. The others arrived shortly, and Gordon headed straight to Grandma.

“I need a copy of these photos.”

Grandma raised her eyebrow.

“Are you sure? You only get one set from me.”

“I’m certain.”

Scott left them to it, not too bothered by the photos, and turned to his other brothers.

“I can’t believe you actually wore that poncho, John.”

“Unlike some, I don’t want to spend the day in wet clothes.”

Scott stepped up and help Virgil pull the dripping poncho over John’s head, trying to keep him as dry as possible. They folded it into the bag John had brought specially. John had managed to stave of all but a few splashes.

“Let me see!”

Alan protested as Gordon admired his new fridge magnets. Scott headed over with his brothers to get a peek. The first one was of the three of them going down the final drop, big smiles on their faces and Gordon did indeed have his hands in the air. Scott had to admit it was a good one. The second, however, was taken at the appearance of the dragon, the flash hidden by the sudden blinding lights, and was much less flattering. Gordon was grinning, while Alan was a picture of wide-eyed shock. Scott groaned when his eyes fell on the image of his tense body and startled face. No wonder Gordon was so eager to have that one.

“I’m going to show them to all my friends.”

“Are you kidding?”

Scott turned away, knowing he was doomed. Gordon and his friends would be giggling over that magnet for months.

[stusbunker]

Questions: Who?

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Wife!Reader

Setting: Starts in Season 12, ends in Season 13

Sixth and Final Chapter of my Questions Series

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading this through! I really appreciate the support and feedback! xoxo Stu

Warnings: Torture, blood, vomit, hospitals, fate, free will, pregnancy and childbirth, stupid levels of fluff at the end, which I meant to write all along.

You had worn many hats through the years: Daughter, Friend, Orphan, Hunter, Cousin, Fraud, Thief, Prisoner, Girlfriend, and now Wife. But nothing held the power of who you were like looking into his eyes.

This was it, this is what it meant to be insane, possibly feral. It was beyond reason, beyond anger or fear. It was a desperate, frustrating lack of control. The moment she came into the room you snarled at the woman. Prim and proper and utterly infuriating.

God, you wanted to snap her neck. That thought stopped you in your tracks, rank air pulled through your nostrils as you tried to get back to yourself. It would have been easier, if you weren’t still bleeding from the gunshot to your calf.

“We seem to have started off on the wrong foot. Understandably, a woman must defend her home,” she driveled on. “Now, we came to bring in the Winchesters, but you don’t really count.”

She paced in front of you, crisp suit unsullied from the dingy basement. You tried to remember what her partner or partners looked like, they couldn’t be very far. She hadn’t be the one to drag you in, let alone Sam. Sam. Where had they taken him?!

Your mind flitted through the chances of an escape, for either of you, while she prattled on.

“You know those boys stir up trouble wherever they go. We can help you. Give you a fresh start,” Toni attempted to give you a reassuring smile.

“Who do you think you are, lady? If you think I am going to turn on either of them, you are clearly not as smart as you look,” you spat out, chills racking your body, accentuating every aching joint bound by unforgiving knots.

“Give it time, some bacteria growth, and you’ll be crippled. Not much for hunting by then. I wonder what happens to those too weak to keep up?” She eyed you suspiciously. Then continued with breathy exasperation, “I’ll be back. Maybe then we can talk about where your loyalties lie.”

You woke to the sound of Sam’s screams, muffled and haunting. Lips chapped and with barely enough strength to lift your head you called back.

“Sam! Sam! Don’t--- don’t let her win! You hear me?!”

He broke off suddenly, the fear and rage resurfacing as you came back to your surroundings. Your head throbbed and you realized someone must have gagged him or knocked him out. You counted your own shallow breaths waiting for them to do the same to you.

The pain in your leg had changed, slowly you were able to squirm to see that they had sewn you up. The fact that you had been unconscious long enough for them to do any number of things to you made your empty stomach clench. You waited for the British Barbie to return as you worked through your options.

No one had come for you, despite the obvious rounds of torture Sam had endured. You sat and waited, pain and thirst battling for your attention as you tried to undo the ropes at your bleeding wrists. Suddenly a very different sound was pulled from Sam’s throat, a moan so specific that you finally lost the acid that had been building in your gut.

What the hell was going on?

You started to spiral, possibilities of what was to come scaring you more than anything else had ever before. As you slipped into unconsciousness once more, you started to dread waking back up.

Everything blurred, one moment you saw Sam’s face bloody and alarmed then Dean’s barking over the backseat. Cas’s voice was stern, but you couldn’t understand why he was so insistent.

Then there was a woman’s voice, one that was as soothing as it was foreign.

The air around you was clinically comfortable. The morning light slanted as it peeked through the vertical blinds, you were still tied down, but these were very different bindings. The I.V. and heart rate monitor kept you on a short leash. Sam’s snoring at your bedside the only thing that told you this was real. The sight of your husband so mutilated brought tears to your eyes.

The fact that you were in the hospital bed when he wasn’t told you how bad you must have been.

You cleared your throat, mouth sour and voice hoarse. Sam startled awake, wincing as he adjusted in the vinyl chair.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His hand snaked over the rail and grabbed yours, heavy and familiar.

“How you feelin’?” Sam asked, brow pitched.

“Surprisingly not bad. Why am I here, Sam? Couldn’t Cas---,” you started.

Sam cut you off, “He said it was best to bring you in, you were really dehydrated and needed two blood transfusions.”

“What about you?” You tried to sit up, brushing your fingers over the places where you remembered he had been bleeding.

“I’m fine. Cas took care of me. Listen, Baby, the reason Cas insisted you got to the hospital is, well,” Sam cleared his throat and cocked his head, debating on what to say next.

“Because I’m pregnant,” you answered.

“You knew?” Sam gaped, floundering so much that you almost laughed in his face.

You nod. “The world was ending, I wasn’t sure it was going to last. And couldn’t put something else out there to worry about.”

“You still could have told me.” Sam sniffed, the news overtaking him in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you breathed out, gripping Sam’s forearm as you braced yourself for reality. “Am I still? Did we lose--,”

“Hey, it’s okay, you are. The doctor had strong and steady heartbeats from both of you.” Sam smiled down at you as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Is it bad that I don’t know how I feel about it yet?” You asked nervously, praying he wouldn’t judge you for your honesty.

He barely even hesitated, bless him.

“Of course not. The lives we lead, this is going to take some adjusting. For all of us. But if you’re in this, I’ll be right there beside you,” Sam gave you a watery smile. “Alright?”

You nodded and leaned in to give him a simple kiss, lingering in the calm of sharing his oxygen.

“Sam?” You asked. He hummed in reply. “Who was the woman in the car with us on the way here? I don’t remember seeing her, just a voice.”

“Well, apparently Amara decided Dean needed something in return for him, I don’t know, reconciling her and Chuck, God, whatever. So she, uh, she brought back my mom.”

Being benched after the Brits kidnapping you was understandable, your body and psyche needed a breather. But now it was getting frustrating.

“Sorry, pregnant chicks don’t get to hunt, not on my cases,” Dean tossed you one of his petulant company smiles.

“You’re being ridiculous! I’m barely showing, no one needs to know,” you argued with your stubborn brother-in-law as Sam and Castiel shared apprehensive looks behind Dean’s back.

“Yeah, well, I know. Look, I get it, you can take care of yourself. But this is big, alright? If Lucifer gets wind that Sam’s got a fresh meat suit on the way,” Dean puffed himself up to unload on you.

“That’s enough, Dean,” Cas chided.

Sam was visibly stunned by Dean’s comment, the possibility of Lucifer using you or your baby made him recoil with disgust.

Of course you hadn’t thought of that. Vessels were linked by bloodlines, you carried a part of the fallen archangel’s true vessel. As you processed the gravity of what Dean was saying, Sam seemed to slump with guilt.

“Oh, god,” he said underneath his breath.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll stay back on this one,” you tried to reassure him.

“I didn’t even think--- you have to be careful. I mean it, until Lucifer is back in the cage or dead, none of us are safe.” His hands latched onto your hips, thumbs rubbing tight circles over your growing belly.

You pulled his jaw up to look him in the eye, the man you trusted beyond all others, the love of your life, your rock.

“We will be fine, Sam. Go do what needs doing and come home safe. All of you.” You looked to Dean whose jaw was set in agreement. You nodded to Cas and leaned up to kiss Sam goodbye.

It hurt to watch them go where you couldn’t help keep them safe. But you had a different job to do now and it just kept getting bigger.

Days turned into weeks and there were no leads on Sam or Dean. Mary and Cas were doing everything they could, but nothing would ease your anguish until you had answers.

Your body continued to grow, the constant reminder that time progressing was just one more thing beyond your control.

The fear of raising your baby alone increased with each passing day.

Jody called out of the blue and a tidal wave of emotions hit you. You had a village, even if they were widespread. You could do this if you had to. You would do whatever it took to keep your family safe, even if it meant eventually having to give up on finding Sam and Dean.

They charged in through the garage on a gray afternoon, gaunt and exhausted. Time, finally seemed to stop as Sam’s face flushed with relief as you ran into his arms.

“Do you know what you’re having?” Kelly Kline’s bright eyes flitted to your matching bump.

You shook your head. “Nope, decided to let it be a surprise, we aren’t really the decorating type. You?”

“Half spawn of Satan, but I feel like it’s a boy,” she teased, you appreciated her snark.

“What’s that like? Do you have to deal with wings in there along with all the kicks and elbows?” You pulled your knee up on the couch in the cabin’s small living room. Getting as comfortable as possible as you got to know Lucifer’s baby mama.

She groaned out a sigh. “Probably? Who knows? He’s growing so fast!”

You caught Castiel’s eye as the unspoken worry passed between you.

“The baby is human shaped, his wings are not corporeal on this plane,” your angel friend explained dully.

“Who needs an ultrasound when you’ve got this guy?!” you broke the awkward silence as Kelly internalized that her son, in fact, had wings.

“I’m sorry, how is it you know Castiel, Y/N?” Kelly tried to change the direction of the conversation.

“Uh, well, I’m a hunter. Do you know what I mean by that?” You offered.

“Like the Winchesters?” Her voice grew tighter as she looked to Cas to ensure she and her baby remained safe in your presence.

“Like the Winchesters. In fact I--,” you tried to ease into it.

“She is Sam’s wife, Kelly. I brought her here for you to understand that though their actions might seem extreme, they are good men,” Cas explained.

“But they’re also idiots,” you broke in. “We all have our baggage, for Sam, a lot of that baggage is Lucifer. Do you know who my husband and his brother are?”

You let your guard down, breathing through your inner defensiveness and spoke to Kelly as a civilian. Because she was still such an innocent, despite everything that had happened since Lucifer jumped into her boyfriend.

Kelly looked to Cas before shaking her head.

“Sam was Lucifer’s power suit, his true vessel. He was destined from the beginning to bring forth the apocalypse. And Dean was Michael’s. Two sets of brothers meant to end the world.”

“I don’t understand, why wasn’t he--,”

“Because Sam, and Dean, chose a different path,” Cas concluded.

“And so, I’m here to let you know that your child will be allowed to chose the right path for himself.” You sighed, feeling the weight of destiny in your words. The offer to bring her child into your family despite his parentage as a sign that the world held more good than chaos.

You didn’t know who you were reassuring more, Kelly or yourself.

It was nothing like you had expected, yet just as horrendous as you had imagined. Your muscles seized as you bore down, again. The clothed faces of the doctor and nurses were a sea of unfamiliarity. You needed Sam.

But he wasn’t there.

You groaned, trying to push harder than ever before. You had to be nearly done. You needed your baby to finally arrive so you could rest. As much as you wanted to meet them; you were exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally depleted.

“And relax,” the doctor coached. “Great job, Mrs. Campbell. Breathe.”

You nodded, mouth closed as you tried not to cry.

You had never felt so alone in your entire life, not in foster care after the wendigo had slaughtered your parents or in the years after losing Rafe. Not even the dank cell that Crowley had left you in, had you felt this terrifyingly and helplessly alone.

You were going to be a mother. And there was no one at your side. No matter how certain you were that Sam wanted to be there; he wasn’t.

Before you were ready, you were pushing through another contraction.

“Big push, keep going, that’s it, don’t stop,” the doctor’s voice was firm and insistent. You wanted to swing your machete. Or a solid baseball bat.

You screamed as your body burned, clenching and pulsing against the child inside you. You needed it out.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” a voice like heaven broke through your anguish as Sam peeled your hand from the bedside rail.

“You prick!”

“I know,” Sam acquiesced, giving you his determined furrowed brow as the doctor regained your attention.

“Glad you could make it, Dad. Mom? We need another series of big pushes from you. Are you ready?”

“No--- I need a break--- fuck!” You felt the contraction attack your body and you couldn’t help but whimper.

“You can do this, just a few more, Baby,” Sam promised with quiet insistence.

You gave a faltering effort, which the doctor acknowledged.

“Alright, we missed that one, don’t stop again. Let’s go, big finish,” the doctor barked, her voice insanely controlled.

You were not made for the calm approach; you unleashed, grunting and pushing through as you fought with every once of strength you had left. It hurt so much suddenly you had stepped away from the moment, trying to focus on the effort without maintaining a full grasp on your body.

Your hearing muffled as your body resisted.

There was no way around this, but through it. You bucked against the stirrups and bore down one last time.

“We have a head!” The nurse exclaimed, excitement blooming in your chest.

You looked at Sam. Your tears of relief and wonder matched in his eyes. You pushed again, teeth clenched as an unholy growl escaped from deep inside you.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor cried.

You fell limp as they moved to clean up your son. Sam was called over for the cord. Somewhere in the chaos, the doctor got you through the afterbirth. Then, at long last, you were able to hold your baby.

Sam handed him to you as you adjusted to lay him flush to your chest, feeling his clammy skin to yours. He was so tiny, and warm, a wrinkled bruiser, and the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Ohhhhh,” you cooed through more tears. “Hey, buddy. It’s good to see you.”

You kissed his downy head, feeling peace float through you. You looked up to Sam, who remained standing, watching you with such reverence in his expression that you laughed at him.

“We did it,” you gushed.

“Nah, this one is all you,” Sam winked before he brushed his thumb over the back of the baby’s head.

“Where’s Dean?”

“He and Jack are in the waiting room,” Sam answered, not looking away from the baby’s face.

You nodded before you looked down to find the baby squirming against your breast. “Let them wait.”

Sam hummed in agreement.

“Alright, little man, this is your first lesson: driver picks the music, while carseat sleeps the whole way home. Ya got it?” Dean crooned down to your son as you snapped the last latch in place.

“That’s cute that you think I am going to let you drive him home,” you teased.

“What?! Come on, you can’t drive; I heard the doctor! You guys can ride with me and my baby! It is only right that his first car ride be in the Impala,” Dean argued. Sam sighed and Dean spun on the spot. “No, not you too.”

“There isn’t really the right kind of hook ups in the backseat, Dean,” Sam reasoned.

“Oh don’t you get all safety patrol on me now,” Dean huffed.

“I mean, we could always install some brackets----,” you started, smirking at Sam.

“I’m not even going to let you finish,” Dean cut you off. “Fine. Take your crappy import back. But Little Bobby is going to ride with me, sooner or later.”

You knew he was right. And you would have bet that Dean was already figuring out what hidden adjustments he could make without “yuppifying” his prized Chevy.

“Little Bobby?” Jack questioned, looking to Sam in confusion. Your husband just shrugged.

“What? You name my nephew Robert and don’t like it when I call him Lil Bobby?” Dean looked between you and Sam with an exasperated dead eye.

“We named him Robert Rafe John Winchester, Dean,” Sam clarified.

“We’re calling him RJ,” you finished.

“That’s nice,” Dean replied before leaning down and fist bumping your son’s little knuckles. “See ya at home, Lil Bobby. Your folks are nuts. Tough break, kid.”

“Right,” Sam chuckled as he picked up the handle on the bucket carseat, following you as the five of you made your way out of the hospital room. You walked behind Jack, who was lost in thought, as he kept up with Dean.

All your boys.

The only person missing was Mary; you felt her absence like a proverbial gray cloud hovering over your heads. There was still work to do, baby or no.

Sam and Dean wouldn’t quit until the world was safe. Their mother’s safety was only the next hurdle.

And you wouldn’t expect any less from your family. You knew your child would be protected; he didn’t need normal to be happy and healthy and neither did you.

You had everything you needed, you had your husband and your son. The hunt was out there waiting for when you were ready to get back to it.

You were complete.

Series tags: @dontshootmespence @ericaprice2008 @chucksnotonanyflatbread @reid-fiction @madlu45 @mogaruke @akshi8278 @mrswhozeewhatsis​

[poisonously-alluring-sev]

Snape One Shots ~ Gothic Lust

Summary: Emily is one of the more popular students at Hogwarts, who also happens to be a goth, and even though most people like to obsess over her and want to date her, she has never let any of the students at Hogwarts date her. Children of all ages she didn’t like so when a dark and mysterious MAN who matches her grumpy and dark aesthetic comes along she can’t help, but be curious.

Pairing: Snape x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing

Time: Two years before Harry Graduates

Word Count: 12 200

Recommended Song: Girl I Know by Avenged Sevenfold

Main Character: Emily Jones; 20; DOB: Dec 16th, 1969 (Sagittarius); American; Caucasian; Slytherin; Pure Blood; 5'5; light skin; dark brown hair with green tips; green/gray eyes

The Quidditch match was finally over with my teams mates taking first place in the house rankings before we go home for the Christmas holidays. I hugged and applauded my Chaser's, Beater's, Keeper and Seeker before heading off the change rooms. Everyone that was watching was applauding us and as I looked up I swear I saw Snape smiling as he clapped in response to what everyone else was doing, But as soon as I thought it was there it was gone making me feel like I was seeing things.

I gave my speech to my team, as all captains do after a game, and then we hopped back on our brooms and flew back to the castle as the stars started to come out. Tonight the Slytherin house was having a Christmas party and also celebrating our Quidditch win. Unlike the normal parties, we have where everyone gets super drunk and somehow a group of like 20 kids from each other house ends up in the party, this time it was just going to be us.

Soon it was 10 pm and everyone was expected to be in they're dorms and most teachers were in they're quarters and not walking the halls. Many of the older students were in the common room as a small group of fifth years went out to the kitchen to get some extra fire whiskey and such. Soon they come running back into the common room waving the alcohol in the air and within a few minutes, everyone had a drink in their hand or had taken a couple shots and were dancing to the music that was playing. After about two hours Murphy Hugh stood on a table and yelled out into the loud crowd and got all of the student's attention.

"Hey y'all, so I know we normally have the Christmas parties, but this one is special thanks to our Quidditch team helping us get 500 points ahead of all of the other houses!" He raised his glass and everyone clapped, screamed or wolf-whistled. I found myself getting pushed up onto the table by someone and drunk as always Murphy pulled me in by my waist to stand beside him as he toasted to me and my teammates and said a couple more things.

"Hey, you wanna say something Em?"

"Merry Fucking Christmas you beautiful fucks! Now, where's the hard liquor?" People yelled in response and started to dance, drink, and make out again. Hopping off of the table I got thrown a full bottle of fire whiskey from Murphy as he said,

"You really sure you don't want a boyfriend Em? You are the most popular girl in Hogwarts, everybody has a thing for you." I rolled my eyes as I sat down on the one couch that wasn't covered in couples, Murphy sat down with me.

"Come on Murph, I told you already, I don't care for dating, it's too much work to have to care for someone, plus I want someone who will call on demons with me or jump into a burning building for fun. I don't think anyone here is of that status."

"Okay, true, but I'm sure you'll find someone." He stood up and started to walk away and I said over the loud music.

"You too mister drunk." He spun around and gave me the finger bringing a chuckle out of me. I downed about half of the bottle and said to myself,

"Let's get this fucking party started."

**** The Next Morning ****

It was 10 am when I finally woke up still in my clothes from last night's party and a pounding headache. I stood up slowly and decided I didn't need a shower and put my hair into a thick braid and tied it into a bun. I could hear the last few students running out of they're dorms to get to the train before they were late. I sighed at the pain in my head when I started to walk to the door but was too lazy to take something for it and thought I would just deal with it and headed out off the common room to the kitchen to where hopefully they had some leftovers from breakfast for me. As soon as I entered Pitts looked at me and waved me over to the back. I had spent so much time down here for food I missed at meals and sometimes for detention, but I usually was sent to help Hagrid since I didn't like magical creatures that much.

