#i’ll patch up the couple of small holes in the parts where i wasn’t quite sure what i was doing yet

[randomgumwrapper]

y’all help. as a graduation requirement i need to give a fifteen minute speech in front of the whole school and every idea i come up with leads to professing my love of my best friend from middle school who i’ve since grown apart from but still talk to sometimes. the only other idea i can think of involves stating explicitly how much i hate a specific teacher. which also involves professing my love for my friend. so.

[imagineyourworld]

Peer Pressure

Kix x Fem!Princess!Reader 

Summary: Kix finds himself giving the princess medical assistance, and even though the two of them hit it off, no one else seems to like the two of them together

Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of a bombing (happened prior to the story), people being a-holes towards the clones 

-------

The first time Kix sa you he could have sworn time stopped for a moment. All his bleeding brothers, the destroyed droids and remains of the palace faded into the background the second he laid eyes on you. And when you ended up walking straight towards him his heart skipped a beat. Though he soon scolded himself for this when he saw that you weren’t exactly walking, but rather jumping on one leg, trying your best not to put any pressure on the other. Kix hurried over to you and without either of you having to say a single word he put his arm around your waist and guided you over to one of the makeshift beds along the tent walls.  “Thank you”, you said.  Those two words made Kix turn his attention away from your leg and to your eyes. Even though they haven’t been on this planet for very long, everyone in the 501st could tell that the inhabitants were not big fans of clones, most of them ignored them altogether while others were nothing but mean and cold. Your words might have been the first friendly ones he had heard since their arrival that didn’t come from one of his brothers.  “You’re welcome”, he replied, trying his best to focus on your leg again and not your gorgeous eyes. “What seems to be the problem?”  You shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. I was with my family, trying to escape the palace as soon as the alarms went off, but then there was this loud noise and next thing I knew I was all alone and the walls around me were nothing more than dust and pebbles.  Kix nodded along while you talked.  “Do you mind lifting your dress so I can have a closer look at your leg?” You did as you were told, lifting the hem of your dress inch by inch until Kix told you to stop. He could now see that your knee was at a weird angle and there was a long cut along your calf, which was still bleeding. He studied the dark fabric of your dress for a moment to see if there was any indication as to how much blood you’ve lost, but all he noticed that the dress, though now dirty and torn in some places, seemed incredibly expensive. You must be a very high up servant, or maybe even some kind of noble woman.  “Your knee is dislocated and you have a cut on your calf. It’s bleeding a lot, but not deep, so you should be on your feet in no time”, he explained as he began to disinfect your wound before wrapping it up. “Try not to put too much weight on this leg the next couple of days, a day or two of bedrest would help as well, if that’s possible. And the bandages should be changed once a day until the wound is closed. As for your knee, this will hurt for just a second, you can squeeze my arm, it might help with the pain.”  Once again you were a model patient and did as told while Kix tried not to let your warm hand on his arm affect him. He had put off parts of his armour a while earlier due to the hot climate and now there was only a thin layer of fabric between your skin and his.  “What’s your name?”, you asked as Kix put his hands on your knee, whether because you were really interested or to distract you Kix didn’t know, but he found that it didn’t really matter to him. You had asked for his name, not his number as the few other people he had spoken to on this planet, one of whom had only asked so he could report him for daring to touch him while placing a bacta patch on him.  “Kix. My name’s Kix”, he said and quickly followed up by asking for your name.  “I’m (Y/N)”, you said, though you rather screamed the last syllable in the short moment it took Kix to relocate your knee. “It’s very nice to meet you, Kix. And thank you so much for your help. What can I do to repay you?”  Kix, now finished with his work, looked at you in shock. Surely you had to be joking.  “I... “, he began, not sure what to say. In all his time as a medic, this was a question he had never heard.  “Maybe we could meet again for dinner and you could tell me what you’ve thought of”, you suggested with a bright smile on your lips that made Kix’s mouth dry. Did you just ask him on a date? Were you flirting with him?  “I’d like that. Especially after the day I’ve had”, he finally admitted.  Still smiling you leaned forward, placing your elbows on your legs and your head in your hands until your face was only inches way from Kix, who was still kneeling in front of you.  “Go on, tell me about your day.”  Kix scanned your face, looking for any trace of irony or cruelty, but when he didn’t find anything that might lead him to believe that you weren’t sincere he began.  “Well, it was a long day and a short night. Jesse, that’s one of the brothers I’m closest with, woke me at the crack of dawn because Hardcase had dropped his caf and cut himself on the broken cup trying to pick up the pieces. Once his hand was bandaged Echo and Fives came running through the medbay, trying to hide from Dogma, who they had pulled some sort of prank on. And before that could be settled Rex commed us to get us over here because the palace was under attack.”  Kix surprised himself with how much he had told you, how easy it was for him to talk to you and that you were smiling and laughing as he told his story.  “That sounds like an eventful day, much better than mine. Maybe I’ll get to meet your brothers one day”, you said wistfully.  Before Kix could reply to that he heard voices from the other side of the tent. As he looked over he saw you rolling your eyes out of the corner of his eyes.  “Where is she? Where is our daughter? I demand you bring us to her?”  He saw Rex trying to calm the screaming man down, but the woman next to him then began to yell at the Captain. Luckily just a moment later General Skywalker intervened and much to Kix’s dismay lead the couple over to him.  “Kix, the King and Queen say that their daughter was admitted to the medical tent. Have you by any chance seen the princess?”  Kix shook his head. He was pretty sure he would have noticed if anyone like the two monarchs in front of him would have been anywhere near the tent.  “There you are! (Y/N), we were so worried. What are you doing here? You should be with our own doctors, not this... clone”, the Queen exclaimed while, to Kix’s surprise, put both her hands on your cheeks. Though he didn’t hear your reply, since his attention was now captured by the King who had picked up his wife’s yelling.  “What do you think you were doing with my daughter? Were you trying to kidnap her? You better hope for your own good that you didn’t touch her, or else-”, he began before being interrupted by both you and Anakin.  “Dad!”, you yelled while Anakin told him not to speak to his men like that.  Though neither the King nor the Queen paid any attention to either of you. Instead they both took one of your arms and basically lifted you off the bed. All you could to before they all but carried out the tent was to turn around to look at Kix and mouth a single word.  “Sorry.”  All Kix could do was stare after you, standing completely still and not registering anything around him until he suddenly felt Jesse’s hand on his shoulder.  “Well done, vod. That’s the princess you were just flirting with.” 