I sat down in the backroom of the kitchen and snacked on some breakfast pastries and bacon until I felt I had enough food in my body to keep going until dinner where food would be served again. After I was done I thanked the elves in the kitchen and headed upstairs to maybe see if someone cool stayed back for the Christmas holidays. Sadly, nobody was in the great hall or in the courtyard. I sighed as my eyes hurt and burned from the sun making my head worse and decided to head down to the boathouse and see if maybe I could catch someone bulling a first or second year. Again to my disappointment nobody was there and I was bored. I sat down on a bench inside the boathouse happy that there wasn't anybody here, but I also was hoping I could yell at someone and scare them with my goth looks.

After about 10 minutes of me just sitting in silence and enjoying it I could feel eyes on me, it could have just been another student, but they kept their eyes on me and I could feel it burning into the back of my head. I was starting to get sick of them watching me and was ready to spin around and very passive-aggressively ask them what they were doing, but I felt the gaze drift away, which made me curious to find out who it was. I stood up and saw nobody there so I went out of the boathouse and looked up the trail you take to get here and no one. I looked the other way to where the shore of the Black Lake was and saw a tall figure moving in the trees by the shore. Since they were very tall I figured it was a teacher who probably was watching to see if I was going to cause trouble. I scoffed the feeling off and followed them. You can never know what curious things different things happen at Hogwarts and what some secrets about teachers you can find. I am a popular student at Hogwarts anything I say will spread like wildfire within the school and to be honest, it feels nice to have that kind of power to ruin someone's reputation, but I never have done it I just hear about things other people say about me and I shut them down.

After about five minutes of me keeping my distance from this person they stopped at the edge of the lake and the dark forest, I hated going into the dark forest for detention since even during the daytime it was like it was 8 pm in the summer, dark, but you could barely see details in what could be following you as you head deeper into the forest. I was hesitant to keep following, but I had absolutely nothing better to do so I kept my distance and slowly stepped over sticks following behind them at about a 20ft distance. Soon I had followed them to what seemed to be a small garden with different flowers and plants that I'm pretty sure I remember from Herbology or maybe Potions. They bent down to pick and cut a few of them as I looked around the surrounding area and thought,

'This sure is a strange place to have a garden.' I shrugged, but I was soon brought back to focusing on the person in front of me who basically reacted as though he heard my thoughts making me think I said them out loud, but I was sure that I didn't. The person had tensed up and had stopped cutting leaves from the plants and were slowly putting it away like there was a deadly creature watching him and he was trying not to make a scene. I was starting to panic thinking that maybe they had seen me and I decided to slowly back away and as soon as I was out of eyesight and earshot I started to run away back on the path I had come from. About a few minutes later I saw the boathouse again and fell down back onto the bench I was sitting on earlier hoping to be able to catch my breath. After a couple of minutes, my heart rate had lowered back to normal and I wasn't in such a panic as I was before. Looking back to what had just happened I tried to rule out the possibilities of who that could have been, but it wasn't easy since I never heard a voice or was able to see their face, all I had was the body shape of this person. They were either 6ft or taller, had to be male, wore all black, had black hair, or I was assuming since it was dark I couldn't really tell, and they had a special garden out in the dark forest.

I decided to go to the library to see if I could find those plants that were there and maybe see what they could be used for and why someone here at Hogwarts would need them. After looking for about 40 minutes I figured out that the plants were common things used in potions to help with getting rid of toxins and bacteria from the human body. It confused me at first since to me nobody has any need to have these plants, but then my mind clicked. Snape. Of course, he has a garden to grow these plants the come from far away places. It also makes much more sense since he is also to Potions teacher and I was surprised I didn't make that connection before when I was there. I felt really stupid and with all of this thinking and reading my head was really starting to pound now and I decided to go to Pomfrey and finally get this pain out of my head, even though I know Pomfrey will yell at me for drinking she shouldn't be surprised since I can only imagine how many other students came to her before they left this morning.

I knew that at this time she probably didn't have a super serious injury to take care of so I just opened the doors and went straight to her about to wave when I saw Snape talking to her with the same plants I had seen him taking from his secret garden. My hand slowly dropped as they both turned around to look at me as Snape handed her the flowers. I smiled at them and I walked closer to them as they finished their conversation. Soon Pomfrey turned to me and asked me why I was here.

"Well, like my other house friends I too need something for a pounding headache that I somehow got when I woke up this morning." She sighed and pulled out a newly brewed potion from her closest, handed it to me and thanked Snape for delivering her the ingredients she needed. I felt myself give a confused look to Snape as he watched me slowly walking past Pomfrey and I as she lectured me on drinking, but I wasn't paying attention to her, but the strange teacher watching me as he passed.

'What the hell is his problem?' I asked myself in my head, and yet again he reacted as if I talked out loud, but I was certain I didn't. He glared at me as I gave yet an even more confused look to which he seemed to react weirdly and walked away quickly not looking back. I shrugged in my head and continued to tell her that she needed to relax since she probably already told about 20 other students this lecture before and I could tell she was tired even though it was only like 12:30. Soon I had gotten Pomfrey to stop talking and downed my potion and walked out of the hospital wing feeling better already, but very confused about Snape.

**** 6pm (Dinner Time) ****

I was sitting right at the front of my house table, closest to the teacher table, waiting for Pitty to finally set out the food so I could eat it and then head back to my dorm and just hang out and enjoy being alone even though I did that for most of the day already. As I ate with a couple other housemates I could feel heavy eyes watching me and I honestly wasn't really going to look around and see who it was, and I wasn't surprised that the first place I looked was to the teachers' table since I had been suspicious of Snape all day and not to my surprise we locked gazes and neither of us wanted to look away and seem weak, at least that's what I thought we were doing. After a couple of seconds Snape looked away and I mentally fist-bumped, but soon was pulled away from that thought as I saw who he was looking at now. Dumbledore. They were both looking at each other and I saw Dumbledore raise an eyebrow and Snape roll his eyes and go back to his food, but Dumbledore looked over at me and smiled I smiled back, but only because I had zero ideas of what just happened.

After seeing that Dumbledore probably noticed us both staring at each other I tried my hardest not to look back up there and got invested in a conversation that was happening at my table. About 20 minutes later most of the Hall was empty besides a group of other popular students, me, and Snape who wasn't really eating his food, but rather it seemed like he was using it as an excuse to stay in the Great Hall for some reason. I keep glancing up at the teacher's table and every time I did Snape looked up like he knew I was watching him and it kind of freaked me out when he would look back at me with a glare at basically the same time I looked in his direction. Soon we had all finished our dinner and as the others talked for a bit I just wanted to get out of the Hall, but as I stood up I noticed Snape already walking towards me. I don't know why, but I panicked, he was clearly coming for me since he had his eyes locked on me. I quickly made my way through some small crowds that were in my way and by the time I got to the main doorway I thought I was home free. I was wrong. A large hand landed on my shoulder and I quietly cursed to myself as I turned around to see Snape standing there arms crossed like he was trying to seem angry.

"Yes Professor?" I said trying to make it seem like I didn't care, but in the back of my head I could tell that he wasn't convinced.

"Dumbledore said that he would like to see you in his office, now." He said in a very stern voice that honestly didn't really fit this kind of conversation, maybe if I like pulled a huge prank or something, but not right now.

"Oh..kay," I said pretty confusedly. We both stood there looking at each other, but not in the eyes which made things pretty awkward and then Snape slipped past me and went right in the direction of the dungeons. I stood there for a little bit kind of dumbfounded, but then I made my way to see what Dumbledore wanted, he probably wanted to talk about what he saw today and I honestly couldn't think of any good excuse.

"Fuck me." The hidden staircase opened up as I said the secret password and waited for moving stairs to take me to the top since I was too lazy to actually walk up to them. I knocked on the door, but no response so I just let myself in, as usual, Dumbledore doesn't mind. I found myself in the Headmaster's office which was strangely quiet. Not saying that it never is quiet, but Dumbledore would normally have a window open or something and you could hear the sounds of the wind blowing, but this time there wasn't even that. I looked at the painting of the past Headmasters many of them weren't nice to me and I had to hold in the urge to flip them off and got distracted by the number of books in the back of the room. After about a minute or two I noticed that these books weren't your normal library books, but rather ones that you might not even find in the restricted section.

"Human eating trees, magical ocean portals, muggle sightings. Okay, some of these are a little weird, oh no wonder," I looked on the inside of the book to read the date of when t was made.

"Some of these are 500 years old." I sighed with boredom and went back down the stairs to sit in one of the few sofa chairs that sit with teapots in front of them. I didn't really know too much summoning magic, but I was considered to be one of the most academic students of my year so I probably could see if maybe I was able to summon some tea for myself. After about a few minutes of focusing and trying really hard to summon at least some water, nothing was happening. I let out a large sigh in mental agony.

"Not everyone at your age is ready to summon things from thin air, but I can give you a book to practice if you like," Dumbledore said from behind me scaring me a little. He waved his hand over the teapot and poured two cups for us. I just gently glared at him when he wasn't looking and took a sip of the tea.

"You wanted to talk to me, Headmaster?" He took a set down in another chair on the other side of the table and looked like he was ready to gossip about ol' Brenda the crazy bitch friend.

"Ah, yes. There are a couple of things I would like to talk to you about today." He took a sip of his tea and thankfully I felt a little revealed, but I was too happy too soon.

"Mainly about what was going on at dinner tonight between you and Professor Snape." I slowly took a sip of my tea trying to drag out the silence for as long as possible before I said.

"Well, it's strange rather. Every time I would look up at the table he would immediately look at me whether I was looking at him or not and the time that you happen to notice he was actually looking at me first and I was glaring at him because I didn't like the way his eyes felt on me." He raised an eyebrow as he sipped on his tea which I can only imagine how much sugar he puts in it.

"Well. I'll make sure to ask him about it as well, seeing as though you are not the problem." I didn't know if I should take that as a good thing or if he was being sarcastic and trying to insult me. We talked about many other things until we both ran out of tea to drink. I said my goodbye to Dumbledore and made my way back to my dorm to hopefully get some good sleep instead of staying up until 3 am on a normal school day. After reading up a bit on the book Dumbledore gave me it was about 9 pm and about the time I should probably get to bed so I changed into my PJ's, but before I could get into bed I heard a hoot and a screech coming from my window and saw two owls with letters in their becks. One I could tell was Dumbledore's, but the other one I wasn't sure. They both flew in my window as soon as I opened it and I gave them both a biscuit. Dumbledore's owl took it nice and gently whereas the other jumped back from my hand a bit and took it a bit aggressively, but it didn't phase me. It was strange rather I knew that owls took on the personality of their owner and it was clear that this owl was Dumbledore's. It was the most humble owl I had ever seen, but the other one, it was hard to pinpoint it's behaviour to a person, but as soon as I picked up the letter it had been told to give to me I knew right away by the handwriting. It was Snape's owl, which made sense since it really wasn't good with people and wasn't nice when I gave it something to make it happy. I opened Dumbledore's letter first to spare me what might be in Snape's letter, probably just some insults about my marks and wanting me for detention. Within Dumbledore's letter he told me that there was an opportunity within a few weeks I can sigh up for apparition lessons if I felt the need to learn something they don't teach in classes.

I thought about it and decided that it would probably be nice to know how to travel without spending money and whatnot. I then opened Snape's letter, but before I could read past the first two words, which were Dear Ms. Jones, Dumbledore's owl snatched it out of my hands and flew out my window.

"Hey! What the hell?!" I leaned out the window to see where it headed and it went right to his office I cursed yet again under my breath and Snape's owl landed right next to me on the window frame and hooted at me. It flew off back to the Owlery and it was at that point that the day of boredom and chasing after Snape into the Dark Forest was really starting to catch up to me and I was ready to sleep.

**** Sometime within the night ****

I found myself awake in my dorm and a deep feeling in my chest that I needed to get out of the common room and wait for someone. I don't know who, but my heart was pounding in fear, but also something else. I couldn't tell what it was, but had to have been the driving force to me jumping out of bed and barely even landing my feet on the stairs to get out of the common room. As soon as I entered to cold, dark hallway outside of the Slytherin house, my feet stopped themselves. I could not tell you what I was feeling, but it felt right to run to the potions classroom, something felt wrong. My heart seemed to feel shattered, but I hadn't gone through something that would make me feel this way so I had come to the conclusion that this must be a vision of some sort or maybe something that I was being told to avoid. Sometimes the castle ghosts or different spirits would show me things that they knew would happen as a warning or something rather.

While thinking about what this dream could mean I found myself running through the dark halls, sometimes hitting a wall if I really wasn't paying attention. Soon I found the classroom and had the feeling that I needed to run inside and find or stop whoever was in there, I stopped myself to think first and to also prepare myself for what I might find. It could be me dying or someone I love, or it could have something to do with death eaters since they seem to be more active this time of the year, soon I found myself pushing open both doors and seeing nobody in the room, it looked like it was set ready for a class to start brewing some potions, but something in the back of my head told me to not take one step in the room. I knew that whatever I was being told through this dream wasn't going to have me stop them from showing me the warning so as I stopped myself from taking another step I felt a push on my lower back sending me a few feet into the room with nothing in it. I was confused for a bit then I jumped when the doors closed very quickly behind me slamming shut and making me turn around.

As I looked to see what could've caused them to close I saw Snape standing in the corner watching me with his wand out. Anything could happen to me and this could be anytime within the future, it could be right when I wake up, near the end of the year or maybe years from now. He slowly pointed his wand at me and suddenly I felt myself be pulled from my body so I could watch what will happen, this normally happens when the spirits don't want me to mess up their warning.

"I don't want to do this to you Emily, but I have to."

"What are you talking about Severus?" I said in a very stern voice clearly shaken up by something that had happened before this moment and I saw his eyes start to form tears.

"You know that this is how it has to be." He pointed his wand right at my head and was trying to make it seem like whatever he was talking wasn't affecting him, but with the tears in his eyes, it couldn't confuse me. I stepped forward and started to say that made more sense to me now that I was listening in to the conservation future me and Snape were having.

"You can't do this Sev, please!" Now I could hear my own voice cracking as I started to cry.

"We can't do this Emily, it's not right."

"I know you don't care about that, please Severus don't do this to me!" I was now shouting at him and my chest started to get heavier and heavier with pain that I wasn't familiar with.

"We can't be together Ms. Jones. I'm too dangerous for you to be around." Now I was finally catching on to what was happening.

'How far in the future is this?' I asked the spirit who was standing behind me watching my vision with me.

'Only a few months from now, please pay attention. This could change your life if you don't understand what you need to change in the next few months of your life.' I looked back at both of the crying people in front of me. Tears were now flowing down my face and I was begging Snape to stop whatever he was about to do.

"Emily, please don't do that, we have no choice."

"Sev, what makes you think that erasing my memory will make things better?! We've both been broken before, let me help you!"

"No!" He stumbled on his next few words as he realized that future me recoiled back to his loud demand.

"Being around me will get you killed, I can't have another person I love fall fate to death by Voldemort." In that moment things started to slow down like you would see in a movie to make things more intense, I jumped at him to grab his wand, but I was too late. Soon a light blue almost clear burst of colour came out of the end of Snape's wand and had hit my head. Then after a couple of seconds the tears stopped flowing and I dropped to the ground unconscious. Snape bent down and brushed my hair out of my face and kissed the top of my head. Soon he picked me up and that's where everything stopped.

**** 10am the next morning ****

My eyes opened to the bright light coming through my window and the sound of tapping on my window. I groaned out loud when I noticed it was Dumbledore's owl probably going to lecture me about not eating at breakfast like he would sometimes. I let the owl in and gave him a biscuit again just like last night. I took the letter from his beck and frowned at him.

"Why did you have to take that letter hmm?" He tilted his head and me and then flew off my window. I sighed opening up the wrapped parchment and only read the few words that were written down which said,

Dear, Ms. Jones,

Please come down to my office as soon as you get this.

Also, Pitts told me that he was getting sick of having to feed you about an hour after breakfast so please try to get to The Great Hall on time.

Best Regards,

Dumbledore

I sighed and honestly was planning on telling his owl to drop it in the Black Lake, but in my head it felt important to go to so I just decided to burn it.

"Ugh, why does he have to know about everything I do in this place." I got out my wand and cast a spell to make the paper float and then watched it as it turned into charcoal then I got into the shower and put on some basic grunge clothes and headed to the Headmaster's office, not even going to go to get food this time and maybe upset Dumbledore a bit more now that I'm not showing up on time, but I'm not even eating. I laughed to myself as I got to his office, but before I could knock on the door, I heard him talking to someone very faintly then some yelling from Snape which I honestly don't think anyone could miss, and then back to the faint voice of Dumbledore probably trying to convince him that something to do with the death eaters isn't a problem when it most likely is. I leaned my ear against the door to listen in, but I didn't get much information when Dumbledore said,

"Well if you're looking for some company I believe some has just arrived. Come in Emily." I slowly opened the door and walked in saying to myself, but loud enough that they both could hear me.

"Well, that's a little creepy." Dumbledore smiled and Snape just took a step or two back from his desk as I got closer to talk to him.

"You know I was very tempted to just throw away your letter and say I never got it." He picked up his wand, moved it in some kind of cycle shape and said something very faintly under his breath and we watched as the paper I had burned not too long ago somehow un-burned its self and was in perfect condition. I stood there feeling like he was mocking me in some way just to get at my nerves, but I didn't let it show on my face, I also saw Snape shuffle a bit before Dumbledore spoke again.

"Well, it actually has to do with you two." He said placing his gaze on Snape. I couldn't help, but connect this moment to something in my vision from last night. He then looked back at me.

"I don't know if you had read the letter Professor Snape sent you last night, but I-" I very quickly cut him off by saying,

"No, I didn't even get past my name when your owl snatched it out of my hands and flew away."

"Oh, I see, well I did read it on my own time last night and-"

"I thought you said that basic letters don't need to be checked, and any teacher letters to students have no need to be checked," Snape said crossing his arms as he hid in the shadows of the Headmaster's office. I was confused as to why he was reacting this way, but honestly I have had this kind of response also to Dumbledore when he just takes something that was meant for something else and then moves around either is own rules or words that have come straight from your own mouth, kind of pissing you off in the moment.

"Well, if we are here to talk about what was in the letter, don't you think that it might be a good idea for me to read it?"

"Oh, no there will be no need, I have already disposed of it." Snape frowned and said back with words that I would use in this case,

"Didn't you just bring back a burned letter from thin air?" Dumbledore was trying to find the fact that he had messed up with that one, but found a way around it.

"That letter was written by me, therefor it wasn't hard to track-"

"Okay, whatever, it doesn't matter, I'm sure both of you can just tell me instead of being so cryptic about it, which by the way has made me very curious as to what was in that letter, and I won't give up until I hear about it." I too crossed my arms looking at Dumbledore and waited for him to respond. He leaned forward on his desk like he was about to tell me and Snape was glaring at him as I had never seen him do before. If any words came out of some mouth I was afraid he was going to jump at him.

"It wasn't my own written letter and not mine to share, so if Severus would like to tell you about what was in that letter, that is his choice. And with that I think it is time for tea, care to join? Either of you?" Dumbledore sat back in his chair and waved a pot of tea over and poured himself a cup.

"Oh no Professor, I'm more then alright, I have some things to attend to, like that book you lent me," I said turning around to leave his office trying not to keep begging about what was in the letter.

"Alright then, Severus? Would you like some?" He said offering him an already filled cup.

"No Headmaster, I'm quite alright as it is." He got out of the office faster than I could, passing me before I had even got to the door and he basically ran down the stairs. I stopped myself knowing that now might be a good time to ask Dumbledore a good question.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, was anything in the letter really that important to call us both here?" He raised an eyebrow at me and then smiled as he said,

"Yes, everything in the letter has a great deal to Professor Snape, and I think it is best if you try not to push it out of him. Getting any kind of information out of him unless he trusts you is not easy and can end badly. If he wishes to tell you, it will take some time since I already seemed to have messed up this chance to tell you." I nodded slowly at his words and quickly said my thanks to him as I left his office. I wasn't normally one to be confused or spend time around the professors here at Hogwarts, so this was something very new for me and strangely enough every time I think about that letter, I think that maybe the fact that I didn't get to read it leads me away from the bad vision I had, but probably not for long.

For the next few days nothing had happened, I hung out with some Slytherin friends, Dumbledore seems to be getting angry at me for not eating breakfast and only staying in my room for most of the day, and of course, the Weasley twins have pulled some pretty good pranks on Filch or Flitwick. Today I had decided that since everyone was having fun on Christmas Eve it might be a good idea to head down to Hogsmeade and maybe spend some time at the Hogshead and see my good ole friend fire whiskey again. I put on some winter clothes and made my way down the snow-covered trail and was happy to see that the place was basically empty from a couple of adults who actually lived in the area. I walked into the bar and ordered a large glass of fire whiskey I wasn't planning on getting drunk, but tipsy was alright. After a glass or two I noticed someone sit down beside me and it was Snape. He also got a fire whiskey which he downed like it was nothing and ordered another about to down it as well until I said,

"Do you drink that for the taste or does it make you drunk faster?" He stopped drinking the toxic mixture and placed it down next to mine looking over to me and asked me,

"Aren't you too young to be here drinking?" Trying not to take that as an insult I answered his question,

"Well in America we are actually kept in school a lot longer than here in Europe so technically if I was back home, yes, but here no, I'm about two years older then anybody else in my year. I actually just turned 20 with my birthday, but honestly, I was already drinking before I even hit 16." I took a big drink from my glass and Snape kept asking questions and I kept answering them, most of them were about life as a witch in America where they don't really feel the need to be nice to women let alone in the magic world over there. That's one of the reasons my family moved over here and it has been a lot better for everyone, well, maybe Filch could live without me. About an hour past of us asking each other questions and I could tell that the only reason that we were actually talking to each other was the alcohol that made us both way bolder to talk to each other than normal. As I stood up to go the bathroom some older man walking by grabbed my ass and gave it a good slap, which in return sent a shock wave to my brain telling my hands to make a fist and aim for his head, hitting right on his jaw. I couldn't tell you why that happened, but maybe you can figure out why. I pushed him down to the ground and kneeled down to him, still very tipsy, and said,

"The next time you mess with a woman it might just be the end of their wand casting a curse upon you." He grunted and slapped me across the face and stood up as I rubbed the numbing flesh on my face ready to throw fists with this perv.

"Well, maybe you women should spend some time cooking instead of wasting your time on the man's job." That was it, this man was already in for it hitting my tipsy ass, but now I felt completely sobered up and ready to put this man in his place. A spell would be too easy for him so I gave Snape my wand and rushed this guy sending us both flying over a table knocking over other people drinks and angering those drunk people which lead into a brawl that I was gladly starting. Soon many people were fighting for no reason really they just starting throwing fists. The guy I had punched earlier had tried to hit me over the head with a chair, but I caught it and pulled it from him and jabbed him with it then threw it away hitting someone else in the head. Then I put all of my energy into my arm and throw my fist straight into his jaw causing it to crack or maybe that was my hand. Anyway, after that, I felt a hand grab me by my shoulder and pull me out of the bar. I didn't realize how much I was breathing and grabbed my hand which was now bleeding from the fighting I was doing and it was nearly impossible to ignore the pain that was deep my wrist. I heard the door slammed behind me and I turned around to see Snape sighing at seeing my stat and he handed me my wand which I slid back into my boot. He started to walk back to the castle and I followed him on his side. We didn't talk for a good minute or two, but when I winced in pain and brought my bloody and sore hand up into sight Snape stopped and grabbed his wand out looking at my hand he said,

"Let me heal that for you." I moved my hand closer to his and he very gently held it and quietly cast a healing spell and poured a potion on it to stop the bleeding. I was so shocked that he was so calm and gentle with the wounds that I asked him,

"Why not be a doctor instead of a teacher dealing with children?" He kept focused on my wounds as he mended them and then responded with,

"I said that I would do anything for Dumbledore if he protected-" He cut himself off and continued with,

"Never mind why, but I probably wouldn't fit in a hospital environment." He looked down to see that he was still holding my hand and pulled it away from me quickly. He then looked at me in whole and said,

"You forgot your jacket back there. Here, take my cloak." He wrapped it around me, making me feel a little odd, but I put it aside and said to him,

"There is no way you can say that when you just fixed my probably broken and bloody wrist." He shrugged and started to walk again slipping his hands in his pockets. We walked back to the school in a good, nice silence that was honestly quite calming and I could tell that neither of us were tipsy anymore and I think he was starting to realize his behaviour when he was tipsy and was starting to act sterner and not fun or friendly like earlier, but he wasn't talking. It showed in his walking and posture for sure. By the time we hit the courtyard he stopped, turned to me and said in a nicer manner than I thought he would,

"I noticed that your marks in Potions and DADA are a little lower than past years, so, if you maybe want some help, I can take some time for you to practice in the potions room." I was a little taken back by this, but I was kinda happy he asked since it was no lie, my marks had been getting worse for the past two months. I smiled up at him and said,

"I'm very happy to take that offer thank you." He nodded and started to walk away at his normal fast pace leaving me alone in the courtyard with the heavy wind blowing which reminded me that I had his cloak, and he left without it. It was probably the better thing to do if I found him and gave it back, but something in me told me to keep it. So I did. Making my way back to the common room I found myself thinking about the professor a lot and sometimes I would have to snap myself out of some deep thoughts. It was just so easy to remember the warmth coming from his hand as my hand was cold with blood, and how gentle he was at placing his cloak over my shoulders willing to be cold just so I, the stupid girl who started a bar fight, didn't have to be. I made it back to the common room without any mishap, but I didn't even realize that some students might question why I was sitting on the couch reading a book with a cloak that was clearly way too big for me. I realized hadn't it might look weird or suspicious of something to others that this clearly wasn't mine and you could really tell it wasn't mine since I don't wear normal witch clothes unless it is completely needed like class, but then I still wear something grunge-like, maybe a choker or something. So this was in no way normal and I didn't notice until Murphy sat down beside me and asked me about it.

"Oh... well... It's nothing to worry about." It was very clear that he wasn't convinced and honestly, it wasn't that good because even I frowned at my response.

"Okay, well if there is a random bad boy that fits your status that you are suddenly with, I wanna hear about it." I nodded as he left me alone and I took that as my queue to get out of the common room before more people see and start to spread rumours about who's cloak it is. Once I got to my dorm I continued to read on the book Dumbledore let me use and tried to practice some easy things, but after about an hour of that, no luck. I sighed and fell down on my bed looking up at the plain roof of my room. I was once told by my parents that if you are trying to learn some new magic it is best to have a clear mind and ever since I started reading this book nothing has been sticking in my head. I didn't think that my mind was clouded with anything, but then as I grabbed the corner of Snape's cloak that I was still wearing It clicked with me. Ever since I got this book something to do with him has been in the way. That's why I can't do even do simple spells that I should be able to do if I've been reading it every night. Snape was getting in my way of learning this magic, and honestly, I wasn't wrong. Since that vision, everything that I do, every thought, seems to come back to him.

"Fuck me." Was the last thing I said before I ended up taking an afternoon nap. I didn't get another vision, but all throughout the night randomly I would hear Snape's voice and I could see him in front of me, most things were memories of us walking about to the castle today. Being a very light sleeper dreams came pretty quickly and even though I can't help it sometimes I wish I could just be able to sleep through a huge thunderstorm, but with my luck, I will always wake up.

**** Christmas Day ****

I woke up and heard people talking down stairs about something and I wasn't too happy that the screaming first and second years that got to stay here had already ruined my day by waking me up at... wait, what time is it? I glanced over to the clock on the wall and saw that it was 5 am. The sun hadn't even begun to shine on the lake yet. I mumbled some swear words to myself and put on some basic black muggle clothes. Before I left my room though through my mirror I saw Snape's cloak lying on one of the chairs in my room. I thought about grabbing it, but I remembered how Murphy reacted yesterday and decided that it probably wasn't a good idea to bring it out, even if my instincts told me to, I went without it. I made my way out of the dorm halls and to the common room where if any of them decided to be loud around me I would tell them to shut up and stop freaking out about getting gifts. Christmas isn't even about getting gifts, people have just turned it into stupid fun happy sit down with family thing only a little while ago. Before it was about drunk people crashing parties that happened in the woods, in the middle of the night. And then it was about people in lower-class incomes breaking into stores and causing riots, this clearly isn't the Christmas we have now and my parents aren't ones to celebrate and honestly, I'm completely fine with that knowing that the real Christmas was actually probably a lot more fun than it is now.

By the time I got to the common room, most people were done opening their gifts and just talking as a couple of of sixth years had already yelled at them and left the room without even checking if they got any gifts. I was about to do the same since nobody would ever send me gifts, even my closest friends know that, but before I could take a step past the tree a younger student stopped me by saying,

"Aren't you going to open your present Jones?" I stopped dead in my tracks and looked ot the younger girl who was sitting on the ground and I responded with,

"I don't get presents okay? My family doesn't do Christmas like the rest of you, so they don't send anything." I started to walk again, but before I could leave they spoke again asking,

"But then who left you this one?" I turned around and saw her holding a small gift wrapped in black wrapping paper with some kind of glossy design on it that I honestly couldn't tell what it was. I gently grabbed it from her hand and sure enough, when I read who it was for, my name was on it, but there was no other name telling me who sent it. There was no way it was my parents who sent it, they would never and none of my friends would, hell even Dumbledore knows I don't do Christmas. This was strange indeed and I could tell that everyone in the room was curious so even though I wanted to throw it into the fire, I pulled myself together and opened it very carefully not to rip the paper and underneath it was a plain gray box with two latches that held it closed. I placed it down on a nearby table got ready to open it and as I looked around I saw everyone watching like it was some kind of miracle and it made me chuckle at how easily I could probably make them do things. I slowly opened the box not knowing what could it be, it could be a prank from someone, but my mind was convinced that someone was trying to be nice. When it opened there was a thin sheet of black tissue paper covering whatever was inside and at this point, I was starting to think that it was some kind of jewelry. As I pulled it away everyone seemed to move closer to get a good look so I stopped and said to them,

"Seriously? you don't see me pecking over all of your shoulders when you open something." They all gave a guilty look and went back to their things and started to talk with each other as I opened it without having anyone look at what I got. At the bottom of the box was a lace black choker. At first, I had no idea who could've sent me this gift, but it was obvious after looking at the book that was underneath the choker. The only two people who could've given me an advanced book on potions that weren't taught at Hogwarts were either Dumbledore or Snape. Dumbledore wouldn't just give me this unless I showed a lot of interest in the topic, so that leaves the only person who could've given these things to me which was Snape. We had talked about potions on the way back to the castle and about how I wanted to learn about more potions so it was very clear that he had sent me this gift. The only question is how did he get his hands on this kind of accessory so quickly? He couldn't have been planning on giving this to me weeks before could he? And if he did intend on giving it to me, why? He had never really spoken to me besides telling me my potions were either shit or kind of okay in class. Yesterday was the only time we had talked and we were tipsy off our asses until I started that fight. I couldn't wrap my head around it so I closed the box and put the book on my shelf and threw on my new choker. I knew that it was too early for Christmas breakfast to start, but I had nothing better to do so I threw Snape's cloak on finally not really caring about what people might think and made my way to the Great Hall. Walking through the halls I knew that Filch was probably walking around with Ms. Norris so I had to be careful that he didn't catch me since I wasn't in the mood to deal with him.

As soon as I made it to the Hall there were a couple house elves who were getting ready for breakfast and didn't seem to be bothered by me. I took a seat down right close to the teachers' table and waited for everyone else to get here. After about half an hour most of the teachers had arrived and were watching the small number of students arriving in the Hall probably holding their new presents with them. Right before Dumbledore was about to make his usual Christmas speech Snape came through the back staff door right by his spot and sat down waiting for Dumbledore like the rest of us. Naturally, most students knew that it was him and didn't look up, but for some reason I did and almost right away as he was sitting down we made eye contact, at this point I was gently playing with my gift around my throat which he got me and I guess me touching it brought his attention to the fact that I was wearing it. Not only did I realize that, but I noticed he had a different cloak on today and I was trying hard to remember why and then I felt like a complete idiot wearing his normal cloak that people would probably notice was missing from him and on me. I knew that most people probably just thought I might have had a change in style today, but some people weren't that easy to shoo off, mainly people who didn't like me aka the whole Ravenclaw house.

After a few seconds of me lost in my thoughts I realized that we were still looking at each other and Snape was clearly paying attention to the fact that I still had his cloak on and was wearing it out public. He probably thought that I might be trying to make a scene, but before he could show panic on his face Dumbledore tapped on his glass and was looking right at me and smiled at me. He wasn't that daft so he probably right away noticed the cloak and the fact that it wasn't mine, considering that it was huge on me. I dropped my head trying not to look suspicious about anything and started to play with my choker again clearly that had to be a sign that I was nervous about something, I did that a lot. As Dumbledore spoke I was focused on trying not to make eye contact with him or Snape which was kind of hard, to be honest. I don't think that there is a way to explain how cornered I felt in that moment even though it was the biggest room in the whole school, I felt like everyone was watching me and for once, being a popular student was not fun. My heart started to race and I wasn't sure that my nerves were the problem, but rather the fact that I needed to get out of there. I scanned the room again and locked eyes with Snape, I didn't want to, but it felt like someone was holding my head in his direction and keeping me focused on him. I tried to break free, but I couldn't I knew that this wasn't just me being me, someone was in my head, I could feel them poking around trying to get into my main thoughts. To my surprise, they were very strong and everything around me seemed to fade out like it was only me and my thoughts in the world. I couldn't keep them out forever so I decided if they wanted to hurt me they couldn't get away with it while I was surrounded by people so I let them in. When they were in nothing happened. My body wasn't moving, on its own, I only heard the breathing of someone else which was weird, but then I heard a faint, deep voice ask me,

"Are you alright? You look hyper pale?" I was beyond confused and then decided if they only wanted to ask questions they didn't need to be in my mind so I attacked them with walls to close them off and to my surprise, again, they didn't fight. I blinked my eyes a bit as Dumbledore's voice started to fade back as he spoke the last few words of his speech, everything felt weird at the moment afterwards. I was still looking at Snape who's expression seemed soft, but then as quickly as I saw it, he was back to his normal grumpy self. I took my eyes away from him feeling very odd after that, not really knowing what to do, but eat my food and get out of there. I was still feeling nervous and when I went to grab a piece of toast, I noticed that whoever was talking to me was right. My skin looked like someone just poured bleach all over me, but I didn't let it phase me. I got some food into me and left the Great Hall as soon as I was done, not waiting for any of my friends to follow me. For the next few hours, things felt weird to me and I felt like every time I was outside of my common room someone was trying to get back in my head which kinda freaked me out because no students can use Occlumency so it had to have been an adult, but no teacher in their right mind would do that and also I doubt any teachers are actually as good as this person was, so maybe it was someone who isn't meant to be in the school. That got me worried and I decided that it was probably for the best to let Dumbledore know. He was probably in his office, but just to make sure that I didn't disturb him if he was busy I just decided to send him a letter. It was a very quick one that got straight to the point and wasn't too long.

I wrapped the parchment in a ribbon-like string and gave it to my owl, Honey. She's a tiny barn owl and seems to like to follow me around almost everywhere I go which is nice. I told her to bring it to Dumbledore right away and she flew off my arm and went looking for him. I, on the other hand, decided that it would probably not be a good idea to go back to the Hogshead after yesterday so I decided to go get that book Snape got me and read it outside of the common room so I was away from the lonely first years who only stayed in the common room besides for classes and meals. After finding a good spot against the wall I started to invest my thoughts into the fact about some of the potions that were written in the book. After good 20 minutes into reading about Garrotting Gas, a potion the induces choking and possibly suffocates the taker.

"Damn, that sounds like my kind of potion." Almost right after that Snape happened to walk by and notice that I was reading from his book. He stopped in front of me and watched me as I read before I looked up once I noticed he was there. I smiled at him and he then asked me,

"I see that you're enjoying the gifts I gave you. Which one seems to have caught your eye?"

"The Garrotting Gas, I feel like it's probably something I would use even though I would probably get caught using it, but whatever." He smirked a little bit and waved for me to follow him to his class. I brought the book with me and walked into the classroom after him and placed the book down at my normal desk. Snape went back into the ingredients room so I got the pot ready for potion brewing and soon enough he came out with arms full of different things, some I hadn't seen before which was a little odd. He placed them down in order of use and wrote down the steps on the board which he moved to be in front of me. He then added a small amount of water and slowly started adding the ingredients and preparing them for the potion all while talking and letting me know what things not to do while making this potion like walking away from it. It wasn't one of those potions that need to boil for a while, it was a quick to make potion that could go wrong very quickly if you aren't paying attention.

As he was teaching me about it I was writing down things he told me to remember and as I watched him things seemed to be really nice at the moment. Just him and I brewing a potion that probably could kill us if one thing went wrong. I liked this a lot more than normal class since he is normally yelling at someone, but right now he was being really calm and talked in a very soft voice which I don't think anybody here has heard before. It made me smile at the fact that he was probably happy to teach me something and was happy to see that someone else was just as invested in potions as he was. He seemed to be very focused on the potion at the moment where I had taken a step back and just watched him stir all the ingredients together. At the moment everything seemed to slow down again and fade away just like when that person was in my mind, this time I was calm and didn't even fight back when they got in my head, I just simply asked,

"What do you want?" There was some silence before I heard the voice again this time a lot louder and closer than I thought it was going to be and the voice that I heard in my head made me jump back a bit.

"You seem to be lost in thought," Severus said in my mind. Soon I found my breathing picking up again just like when he did it before, but he tried to calm me down.

"I was shocked to see that you had a natural talent in Occlmency, most students can't do that." I was still acting dumbfounded as he spoke and I think he realized because he then left my mind without saying anything and turned around in front of me just to look at me. I tried not to look so shocked, but it was kind of hard not to when I thought that it was someone bad who was getting into my head when really it was just Severus trying to find the source of the other person who was emitting their talent that I'm sure he had too.

"Are you going to watch me finish the potion?" He said in his soft voice again sounding very different from in my head which caught me a little off guard. I walked closer to him and said,

"Oh, yea." I stood beside him as he finished the potion, but it was hard to stay focused with what just happened. I wasn't as confused as you may think, in fact, it was kind of nice knowing that he seemed to care for me, but then again it was strange. Severus doesn't care for students so either someone is pretending to be him or something extra strange is going on here. I wasn't going to push it, but I knew that Dumbledore could've asked him to be nice to me for something. Then I remembered something Dumbledore told me a couple ago.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, was anything in the letter really that important to call us both here?" He raised an eyebrow at me and then smiled as he said,

"Yes, everything in the letter has a great deal to Professor Snape, and I think it is best if you try not to push it out of him. Getting any kind of information out of him unless he trusts you is not easy and can end badly. If he wishes to tell you, it will take some time since I already seemed to have messed up this chance to tell you."

Almost right away it seemed to click with me. Severus was probably trying to tell me something important, maybe about himself or about me, but it wasn't clear at this moment what it would be, but I had a feeling that this was a step closer to what he wanted to tell me. We then put the potion into bottle and as he was cleaning up he asked me to put them away on the top shelf on the right near the other small potion bottle. As I opened the door and climbed up the ladder it became very clear that I had no idea what I was doing.

"Top shelf on the right. Okay, well this is the top shelf on the right, but I don't see any other bottles." After looking for a couple of minutes I think I had found what I was looking for, but it was so far away I thought that I might fall. I honestly probably missed judging the distance and moved onto the far side of the ladder step, stretched out to place it, but the ladder wasn't completely bolted onto the top of the shelf and I lost my balance. For a second I thought that maybe I could just easily center my weight so I could balance, but I was wrong. My foot slipped and I was falling from the highest part of the ladder. I let out a small screeched but found myself not on the hard floor, but in someone's arms. Not to my surprise Severus was the one who caught me and had a smile on his face when I looked at him, he said to me,

"I knew something was wrong when it started to take you more than a couple minutes to put them away." I could feel my face become very flush and there was no way that I could hide it from him. I knew that he was watching me even when I wasn't looking and I was a little shocked as to why he still had me in his arms bridal style and I think that he noticed and walked out of the closet doorway to set me down in front of his desk. Once he did he pulled his hands away from me pretty quickly and put them in his pockets, I knew that he would hate to hear this, but he definitively turned a bit pink at the cheeks. He leaned in towards me, but only to grab the book he had gifted me that was on my left. As he was leaning though I could smell this cologne and it was something that I probably would have found attractive on a guy and... wait did I really just say that? Ugh, what is happening to me?

Once he moved away from me my thoughts were back to normal, but I could tell that he weren't. He seemed to be lost looking at my face. He then locked eyes with me and for a few seconds nothing happened, then he moved a fraction closer and everything seemed to become sharper, the iris' of his eyes lit up with colour, I could sense his body heat, and the stitches of his robes became more detailed. My heart rate seemed to slow with everything around me and I found myself drawn to his lips more than anything and it looked like he was drawn to mine. Within a few seconds, we both seemed to move closer causing our lips to collide. It was almost like I had just jumped off a cliff and was still falling, all my thoughts seemed to close around this one moment. Soon he brought his right hand up to my cheek and hid a few fingers behind my ear drawing me ever so closer to him. I then found my body jolt with energy and soon my hands shot up to grab his hair. He pushed more passionately against my lips causing me to let out a small groan and then picked me up with his strong arms to then set me down onto his desk basically throwing the book away. My heart rate got faster and it seemed as though everything in the world had stopped and it was just him and I again. Nothing mattered more than this one moment. He then placed his hands on my hips and then both of my hands ended up placed on his shoulders gripping at his clothes trying to get him as close to me as possible. Everything started to get more intense and Severus started to get rough with me, but honestly, with me pulling at his hair, I was happy to have his lips crash violently against mine. Soon we had both run out of breath and he placed both of his hands on either side of me as I kept mine around his neck gently resting there as we took in some heavy breaths. He leaned his forehead against mine for a bit until he said,

"I don't think I've ever been this excited in a long time." I took in some deep breathes and decided that teasing him might be fun.