-------

A short while later you were sitting in an armchair in the one part of the palace that, by some miracle, was still mostly intact.  The room was smaller than what you were used to, and the clothes you were wearing were a lot less elaborate than your usual dresses, and yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead it felt rather like you weren’t yourself at all, like you could do things you usually couldn’t. The thought brought an idea to your mind. You looked very different in this simple black dress, with no makeup and unstyled hair, if you were to leave the palace no one would stop you, they wouldn’t even recognize you.  Without thinking further about your idea you jerked into action, packing the small dinner on the table next to you in a basket you had found earlier and making your way out of the room and through the halls.  No one stopped you, no one even bothered to look at you until you arrived at your destination.  “Who are you? What do you want?”, a clone with the number five tattooed on his forehead asked. Though his voice was similar to Kix’s, he sounded a lot less friendly.  “I’m looking for a medic. His name is Kix. We met earlier today and I-”  “What? You’re gonna yell at him some more?”, another clone, this one without visible tattoos asked.  You shook your head and lifted the basket in your hands.  “I’m bringing him dinner as a thank you for helping me. And an apology for my parent’s behaviour.”  It seemed to dawn on the clones who you were once you mentioned your parents.  “You’re the princess!”, the tattooed clone exclaimed, though the other elbowed him in the side a moment later.  “Kix should be in the mess. That’s the third door to the right”, the other clone said, his voice a lot friendlier now, before the two of them let you pass onto the ship.  You soon found your way to the mess, though only once you stepped inside did it occur to you that finding Kix amongst all the other clones might be a bit more difficult than anticipated. As you began to look around the room you realized that one after the other all the clones had stopped eating and were now looking at you. You felt heat rising to your cheeks. Maybe you should have thought this through instead of assuming Kix would be around, waiting for you.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity of you looking around the room and every single men inside staring at you, one of the clones walked up to you. He obviously wasn’t Kix, but introduced himself as Jesse, a name you were at least familiar with.  “You must be the princess. If you’re looking for Kix, he just left for the barracks. Down the corridor, then left. If you might still catch him before he hits the ‘fresher.”  Relief flooded through your body.  “Thank you”, you called over your shoulder as you headed out the door to finally find Kix.  You saw him just as he was rounding the corner and called his name. Though you hadn’t expected him to stop dead in his track because as soon as you ran around the corner you ran right into him. Luckily Kix had quick reflexes and caught you before you could fall down.  “You weren’t just running, were you? What part of ‘don’t put weight on your leg’ didn’t you understand?”, he sighed, though there was a grin on his lips.  You shook your head as you tried your best to catch your breath. How dare he talk about your leg now instead of appreciating your grand gesture?  “I know, I’m sorry”, you said, even though you weren’t really, not if running was your way of catching Kix. “And I’m sorry for earlier. My parents... they’re... they can be... I’m sorry. I’m nothing like them, I promise. And look, I even brought the dinner I promised you as proof.”  Without hesitation you thrust the basket in Kix’s hands. He looked inside before turning back to you.  “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to have dinner. Clearly there are a million reasons you should stay away from me.”  You shook your head. How could he say that? Didn’t he notice how much you’ve grown to like him after spending just a few minutes with him and how that could easily turn into something more if he’d just agree to have dinner with you? Hadn’t he felt the sparks earlier?  “Maybe I don’t want to stay away. Maybe I want to have dinner with you, no matter what anyone may say or think.”  Kix simply handed you the basket, but before he could say anything else you tossed it to the side and stepped closer.  “Tell me you don’t want to spend time with me and I’ll leave, but don’t blame it on other people. This isn’t about what my parents think, what your brothers may think, this is about you and me and the fact that I’ve never felt about anyone like I feel about you.”  A loud sigh left Kix’s lips. He reached to take your hands in his and gently stroked along your knuckles.  “You don’t even know me, mesh’la.”  You spoke enough Mando’a for that little word to give you a bit of hope.  “We can change that. We can take it slow, no pressure, no expectations. Just one question: Will you have dinner with me?”  Kix looked deep into your eyes as his answer, one single word, left his lips. 

-------

I might write two seperate part twos to this story, one in which Kix agrees to dinner and one in which he doesn’t, if that’s something you’d like to read. 

As always, I’d love to hear some thoughts and feedback <3

[scathecraw]

BBRae Week 2021 - Day 1: Unconventional Kiss

Raven had been dancing around the issue for weeks now, and both she and Gar knew it. There had been a few near misses after a date gone well, a few breathless close calls during training, and one precipitous moment in the kitchen that fell apart when the smoke detector signaled their distraction.

They had been good dates. Very good dates, to be quite honest. Raven had expected that they would go nearly that well, and that had been why she had held off for so long. With all the emotional vulnerability and insightful talks and fantastic company and so many other things that came with dating someone you had been attracted to for years, she knew that the other shoe would drop, and she would have to just plunge in headfirst. And Gar had been patient – he wasn’t one to rush, especially with her. But he wanted it. And, god help her, she wanted it, too.

A perfect first kiss. The First Kiss, for both of them, hung up on each other for so long that they had never made any real attempts to find anyone else. Kori’s magazines had promised that the first kiss was always awkward and had to be refined by, hrm,repeated practice, but that was only a small part of the fear that gripped Raven when she thought of actually, really putting lips to lips.

It wasn’t Gar. She fully expected him to be just as bad as she was for a while (and likely longer given how quick she could pick things up). It wasn’t even what might… come after. Not as such. It was just… just… it was Important. Capital “I” Important – that things go well. Despite the promise of a bad first kiss by seemingly everyone who had ever kissed, it had to go right. Too wet or too dry, wrong head tilt, wrong duration, whatever – but she wanted to kiss him and do it over and over again and what if he didn’t want to or what if there was no chemistry or what if she sneezed or got so nervous she vomited or any number of things that would, according to all her latest nightmares, put him off wanting her the way she wanted him.