"I don't think anyone else could make me this excited," I said with a smirk planted on my face and grabbing his hips moving him closer to me. He smirked back at me and said back to me,

"I'm glad you like my gift." He placed his hand over the choker, moved my head back so my neck was exposed and was about to put press his lips on my neck when we heard someone slowly opening the door. I hopped down off of his desk quicker than I think I've ever moved out of the way of a rogue blugder. Madam Pomfrey slowly came through the door peeking her head in to see if anyone was in the room and as soon as she saw me she came into the room.

"Sorry if I interrupted your detention, but I was wondering, Severus, do you have any extra fairy wings?" He cleared this throat and before he could say anything I took that as my queue to go.

"Well, I think it's past my detention time, and Dumbledore said he wanted to see me around before lunch so I better head up there. Thanks for keeping me captive for a couple of hours Snape. Peace." I walked out of the classroom holding up my fingers in a peace sign and closed the door behind me. I let out a long sigh and leaned against the door trying to calm my nerves about what just happened. Then I decided maybe it was time to head back to my dorm and take a nap. I knew that what just happened with Severus wouldn't be the only time. I bet that over the next few days we would be seeing each other a lot more and I knew that he was going to try and get into my head more and more often, hopefully not distancing himself from me.

Any requests?

[hypnoticwinter]

SELFAGGRANDIZE PART II

They tell me I am the girl who went into the sea and came out undrowned, with seaweed and witch’s hair strangled around my throat and caught in my long wicker arms. They say I fought with death and bested it, that I keep whales for my kings and courtiers and that I let the squid leave its suckermarks on my neck from where we kissed and made up one drowsy evening (for all evenings are drowsy at the bottom of the ocean) and then laid together. The artists draw pictures of me, either demure and nice and lace-wearing or naked and being fucked senseless by octopi or mermen or great sweaty Dagon, one-eyed and elephantine and with a cock so big he can’t fit two-thirds of it into me. These last always make me laugh cause I’ve seen Dagon, I’ve held him in my arms and rocked him to sleep (he felt their motion much more easily than he felt the rocking of the waves, so far beneath the surface that the water is as solid as stone) and when it was time I put my hand in his mouth and extinguished him like we used to whip flies off the walls of our tent, back when we camped.

They tell me that I came out dripping wet and with a mouth like a shark’s, no, with eyes like a shark’s, big and black marbles rolling around in my skull, glossy and waterproof. They tell me that I have had to submerge myself in saltwater every day since or risk drying out and shriveling up and clunking to the floor like pumice, like Lot’s wife with a chunk taken out of her and thus losing stability and clattering to the ground and breaking apart. It was such a shame, too, for I knew the man who wielded the maul who knocked the chunk out and I knew Lot’s wife too, I knew all of them. I did not know god and I think he did not know me, for I looked back on Gomorrah and remained untransfigured – but perhaps all that could have been done to me already had been.

As you may suspect I am older than I look.

One man writes to me every week to tell me he loves me. I laugh and eat his letters and tell the little demons in my stomach to use the remains in the furnace (they pronounce it like a bad fake eye-talian, foornachey) to let me go on billowing smoke and steam and all sorts of excreta for another day. I have left my home and walk the streets at night but the men who stop me think I am what I am not. I look like one of the expensive women on television who wear outfits and sit on stages and promise ruin on each other but never follow through, but inside I am all carbon-fiber and folded anodized steel. I am clean enough to be used in surgery, although I have no clue what implement they would make of me. I have scalpel nights and breakneck days and long, wet, rainy afternoons that rust my stainlessness right through the lacquer my lover spread on me, to keep moisture from me.

I am deserts drowning themselves to keep from the rain; that is one line the man who writes to me wrote. About me, I mean, not about himself. I don’t pretend to know what he means – I can only feel, I can only put my tongue to the nerveless wires running through my body and feel the jolt like citrus, like adamant, like every sharp thing in the world at once. At night when I am supposed to sleep I sit up and watch the water rising outside my window and that old familiar darkness flooding into my world once again, and my body adapts so well it is a joy to watch my bones realign and pop into their sockets and flesh to expand and suddenly I am something with membrane and great fins and furls, something agile underwater but that can only die on land. Would they still want to fuck me, seeing me like this?

They tell me I usually go out right before the sun rises, to the old place where nothing grows, right on the edge of the city, before it all fades into desert, and I stare at the sun like it was somebody I used to know. They follow me, discretely, to make sure I don’t get into trouble. Usually I try to give them the slip and sometimes it works; when it does I run howling through back alleys, getting gore beneath my fingernails and around my mouth and letting my hair catch on lampposts and fences and all jutting things of the earth. I rocket off walls and spend my pent-up energy wisely and when I return I sleep like the dead and waken with innocent smiles and breath so sweet it falls like powdered sugar onto my chest.

I catch the sun in my claws and rend it to pieces every night, and that is why it is dark. The stars are just the bits I missed. I will get them all eventually.

They tell me I am beautiful; I do not see it. When I look at myself in the mirror I see dark eyes and hair like weeds and raven’s breath gusting from my half-open mouth. I see cheekbones like knives and teeth that come with promises attached, each one, and sharpness enough to fulfill. I want to say I am Botticelli-beautiful, that men love me, that women are envious of me, that I could make myself a living from sitting and looking pretty, but I cannot. Ever since I came out of the sea, they tell me, I have only made a living by ending the living, from the bacteria I exterminate in the depths of my furnaced gut or in the air-smelter of my lungs, from the animals I devour whole in order to sate my life-lust, to wire my nerves with the kill-thrill thus derived, from the men I murder with every sharp, sharp glance and leave sprawled on the sidewalks behind me as I walk on unmoved, scuttling on arthropod’s limbs, slithering with snake’s borrowed muscles, floating and flying and weaving every menace as I smile and smile and smile on.

They no longer exist, they tell me. They were in aid of me and now that I need them no longer, they melt. I tried to save them, little wee men, I put them in my freezer and turned it up full blast, but all that did was freeze their dissolving entrails and leave such a stink - !

They tell me I am the girl who went into the sea and came out undrowned, that I fought with death and bested him, but in that they are wrong, for I am just the girl who went into the sea and dreamed such dreams with her mind’s last iota of thinking electricity before my soul annealed itself and went missing for long, long, long, and now the stars are right and I find time to tell stories to their infants in nebula’s nursery.

 But that is only what they tell me.

[aradias-crypt]

Sinful Symphonies

{pt.2}

A disc leisurely floats to the phonograph in the corner of the room. Filling the chamber with music.

It wasn’t his normal choice, but it would do for today.

Black Hat leans back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment of rest. He didn’t require sleep or breaks, his body never tired like the mortals around him. He was always conscious of everything around him.

But to have a moment with just his glorious self was quite nice..

The melody drifts on.

The world quiets.

Just as bruises form on his body.

And as a dull throb reverberates in his head.

Damn it.

He growls and opens his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed as he cuts off the music with a snap of his fingers. With the moment gone, Black Hat examines his new injuries, though he knows they will fade soon.

The concept of a “soulmate” was not new to him, nor was the affect the bond could have on a pair.

It was quite the revelation when he discovered even he could have one. And for a while, he fancied the idea of having someone all to himself; someone only he could have for the rest of time and then some. But as his intended died and reincarnated he grew annoyed with the drawbacks.

They filled his mind with childish rhymes and songs, giving him scrapes and stupid little paper cuts. They interrupted his plans with out of sync humming. As they grew they went through constant phases and would repeat songs over and over! In one reincarnation, they even fell victim to poisoning and trampling in the same week!

How dare they interrupt his schedule with such pitiful mortal afflictions! He couldn’t even enjoy watching them suffer!

How could his soulmate- his equal! Be so vulnerable?!

A small squeak of gears and doors unlatching catches his attention as he digs his claws into the arms of his chair, green drool dripping from his clenched teeth. Releasing his grip of the chair, he leans back and crosses his legs. Once again under the guise of his “gentlemanly” persona.

“The doctor must be back.” His eye turns red as he connects his consciousness to a portrait downstairs, surveying the room for his lackeys. It was only recently that he acquired this minion, and while he showed some.. promise, the scientist still had yet to truly prove himself. Not that he could ever hope to reach his standards of perfection of course. He doubted if anyone could.

Strangely, there is no movement inside the manor.

He scowls,”Where are those imbeciles.”

Fully immersing himself into the portrait, Black Hat slips out of the canvas and saunters through the house in search of the source of the disturbance. It was likely the gates to the underground garage.

But unloading parcels was no excuse for checking in late!

A familiar melody fills his head causing him to stop walking for a second.

Fondu au noir, he believes. A humming accompanies the lyrics, faint, but enough to be noticed.

They were in sync this time, he thinks with a flutter of amusement.

.

.

.

He grunts, a deep scowl once again on his face as he continues his trek downstairs. Of course they would have bad timing once again, filling his mind with nonsense.

Standing before the doors, he slips through into the garage. Black Hat is greeted by the sight of his subordinates hog tied atop of the car. The bots in the front seats are either dismantled or completely decimated with scorch marks on their plating. The merchandise however, is all in one piece.

‘Lucky doctor.’ Black Hat lifts a brow, his face unamused.

Flug gulps, sweat dripping down the paper bag covering his head,”H-Hello m-my lord!”

Demencia squeals,”Sweetie!”

A twitch of his eye.

The merchandise was there, but his reputation was stained.

Failure.

Absolute. Failure.

“S-Sir..?”

“Its all under control, you said,” Black Hat chuckles, his shadow climbing the wall and expanding,”Its as good as done.” Membranous wings snap from his back as Black Hat roars; his flesh peels back, exposing his gums and fluorescent green teeth, the smell of rot fills the air.

“Ŵ̨̥̞̭͇͉͖̠̑̀̑̉͊͠͠A̡̘͙͓̞͈̐̍̌̍̋͘Ŝ̛͕̫͖͖͞͝ ̦̻̱̤̓̈̋͝Ṯ̛̹͈͔̖̘̗̼̲̃̐̋̆̽̈́͘̚H̢̡͍̼͖̱̯̳̗̝̀͒̅̄̎͋̂̇̃̚Ã̡̢̧̻͍̝̖̠͊̉͊̽̃́͝T͙͛ ̧̜͎̠̹͎̪̀̽͑̌̑̃̎̇͜Ṅ͉̼̝̽͝Ơ̩T̨̬͑̋͜͝ ̥̳̎͋͘͜W̛̬̜̭̟̰̘͕̥̺̽̀̍̅͒͛͑̕͜͠Ĥ̼̟̆͜͞Ą̛̭̮̝͕̫̖̗̞̦̾̃̅͊̑́̓͝͠T̛̼̟̰͖̋̓̇͘ͅ ̨̬̣̳̹̀͛͛̾͡Y̨̧͕̻̝̳̞̝̯͐͑̃͂̀̂̈̒̕͠ͅO̲̦̬͕͍͆̐͌̓͞U ̨̻̺̯̖̟̣̰͂̆̀̓̊͋́͗͛͜T̢̹̼̖̩̞̙͙͐͛̓̓̽̏̔̏͜͠Ò̢̮̙͑͞L͔̖̜̑͛͗D͙̕ ̤̿M͕͉̹̑̓̐̃͟Ê̬̠̺̈͌?̹͈͕͈͙̣͙̅̄̀͐̄̋͂̕͢!̟̜̘́̍͡”

Flug whimpers, curling in on himself as much as he could with his limbs bound,”Y-Yes but you s-see Lord Black Hat-“

“W̡̮̣̼̰͙̾̀̈̏͆̽͢͝H̩͒́͢AT̢̫̖̐̈͐!”

“Avillaingotinourway!”

He snarls,”They are like any other enemy doctor, you take them down!”

“It was a Horseman, sir! They took us down after destroying the Hat-Bots!”

Black Hat pauses.

Flug trembles, waiting for his masters response while Demencia watches adoringly.

.

.

.

“A little Horseman you say?”

“Y-Yes sir.”

Black Hat chuckles and swipes a clawed finger to release the two from their bonds. Leaning closer to Flug he drags a sharp digit across the scientist’s goggles,”I will give you one chance to remedy your little SLIP UP!”

Flug flinches.

Black Hat grins, embracing his flair for the theatrical as the lights die out. Leaving his sickening grin and piercing eye the only light sources in the room.

”Bring them to me.”

———————

Once you got home, you immediately turned on your radio and fell asleep. Sleep means you don’t have to acknowledge the aching in your body.

Pain, or dreams of fireplaces, cats, and fresh bread?

Dreams of course.

But a harsh rapping at the door not hours later, pulls you from your sleep.

You stretch your arms above your head, sighing in pleasure as your sore joints pop. You lay back down to continue sleeping. Screw whoever’s at the door, you want your sleep.

The knocking grows louder, soon turning into insistent banging.

You groan, sitting back up,“I’m going!” You huff,”No need to be so pushy.” Grabbing a pair of brass knuckles from a ceramic vase on the small table by your couch, you stuff your hand into your pocket before unlocking the door and removing the deadbolt.

Swinging open the door, you are met with the sight of Pestilence leaning on the doorway with wide eyes. Death looks everywhere but you and War cradles a fallen potted tree in his arms. Conquest is the only normal one with his hands in his suit pockets.

They’re all dressed nicely, you realize with a small hum.

Conquest smiles softly and waves,”Hey sorella.”

You smile back, waving with the brass knuckles on,”Hey Connie.” Quirking a brow at War, you look to the rest of your siblings,”So. You came to vandalize my plant or my fridge?”

Death grins, signing rapidly,”Wine cellar. War can have the tree.”

“Proceed,” you motion to War as you sign to Death,”This is Why I can't have nice things.” You roll your eyes.

War rightens the tree as the three siblings walk inside, each one giving you a kiss on the cheek or small pat on the shoulder. In the family, a normal hello would work like when you were all kids. But in the family, respect was to be shown when entering the house of any member of the clan. even siblings.

Either way, you really missed these guys. Often they were back at the home base in Calamni with the matriarch and a good chunk of the family. While you weren’t shunned from returning after choosing to enroll in college full time rather than villainy, neither side could visit the other frequently.

“Sooo whatcha up to punk?” Pesty plops herself onto the couch, grinning at Death who heads straight to the kitchen.

You lean on the wall,”Well I was finishing up my art degree but seeing as how the building was destroyed that plan is on hiatus for now.”

“So you were at the collapse.” Conquest sits on the loveseat by the window, he taps his fingers uneasily,”Nonna said you might’ve been the one spotted in the area.”

“I was,” You confess,”But I dealt with the problem, I didn’t start it.”

War let’s out a booming laugh,”No need to defend yourself half pint, we’re not here to accuse you.”

“So you’re really just here for my food?”

Oh don’t you feel loved.

Death walks out from around the corner, a platter of cheese in his hands while wine glasses float behind him,”We come with invitations.” He smiles smugly as you squint to read the label on the bottle of wine behind him.

“I was saving that!” You shriek.

The cork pops from the bottle as Death sings,”Not anymore~!”

Pestilence eagerly rubs her hands together,”Pass the loot Videl!”

Death puts down the tray before filling the glasses. Leaving you glaring at them all as the bottle is soon left half empty.

“This better be good.” You sit by Pestilence and are soon boxed in by Death who places his legs on yours and Pestilence’s lap.

War swirls the wine in his glass, a grin gradually forming,”It's pretty exciting.”

“Your exciting or my exciting?” You plop a small block of cheese into Death’s mouth.

“Bit of both” he shrugs.

“Alright, what is it?”

War looks to Conquest who pulls out a small envelope, passing it along to his brother. Opening the envelope, War clears his throat and says,

“The Black Hat Organization cordially invites the House of Horsemen and select members of Death Inc. to our decennial gala to celebrate the achievements of current and past villains. The gala will begin at sundown and end at sunrise. There will be a live auction, dead auction, music and dance then some sort of groveling over Black Hats achievements I guess.” War rambles on,”It mentions pops also getting recognized but we haven’t told him yet.”

“Why not?” You ask.

“Because of mom.” Pestilence floats her glass in front of her, eyes glassy as she listens to the viruses and bacteria that linger around her around her. “She’s definitely not invited, and the old man probably won’t want to go without her.”

“Yeah.. so you guys are taking me?”

“Of course, you’re part of the clan. Unless you want us to take Belladonna and Pluto without you and make you look like the third wheel.” Conquest stifles a smile.

You huff,”After you drank my wine I deserve an invitation.”

“Good! We’re going then, time to get dressed!” Pestilence darts up the stairs.

Your eyes widen,”Wait you never said it was-!” Death slips behind the couch and lifts you from under your arms, carrying you up the stairs with ease.

“Bell’s already in the car!” War cups his hands over his mouth to be heard over your thrashing,”Dress nice this time okay!”

“FUCK YOU!” You let out one last scream before Death tosses you into your room with Pestilence.

Death holds onto the door as you bang on it, calling out to your siblings as your sister takes it upon herself to prepare you for the gala. He smiles nervously at his older brothers, motioning a swift,”Phew!”

War chuckles before looking to Conquest,”This should be fun.”

Conquest simply downs his wine silently.

———————

Black Hat prowls the area, watching as guests begin to enter. He vaguely recalls faces, with most villains not being worth his notice whatsoever. But tonight he searches for a specific kind of company.

A Horseman.

“Lord Black Hat.”

A voice behind him calls. He turns around and finds the Four Horsemen and a few others in their party. Lucky him, he grins to himself.

Conquest bows,”It's an honor to be invited once more, my lord.” The others follow suit but rise before their leader does.

Black Hat hums, looking down at the younger man,”It has been some time hasn’t it?” He scans the group, temporarily pausing on.. one.

“Part of the company?” He asks, referring to Death Inc. which like his own company, was multifaceted. Perhaps they were from the lower ranks.

Conquest looks up, turning to his side,”No sir, she is from our clan. My sister in fact.”

You look up at the tall “man” before you, feeling your pulse quickening as he assesses you silently. His eyes roam from your head to your toes before landing on your face, his eye shining with what you could only describe as something predatory. You were a bit terrified, knowing who he was and what he was capable of- remembering seeing it on the battlefield long ago.

But at the same time, you felt elated. Excited. As if a murky glass was wiped clean. It felt new.

Your group steps to the side as Black Hat approaches you. Their bodies tense, knowing they could step in to attack but ultimately would be nothing more than flies for him to swat away. They could do nothing but watch and wait.

Stopping a foot away, Black Hat removes his top hat and holds it to his chest as he performs a small bow. A bowler hat is in place of the one he took off.

“A pleasure to meet you.” He purrs and looks up at you, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine.

You slowly smile.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 65

I am so, so sorry for getting this out so late in the day.  I know this should have gone up almost eight hours ago. Entirely too much has been going on.

Thank you for bearing with.

“Final systems check,” Grey announced, glancing briefly over from the display and nodding at me.

Noah waved its left liw and vomu in a very human gesture, albeit in multiple. “Proper recordings of every Terran scientific paper in our database are prepared to be communicated directly into your translation implant.”

“He means audio,” I stage-whispered to Conor and Maverick.  Tyche had marched out and read them the riot act after she and I cleared the air.  Their abashed apologies once she dragged them back were still under consideration, but I felt safer with them in the room.

I was also a bit loopy on the sedatives they had given me for my blood pressure. So sue me.

Rolling her eyes, my sister turned to Antoine. “And the connection?”

“Strong and clear,” he confirmed.

Maverick cleared his throat to get our attention. “If we can stream all this information directly into her implant, why aren’t we using this for learning?”

Antoine leveled a half-scathing glare – I couldn’t tell if I was more impressed he mustered any degree of ‘scathing’ or that he was tired enough to let it slip through – before explaining. “Any information retention will be trivial at best, and that would be largely because of Sophia’s exceptional memory. She is still essentially hearing several lectures in a row and repeating them back as soon as she hears it.”

Poor Maverick looked devastated.  Unfortunately, his pout was almost comical, and it took every bit of what little self-control I had left to keep from laughing.

It seemed I wasn’t doing as good a job as I thought, because Tyche turned away with a growl, hands flung in the air. “Okay, papers are queued up, connection to the implant is good. Did we get the medication figured out?”

“Confirmed,” Grey asserted without looking up. “Sophia, you will be in REM sleep, but still lucid.  This should let you control the dream and speak to Else.”

“So I’ll be hypnotized.”

Grey scoffed, but Antoine cut them off. “We discussed this, Dr. Hodenson. While you may not believe in hypnosis, it is a proven phenomenon.  While difficult to accomplish deliberately, I have witnessed Sophia subject to this mental state.”

“Wait, what?” My neck hurt from turning so fast to look at him.

“When you read. When you cook. When you wrap presents,” he ticked off on his fingers.

“I’m not hypnotized, I’m in the zone,” I argued.

Tyche rolled her neck and cocked an eyebrow at me. “That is literally hypnosis, specifically when you read.  I remember seeing you sit in a house with no heat, in January, in shorts and a t-shirt, sweating bullets while reading a book that ended up taking place in Mumbai in summer.  You get cravings for whatever foods your favorite characters are eating, even if you hate the food.”

“That’s not hypnosis, that’s suggestion,” Grey stated flatly.

“And hypnosis is the induction of a state of consciousness that makes you particularly susceptible to suggestion,” Antoine pointed out, equally flat.  With these two, it was practically a shouting match.

Heading off the galaxy’s calmest blow out, I spoke up. “So, creation’s most boring audiobooks, check. Overkill-quality headphones, check. Deep-fake VR drugs, check.” I pointed at myself with both thumbs, “Stoned and willing guinea pig, double check. Let’s get this done.”

Two hours into spouting off what seemed to be hematological extracts, I was considerably less stoned and significantly less willing.

“A low packed cells volume usually indicablood loss due to cell destruction or failure in bone marrow production, while high mean corpuscular hemoglobin concentrations – “

Please. Stop.

“Oh thank fuck,” I gasped, allowing myself to tune out the stream of information piped directly into my head. “Else, is that you?”

Yes, I am here.

“Well, at least it worked… you’re talking quite a bit better now.” I glanced around at the landscape.  While focusing on reciting two hours of scientific papers, I had to ignore it all.  Since the last time I was here, I managed to figure out that the Ark in my dreams was an analogue of my health, from Else’s perspective.  Right now, everything looked okay.  The walls were cracked, but all the pieces were in place. No water. All the lights were functioning. “Also, good to see I’m not dying.”

We wouldn’t let you die.  We need you.

“Not all of me,” I pointed out to thin air.

Your hemoglobin, Else’s voice admitted.

I nodded. “That sounds more accurate.  You eat iron, right?”

Yes. And there is so much here.

“That sounds sinister,” I mused.  Since Else has been able to read my thoughts in the past, I made a point in the dream to speak out loud. It was more for me than the bacteria, since literally all of this interaction was happening in my head anyway. “Is that why you are on the ship.”

I didn’t ask to be here. Humans brought me here.

“The same humans you’re eating. Were you in the core samples we gathered?”

No. I came later.

“But that is the only time we have taken anything on board since we left Earth.” This wasn’t making sense.

I am from the Ark.

“Else, you aren’t making sense,” I took a deep breath. I imagined taking a deep breath. Something.  I was definitely getting a very real headache. “If you only came after the core samples, but you come from the Ark, how does that work?  Are you another alien race? What planet are you from?”

I am from the Ark.

“I mean what planet – “

No planet. I am from the Ark.

“Wait, what? You mean… Life on Earth evolved from the primordial soup that existed after Earth formed. From… amino acids, then proteins…”

From the oceans, to be simple.

“Right, from the oceans.” I mused. “But we’re in space, with all the radiation you could want, plus exotic trace minerals that may be in those core samples, and a big god-damned – “

Language, Else admonished.

“Oh, now you have a sense of humor,” I huffed. “We have a big lake with all kinds of biological experiments going on in BioLab 2. Is that where you come from?”

Not just the water. Experiments, too.

“Fuck.”

None of that.

“So we made you.”

Yes.

My knees spiked in agony as I hit the deck below my feet. “It was an accident,” I begged in a hoarse whisper. “All the shitty things we have done to ourselves and each other, please tell me it was an accident.”

Did you know if you were an accident before you were told by your parent?

“That is such a low blow,” I scowled. “You and Tyche are the only ones who know that.”

But fair.

“Unfortunately.” I huffed an imaginary lock of hair that just appeared in my face for the sole purpose of doing so. “I am going to assume this was an accident.”

Ouch.

Indulgently, I stomped around, fists clenched, growling the entire time. “I am negotiating with a sentient colony of bacteria, one that humanity made, somehow, and now you have hurt feelings!?” I was screaming by the end of it, and a distant part of my brain registered a chilled sensation in my arm. “Stop sedating me, I’m pissed!” Breathing heavily, I tried to calm down. “I get that it’s insulting, Else, but trust me, you do not want humanity to have made you deliberately.  If that was the case, your only actual function is to kill people and destroy buildings.”

I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to live.

“As a former intended entrée, I can sympathize. But you are killing us, Else.” Hot tears filled my eyes. “I’m okay so far, but that is only because Miys is constantly infusing me with freshly made, iron-rich blood. What happens when we’re out of resources? Or reach our destination?”

Nutrient rich plants, engineered to grow on the new planet.

“Conor,” I gasped, covering my mouth as the tears I was trying so hard to hold back fell down my face. “The catnip he gave Tyche. He said it was a failed experiment.”

He does not know he created us. The gift was in good will.

“Is that how you infected her?”

No. She likes to swim. And she loves you.

“Difference between intelligence and sentience: that was exactly the wrong thing to say,” I hissed. “The only body you have are the ones you stole from my family and the crew, so I can’t actually hurt you. But I am this close,” I held my fingers so they were barely not touching, “to having Miys filter you out of our blood and flush you into space.  The only reason I am here talking to you is because we knew you were sentient before we realized you were killing us.” Another deep breath. “Try. Again.”

She was infected when she went swimming. It was not intentional. We needed iron.

“Much better.”

We did not mean for the mermaid to be injured so. There was so much iron in her blood. I did not know that taking it away would harm her.

“You harmed us all!” I screamed. “All of us!  You made Grey absent-minded and forgetful. You undermined their confidence. You made Conor, Grey, and Antoine angry,” I spat. “The biggest betrayal of all. Three of the calmest, most reasonable people I know, the ones who would have rooted for you, and you took that away from them!”

I –

“Conor and Grey made you!”

Did not know. Not then. But I-we know that now. And we are sorry.

”Are you? Or are you pleading for your life?”

I-we want to live.

“That I believe.”

But we want you to live, even if we are not within you.

“How the fuck do you think we do that? Humans are the only source of iron on the ship.”

I-we am-are bacteria. I-we can be isolated.

“And then, what? Leave you on some poor planet to kill some other species? I hate to tell you, but you went from birth to genocide in alarming fashion. All of humanity that is left, is on this ship, and you are killing what’s left. From what we understand, the Galactic Council would frown on what you’re doing.” I focused on sending the information I had gotten back to Miys and everyone listening in. “I can’t let you do this to another species.”

Barren planet. Old one, where no more life will survive.

“One that is at the end of its life cycle?”

I-we do not believe I-we am-are vulnerable to heat.

I waited patiently for information before I responded. “Miys says we can isolate you and test for you heat resistance before booting you off in a nebula that you can’t fuck up. Is that sufficient?”

Humans cannot live in a nebula.

“We can’t live in a pylon either, but you ate it all the way through.”

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[worldcakecakecake]

Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I  Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58 I Chapter 59 I Chapter 60I Chapter 61 I Chapter 62 I Chapter 63 I Chapter 64  I Chapter 65 I Chapter 66

I seriously thought I could update in the same month...but noooooo!!! I still try! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

                                                            Chapter 67

It took many days for the royal infantry to arrive at the edges of the protected field, behind other Heartian infantries that made it there quicker. Along the way, they would meet with other infantries of other kingdoms. Décor in their movements, with their unique colors and greetings that made Feliciano joyous to meet and wave as they passed.

 The small buildings of the village of Tiksi were unnoticeable to all, the humble places covered by the great amounts of tents that piled, the soldiers marching, cooks swinging about many kinds of different dishes, swords, spears, wands, an occasional sparks that flung to the air in a beautiful spectacle. They had brought the population of all the four capitals combined, surely even more, encircling well the forest around the field making it shine almost like its own very city.

 Ludwig and Feliciano constantly kept a hold to each other, worried that they would easily loose themselves between the array. They kept to the few places that remained from the village, where all the royals from all kingdoms were located with their own guards, rooms, and spaces for necessary planning. Only the guards who had originally lived here vacated the area offering protection for the royals, their own families well sent to other cities where they could be safe.

 Their schedules here consisted of going over the plans and making sure many times that everything was placed as it should be, repeated to the point that it was getting agitating, Alfred wording it well one evening, mad to the point that they had to call a break to relax and breathe. Ludwig and Feliciano appreciated it, enjoying from this time to sit by their room, impossible to take naps as they wished when they kept their eyes distant on the white snowy skies, expecting the field to splendor as it did the last time they were there. Abasi later explained to them that with the last orbs still considered newly placed, it was powerful and so they shouldn’t fear over flashes keeping them up at night.

 Well, they really didn’t need them to keep up at night, simply the days counting down was enough to have their eyes staring to the ceiling, Ludwig and Feliciano chatting on about different art techniques which they would later test on whatever surface they could find to draw away their anxiousness. Or there was passion.

 Some nights, Ludwig would wrap himself well around Feliciano’s waist, kissing from his neck down, moans as an accept to all, to being between one another and letting the bed cringe at their movements, at their breaths and actions creating humidity in the room, eyes glowing in love and enjoy.

 They had to cherish this, they had to give in to these delights, one of the many that kept them held, kept them loved and warm in such cold fears.

 Even done, with its peak finished, Ludwig would remain within Feliciano, breathing him well in, despite the sweat, clinging to him more, his large arms taking more of his frame to himself. Feliciano accepted, blissful, with a deep smile and sweet caresses over whatever part of Ludwig’s skin he could reach. The only thing Ludwig found odd…was that Feliciano kept the bandages from a wound he had received many weeks ago. With their nurses and quick healing, it should have lessened, or the bandages completely gone.

 He noticed how Feliciano tensed when he went to pick the wrapped hand. “How bad a cut was this?”

 “I…had half a bottle stuck in there,” Feliciano made up, feigning a pain.

 “Are your hands really all right?”

 “Yes, they’ll be fine to use. The cut is… still too bad and I’m really worried I might get an infection.”

 Ludwig let it fall gently to the side of the bed, settling his head on Feliciano’s chest, his heartbeat his melody and his body his comfort.

 They constantly received visitors at their cabin, sometimes soldiers and casters who were curious to see or perhaps meet them, or good friends they had made in their journey across the kingdoms. Feliciano even started organizing a special lunch just for the queens, a space he made to keep them away from tension and discuss their dealings with the position and other advices that could help for any ruling situation. Sometimes they were joined by the other kings, or as today, they were joined by a band of Oralee sailors who brought with them a special green tea from the Spadian islands, exquisite and with a scent that was good rest to their minds.

 “My family owns one of the biggest plantations in the Oralee,” Carlos told proudly.

 “And it’s the best!” Anthone assured, his family worked on the land as well.

 “It helps all the muscles in your body to breathe and to clean of whatever bacteria still inhabiting our bodies,” Nadia informed.

 “Ah, it’s so exquisite!” Elizabeta sighed with outmost peace, leaning more on her chair.

 “I definitely will order crates for when we come back,” Arthur dreamed.

 “As will I,” Lili held her cup as if it was a dear child.

 Feliciano nodded with a smile, in it acceptance to the ordering. Something else to keep him expectant for a shining future.

 “I’m sure we’ll have enough to go through with demands,” Carlos was confident.

 “We’re going to be rich!” Emmanuel already celebrated.

 “I’m going to get a bigger canoe! And with diamonds in it!” Rosangeliz proclaimed, earning laughter.

 It was in such peace that it happened.

 There was a sudden crack, loud…intimidating in this waiting expanse. For a moment they though it could perhaps only be a creak of their tables or chairs, perhaps another tent…but with the curious eyes all around them searching, it didn’t seem to be the case. The crack was coming from far…far into the field. As it continued, slowly driving the armies into nervous silence, Feliciano began to realize what that crack sounded like. It was like when Ludwig had tried to break the field with his sword.

 “No…” Feliciano stood, anxiousness quickly reigning with him as it did with everyone that was there in his cabin terrace. He walked down, joining the rest of the crowds that stared in fearful silence to the distant sky…where the transparent wall of the field was supposed to be.

 It continued coming stronger, the echoes going further than their camp, with in-betweens of silence that only agitated them all the more. Feliciano noticed as many began to place hands on their weapons, magicians already forming casts, yet their glances kept to the sky…expecting.

 “Feliciano!” Ludwig called, rushing to his side, taking each other, in their eyes shaking fear, realization haunting and driving their hold tighter.

 “It…it cannot be…” Elizabeta said as she neared them, joined along with the other royals, as disturbed.

 “Is Khaos…breaking out?” Arthur worded what all that were present were surely thinking and talking about.

 “No… it’s not supposed to happen yet…” Lili feared, wrapping herself around her brother, Vash’s staff standing and ready.

 “There are still days left to the alignment,” Ivan reminded.

 “Unless…he found something out…” Alfred was just as suddenly agitated as everyone else, his new gun brought out and shinning well in sapphires.

 The cracks, the echoes, the bangs, intensified across, wanting to come to a finite, and the longer it went, the more the armies surrounding them formed more into the planned defense and attack.

 It stopped, the last echo bringing a blanket of silence, none wanting to dare and test it, afraid that it could curse and bring about something. As the silence was elongated, many began to think that perhaps it was different, perhaps it wasn’t their worst of their thoughts, maybe a spell casted from the other side of the camp or just a random noise from the field…but then there was actual shattering. They saw as rains of crystal came down, along with a roar of thunder and an act of lightning.

 “No…” Feliciano panicked and shook, acting quick, leaving Ludwig’s side and running off forward, to a familiar opening through the trees that he had taken but a year ago, to dangers and openings far worse than they had been before.

 “Feliciano!” Ludwig called, running after, into the very threshold, trying to find him in the scattering that began.

 “Start your defensive shields!” A Spadian general commanded, loud in the vicinity, a chain of other lieutenants and captains spreading the word until every single soldier placed a specific hand gesture to their chest, to a seal they had been given. They all glowed in their respective kingdom color as an energy spread through them creating that magical defense, blind to others as they all began to take practiced positions.

 “Move forward in the curved approach. Do not attack unless given royal command to start!” Elizabeta shouted, the message then spreading and thus their design instantly taking life, like living sun rays to the center of the field.

 The royals, together, but two lovers who had already taken the depths, ran to their duty to the head of it all, moving between the insanity, branded in armors, uniforms and their chosen weapon as beginning force. All ten took to the trees, following the prophesied two.

 “Move in! Remember that the St. Mark will give us a sign to see if we cannot hear!” João called as one of the leading members of an infantry. Pookie flew to him, nodding to all that he shall act when ready. He turned to the trees, spotting his master far, taking direction towards him ready to protect. They all saw charmingly as he spun and transformed to his large and ferocious form, quite a beauty to spark belief and power, diving forward, ready to begin.

 The armies began their own plunge into the forest, with shouts and roars that replaced the echoes of shattering in the valley.

 What was usually a long thread, Feliciano had rushed himself quick enough to be able to reach the very edge in a matter of a few minutes. There was the blankness he had remembered…indeed the same…and nothing else. There was no other men, no other roars but of his own people, who still hadn’t reached, leaving him alone to search, to find darkness out of its confide. He reached a hand to test if the field was truly gone and indeed his hand could go on and on, forward to the fortress of mountains, a blizzard now freer to expand.

 Then where was Khaos? Where was the start of menace?

 He began a pace around the field, hoping to find the placement of the orbs, hoping to fix it. It only took a single further glance, and he could already see it sprung, smoke rising, and pieces spread. There was someone, leaning to one of the surviving large pillars, an item on his hand that he kept throwing into the air and letting it fall back in his hand, calmed and nonchalant to what was coming. As Feliciano came closer, the features began to be more visible, a familiarity that began to be terrorizing, and yet Feliciano managed to push himself, wanting to face, wanting, if he could, defeat that second.

 “Ah, Feliciano, so nice to see you again! That cape looks rather divine on you,” Khaos complimented, with a smile and starting a stride forward that to anyone could be friendly, but Feliciano knew, stunned and shaking.

 He couldn’t do anything, not even a word or scream as Khaos took sitting in a broken pillar he brought forward, collected as if this was a sitting at a park. Khaos waited with a smirk and Feliciano remained in the same standing he had met him in. The shouts of the people well sang around the field even if they couldn’t see them, yet Khaos remained unfazed about them, only staring at Feliciano, who began a clenching of his hands, hoping for magic, hoping for a sort of guidance that could give him the lead to attack.

 “So?” Khaos was getting slightly impatient at not being responded to.

 “What are you doing here?”

 Khaos was rather astounded at this very direct question and response. “Can I not be here?”

 “No…you’re not supposed to.”

 “Technically I’m still in the field.”

 “No…” Feliciano raised a trembling hand, pointing, knowing exactly where the field was supposed to start and end, Khaos sitting right well between it. “You are not.” An anger began to light up in Feliciano, like fire, like power, a spark that was so much like Augusta and Khaos responded as nonchalant, like a joke, like he was still facing a mere child. He did well to imagine that very infant Augusta he had known. Innocent, unknowing, weak and easy to manipulate.

 Khaos stood in demand and fear, a standing he had remembered taking well to scold Augusta in, coming forward, even leaning slightly to be at Feliciano’s level, close to see tinges of fear in the Queen of Hearts, in those lovely colors that made him vibrant and beautiful. Khaos brought forward a clenched hand, dropping an item that Feliciano caught quickly, feeling a dark stone, clean and smoothed despite all the evil harbored in it. The color and power he knew could only come from his beloved…and he had remembered him using this very stone against this menace, saving him from hungry clutches and granting enough of a defeat to escape.

 “Took me a while but your beloved prince left an amazing tool. Apparently only something of a royal’s power, no matter the simplicity, is enough take apart the field, especially one so darkened and belonging to a mere prince. He hasn’t even come to his full power and yet I have already made use of him.”

 “He’s a King.” Feliciano gripped and took the stone, hoping he could break it and blow the shards at him.  

 Khaos shrugged, “his title won’t really matter. When I take control of things, I might feel like leaving him a prince…if I plan to keep him alive that is.”

 “I won’t let such a thing happened,” Feliciano let his harbored determination illuminate strong.

 Khaos let out a chuckle, “then prove yourself.”

 Before Feliciano could respond, a shard flew well in front of the Dark King, widening those darkening eyes, a single little slash at the point of his nose, in only half a second landing well in entrance and standing on the snow.

 “He won’t be alone,” was the voice that joined, a Heartian King presented like a gentleman figure, honored even if in his war uniform. Soon after, one by one, the once King of the Dark Kingdom was presented to all the present royals, decorated in their own colors, shows of progress in their seals, protected in powerful shields to compare to his power he could tell, brandishing different weapons and spells ready to release and start. Even the smallest, Lili Zwingli, Queen of the Diamond Kingdom, showed menace and wielded in her hands a spell.

 Surprise was clear in his face, mainly at the suddenness of all of them presented, not shared to the rest of the armies who began their approach, being seen, yet still, waiting for the proper word.

 Khaos stood alone, easy to take, like a sure victory that they could take in a matter of minutes without even having to use their men and women. They all took a single step forward, testing what seemed like a simplicity. It didn’t pass unnoticed to Khaos, who chuckled, not moved, the cold intensifying his laughter, loud and boisterous throughout the now open field, shivers in its echo that spread to even the soldier in the furthest back of the crowds.

 “How quaint! It’s adorable, it’s childish, it’s-” he was thrown over, with a single punch cladded in blue strength, taking a harsh landing deep in the further snow, startling him intensely, but not hurting, not even a bruise…especially when Alfred had used a powerful spell.

 Arthur smiled behind him, knowing how Alfred was still adjusting to using magic. It was a big difference then already settling on his guns.

 “Gods, let’s just fight and get this over with!”

 Yao was ready to bring another blow to add, his staff ringing beautifully even if it was soon to arise deadly blue fires.

 “Ragazzi…” Feliciano called, stepping forward in an acceptive space they all gave him, “it is my duty to face him.”

 “We will not let you alone,” Roderich said, looking so tall as he wielded a large and heavy sword.

 “Do what you need to. We’ll be right here if anything,” Ludwig smirked and in it Feliciano could see a whole thriving world.

 “Ah, but you’re only sending me but a boy-” he hadn’t said much as Feliciano didn’t waste a moment to advance, a large swing with a reddening field that pushed in smoke and hardship. He already stood so proudly as the spell was finished, while Khaos continued to cough in the ground.