And he seemed so damn blithe about it. Like he couldn’t be less worried, even though she had felt his pulse race and could practically hear his internal monologue turning into a full blown soliloquy. He had that placid smile and those sparkling eyes and smelled like warmth and pine and it was so stupid how he wouldn’t just admit how nervous he was so they could be nervous together.

No, she had to be the mature one and feel all the butterflies for them both. She could practically hear his corny joke about never getting butterflies because he was vegetarian. Stupid Gar and stupid kissing.

It would happen. She would make it happen. And it wouldn’t be perfect, or probably even a very good kiss, but it would be right. Eventually.

____

There was an awful lot of noise and fleeing civilians for an evening out, even at the pier.

Nightwing sighed from atop his favorite ride at the boardwalk, the Ferris Wheel, as he retrieved his communicator and alerted the team. “Titans, we’ve got work to do. Something big is causing trouble at the east entrance. Star and I are on our way and will meet you there.” With that, he stood up in the precariously rocking carriage and Starfire lifted him by the arms, taking off in the direction of the disturbance. Cyborg, heretofore incognito on a date, immediately excused himself and waded through the crowds, shedding his holo-disguise. He was alerted to his passing teammates by a green blur, and called out to Raven as she passed, asking for a ride on one of her ink-black levitating discs. She obliged and they took off after Changeling’s racing avian form.

Gar was the fastest one to respond in these situations. Superhuman reactions and mobility got him to the trouble faster than any of his teammates, and he was proud of it. It meant that he was the first one to  engage the enemy, which was a dangerous gambit when he didn’t know what the enemy was, but someone had to be first on the line when every second was a danger to innocent people. In this case, it was more an annoyance than any real threat. Kitten was throwing a very public and destructive temper tantrum, as she tended to do within a few weeks of release/escape.

Her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Fang, was nearby and suffering the brunt of the auditory assault while a swarm of mutated grubs ate their way through stalls and prizes alike. Kitten was waving the control device as she gesticulated wildly, and the chance to end the whole debacle in one fell swoop was too tempting.

Without waiting for backup or giving away his presence, Changeling darted forward as a seagull, beak agape as he neared the remote. He had timed it perfectly, if not for Fang’s suddenly outstretched spiderleg. The blow sent him tumbling into a pile of cheap stuffed animals and he transformed back into himself. The arguing couple immediately turned their ire on him without ever stopping their argument.

“And now look what you’ve done! Your stupidity got this idiot involved! Why couldn’t you just win me a stupid teddy bear like a normal boyfriend?” Kitten raged as she hammered at the controller, causing the grubs to turn their attention towards the dazed and prone Changeling. Fang launched webbing at him, working at cross purposes as the grubs and giving Changeling just enough time to roll out of the way.

“This is not my fault. You know these games are rigged! Why would I give the money I stole to these scam artists?”

“Because you are supposed to! It’s what boyfriends do! They do stupid stuff because I want you TO!” Kitten screamed and threw her remote onto the ground where it cracked and fizzled. Instead of the expected de-metamorphosis from vicious gnawing grubs to harmless caterpillars, there was a rumbling from deep inside the snack stall and a mass exodus of larvae from the vicinity. Gar had just gotten to his feet when a much larger, toothier, and more armored wriggler burst from the shoddy wooden confines, writhing and shrieking even more shrilly than Kitten, and headed directly towards her and Fang in a headlong charge.

Apparently Kitten’s shouting was enough to distract both of them from their imminent death by squirming tank, and Changeling had to make a tough split-second decision – let them suffer the consequences of their own stupidity, or put himself in harm’s way to save them.

It wasn’t much of a choice. Leaping forward, he transformed into a rhino, a fast moving locomotive of heavy armor and muscle and slammed headfirst into the tank sized larva, diverting it and being whipped aside by the unexpected followthrough of the tail end of the grub.

Raven’s disk touched down just in time to see his head collide with a thick support post that held up the boardwalk, and the sounds of argument fell silent as Kitten and Fang wordlessly assessed the situation and fled. Cyborg called out “Get B. I’ll get the worm,” and launched after the creature.

Raven raced to Garfield’s side, seeing the heavy gash and road rash from sliding across the wood. She assessed him as quickly as possible, noting the broken ribs, bleeding, and, most concerning, the lack of breathing. She channeled her power, reaching her soulself into the unmoving shapeshifter on the ground, and urgently repaired his most vital injuries.

The head wound would wait, they always bled more and looked worse than they were. First the broken ribs, eased out and stabilized enough to hold for a little while. Then the badly punctured lung. As the trapped air was removed and the hole patched, she expected him to cough, sit up, and make a dumb joke. Instead he just lay there, silent. His pulse was fine, and there was no reason for him to be so still.

She did all the steps that the Titans’ first aid training laid out for her, making sure his airway was clear, no pressure preventing his breathing or hidden wounds that would cause more damage, then started mouth to mouth.

It only took a few breaths, as if his body had simply not realized for some seconds that he was able to breathe normally again, before the first unassisted rasps began. Raven let out a sob of relief, feeling like his breath resuming was directly connected to her own oxygen. She continued healing him, clearing his head of blood and strengthening the broken ribs before his eyes opened with a groan.

“Did ya get the license of that truck that hit me?” he said, weakly.

Raven nearly hit him. “That was by far the stupidest thing I have ever seen you do. What were you thinking, charging in like that?”

“Aww c’mon, Rae. I had ta’. And I’m sure you’ve seen me do stupider things.”

“None of them had you puncture a lung and stop breathing, you fool. You didn’t need emergency resuscitation when you tried to do a standing backflip.” A jolt of power zapped him with an icicle of cold to the chest, and he coughed.

“At least I stuck the landing this time, heh. I think I can sit up. Thanks for fixing me up, Doctor Rae.”

She glared, and kept glaring as Nightwing checked in. Fang and Kitten had been apprehended almost peacefully by him and Starfire, and Cyborg had incapacitated the grub easily. She reported the situation, not once taking her eyes off her idiot of a boyfriend.