 There was still so much to do, but Feliciano smiled knowing that he managed that stand he had practiced so much to do and especially while facing Khaos.

 This was already starting out pretty well.

 He breathed, he clapped his hands, decorating himself in fire, marks brandishing across his skin, calling what he was, an Ace and a hero to expect. From that gathered fire, he pierced the ground and used it to move quicker, anytime fire to arise and burn. He began a fighting dance with Khaos, who already looked so exhausted as he ducked and moved avoiding every crack, throw and even kick or punch Feliciano could manage. It was quite a show that left all to only stare in awe, occasionally tripping or falling whenever either of the fighting figures used something strong enough to shake the very ground.

 Khaos used a ring spell, wanting to spread it, in it thunders of pain and reactors surely to bring all in the area to their knees and instantly defenseless. Feliciano worked quick to take and break it, swinging it in impressive strength across the field, bringing it down to the ground, another shake, Khaos took another fall and it granted more anger. He already looked so eldered and sickened as he struggled to stand, but managing to call forward, loud words in the language of darkness that none could understand, and none would be expectant of. Before they could even react, from the snow, like blooming plagues, darkened men came, armored and readied in weapons as their enemies. Kiku shouted, but spared a kick to go along, throwing off the first darkened soldier, starting a beginning of smiles and confidence with the royals.

 “For the four kingdoms!” Roderich raised his sword high, with it a lamp of green extending to the sky, a signal for all to see and know.

 “Brethren, attack!” Abasi shouted, riding along with his people, commencing and signaling with a light spell, its shine strong enough to already disintegrate some of the soldiers, not being exposed to White Kingdom magic in so long.

 “Charge!” Lien, leading a group of the Spadian High Protection Squadron, shouted along, the first to crash and meet the beginning wave, already slashing and cutting with the sharp edges of their swords. Priya moved swiftly between, blowing them away in spells, holding them in air enough for the Vikings, these led by Emil, to pierce with their spears and weapons. Zuma crashed bare hands into fully armored heads, destroying and pulverizing with pure spells of the White Kingdom. Young Soo, who was near as he did this, couldn’t help but stare in wonder, wishing to do the same, so he went on. Sure his disintegrating not as intense as he didn’t posses such power from the deceased kingdom, but it was winning and diminishing enemy numbers. Sefina and Nadia moved between a mist they created together, using the dark men’s blindness to choke and kick in quick submission. They let it fall when it got too large and they needed larger numbers to attack. Ivan came to lead well his more rough and large looking soldiers to traverse the field, their stature enough to run over easily, victorious chants to last. Francis, ever so elegantly and suave, swirled with a beautiful sword, deadly if even how shinning and clean he looked…like he wasn’t battling surrounded by the most gruesome men. This kept them all distracted by the show in the center field, by the height of the Darkened King and the Heartian Queen, flying and exploding with mere swings of strong swords they now used.

 In one fault, Feliciano was hurled downward, the pain choking, parts of his clothes burning…but all he cared about watching were the gloves, which luckily remained intact.

 “Torrente!” He suddenly called, focused on making it loud. Khaos laughed, finding it useless as Feliciano was nearing the ground and nothing had occurred.

 Kandake was the first to response, throwing high a white capsule she kept. Lukas threw his own, as did Tino, Haris, Tulio, Vash and six more different soldiers they had chosen, spread in a perfect circle around the battling field. They were small and singular in their distance, looking plain and useless. Khaos hadn’t even noticed them.

 “Cover!” Abasi shouted.

 “Quick! Quick! Quick!” Carlos joined in warning, riding and rapidly informing. It was the only thing Khaos had turned to notice and when he gazed back to his opponent, Feliciano bared a teasing smirk. He whispered a simple spell, extending his hands rather beautifully, stars of white coming out, each reaching a capsule and instantly there were strong winds, brushing, intensifying and clearing the area. It combined with the once trapped blizzard, growing and making the sudden storm they made the true fear they intended. Luckily, with aid of the winds Feliciano could control, he landed well on the ground, kneeling down and letting the grey, the snow, the hits that blew all across, deal with the darkened King…which he could not find now, lost surely in the torrents.

 It became too powerful to take, Feliciano not being able to stand from his guarded spot, between hills of snow and shells and remains of weapons and spells that had been used.

 “Feliciano!” Came the call and the Queen found the company of his King, kneeling well with him, sword with darkened remains of those he had slain, cuts on his uniform and skin and unruly hair. He breathed heavily, taking this encounter as a small rest, as a hold to his beloved that he couldn’t help but worry over even as he had defended and fought well. Feliciano took it no matter, embracing him strongly and wishing this all could be just this, Ludwig’s scent, his arms and love and nothing else.

 “Your majesties!” Luis had come, kneeling and crawling in defense. He was Alfred’s older brother and one of the princes of Spades. He too shone with proofs of battle, but yet as determined to inflict more. “All are taking cover as you commanded. We see no sign of more darkened men and fire seems to have ceased,” he informed.

 “Tell them to still be cautious and wary. Ciarán must still be working on the endurance spell for us and we cannot really fight well until he’s done.”

 One of Arthur’s older brothers, another powerful magician aiding.

 “You’re all doing an amazing job! Please let everyone know that,” Feliciano seemed desperate.

 “Will do!” Luis saluted away, intending to send his message between hiding and trying to fight the strong winds that reigned. Ludwig and Feliciano remained watchful on him, until a darkened light caught the corner of their eyes, they turned to the field again, activity in the blankets of snow and the blistering wind.

 Darkened cracks, looking like lightning, exploding and bursting like lava, until in its very center this volcano was shown, evil, with strong menace and a presenting that was different from the Khaos they had known. Marks, oozing hideously, crooked smile and eyes, an elongated figure with claws at every end that was the image of true nightmare. Ludwig and Feliciano began to stand, taking last comforts in the robes they still kept for the cold and a hold of their hands. They were not going to be afraid, they were going to show to their people that they could all be brave no matter what presented and what blew around them.

 As those evil gleaming eyes laid on them, the Heartian King and Queen felt the strength of Ciarán’s spell, the winds now not pushing them so harshly, everything clearer, the cold not so intense and they could expose greater between flying debris in bright red and golden colors, the powerful image to get all around to stand and begin once again, especially with the aid of a storm around them.

 “Do you have your sword ready?” Feliciano reminded.

 Ludwig unsheathed the royal weapon, beautiful, artistic, but the blade edged with danger and death. “What about your shield?”

 It was small, Feliciano being able to take it from his belt, using a simple spell to make it grow, the great symbol of a St. Mark presented, as elegantly and gorgeous as his husband’s sword. It was in that very moment that Pookie landed behind them, proud, roaring strong, taking position and waiting for his masters’ begin.

 They moved only slightly forward, enough to leave whatever defend of snow, exposing themselves true.  

 “For Glory…” Ludwig started in a simple whisper.

 “For Honor…” Feliciano joined in the same light.

 "For Riches…”

 “For the Gods…” each phrase was more a facing forward.

  “For Hearts!” They shouted high those last words, gaining speed and ready to face darkness itself.

 Khaos smirked so widely and fearsome, but to Ludwig and Feliciano, it was nothing that they weren’t ready to handle.

[rhnuzlocke]

Chapter Eight: Rock and a Hard Place

Dewford Island was smaller than Ren expected, and the walk from town on the southeast end to Granite Cave on the northwest end only took about three hours. It was lovely; all pale sand and rolling dunes dotted with flowers. Rounded granite marched up through the middle of the island, obscuring the other side. Panahi floated on the breeze, a fond smile on her face as she listened to the calls of the Wingull colony on the far side of the rocky hills. Māia tumbled and dipped above them, reveling in the updraft while Tāraki dashed up and down the beach chasing the waves and Iki skimmed over the shallows. Akahana and Hakeka walked just beyond the reach of the sea where the damp sand was a little firmer, and Ren took off her boots to walk barefoot beside them.

A sign by the cave entrance declared: Only one pokemon per person. All sound-based, concussive, and earthshaking moves are strictly forbidden. So Ren withdrew all but Akahana before she went in. The covert nature of their mission meant that Ren didn’t know where exactly the Champion would be, so they would rely on Akahana’s nose to guide them. She snuffled around the entrance for a minute or so before following the freshest scent trail deeper in.

The tunnels, or at least the main ones, were lit by strings of soft electric lamps powered by a solar panel outside. The light was made all the warmer by the pink hue of the granite walls, and the air sighed like a breath. It felt homey and lived in. She was welcome here.

They turned down a side tunnel and descended. Aron and Zubat peeked out from the shadows but let them pass without challenge. Geodude remained still as statues, Abra teleported away in a blink, Makuhita and Mawile shuffled off, and a Sableye feeding on a crystalline deposit fixed them with its uncanny gem-like eyes before loping into the darkness.

“Just ahead,” said Akahana.

A vertical shaft opened up, and beyond it, the tunnel started to drop off precipitously. The chamber wasn't far across and, at first inspection, unoccupied. But Akahana nudged Ren’s leg and pointed up with her snout. The ceiling was far above them, and a whiff of sea air suggested at least some part of the shaft went all the way to the surface. But before that, a young man in spelunking gear hung from the wall, headlamp bathing a section of the overall dimness in bright illumination. As she watched, he chipped away gently with a small pick, sending tiny pebbles pinging to the floor beside her. He then returned the pick to his belt and grabbed a brush. The light of his headlamp gleamed off his safety goggles as he leaned in to carefully brush some dust away. It floated gently down, glittering softly.

Akahana nudged her again. Right! She should probably announce herself.

“Hello!”

He looked down at her with a friendly smile. “Hello down there!”

“Are you Steven Stone?”

“Yes I am! I’ll be down in just a moment.”

He stowed his equipment and pushed off the wall, repelling down in one graceful arc. He unhooked himself and pushed up his goggles before removing his helmet. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook it out so that it was no longer plastered to his head. It settled like a silver cloud, soft, irregular, and weightless. It played wonderfully against the warm brown of his skin. His brows and lashes were pale as polished sterling, and his eyes were a bright and vivid turquoise.

He was absurdly gorgeous. Ren already knew this. She'd seen pictures of him. She'd looked him up right before coming here just to make sure she'd recognize him. She'd known all about his perfect nose and elegant jawline. But she hadn't expected to be affected by it. That was… that was new.

“Do we really need this part? Maybe we could skip ahead a little?” Given the current circumstances, I believe your relationship with Steven is quite relevant. “Fiiiine.”

“I’m Ren Kosugi.”

His smile became even more radiant, if that were possible. “A pleasure to meet you, Ren.” He extended a hand, and she took it. “So, are you a fan of cave paintings or did you need me for something?”

Ren paused for a moment before answering, but despite the mental preparation, her tongue still betrayed her. “I needed you—” If she wasn't blushing before, she certainly was now. She could feel the heat welling up from her chest and radiating from her face. “I didn’t even know there were cave paintings here. Your father asked me to deliver a package.” Ren dove into her bag to stop looking at him for a moment, and he thanked her as handed him the parcel.

“He didn't even let me know you were coming,” Steven murmured, almost to himself. He sighed. “Well, trouble always comes in twos. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Sorry to be the Yamikarasu before the storm.”

He blinked back to the moment. “Not at all. I don't know how much my father told you, but this is extremely important. Thank you again for agreeing to deliver it.”

“It was no trouble. I'm glad I came to Dewford.”

“It is quite lovely. Though admittedly, I don't spend much time on the island aboveground. Will you challenge the gym while you're here?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Brawley won't be easy, but it should be a fun battle.”

“Māia will be glad to hear that.” Ren somehow hadn’t expected him to be this nice and friendly. But then again, there was a good chance he felt obligated to be. Maybe she should give him an out. “Where are the cave paintings you mentioned?”

“I’ll take you. It’s the least I can do.” Well, obligation or no, she wasn’t going to refuse the offer. “Actually, hang on a moment.” He picked his bag off the floor and rummaged through it. “You have a Taillow, don’t you?”

Right. They all knew her already. “I do.”

Steven smiled, and then his face suddenly grew taught and his lips retreated into his mouth, like he'd said to much.

“Don't worry, Roxanne already spilled about the group chat.”

“Thank Arceus!” He sagged in relief before snapping back to attention. “Wait, did she really?” Ren nodded, and his face wrinkled in fiendish delight. “I can never properly repay you for this invaluable intelligence! I'm saving this for the next time she thinks she can correct my Anorith claw identification!” Ren felt a little bad for tattling on her, but that light in his eyes was hard to resist. He gave a somewhat sheepish little chuckle. “We’re friends, I swear.” He took a calming breath and relaxed a little, though he was still near bubbling with mischief. It was a pleasant change from his subdued worrying over the prototype.

She was even more curious about it now, but didn’t want to bring the mood back down by asking. Besides, the fact that he hadn’t volunteered any more on his own suggested he wouldn’t tell her either way.

He pulled a TM out of a case in his bag and held it out to her. “Anyway, please accept this. It’s Steel Wing, my favorite move.”

Ren almost turned it down—TMs were very expensive—but between Steven's hopeful expression and how angry Māia would be if she heard that Ren had refused it, that wasn't much of an option. “Thank you.”

He stowed the package in his vapor box and stripped off his climbing harness, folding it neatly with the rest of his things before gesturing down the tunnel.

“Shall we?”

They headed off with Akahana trailing behind, and Steven pointed out various mineral deposits and formations as they went along. The most dramatic of which was a section of tunnel through black stone rather than mottled pink.

“Now this,” Steven paused to gesture grandly, “is why the caverns exist in the first place. It's a dolerite intrusion.”

“That's when magma pushes through an older rock?” The specific terminology was pushing the bounds of her Anglic mastery, but she had taken geology as one of her science electives, so she could at least take a crack at the words she wasn’t sure of.

“Exactly so!” A smile broke across his face, and suddenly Ren felt unreasonably proud of her guess. Steven’s fingers brushed gently across the rough black stone as if it were velvet. “This particular dolerite is exceptionally rich in iron, which is how an island this small can maintain such a robust Aron population.”

She glanced around and suddenly the regular grooves in the concave walls became obvious as claw and horn marks. “I saw a few on my way in, but I didn't know they excavated this.”

He turned slowly, giving her a moment to fall in step beside him before continuing. “It's not terribly common knowledge outside of the locals and some rock hunters like myself, but my Aggron grew up here. She's out foraging and catching up with friends, but she'll be along.”

“No wonder you’re such an expert on this place.” Compliments like that always flowed easily off Ren’s tongue, and a cheeky smile accompanied it as naturally as anything, but this time it made her feel pleasantly warm.

Steven hummed. “Gilchrist knows these tunnels as well as her armor.” His eyes flickered over her face and his lip turned upward at whatever he found there. “If you don't mind a detour, there's a siltstone deposit down this way with some truly spectacular stromatolites.”

“I don't mind at all!” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “Only, what is a stromatolite?”

“They are columns formed by almost innumerable layers of cyanobacteria growing atop one another to reach the sun,” he explained with a poetic folding and upturning of his hands. “Thus given the right conditions, the layers can form organic patters in the rock, much the way pattern welding shows the many folds that went into the steel when polished just so.”

“Now that I've heard of. It's so pretty! And I had no idea bacteria could be responsible for rock formations.”

“Not only that, but stromatolites are the oldest fossils we have and an invaluable window into ancient life on the planet!”

The stromatolites turned out to be quite striking, and there was so much to know about them. Steven explained it all quite thoroughly, with the detailed information accompanied by dramatic gestures and an infectious enthusiasm in his tone.

He reminded her of Kai just a little—except that he left little pauses for clarification and to gage her interest, whereas she usually had to tap Kai to get a word in edgewise. Ren wasn’t sure what exactly she’d been expecting, but Steven was definatly a surprise. Certainly a far cry from the intimidating force of nature who was the current Sekiei League Champion. He was, well, a huge dork really, but a charming one.

After many turnings, rock facts, and stories Steven’s Aggron had told him about her ancestors, they emerged into a large oblong chamber covered in murals. There were no clear divisions between the different sections; instead, the images marched seamlessly along through different scenes, all spilling forth from a giant central painting of what must be two gods. They looked vaguely familiar. Maybe her father had once told her stories about them.

“These paintings were made by the Draconid people approximately twenty-five hundred years ago. It contains most of their history. The central mural depicts the formation of Hoenn and the surrounding islands as a battle between the climate gods Groudon and Kyogre.”

Yes, she did know them, though hazily. But what she had at first thought were rolling clouds above them was actually a great serpentine god she didn’t know at all.

“The part that draws most scholars is the portrayal of the climate gods. Their forms are quite unlike all other depictions of them. Once, most historians simply wrote it off to artistic license, but in recent years, many have theorized that this is meant to represent their mega evolutions. But they appear to draw their power from deep in the earth rather than from humans or mega stones.” Steven gestured to the lines that swept up from the floor of the cavern and into the core of each god. “Draconid elders say that this represents their primal forms, as they were when Arcues first created them, distinct from their more current forms but also not mega evolutions. I tend to think that story is closest to the truth since it was their ancestors who made the paintings. But the debate wages on.”

“Masaka,” Ren murmured appreciatively. “I can’t believe I never heard about this. I guess Johto has its own mysteries to focus on. Thanks for showing me. This is unbelievably cool.”

“I wish I could tell you more about the rest, but ancient studies aren’t exactly my area of expertise.”

Akahana growled low, and they both whipped around. Whatever had set her off wasn’t in sight yet, or in Ren’s hearing. “Six humans, more pokemon.”

“Trainers?” Ren asked.

Akahana nodded. “I don’t like their footfalls.”

Ren looked over at Steven. His expression had hardened, and a hand hovered over the pokeballs at his belt. “Magma.”

“You sure?”

“Go.” He pointed. “There’s a tunnel just down there.”

“Wait, I’m not just gonna leave you to fight six trainers by yourself!”

“The last thing we need is for them to see you in connection with the prototype again. Three instances is no longer a coincidence.” She couldn't argue with that, but it didn't make leaving him okay. He took her shoulder and met her eyes. “I'll be fine.” He had that tone that made him easy to believe, just like his father. “I’ll call for you if I need help, I promise.”

Ren patted his arm in return before hurrying into the side tunnel with Akahana. They stopped as soon as they were out of sight and not a moment too soon. There were footsteps, shouts, wingbeats, and then a pregnant pause.

“Hand over the prototype!” A woman's voice. There was something unsettling about it. A ragged edge that that grated her nerves.

“Dr. Courtney Kagari!” Steven answered. “I almost didn't recognize you. It's been so long. I'm glad to see you've pursued that interest in training, though I must admit I'm a little disappointed Dr. Matsuda didn't come himself.”

“Enough! We're business people. Let's complete this transaction.”

“That's our parents, not us. We chose different careers for ourselves. I don't think I've ever had the chance to tell you, but I really do admire what you've accomplished with their fortune.”

Ren hadn't detected any sarcasm in his tone, but Courtney snarled. “Give me the parts!”

“I assume you must be after a Devon project? Then I’m afraid I must disappoint you. I don’t have it.”

Shrill cackling pierced Ren’s ears and echoed through the caverns, growing deeper as it went, like the stone itself was laughing.

“Do you really think it wise to take on the League Champion?” They must have been advancing on him.

“No one’s invulnerable, Stone.”

“True,” Steven answered. There wasn't even a hint of fear in it. The easy confidence remained unshaken. There was only amusement and excitement. “But some of us are a little closer than others.”

Flashes of red played across the tunnel entrance, commands jumbled together, and a deep metallic cry rang out above the roars, shrieks, and snarls as pokemon rushed into battle. Ren and Akahana stayed out of sight around the corner, trying to make sense of the sounds of moves flying and bodies connecting. Dr. Kagari and her cohort shouted attacks, but Ren didn’t hear Steven’s voice again until the glare of flames lit the rock across from her.

“MIND THE MURALS!” he thundered. “Those paintings are over two thousand years old!”

The ground beneath Ren’s feet trembled and Akahana whipped around, hackles on end and bristling. A flood of Zubat crashed over them like water, too fast for Ren to do anything but throw her arms in front of her face. Hundreds of wings buffeted her from all sides, and she tottered as their high shrieks cleaved her skull. The world spun around her—Supersonic.

“Look out!”

Ren peered out from behind an arm and swiveled in time to see the tattered image of something barreling towards her. She staggered, and a moment later, a flash of electricity punched a hole in the flow of Zubat around her, giving her an unobstructed view. Akahana’s blinding teeth sank into a the arm of a Makuhita and before Ren could move or force her tongue to form a warning, the wild socked Akahana in the gut with a glowing fist, launching her into the rock. She hit with horrible thud that struck Ren’s ears above the din, and tumbled down the wall’s curvature to sprawl limply across the floor. This time she did not roll back to her feet.