He rolled to his feet, only a little gingerly, and retrieved the broken pieces of the remote control for Cyborg to repair and reverse the changes to the swarm.

As he stooped down to pick up the last pieces, he stopped, and a look of realization dawned on him.

“Wait, you gave me CPR? Like, mouth-to-mouth?”

“Of course. You weren’t breathing and you needed oxygen before any working brain cells died.”

“Y’know,” he said, sitting back down beside her, “I think that counts as our first kiss.”

Raven went still. It couldn’t. It wasn’t even a kiss, it was legitimate medical treatment. But then again, it wasn’t very good, it was at a weird angle, and there was even the terrible fear that she’d vomit out of worry. It checked all the boxes for the perfect terrible first kiss.

He interrupted her musing, “Too bad I don’t remember it. Maybe we could see if trying again might jog some memories.” He reached his arm across her shoulders, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh shut up,” she said, and pulled him in for a completely butterfly-free second first kiss.

AO3 FF.net

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse of kidnapping. Again, details of murder/crime scenes, curse words.

A/N: Hello, hello, hello! So, again, I find myself having to cut this in half. I originally planned on the team getting to you at this point in the story but I got a little carried away. I’ve been thinking about this series so much that it’s ridiculous. Low-key wish I’d been able to direct a CM episode like this. The things I could do with a camera... solely focused on Matthew for a 45 minute episode. Heh. Anyways, remember to like, comment, reblog, send me asks, and basically do the job of producing serotonin for me like my brain is supposed to do naturally. Thank you so much for sticking around and I’ll be sure to get the next part out to you ASAP!

___

[ Part One | Part Two | Part Three ]

It was hours later before Spencer felt the incessant buzzing of his phone against his thigh.

Immediately annoyed and already tired of the day, he didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID before sending it straight to voicemail. Blindly, he rummaged around in the bottom of his satchel for his keys. Spots danced across the back of his left eyelid as he tried to rub the exhaustion away.

Everything about today had been awful. From finding out the girl of his dreams, who he had only known for three weeks, mind you, could be a serial killer to the fact that, without you, nothing made any sense in this case. Even if you weren’t the unsub, you were an integral piece to finding out who was.

After you had left the office earlier this afternoon, Spencer had made it his mission to investigate every other person connected to you. He’d even gone so far as to track down your father to the other side of the globe, having somehow made his way to Europe in order to stay out of you and your mother’s lives.

Try as he might, every possible lead led to a brick wall spray painted to say, ‘She’s the killer.’ Having spent most of the day trying to convince himself that you were the unsub, he was tired of fighting his instincts for fear of compromising himself. Something wasn’t right in this investigation and he just couldn’t figure out what it was.

When his phone started to buzz again as he pushed the key into the key hole, he couldn’t help the sudden surge of anger that seemed to take over his body. Hastily yanking one hand from the door, he reaches into his pocket and presses the answering button.

“Hello, this is Dr. Reid.” His tone is harsh and mechanically echoes back into his ear. Whoever is on the other side of the line is quiet for one second, then two. For five seconds no one responds and Spencer has the time to balance the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so that he could go about removing his bag and shuffling into his car.

“You really thought it was her, didn’t you, Dr. Reid?” Although the natural pitch of the voice suggests a woman, or maybe even a young boy, there is an underlying tone that suggests that it’s a man. Spencer is frozen in place, his bag sitting in the passenger seat of his car, one hand on the inside of the door and the other on the steering wheel.

Slowly, he reaches up to relieve his shoulder from the duty of holding his phone, his long fingers curling around the device. His eyes squinted, the way they usually did when he was thinking. With his other hand, nervously, he reaches up to push away a curl that has escaped from behind his ear.

“Who is this?” He regrets the question the moment it falls from his lips. Someone who has gone the painstaking lengths that this man has gone through to keep himself out of the investigation would not simply reveal his identity when no one even had a suspicion of him.

“Wrong question, Doctor. Try again.” Swallowing past the lump that has started to form in his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action, Spencer stretches back across the driver seat of his car to grab his bag. The leather strap digs into the palm of his hand and he drags it toward him, feeling like he was stuck on rewind as he goes about undoing everything he’d just done.

“What do you want?” The click of the door lock is the only sound for three seconds before the man responds again, a sadistic excitement escalating the pitch of his voice.

“Out of life? From a specific restaurant? Be specific in your questioning, Doctor.” He laughs a little breathlessly. In the moments where he doesn’t talk, Spencer strains to hear anything that could help him, but he can’t even hear the guy breathe let alone identify background noise.

“What is your purpose in calling me?” Getting back into the building is a hassle while on the phone, but he manages it nonetheless. There would be no sleeping tonight after a call like this. The elevator button glows a pale yellow as Spencer stabs it with one of his long fingers. For now they are steady, his hands that is, but the full effect of what is happening and what it means hasn’t actually hit him full force yet.

“To inform you of two things; the first being that you are wrong. I killed all those people and I killed them because of you.” The breath in his throat hitches. All of his worst dreams and nightmares have come crawling out of the woodworking and across his skin like thousands of tiny spiders.

“The second being that I’ll be hanging out with our mutual friend for a while, so you may not see her for a little bit.” There is a creaking of a door before he hears you. Your voice is already hoarse from screaming and the sound of restraints clacking against a concrete flooring puts the picture of you in a dungeon deep into his head.

“Spencer?! Spencer his name i-” The sound of a hand making contact with skin makes Spencer’ blood boil with rage.

Curling into the corner of the elevator, hunching his shoulders into himself and covering an ear with the palm of his opposite hand, Spencer speaks slowly and deliberately into the speaker.

“Do not touch her.” The man on the line chuckles, reaching out to run a finger along the edge of your jawline. You snatch your head away, your slapped cheek already turning pink, and push back against the wall.

“I’m afraid it’s already too late for that. Happy hunting.” The doors of the elevator open as soon as the line goes dead. Everything in Spencer kicks into overdrive, his mind flying so fast that he could barely manage to keep up with it himself.

Hotch, ready to leave for the day, stands in the opening. The tired look in eyes only grows when he sees the young profiler standing in his way, his face drained of blood and his phone still desperately clutched to his ear.