No! No! No!

Ren took a step towards the Makuhita as it rounded on her, then froze as white hot pain roared up her arm. Her other hand snapped to her belt, and she sent out Tāraki. The wild charged him, but he leapt over it and slammed it in the back of the head with his tail. That was enough to down it, but Tāraki climbed atop it just to be sure. Ren rifled through her bag, shaking her head as if that would clear it any faster. She sprayed a potion over Akahana with trembling hands as the last of the Zubat flew out above them.

“Just hang in there! We’ll get you to the Center soon, I promise.”

Ren watched Akahana’s side, but the everything was still moving too much to tell if she was breathing. She put her hands on Akahana but couldn’t feel her heartbeat over a rumble rising up through the floor. Tāraki planted himself in front of them as a Lairon loomed out of the darkness. It roared and charged right for them. Ren wasn’t sure what she yelled as Tāraki ran to meet it, but suddenly energy was flooding out of her and into him. He evolved in a flash as bright as lightning, sending a ripple through the surrounding air. He threw all of his newfound power into a single slash that knocked the Lairon off course. Its head bumped the wall and left a gouge before it swung back to center and stormed out of the tunnel.

Ren let out a deep sigh. Her body felt heavy. Tāraki returned to her side, and she stroked Akahana gently, watching for the slight rise and fall of her shallow breathing. She felt callused hands on her face that weren’t there trying to pull her eyes away, her father’s voice saying words she couldn’t hear. There was only blood, the prone pokemon before her, and shuddering, gasping breaths that would gutter out to stillness.

Ren hadn’t noticed the sounds of battle stop, but suddenly Steven was there, gripping her shoulder to bring her back. “What happened?”

Red seeped back into her memories. There were no gaping wounds—though internal bleeding was probable. She was still breathing. “A wild attacked us. My Poochyena…”

“I’ll get you to the Pokemon Center. Come.”

Ren returned Akahana to her ball, but wouldn’t let go even to stow it. Steven pulled her along by her other hand to the surface, then helped her aboard his Skarmory. They flew fast and low along the coast and ran up to the intake counter. Trainers weren’t allowed in the ICU, so Ren collapsed on one of the waiting room couches.

She didn't ask Steven to stay, but he did. He probably felt responsible, as Ren would have felt in his place, but it was Ren who hadn't withdrawn Akahana when she had the chance, who had taken too long to send out Taraki. All she could see was the button of Akahana’s pokeball blinking red over and over until it went black.

Then there was a flash of silver. Ren blinked. It was the rings on Steven’s hand, palm up before her. She took it, a little more roughly than she intended, and he squeezed her gently back.

“She'll be alright.”

Ren wanted to believe him. The calm assurance in his voice made it easier. Maybe she would pull through. Akahana was nothing if not resilient. But even if she did survive, it wouldn't be alright. Ren knew that as surely as she knew her arm would always ache, as sure as it throbbed right now with her pulse. But if she lived, at least Ren would have a chance to make it better somehow. She really wanted a chance this time.

[under-atomic-skies]

The Crooked Kind. Ch. 1

Welcome Home

Summary:  Fiddleford is a student at Backupsmore University. He meets a stranger at a payphone and makes an unlikely friend who, unbeknownst to him, has a long, complicated relationship with his roommate. The pair become close and eventually, a romance buds between them. What could possibly go wrong? (Tags will be updated as fic is updated)

Warnings: none for this chapter

Word count: 2,594

AO3

Ch. 1 (HERE) || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4

All my nightmares escaped my head Bar the door, please don't let them in You were never supposed to leave Now my head's splitting at the seams

Snow was beginning to drive from the gray skies suffocating the sky. The weather had been turning gradually colder and colder as winter pressed on. It was nearly Christmas, which also meant the semester was winding down. Finals week was quickly approaching and the impending stress loomed over the young college student. It didn’t help that it was one of his last few years of college and the course work, mechanical engineering, had gotten progressively harder and more complex.

Not that any of that bothered him. He’d been building all sort of robots and improving farm machines for at least a decade. He was doing very well in his classes, but it didn’t change the fact that it was time consuming, and carving out time to study and complete projects in time for the end of the semester was easier said than done.

He technically should be studying now, but he’d been studying all day and he could at least recognize (unlike his roommate) the benefits of taking a break every now and then. What better way to do so then to get fresh air and call his family.

At least that had been his plan. Being a southern boy, he forgot how “fresh air” implied that the air outside was so cold that it hurt to breathe. Remind him why he decided to go to a school where the air hurt to breathe? Wrapping his jacket tighter around his thin shoulders, he continued along his way to where the phone booth stood, quietly stuck in between a nearby building and a mostly empty parking lot.

Opening the door, he let himself in and closed it, realizing sadly that it wasn’t any warmer inside the phone booth. Fishing through his pockets, he retrieved several coins and inserted them before dialing his home phone number. Lifting the phone to his ear (and trying not to think about all of the germs and bacteria living on the damn thing), he waited patiently as the phone beeped in his ear.

Finally, the beeping broke off as a warm voice greeted him through the phone with a thick southern accent, “Hello, McGucket residence?”

A smile tugged at the boys features as he recognized his mother’s voice. “Hi Ma!” he replied back with excitement.

“Fiddleford!” she all but shouted into his ear, earning a laugh from the man at the other end. “Honey, it’s so good to hear from you! How are you? Are you eating?”

Rolling his eyes playfully, Fiddleford laughed again, “Yes, Ma. I’m eatin’, I swear.”

“Good! You’re always so skinny; I don’t want ya wastin’ away!” His mother’s voice was warm, though Fiddleford knew his Ma well enough to tell she was worrying about him. She was always a fretful person, and that only magnified now that her son was hundreds of miles away on his own.

“I promise, Ma, I’m doin’ well. If anything, my roommate is the one who ain’t eatin’.” He laughed fondly before adding, “I guess I also got a protective mother streak in me; I’m always harping on him to eat more, or get some sleep.”

His mother laughed, “Oh, Fiddleford. You’ve always been such a sweet boy. I know I shouldn’t worry about you so, but it’s hard to not worry about your baby!”

Seeing a movement out of the corner of his eyes, Fiddleford turned to watch as a red El Diablo turned into the parking lot and parked a few spots down from the payphone.

“So, how’s your classes going, baby? Finals are comin’ up!” His mother’s voice interrupted him, turning his attention away from the car.

“They’re going well! My roommates been helping me with multivariate calculus. He’s not the best teacher since everything is so easy for him and he can’t seem to understand why I don’t get everything as quickly as he does, but he’s still been helpful.”

A noise not that far interrupted his thoughts as a car door opened. Seeing as this was a busy street, it didn’t seem odd to him so Fiddleford didn’t pay him any mind.

“That’s great, honey! You’re always such a smart cookie!”

She laughed at Fiddleford’s squak of protest.

“You know I’m so proud of my smart boy! Listen sweetie, when are you thinkin’ you can come home for Christmas?”

Fiddleford hummed in thought, briefly glancing at the car as a man emerged from the car. It was fairly dark out so he couldn’t see the man very well. He turned towards the payphone, and seeing that it was in use, strode to the front of his car and sat on the hood, lighting a cigarette that he pulled from a pack.

“Finals week is a week and a half away so probably that Friday after finals.” Fiddleford responded.

“Fantastic! And you’re still plannin’ to bring your roommate home as well, right?” his Ma asked pleasantly. Not for the first time, Fiddleford felt a swell of affection for his kind hearted mother. After explaining how vague his roommate had been about not looking forward to going home for the holidays, and talking about staying in their apartment for the holidays, his mother had offered to open their home to his roommate so he wouldn’t have to spend the holidays alone.

At first, his roommate had been hesitant. Fiddleford suspected it was because he was because he, bless his heart, wasn’t the best at social cues, or socialization for that matter. But at Fiddleford’s insistence (it also helped that he pointed out that the McGucket’s could talk to a dead person), he agreed to go.

“Yep! He’s still plannin’ on comin’! You’re gonna make your homemade apple pie still, right? I’m afraid I talked up a storm about it and he’s lookin’ forward to tryin’ it!” Fiddleford said with a laugh.

“Oh yes, sweetie,” his mom replied, chuckling, “You know I always do.”

Fiddleford grinned, “He’ll be excited to hear that.” After a brief moment, he signed and scratched the back of his neck, “Listen ma, I still got a lot of studying to do. It was great to hear your voice again, and I’ll see ya soon, ok?”

His mum’s voice sounded through the receiver, understanding but still a bit disappointed to have to get of the phone, “Of course, sweetie. You’ll do great! I’ll look forward to seeing ya soon. I love ya!”

Smiling fondly, Fiddleford replied, “I love ya too, Ma. Bye.” he said.

He heard his mother say bye as well before he hung up the phone on the hook. He opened the door to the payphone and as he raised his eyes, his gaze met the strangers, now rising from the hood of his car, flicking the cigarette butt into the growing pile of snow.

“Sorry for takin’ so long.” Fiddleford responded to him kindly. As the man approached, now under the light of the street lamp better, he noticed that the man’s coat couldn’t possibly couldn’t be warm enough to stave off the winter cold.

“No problem.” the man replied, voice gruff. A thin, trail of air coming from his mouth as he breathed. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a quarter, would ya? I wanted t’ call my ma, but I’m one quarter short.”

Fiddleford could obviously tell the man was not happy to have to ask for money from a stranger, and felt sympathy. The man just wanted to call his own mother, and how could Fiddleford deny the man that request. Nodding, he stuck his hands in his pocket and pulled out the rest of the change that he had before offering it to the man.

The man was closer now and as Fiddleford met his gaze, he gasped. The man looked just like his roommate. Or rather, he would if it weren’t for the long hair, scruffy five o’clock shadow, tired bags under his eyes (though Ford was probably sporting a pretty good pair right about now), or strange stains on his threadbare jacket. The man seemed to notice his scrutinizing gaze and appeared to shrink, as if wanting to make himself smaller. Feeling another wave of sympathy, Fiddleford offered a kind smile to the man as he added his coins to the man’s own pair.

“Say, you must be from down south, huh?” He asked. The stranger opened his mouth to reply with a look of confusion before Fiddleford cut him off, “I know how it is. I’m not used to this cold weather either. I happen to have a spare winter coat; how’d ya like to take that off my hands for me?”

The man’s face looked puzzled before he nodded, as if he was hesitating. It was if he didn’t want to take him up on his offer, but his body was too cold and forced him to agree. Fiddleford grinned.

“Thank you! You’re really doin’ me a huge favor!”

The man was starting to ease, much to Fiddleford’s joy.

“I- uh- I really appreciate that, but I really gotta call my Ma before it gets too late. I’m late enough as it is, and if I don’t call her tonight, she’s gonna talk my ear off.” The man said, shuffling his feet.

Fiddleford nodded, “Of course, of course! I gotta get back to studying but I tell ya what, why don’t ya come back here tomorrow afternoon. I can get that coat for ya, and there’s a nice coffee shop a block or two down that has a new drink I’ve been wantin’ to try out.”

The man’s eyes darted away, hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could respond, Fiddleford cut in, “And before ya object, ya know how that southern hospitality is. My own ma will have my head if she ever finds out I don’t welcome a newcomer to the town, near Christmas nonetheless.”

The guy appeared a bit overwhelmed and for a brief moment, Fiddleford wondered if he was over doing it. But how could he not? The man obviously looked like he could use a kind gesture of two, and seeing as he looked so much like his roommate, Fiddleford felt the need to be a bit extra generous to this man.

Slowly, he nodded, “Ok… yeah. Coffee sounds nice.” Ever so slightly, his mouth curved into a hopeful smile. Fiddleford grinned.

“Great. I’ll see ya tomorrow at noon then! Enjoy your phone call with your Ma!” Fiddleford said, turning to head back to his apartment and raising a hand to wave bye to the man. The man waved back, almost hesitantly.

“See ya then!” he called back.

Fiddleford turned fully now, hurrying back to his apartment to get out of the cold, a small smile on his mouth. He could hear the door to the payphone opening as the man let himself inside, and again a few moments later as the door closed. Following the path back to the apartment, Fiddleford noticed that in the short time he had used the payphone, snow had covered the path in a thin layer. His footsteps crunched ever so softly as he climbed the steps leading to his apartments front door before letting himself in. Following down the hallway that led to his tiny apartment, he took his keys out to let himself in.

Unsurprisingly, he found his roommate still at the desk, hunched over as his eyes darted across the textbook he was reading.

“Howdy, Stanford!” he greeted his roommate, who was so wrapped up in his readings that he didn’t hear his roommate. Rolling his eyes with a playful smile, Fiddleford approached his roommate, and leaned his head down to be about level with Ford’s head. He let out a yell which was soon joined by his roommates own shocked yell.

Spinning around to look at Fiddleford with wide, frightened eyes, Fiddleford burst into laughter. His roommate didn’t seem nearly as pleased, not that Fiddleford was all that surprised.

“Ya know, Stanford, I could have been a burglar or a murderer or somethin’ and you wouldn’t have even noticed.”

Ford rolled his eyes, leaning his arm across the back of his chair. “I would have noticed! They would have had to break the door down.”

Fiddleford laughed, “Yeah, somehow I’m not confident that you’d notice that.” This earned a stubborn glare from his roommate.

Playfully grinning back, Fiddleford returned to his desk where his book had been left open for him.

“Anyway, how was your ma?” His roommate asked, turning back to his own book.

Grinning, Fiddleford responded, “She’s good. She’s really excited t’ meet ya! Oh! And I met a guy that looks a bit like ya if ya had long hair.”

“Hmmmm…. I’m inspired. Maybe I’ll grow out my hair. Think that’ll look good on me.” Ford teased, carding his six fingered hand through his wild, mouse-brown hair.

Cocking an eyebrow at him, Fiddleford chuckled curtly, “Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’d suit you.” He paused for a few minutes, deciding to mention his plans for the next day. It wasn’t like he thought the man would do something, but just in case, at least Ford would know where he was, “I’m gettin’ coffee with the guy tomorrow. I dunno what his deal is, but he looks like he doesn’t have much, so I figure a cup of coffee and my old winter coat will help ‘im out a bit.”

By this point, Ford seemed to be wrapped up in his textbook. For a moment, Fiddleford thought he hadn’t heard him and was about to repeat himself when Ford replied, “Just be careful, alright? He’s probably not well off for a reason.”

Pressing his lips together to keep himself from retorting something back, Fiddleford merely hummed. He didn’t agree with Ford’s sentiment, but he knew they were both too tired with too much studying to do to engage in an argument. He was finding it hard to concentrate on his classwork with that man in his thoughts. He was probably done or wrapping up the phone call with his mother. He hoped it went well; if his ma was anything like Fiddlefords, it’s always good to have one person like that in your corner. It soothed Fiddleford to think that the stranger wasn’t entirely alone. He might not have any clue about this man’s life, but it wasn’t hard to deduce that if he was on his own, or, god forbid, living out of his car, he most likely didn’t have many friends or acquaintances.

Fiddleford could only hope that the man wasn’t just passing through. If he was planning on staying for a while, Fiddleford wouldn’t mind getting to know the man. He wanted to know more about this mysterious drifter who he could see had a kind, if not worn heart. The following afternoon could not come fast enough.

With this thought in mind, he marked his place on the book and told Ford that he was taking a shower and heading to bed, and that he should think about doing the same. Ford didn’t respond, too wrapped up in his studying, not that Fiddleford actually expected an answer. He’d come out again after his shower to remind him.

As he climbed into bed several minutes later, it didn’t take long for the exhaustion to catch up to him, and within moments, he was deep in sleep.

[dj-yukio]

Infection AU

In a summary of what happened, I got really inspired by @notelectrictiger12 ‘s demon Emma AU, which I would like to suggest a name change to Infection AU because demon Emma is kind of a mouthful to say, at least for me

Get it? Cause like, the demons are bacteria, and it’s like, slowly infecting her through entering her bloodstream- my point being, it sounds better and more awesome

This one is a pretty messy one cause my thoughts are just jumbled all together, and the most complete draft was the first one, which is all the way at the bottom just FYI if you decide to open it and read it

Draft 7

Lost Route

“Got it, Ray. I’ll get her back home. You can trust me.”

The words lingered on his tongue as he sprinted, knowing what he had to do. He had promised him. He had promised that girl with glasses-Gilda, was it?- that he would bring at least one back alive.

Well, he only had one with him at the moment, and he intended to bring her back home.

Keeping his footsteps light

/

Gah! There was so many-

/

“I’m sorry, everyone.”

Then, at the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he

/

———————

“You’re back!” 

There were shouts of joy as Ray entered the bunker, before even more

/

Draft 6

Transformation Route

“Thank you. That was delightful. To you, for you, I have the utmost respect.”

Then she fell limp, unable to feel anything around her.

Only the desire to protect remained.

That, and a few bacteria that had entered through the holes he had pierced through her.

——————

It started with the small things.

“Hey, have you been getting enough sleep?”

Emma rubbed her eyes, turning to face him as she nodded. For some reason, her eyes had been ridiculously irritable for the past few days. No matter what she did, it would continuously force her to blink. It was no wonder Ray would think that she hadn’t been sleeping well.

Placing her hand over her eyes, she sighed. “Yeah... it’s just, my eyes are suddenly easily irritated all of a sudden. It’s like anything can set it off, even a little bit of dust.” She let her hands open up a little bit, only to immediately cover her eyes again as the dust flew into her eyes. “Ow! It hurts!”

Ray looked away, hand on his chin as he thought for a bit. 

Then he snapped his fingers.

“I’ll see if I can borrow Nigel’s goggles.”

And for the most part, that was the end of it. The goggles did stop them from getting easily irritated, and life went back to normal for her mostly.

Or rather, that should have been the end of all of it.

——————

Usually, when one managed to get back a missing part of them, say for example an arm or a leg, from whatever means, it would be a reason to rejoice.

Finding that her ear had somehow grown back was anything but a reason to celebrate.

She slapped the left side of her face, frantically trying to get herself to wake up, grasping at the pinkish ear that had a skin colour slightly lighter than the rest of her. Hadn’t she left it there, in the burning farm, along with the tracker? How had it grown back? Was it even possible for a ear to grow back? 

Emma didn’t know if she wanted to find the answer to that. 

——————

Emma woke up with a start, a searing pain seemingly burning away at her mouth.

Draft 5

Alter Route

“Thank you. That was delightful. To you, for you, I have the utmost respect.”

Then she fell limp, unable to feel anything around her.

Only the desire to protect remained.

That, and a few bacteria that had entered through the holes he had pierced through her.

——————

Emma figured that she was dreaming when she saw it.

It was like looking in one of those rumoured fun house mirrors which twisted people’s perception of their bodies. Only, there was no way for a simple mirror to make her perceive what she saw before her.

Mirroring her in her actions, the creature swayed along with her as she leaned to the sides to see how the rest of it looked like. Clearly, it was a demon, with its long claws that replaced its fingers, strange feet, and its white mask that didn’t cover its mouth and eyes. 

However, it didn’t seem to be responding to any sort of stimulus apart from doing a mirror image of whatever she was doing.

Hesitantly she brought her hand up, and as she did, so did it, and Emma forced herself to push forward such that she could touch its palm.

The instant the contact was made, its eyes shot open, making Emma fall backwards from the shock. It blinked, scrutinising her, and she was paralysed with fear. Its eyes flicked around, blinking a few times as if it was trying to get used to whatever lighting there was in the dark abyss that they were in.

Then it looked back at her, tilting its head as if considering her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Who are you?”

The demon rubbed her eyes, growling a bit. 

“This has to be a dream.”

The demon grinned at her.

“Well, yeah it’s a dream, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

She slung an arm around her, the claws barely touching her skin.

“Come on, don’t you trust me? I’m you-“

“No.”

The demon stared at her before shrugging. “Well no matter.” The demon got up, and she could see black splotches across its arms before it pushed her. “You’ll see that you can

“Wait! Who are you?”

“Don’t you recognise me? I’m you. I’m going to be you.”

And then she woke up.

——————

Draft 4

Transformation/Alter Route

They were in the ruins, and she, along with the others had been looking for the eye of Cuvitidala when an arrow inscribed in the rocks caught her attention. Following it, she kneeled down to look closer at the ruins, intently looking for a sign when she spotted it.

Her surroundings changed, and a dragon flew beneath her, its eye looking straight at her, almost as if it could see through her.

Almost like it was passing judgement on her.

And then she fell.

Images surrounded her, and she gaped as she looked around, brief flashes of ancient civilisations of humans and demons shaking hands in the ruins, then another agreement formed after years of bloodshed after the initial promise. Was this what had happened with the previous promises? What was going on? Were those memories?

And if they were, that must mean that this must be-

“You’re seeing the past, yes.”