“What’s happened?”

Not so far away, the door to the empty, concrete basement shuts you in by yourself. Around your ankle is a handcuff attached to a car chain that is anchored to the floor. If you crawl to it, dragging your injured leg behind you, you can see the shoddy soldering done to create this makeshift dungeon.

In the corner is a mattress with a thin cotton blanket probably from dollar general or somewhere equally as cheap. A lamp sits beside it, the wooden bottom nailed into the floor to keep you from using it as a weapon. The only other thing is a wooden chair that is planced just below a high rectangle window. A couple of desperate shakes against the leg confirms that it is also nailed to the floor.

With nothing of use, save maybe the blanket, you go about taking a collection of your injuries.

The top of your head is leaking a steady stream of blood that drips down the side of your face and sticks your hair to your cheek. The sight of so much blood coming from your head is alarming at first, but just as quickly as you started to panic, you remember that head wounds can bleed quite a lot. No matter how small.

On the opposite side as your head injury is a deep cut on your cheekbone. It has stopped bleeding, dry blood clogged around the torn skin and flaking along your cheek when you run your finger over it.

Your thigh is a different issue all together, the knife wound throbbing with pain no matter how you shift or apply pressure. You’ve coated your hands in gloves made of your own blood trying to staunch the bleeding, hissing and whimpering the whole time.

All three injuries had happened in a matter of minutes, starting with the knife to your thigh.

You drove for an hour and a half toward nowhere in particular, only pulling off the road when the gun jammed into your neck and Harvey snapped at you from the back.

“Turn right on the dirt road.” The tiny car bumped and bounced around the dirt and gravel, driving straight for another fifteen minutes. You were surrounded by nothing but trees and hills and although you’d been familiar with the area where you’d pulled off the road, you weren’t sure where you were.

When the gun jammed back into your neck and Harvey screamed for you to stop, you slammed so hard on the brakes that he rocked forward and hit his head on the back of the passenger seat. The crunch of his breaking nose was sickening to your ears, but the bite of the seat belt digging into your collarbone and neck was enough to keep you from vomiting.

“You bitch!” He cried, the hand not holding a gun to your neck flew up to catch the blood that fell from his nose. Despite his attempts, a drop or two still managed to fall to the floor and soak into the fabric. His DNA would be on this car, you could only hope that he was in some sort of system. Even now, after everything you’d been through today, you still trusted the team of FBI Agents to find you before it was too late.

The safety on the gun made a clicking noise, your entire body freezing in place as you looked at everything around you. You were in a big dirt field, trees surrounding a patch of land that may have once been the grounds for a home. Now, only your car, a red SUV, and red soil were the only things there to see.

Harvey moved around in the back seat, you could see him in your rear view mirror as he pulled tissues from his pocket and shoved them into his broken nose. When he was finished he pulled out a pocket knife. His eyes were two beady slits of black as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“We’re going to get out of this car, and get into that car right over there. I’ll get in the driver’s seat, and you get in the trunk. Understood?” Sweat slicked your hair to your temples as you shook your head, your grip on the steering wheel so tight that your fingertips had started to tingle.

“You aren’t a good shot, Harvey. The moment we get out of this car, I’ll run.” The knife in his hand popped to attention at your words, gleaming in the sunlight. Somehow, it was only four o’clock in the afternoon and you had already been through hell.

“You won’t be able to.” He said, his hand shooting forward and sinking into your leg. Through the shock of it all, you’d barely felt it even after he pulled the bloody knife back and flipped it shut. You gaped at the wound, watching as the blood seeped out, soaked into your pants, and smeared onto the leather covering of your seat.

The back door opened, the car still alive and thrumming underneath you as he hurried over to your side of the car. You didn’t think, you just acted, throwing the car out of park and letting the adrenaline pumping through your veins mask the pain it caused you to slam on the gas.

Maybe you would have made it, drove out of here and been able to make it to a hospital before you bled out in your own car, but it had been raining nearly nonstop for three weeks and your car was not made to go fast in mud. Your tires spun long enough for Harvey to throw your door open and slam the butt of his gun into your head, causing your face to slam into the steering wheel and render you unconscious.

By the time you came back to yourself, Harvey had been carrying you down the steps and into a basement or cellar of some kind. You had no idea where you were or how long you had been out, only that your entire body was sore and cold.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good. I wanted to apologize about earlier, you just made me a little angry. But we’re better now. I even took those bloody clothes off you. I’ve got your room made up for you and if you’re good, I might let you talk to a friend of ours.” His tone is cheerful, his dark eyes complimenting the dark bags underneath them.

Harvey had been in several of your classes when you went to Georgetown, a friendly face amongst all the older kids who used to sneer at you when you tried to do anything. You wouldn’t actually say you were friends, just two people who were kind to each other. Later, once you parted ways after graduation, he became the personal assistant of your agent. He told you he was just trying to make ends meet while he was going back to school for his masters. It was such a surprise to see you again!

Then last month he quit after the death of his mother, thanking your agent for the experience and moving back to whatever town it was he used to lived in that you never bothered to ask about. Agents have multiple clients, yours was no exception, so you thought nothing of the change in personal assistants based solely on the fact that you barely noticed. Her life didn’t revolve around you and yours didn’t revolve around her.

But now, locked in a basement wearing nothing but your underwear and a tank top, blood soaking through a bandage around your thigh, with the really cute man you’d based a character on believing that you were a serial killer, you wish you’d noticed him more.

...

Garcia was the one to suggest looking at the security footage of the parking lot. She’d been clacking away on her tablet and trying to not seem disappointed about being dragged back to the BAU so quickly, when someone asked where you would have gone from here.

“What if he took her from here?” Everyone had looked at her with varying degrees of peculiar looks. Someone being kidnapped from the parking lot of a building full of FBI Agents? It would be comical if kidnappings weren’t a serious issue. Ironic. That’s the word Penelope was looking for. It was ironic.

“I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look at the security footage but her lawyer walked her to her car, it was broad daylight. What are the-” Prentiss’ mouth snaps shut and her lips purse just a little when Penelope brings up the video on the big screen.