Then she landed, no longer falling as she fell forward from the sudden stop in momentum.

Turning behind to see where the voice had come from, Emma paused to process what she was seeing.

“Hmm... strange... a demon hiding in a human? No, that’s too outlandish.”

Emma stared at the demon, the single eyed dragon giving her a wary look as she did so. A demon hiding in a human? What did he mean? What was he? He looked like a demon, with his one eye on his face, but at the same time looked like a child, his hand that seemed to be holding a ball of light so characteristic of a human’s.

Then it clicked in her mind. No, no way. Was this...?

“Ah, I see,” his voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she felt as if she had just been judged by him. “Yes, you’re of both. A hybrid, then. But you’re not complete yet, are you? That won’t do.”

The demon child looked thoughtful, and she took her a while to process his words, and she looked down at herself, trying to see what he meant. A hybrid? If anything, he was one. But no, she was a human. She had always been a human.

...Hadn’t she?

The memory of the falling plates and the missing cut came to mind, and she wondered if perhaps there was indeed something more to it. The speed and the healing, both were something she associated with demons.

But where would she have even

Then it clicked.

Lewis. The claws that had impaled through her. How fast she had recovered and regained her mobility. The plates. The cuts.

No. Way. 

Had that momentary contact somehow managed to give her some of his abilities?

That couldn’t be right. There was no way.

“Hmm... it’s recent, but you deny...” He shook his head, almost as if he was disappointed with her. “Right now, you’re only seeing visions. You’ll need to find an entrance.”

It was then that she finally realised where she was, having been distracted  from his initial statements. This place... must be the place of ‘day and night’ then! Which meant...

“Hey, wait! Are you-“

The dragon roared, interrupting her before he looked at her once more. “Only someone that fulfils the conditions can enter. But Cuvitidala seems to see that you have potential, since your ideals are strong and steadfast. You’ve figured it out by now, then, but you haven’t gotten the chance to embrace your true self.”

“What do you mean, embrace-“

“Embrace the truth and come, and then... We’ll have such fun!”

Draft 3

Transformation Route

First it was the dishes.

“AH! Watch out!”

Emma turned behind towards the noise just as Don tripped, the plates that were to be set for dinner falling out of his arms. Immediately, she could guess what had happened: he must have tripped when he realised that there were some of the younger kids in front of him.

Then her mind kicked itself, and she could see the plates slowly drop, almost close to the ground, where Don’s feet were. That was bad. And with the little ones were so near him, too, the plates were bound to cut them!

She had to do something-

And then, before she knew it, she had singlehandedly picked up all the plates, catching all of them before any of them could shatter.

Almost immediately, amazed shouts filled the room, some of their owners running over to her to tug on her shirt.

“Woah, Emma’s so fast!”

“That was so cool! How did you do that?”

“Emma’s so awesome!”

Don grinned at her, taking the plates from her hand so that she could reciprocate the hugs. “That was incredible, man! You just started grabbing the plates from thin air, and-and- it was just cool watching you get the dishes. Thanks!”

She blinked, still trying to process what she had done before nodding, giving him a small wave in return as she tried to understand how she had managed to sprint over to collect the falling plates. 

After all, she had been at least 10 metres away from them, all the way at the other end of the room.

——————

Then it was the cut on her thumb.

Or rather, the lack of a cut on her thumb.

Only, there was no cut to tend to.

Not even a mark or scar remained on her skin, and the only sign that she hadn’t hallucinated getting the cut was the small drop of blood that sat there, having clotted for a while.

Had it really healed that quickly?

For the first time, she started to question if there was something else going on.

——————

Her suspicions were, unfortunately, soon confirmed.

Draft 2

Transformation/Alter Route

The second sign that something was off about her was how much faster her reaction time was.

(The first sign was what they all thought was a miracle, when she woke up much faster than anyone had expected after having been impaled, something that Sandy and Paula never got the luxury of having then.)

“AH! Watch out!”

Emma turned behind towards the noise just as Don tripped, the plates that were to be set for dinner falling out of his arms. Immediately, she could guess what had happened: he must have tripped when he realised that there were some of the younger kids in front of him.

Then her mind kicked itself, and she could see the plates slowly drop, almost close to the ground, where Don’s feet were. That was bad. And with the little ones were so near him, too, the plates were bound to cut them!

She had to do something-

And then, before she knew it, she had singlehandedly picked up all the plates, catching all of them before any of them could shatter.

It was in a dark abyss that she first met it.

From what she could recall, the man had been carrying her home after they had finally defeated Lewis, and she could almost remember the loud thumps of his steps as he ran across the woods, trying to get them back to the bunker. He had even tried talking to her to stay awake, but at some point in their journey back, she deduced that she must have passed out from all the blood loss.

So when she saw the demon sitting before her calmly, she figured that it was a hallucination that her oxygen deprived subconscious had created.

It was unlike any kind of demon she had met before. The closest thing that she could place this creature in her mind as was that it was a humanoid demon, but even then, she wasn’t too sure that it would be an accurate description of it.

Its hair was orange and wild, the characteristic bone white mask shielding most of its face apart from its eyes and mouth. The toned hue of its skin reminded her of her own, but there were black splotches all over it as well. Where the hands and feet of a normal human would be, the skin just stopped, revealing the claws to be just elongated bones that were sharp and looked like it could pierce through anything. The creature easily towered over her, and she briefly thought of Lewis from its characteristics.

Then its eyes opened, and she gaped at its green eyes which looked around the abyss that they were in before looking down at her.

It was like looking at a distorted reflection of her in one of the aforementioned funhouse mirrors that she had read about in books talking about amusement parks.

The creature tilted its head at her, almost as if it was scrutinising her before smiling, revealing the rows of sharp teeth in her mouth. 

“So it’s you.”

By no means did the smile seem to be malicious, but it still unnerved her, and she backed away from it by a bit, observing what it was doing.

“Who-who are you?”

“C’mon, what must I do to make you trust me?”

“Just another hallucination. Just ignore it Emma.”

She covered her ears, turning herself away from the hallucination. It was just a figment of her imagination, she told herself, and the more she ignored it, the faster it would go away. Definitely, she was just losing her mind at the moment, which was in no way a good thing, so the faster she could get out of this illusion the better it would be for everyone.

It was only after a moment of silence that she realised that it was too quiet, so she looked back, only to see the hybrid seemingly thinking  hard while staring intensely at her. 

Before she could even ask the human-demon hybrid snapped her claws, fangs showing as she grinned. “Ooh, I got an idea! I’ll give you a gift before you go!”

“A gift?”

The hybrid nodded, smiling at her as if it was a child that had just thought of something clever. “Yeah! No ill will, but it’ll take some time to arrive, so about... when we wake up.”

Initial Draft

Transformation Route

“Thank you. That was delightful. To you, for you, I have the utmost respect.”

Then she fell limp, unable to feel anything around her surroundings.

Only the desire to protect remained.

——————

At first, Emma didn’t think too much into the subtle hints.

It had been a few weeks since the harrowing trip to Goldy Pond. The wounds that had been inflicted upon her by Lewis quickly healed in a matter of weeks, and even before then, she could move around freely, no pain in her gut. She, everyone had thought it was a miracle that he hadn’t gotten her in other areas, perhaps even barely missing her vital organs, and all of them were overjoyed to find her alive and well. 

None of them had picked up the fact that she had recovered incredibly fast, all of them attributing it to her determination and resilience. None of them realised that there was no hint of her even being injured in the first place, most likely overjoyed by the fact that she was able to move around with ease rather than how was she capable of mobility in the first place. 

None of them questioned how Sandy and Paula were still lying in bed, still unconscious and unresponsive to the world, while she was awake, moving about freely as she roamed, with no pain causing any awkwardness in her movements.

Come to think of it, Emma wondered how she hadn’t realised that there was no disfigured mark, no scar that had remained on her stomach once she had removed the bandages while she was in the shower. Instead, the first thought that came to mind was how effective the medicine was, for her to have gotten away completely unscathed even though she had gotten the treatment later than them.

In fact, if it wasn’t for the two distinct holes in her clothes that had been patched up, sewn together with a string, she probably would have thought that it was all in her imagination, never thinking about how close she had come to death.

——————

Then the hints became as subtle as elephant stampeding into a crowded room.

She had felt a mild discomfort on the left side of her face, feeling as if there was something pressing against the hole that had been left after she had cut off her ear to get rid of the tracker. It was an annoyance, and her hearing seemed to be even more muffled than usual with the bandage, so she decided to go to the bathroom in the bunker to take care of that issue alone, not wanting any of her family to see what was left of her ear.

To say that she was shocked once she removed the bandage to rearrange it was a major understatement.

There, instead of a small bit of scarred skin that was left hanging on the hole that was her hearing, was a ear. A fully fledged ear, with slightly pinkish skin compared to her tanned skin that surrounded the ear. 

It took her more than a while to process that what she was seeing was her ear, her own ear, that somehow grown back. The horror only became greater the more that she accepted that reality. Was that even possible, for ears to grow back? No, she reasoned, for if it was, she would have known from Ray. 

So something else was at play here.

Why-How did she even get her ear back?

The battle between Lewis flashed past her mind, ending just as she had been impaled by his claws. That would certainly explain it, if somehow she had acquired his healing ability from the contact between his claw and her. That prospect made her smile as a part of her was excited to see that she didn’t have to worry much about getting physically injured, since this new found superpower would practically guarantee that she could fix herself. That was good. This meant that she could protect her family better. She would be able to take harder hits and bounce back faster, all without too much of a cost to herself such that they would be concerned about her well being.

Yet, another part of her was worried, and questions rushed through her mind. How would the other children take it? Should she even tell them? What if that wasn’t the only thing that she had gotten from him?

What if she turned into a cannibal, hungry for-

She stopped herself before she finished that question. The scissors was still in her hand, the one that hadn’t let go of the bandages to reach up to feel the smooth ear. What should she do?

What could she do?

Before she even knew it, the blades had reached up to the new ear, almost caressing it until she realised what she was doing. No. Any sign of blood, and they would immediately worry. Furthermore, she wouldn’t be doing anyone a favour if it turned out that this was a one time thing.

So she would have to hide it then, she decided, and the blade went to the bandages instead.

Don often teased her about how long she had spent in the bathroom, only to come out with an extra large amount of bandages stuck to the even part of her face, and she laughed along, not wishing for any of them to know the truth.

Besides, who knew? Perhaps that and his healing factor were the only things she got from her encounter with Lewis. 

Or at least that was what she hoped. The infection continued to spread, integrating itself into the core of her cells.

——————

“Woah! How did you get so tall, Emma?”

The regeneration and healing ability were, unfortunately, not the only things that she had gotten from Lewis. Or at least, that was what she deduced once she realised how much taller she was compared to the older three, including Ray who she practically towered as he sat quietly on the chair, barely giving her a glance as he poured through the books.

She grinned at the little ones, picking them up with ease and almost lifted them to the roof of the bunker library. Then, with an absolutely serious voice, looked into their eyes before answering the question. 

“Exercise, good eating habits,” she poked their tummies, earning a giggle from each one, “and genes. That’s why.”

Cries resounded.

“Aww, that’s no fair!”

“No fair! No fair! I wanna be tall like Emma!”

“So unfair!”

A chuckle broke through the grumbles of unfairness, and her small siblings gave way to let the man through as he looked up to her.

“You’re even taller than me now.” Lucas grinned before reaching up to pat her head. Then he sighed as he seemed to be making an imaginary line around his chest. “I still remember that you were this short when I met you.”

Yuugo made a line around his stomach instead. “Don’t you mean around here?”

“Hey! I wasn’t that short!”

The two adults looked at each other before snorting. “At least her energy made up for her height back then.”

“Yeah! I bet that she’s taller than the demons!” A small voice piped up, and suddenly he roared, pretending to scare of the imaginary demons.

They all laughed at that, and she held that moment close to her heart.

—————

She was frantic.

They had lost the base, Lucas and Yuugo were most likely dead, and now Dominic and Alicia were missing?

The sounds of gunshots being fired echoed through the forest, and her anxiety increased tenfold. Surely they hadn’t encountered a demon-

And there was Andrew who had ambushed them in the bunker, his face half blown off but still very, very much alive. Hadn’t there been an explosion earlier? The same one that killed Yuugo and Lucas? How was he alive?

Just what was he?!

“Fooound yoooou....Found the cattle......”

Her eyes widened in fear as she saw who he had in his grasp.

The gun was on Alicia’s temple.

He was going to shoot her.

He had already shot her family members.

Lucas and Yuugo has died, and he was still alive.

“WHO TOLDJA YOU COULD STAND?! ON YOUR KNEES!”

A sense of terror froze her in the spot as the man with a half melted face yelled. She couldn’t move, and stared blankly at them in shock before someone beside her tugged on her pants.

“Emma! Get down, otherwise he’s going to shoot Alicia and get everybody else!”

She could barely register the request, the words seemingly bouncing in her head. It was giving her a massive headache, the overwhelming sounds around her, an intense itching and burning feeling in her hands, the fear of being unable to save anyone.

Being incapable of saving anyone.

He was going to shoot Alicia and get everybody else.

Incapable of saving anyone.

He was going to kill her family?

Lucas and Yuugo had died, and here he was, almost like he was here to mock their deaths.

He-he-he-he-

She clutched at her head, the bandages on her right hand threatening to fall as she shook uncontrollably, but at the moment she couldn’t care less. Vaguely, she could tell that their enemy had stopped pointing their gun at Alicia, instead fixated at her. Good. That was good. Now he wouldn’t kill her.

Then a shot rang out and cries called out her name.

“Emma!”

It took her a while to process that he had shot her arm, only for the bullet to slowly be pushed out as the wound healed.

There was a brief silence from everyone, allowing her to think.

He had shot. He was planning to kill them.

She had to make sure that he never got to do that.

She had to protect them.

A searing pain burned away at her fingers, and before she knew it, she had appeared behind Andrew and Alicia, gently pushing Alicia out of his grasp before grabbing his neck with her claws.

“DON’T TOUCH HER”

With how much she towered over him, she lifted him with relative ease, making him choke before tossing him like a rag doll into the woods a good few metres away.

“Em...ma?”

The fear in her voice made her pause, before a grunt came in the direction that she had thrown him. 

Just how was he still alive?! 

She dashed over towards the noise, ignoring the calls behind her before finding the impossible man alive, still trying to get up after he had apparently broken one of his arms.

He should have been dead! He was going to come after them now! If he wouldn’t die from all that had been inflicted upon him, then she would just have to make sure that he died, and stayed dead. 

And what was more, she could teach him a lesson about hurting her family. 

No one was to lay a single finger upon her family.

She didn’t quite remember the rest of what happened, only noting the feeling of blacking out into someone’s arms.

——————

If calling her shocked after seeing that her ear had regenerated was an understatement, then calling her traumatised after finding out and realising that she had torn a living human apart until he was nothing but flesh and bone and organs was barely touching the tip of the iceberg on what she felt about what she had done.

Disgust. Remorse. Regret. Guilt. Anger. Shock. Fear.

The worse thing is that she couldn’t even see the damage that she had done, and most of the other features that she vaguely recalled the day before seemed to have vanished into think air, making the whole experience feel rather nightmarish rather than realistic.

She felt dead to her surroundings, unable to comprehend that she had basically murdered a human being. The bandages from her ear had been removed, and she gently pressed against the smooth skin with her bandaged hands, now completely wrapped in bandages that showed hints of red on its white surface.

She remembered when she had realised her ear had grown back.

Apparently her bones had elongated and pierced through her skin, resulting in the bloody claws that had gripped onto Andrew’s neck-

She buried her head in her knees, unable to continue looking at the bandages. It just served to remind her that she wasn’t human entirely.

Then she felt someone sit next to her.

Slowly, she turned towards the disturbance, only to see that it wasn’t just one person, but her whole family, both Grace Field and Goldy Pond, who was now surrounding her, sitting in a circle with her in it.

Weren’t they scared of her? Why were they-

Gilda reached forward, and she almost flinched, afraid of the physical contact before feeling her hand wipe away at her cheeks, something wet trailing off with that action. Ah, right, she had been crying as though she had been the one who died. That wasn’t right, and she knew it.

Then suddenly-

SLAP!

“Ow!” She cried out, rubbing against her cheek.

“So,” Gilda began, clearly barely restraining herself from delivering a second one, “what did we say about keeping things from us?”

“Eh? What?” Well this certainly wasn’t what she had expected in any way, but she barely had time to comprehend her question before Don waved his finger at her.

“Yeah, Emma! You made us really worried about you, especially when you ran off to get him.” 

“I-“

“We’re soooorrryy! We just wanted to see if Lucas and Yuugo were alright, and-and- thank you!”

“But... I...”

Other shouts overpowered her, and soon she found hugs and condolences from all directions. It felt comforting, to know that they didn’t care.

But Ray’s statement stuck with her the most.

“And no matter what you are, you’re still Emma. You’re not gonna get rid of us that easy.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled before hugging them back. 

Perhaps she had lost some of her humanity. Perhaps she wasn’t completely a human.

But at least she still had her family. She still

“Thanks, Lewis, for this.”

[unicyclehippo]

Do you think you'd be up to write a prompt where dina is jealous cuz another girl keeps flirting with ellie (who of course is always oblivious)? Thanks either way I love your writing and I can't wait for more. You're the best.

‘if it bothers you, you can always go rescue her.’

‘it doesn’t bother me,’ dina lies. then, ‘rescue?’

‘uh yeah? look at her. poor girl,’ howie sighs, lovingly. ‘she’s so fucking awkward.’

as though she heard the comment from all the way across the hall, ellie turns and levels a blank, weighted stare at howie. her gaze shifts slightly to include dina and dina watches as ellie smiles ever so faintly, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

hi, she mouths, before she returns her attention reluctantly to the girl next to her, trying again to shrug away the proprietary hand on her shoulder.

something twists in dina’s gut. it’s like the love already there…doubles. multiplies with the brief attention.

‘sounds like bacteria,’ howie grimaces. they’re a little drunk. dina ignores them.

it was a bad analogy anyway. it’s not growing; it ignites. a lick of flame that bursts to a roaring height as she swallows down the last of her drink. a whole burning planet gravitating toward the pull of ellie, the sun.

‘she’s a girl,’

‘oh my god howie i love you but shut up.’

‘stop waxing poetic out loud about ellie and just,’ they wave toward her. ‘go get her.’

‘i don’t want to be clingy—‘

‘you’ve been “clingy”,” howie says, air quotes and an eye roll included to show how they feel about the word, ‘since day one, dina. birth. ellie knows that and she loves it. go. to. her. or i will, because ellie doesn’t know how to extra- extric- get away from someone. unless,’ howie mimes punching and their drink slops over their hand. ‘whoops.’ they lick at the alcohol, grimace as it drips down their arm. ‘gross.’

‘i’m gonna leave you with that,’ dina tells them, pats them on the shoulder. she doesn’t hear their reply, already stepping into the crowd.

ordinarily, she would be dancing at a thing like this. and she has been, but ellie begged off to et a drink and dina went to the bathroom and when she returned, ellie was still bar-side, holding two drinks and chatting with some pretty red-headed woman who looks very good in leather. dina laughs off a few invitations, ducks between couples and a line of dancers, and when she exits out the other side of the crush she finds herself face-to-face with ellie, alone.

‘where’s your friend?’ she asks, bites her lip when she hears the acid in her words. ‘sorry-‘

‘she left.’ ellie jerks her chin away from them, but doesn’t take her smiling eyes off dina. ‘i told her i had to find my girlfriend.’

‘ah.’

‘seemed to disappoint her.’

‘figured out what she was after, did you?’ dina teases, and the little swell of jealously eases. eases further when dina presses closer to her, close enough to feel the soft swell of ellie’s belly pressed to hers, and takes the whiskey offered to her with a flutter of her eyelashes.

ellie rolls her eyes. ‘here we go. yes, okay, it took me a second, but yes i figured it out.’

‘that poor woman,’ dina sighs, shakes her head. ‘thought she had found a handsome young thing,’

ellie flushes, shakes her head.

‘only to discover she’s taken, and that she’s a bonafide fool.’

‘are you done?’

‘depends on what else is on offer.’

ellie’s eyes flash at the challenge. ‘i believe i promised to wear you out tonight,’ she drawls, and the warm thrum in dina’s belly spreads through her, following the warmth of the whiskey. ‘care to dance?’

dina downs her drink, presses ellie back against the wood of the bar. the glasses clink onto the countertop with a dull clink, reverberating through her fingers and feeling ever so much like a starting shot. she kisses ellie hard, shivers a little when ellie’s hands settle on her hips as always, warm and steady.

‘let’s show them all what they’re missing,’ dina says, pulling back, pulling her into the crowd, and ellie follows.