Just thirty minutes before you walk outside, a small and stocky figure jimmies open your back door and slides in. He must slide to the passenger side of the backseat because he disappears from view. While he isn’t dressed in an extremely unusual manner, the hat and the black hoodie he is wearing help to hide his identity from the camera hanging over him.

Fast forward thirty minutes and all eyes trained to you as you drop your keys and bend to pick them up. Guilt hits every single member on the team, Spencer probably more than the rest, when they watch your head drop into your hands once you’re in the confines of your car.

An arm extends across the backseat, coming into view of the camera as the unsub presses a gun into your neck. In a matter of fourty-five seconds, you start the car and pull out of the parking spot.

“So we can rule out Jeremy.” Spencer says plainly, shuffling the papers in front of him as he thinks. Across the table Hotch nods his head in agreement. Jeremy was tall, maybe an inch shorter than Spencer, and he while he had an athletic build it was more lean muscle than the wide and stocky build the unsub had.

Penelope is quick to gather her things and head for her office, already planning on trying to follow your path through traffic cameras. It would be a grueling process, but it was the least she could do after digging through your life to, unintentionally, frame you for eight murders you didn’t commit.

“We interviewed everyone she has a connection to, in state or not. She’s an extremely low-risk victim, her circles don’t run that big.” Morgan has his own tablet pulled into his lap and he tilts his chair this way and that. A coin weaves in and out of his fingers and his forehead wrinkles as he goes over the list in his mind.

“Then we’ve already talked to our unsub, we just have to figure out which one it was.”

The first names to go are those out of state; your mother, your father, your best friend, and a handful of people you were connected to through the publishing firm. While the remaining names are few in numbers, it still puts Spencer on edge. They didn’t have the kind of time to be wasting energy of persons of interest, they needed one name identifying their unsub.

Nevertheless, the names are split amongst the group of profilers who work tirelessly through the night. The sun soon rises and glares through the window of the BAU conference room, putting Spencer Reid right into it’s spotlight.

There are bags under his eyes, eyes that take longer to open every time he blinks. He’s read the same paragraph eight different times, his cheek perched against the heel of his palm and his elbow propped on the tabletop. When he pushes back from the table, taking the file with him as he tries to walk away the exhaustion, it isn’t for the first time that night.

All he can think about is that final look you gave him as you walked out the door. It was a look of complete and utter betrayal, like you’d been trying to convince yourself that he was somehow oblivious in your being accused of the murders and seeing him there had been a punch of truth in the gut. He’d gone forward when you stumbled, reflexively reaching out to steady you on your feet before his mind could process the action.

Spencer has been doing that since he met you, trying to protect you like he was a giant ball of bubble wrap around you. He’d done it that day in the bookstore, throwing all precautions to the wind when he held the back of your head to keep you from hitting that bookshelf. He’s done it several times at a coffee shop you both enjoy visiting on his days off, physically maneuvering your body when he realizes that your current trajectory will cause you to ram your hip into a table corner.

One time, he’d been walking with you across the street when a man on a bicycle had come flying out of nowhere. You’d been just a step in front of him, your head tilted over your shoulder and your hands flying around with animation as you told him a story. Truly, he wasn’t sure how he knew to reach out and grab your shoulders, you have a way of telling stories that makes the entire world fall away. Yet, as if he was Spider-Man or something, every cell in his body suddenly cried out and he didn’t hesitate in pulling you back.

The force Spencer used to pull your body into his chest had sent you both tumbling to the sidewalk behind you.

“Are you okay?” You’d said, turning so that you were hovering over him with the sun framing you like a halo around your head. Surely you could feel the rapid escalation of his heartbeat with the way you tenderly place one of your small hands over his chest.

In the end he had to pull you to the side of the busy street to put a band-aid on your elbow where it had hit the concrete. It had been in the bottom of your bag and it had Scooby-Doo on it.

Despite his eidetic memory, some moments always manage to fade a little more than others. Some moments stick out more, like when you had reached out to smooth a stray curl away from his face. Your fingers were featherlight against his temple, your head tilted just a little to the side, and a soft smile stretched your lips.

“You’re my guardian angel.”

Some guardian angel he was, accusing you of murder on eight accounts and then letting you be kidnapped by someone who had no qualms about slapping you. God only knows what else he was comfortable with.

“I’ve got a lead!” Garcia burst into the room, her chest heaving as she sent videos and pictures to the screen for everyone to see. Spencer couldn’t see her face as she bent over her tablet, punching in information and instructions, but he nearly peppered it with kisses when she started to explain what they were all seeing.

“I managed to track (Y/N) to a little town about and hour and a half away when she, probably on purpose, ran a red light just in front of a gas station.” The video of your car creeping through a four-way traffic light until it turned red and captured you on camera was time stamped for yesterday afternoon around four o’clock.

“If you look closely, she turns onto a dirt road just a few seconds later,” Sure enough, every eye in the room watches as your car disappears behind a cluster of trees across from the BP on the left side of the video. “Satellite pictures show that little dirt road leads to one house that burned down a year ago.”

Mouths open, cogs turns, but Penelope Garcia once again proves her intelligence when she merely waves one hand in their direction and uses the other hand to pull up several documents and articles.

“Don’t sweat it. There’s no connection at all. Belonged to a Martin and Elisa Lewis back in the fifties before it was abandoned in the seventies. It was a local haunt where teenagers went to smoke, get drunk, have parties, and do the crazy and reckless things teenagers love to do. One of these reckless things led to a fire and burned the place down. But what’s important is what leaves this place fourty-eight minutes and twenty seconds after (Y/N)’s car enters.”

The video jumps forward in time, resuming as a red SUV pulls off the road and comes back for the stoplight. They can’t manage to get a license plate, the car being recently purchased by the unsub and the paper temporary being stuck to the inside of a tinted window, and they don’t manage to get a good image of the unsub driving. It feels, for a quarter of a second, as if there is no lead at all, until Spencer jumps to his feet.

“We need to see if her car is still there.”

The hour and a half drive takes fifty minutes with their lights on, mud kicking up beneath their tires as they pull into the empty lot. Your car sits abandoned in the middle, your back tires sunk into a pile of mud. The mass collection of blood on your driver’s seat makes Spencer nauseas. Rossi gives him a reassuring pat on the back.

It does nothing for Spencer’s nerves. He is truly the worst guardian angel ever.

[blueluneacy]

Black Ocean

I wrote another Labyrinth AU piece, this time with Bruno. Bc I can. I have an idea for literally every fucking character in this Au so rip y’all who don’t like it

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: razors, blood, deception, ocean, implied drowning??

It was a lot easier when you weren’t traveling alone. You felt yourself smiling a lot more, happier more of the time. Your travels didn’t feel like a chore, and there was someone to watch your back, finally. Of course, it wasn’t always like that.

When you first met Bruno, you had bumped into him while traveling through a large desert-like portion of the maze, ready to drop dead of thirst and exhaustion. Bruno found you and hauled you out of that wretched place, and although the two of you were suspicious of each other, the idea that the other was not a beast in disguise still not completely at bay, you agreed that if the two of you were ever to meet again in this terrible place, you would exchange the knowledge you had learned while you were apart. It seemed amicable, at least.

It must’ve been weeks before the two of you found yourselves in the same place again, this time bumping into each other while lost in the Great Dio’s Maze of Roses, a terrible place where the awful beast would entrap people in a maze full of thrones Rose bushes, taller than any wall constructed by man, only to wait for them to collapse from exhaustion and allow him to drain their bodies of all blood. Some even said that he could suck out their very soul, ending the cycle of deaths and resetting. The two of you made a deal to help each other evade the terrible Beast, hoping that if there were two of you, you could work as the other’s support from falling into despair. The two of you only barely scraped past, Bruno getting the idea to set some of the brush on fire in order to escape, letting Dio get lost in the smoke. For a moment, you actually had lost Bruno in the smoke too, leaving the Rose Labyrinth by yourself, and you had a twinge of fear. It wasn’t as if you cared about Bruno, but you didn’t wish the fate of being Dio’s snack upon anyone. When you heard his coughing, you felt yourself sigh in relief, going over to him as he leaned on you for support.

“Bastard… Sorry, you know how Beasts like to talk. He was willing to drown in the smoke just if it meant that I would drown with him.”

And since then, both of you quite convinced that the other wasn’t a beast in disguise, there was a mutual pact to travel together. It wasn’t spoken at first, simply the idea that both of you “happened to be heading this way.” But after a few days of stubbornness on your part, and kind gestures on Bruno’s, you relented and agreed the two of you would become partners in your journey to the exit.

And then, you got to know Bruno, got to actually know him as a person and not another face on your journeys. You had to admit, he was a handsome man, tall and muscular, with black hair he tied back to feel from falling into his face.

“I was a fisherman before all this. I’d like to get back, I’m sure that there are people waiting for me back home.” He would tell you as the two of you sat around a fire, hoping that the gray would get just a bit darker so it would be easier to sleep. “I’m sort of missing the ocean at this point.”

Bruno was an open, honest person. He would tell you exactly how he felt, listening to you ready to squabble about what direction the two of you were to take, only to give you a calm reply, telling what he thought. He was always able to convince you, and you sort of hated that about him. Bruno really was a born leader, but you were stubborn. He would relent a few times, when he thought it wasn’t important, like what the two of you should have for dinner or the type of tinder for the fire. It wasn’t until the incident with the Blood Beast that you started to realize that you might be in too deep with your feelings about Bruno.

He had saved you. You had gotten upset with the man and rushed head first into a beast’s maze, not realizing you were heading right into his den before your limbs started to freeze up, before you started to cough up metal scrap mixed with blood.

“Foolish little human, running straight into my maw…” You heard the terrible thing growl, and god, you thought this was it. This was the end, and it was going to be a painful one. But right as you were about to give up, to give in and hope that you would awaken at the beginning quickly, Bruno was able to throw some rocks to distract the beast, before grabbing you and starting to drag you off. Of course, it only took moments for the Blood Beast to realize what had happened, but apparently in the time where you were left coughing up razors, Bruno had used his knot tying skills to work and left a snare for the beast, grinning as he heard the pained yelp as the Beast ended up trapped upside down. Bruno easily scooped you up into his arms, running off with you and back out into the open wilds of the Labyrinth.

“What were you doing, rushing into there like that?! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Bruno fussed as he laid you down, moving to grab the meager first aid supplies the two of you had in one of your packs.

“I would’ve come back… It’s fine, you put yourself in danger just to get me… That was pretty stupid of you, to be honest…” You tried to reason, just shrugging yourself off. You were right. You would’ve been fine in the end, your death would have been one of many you’ve experienced at this point, but Bruno just gripped your hand.

“Don’t say that. If you died, we probably would never see each other again. And I honestly don’t think I could bear that, Tesoro.” Bruno’s voice was low, genuine, and you couldn’t help but gasp. In all your stupidity and stubbornness, Bruno was always there for you, always helping you when you fell down, that you couldn’t help but tear up.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” You couldn’t get another word out, your tears becoming too heavy and you buried your face into Bruno’s chest. He paused for a moment, unsure of what to do, before finally wrapping his arms around you.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you (Y/N).... You’re okay now, he won’t be able to reach us out here….” Bruno’s voice was soothing and warm, something you could attach to, keep close with. He was real, not like this constantly changing Labyrinth the two of you were trapped in. Your worst fear was being realized, finally. You were in love with Bruno, with a man you had met in the middle of hell.

“Let’s rest here for the evening. You need to rest.” Bruno told you, pulling you off him to set up camp. You whimpered, looking over him with wide eyes.

“But… We haven’t made any progress today, I don’t want to be the reason we’re being held back…” You mumbled, only for Bruno just to sigh, giving you a sad smile.

“I don’t care about that. You need to rest, and that’s all that matters.” He told you. You nodded, your heart warming up as you laid back down, shocked and pleased at being taken care of. Of having someone else to rely on, to not have to constantly be afraid for your life. That night, you slept in Bruno’s arms. It was the best sleep you’ve ever had in this hell.

Your travels became a lot happier after that. You became a lot more pleasant to travel with on your end, and you were honestly the happiest you had ever been on this journey. In turn, you also became a lot bolder, willing to take more risks if it meant moving forward, much to Bruno’s distress. When the two of you reached a shore of what appeared to be an endless ocean, you just smiled and looked around until you found a broken down sailboat.

“Oh, we could totally fix this and get through the sea! Come on, help me take a closer look!” You called, running over to the small vessel and finding only a few small holes and the two of you could easily patch up.

“I don’t know… We don’t know what kind beast’s lair we’re walking into out there. Plus, I’ve never even heard of an ocean in the Labyrinth.” Bruno pointed out, but you just smiled.

“Which could mean that we’re looking at the exit right here. I mean, come on, I really have the instinct that we’re getting close to something big! Besides, I’ve read Moby Dick. I know how to deal with sea monsters.” You grinned. Bruno just sighed.

“I don’t know…” He looked out at the ocean, but you just leaned against him, entwining your fingers with his.

“Come on. You’re the best sailor I know, I know if we’re together, we can do anything.” You told him. He just rolled his eyes, but you knew that Bruno was smiling.

“I’m the only sailor you know.”

“Making you the best! Come on, how about this? You work on the boat, and I’ll collect food and try to make a harpoon in case we do actually meet a sea monster. If we think the preparations are good by tomorrow morning, we go, if not, we’ll find another path. Deal?” You told him. Finally, Bruno sighed and leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek.

“You always know how to wear me down into saying yes, don’t you?” He teased. You just grinned.

“It’s a gift! Now come on, I want to find a good stick for my harpoon.” You told him, pulling away to go hunting for that sweet stick. Bruno just laughed and got to work.

The two of you worked into the night, but as the time grew near, it seemed like the two of you were finally ready. He had repaired the canvas sails using thread from old clothing he had found, fashioned driftwood into oars, the whole works. You grinned as you saw it, your bag loaded up with food and your stick nice and sharp. You’re doing great.

“Alright, look at us. A couple of sailors, about to take the ocean!” You grinned, pulling your shoes off and throwing them onto the boat so as to not get them wet.

“Why am I already regretting this?” Bruno sighed, though he was smiling at how excited you were. He helped you push off the boat, the two of you climbing in without much trouble.

And it really was smooth sailing. Bruno commented on how favorable the wind was, showing you exactly how to steer and position the sails, before fixing it into position and letting you watch as you saw fish swim under your small boat, watching the land behind you disappear into nothingness. The two of you were really in the middle of nowhere. In a sense, it was wonderful, to see nothing but the ocean around the two of you, watching the ocean beneath you allow your passage, shifting from blues to purples. Another mystery of the Labyrinth you would never be able to explain. It was a long journey, but Bruno was eventually able to set it to move forward, only getting up to adjust if the wind where to change, which wasn’t often. The two of you simply sat and watched the endless sea. You could really get lost out here. In a way, you did.

It wasn’t until the two of you spotted a small island that you perked up, grinning.

“Bruno! Bruno, look! Isn’t it amazing? It’s not an exit, but we might be able to find something there!” You told him, getting up and moving to adjust the sails to try and land, but Bruno grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“Let me handle it, landing without damaging the boat is a heavy task. Mark the island on the map, it might be important.” He told you, and you immediately relaxed, turning to look through your bags for the map. You trusted Bruno entirely. After all, he would never hurt you. He would never lie to you. If only you weren’t so trusting that you didn’t look up to see the tentacles surrounding the boat.

“Tesoro, I’m so sorry I had to do things like this.” You turned to ask what on earth he meant, before Bruno lunged at you, wrestling you down onto the wooden floor of the boat. You screamed out, squirming and trying to struggle. Bruno has never been this strong, his nails never this sharp, his eyes never this wild. When you looked into them, a fear you never even had was realized, Bruno’s eyes reflecting the ever changing colors of the ocean in a way that only one creature’s could. A Beast.

“No, no! Let me go, this isn’t real! What did you do to Bruno?!” You cried out, trying to squirm out of the terrible grasp of this beast in Bruno’s place.

“Please, calm down Tesoro. It’s me, it’s always been me. I’m so sorry I had to lie to you like this, I never meant to hurt you. Please, you’re breaking my heart.” He crooned, and at one point, that might’ve been enough to calm you. But you knew those words were meant to twist you up, meant to calm you, even though you had the instinct that they were true.

“Breaking your heart?! You lied to me, made me believe you were a human being, all to eat me! You’re not just a beast, you’re a monster! I hate you, I really do hate you!” You screamed, only for Bruno to growl, his claws digging into your wrists.

“You don’t hate me. I know you love me. I know it.” Bruno’s voice was scaring you, his teeth growing sharper by the minute. His grip loosened when you finally whimpered out in pain, blood being drawn at your wrists. He took a deep breath, attempting to explain himself. “I didn’t lie, I was human when you first met me, honest to god. I changed in the Rose garden. That encounter with the beast was enough to turn me into one, it seemed. At first, I didn’t know what I would do. I was in despair over losing my humanity, over losing my chance to leave this place. But…” Bruno reached a hand to run along your cheek, wiping a tear you didn’t know you shed.

“You kept my soul human. You’re my salvation, (Y/N). When the Blood Beast almost had you, I realized that I could never let go. When we reached the ocean, I realized that this was meant to be my territory. That once I entered into it, I would never be able to escape it. But… You’ll be here with me. You’ll be here, with me, forever!” Bruno’s smile was terrifying, leaving you just to gulp. He was a beast, alright, and one of the most terrifying you had ever met.

“B-Bruno… I love you, I really do, but you have to let me go… I have to escape here. I can’t spend the rest of my life in this Labyrinth.” You told him, but Bruno only smiled and shook his head.

“Oh, Tesoro. Now that I have you, I’ll never let you go. I love you. If you’re here, I’ll be able to survive an eternity in this ocean. It’ll be a paradise of our own making.” Bruno declared. The tentacles that came from under the ship started to tear it apart, leaving wood chips in its wake as Bruno pulled you under the water, pressing his lips against yours. There was nothing you could do to resist as the two of you began to sink into the icy depths. The last thing you saw before you fell into another slumber was Bruno’s eyes, ever changing and always adoring.

They were as black as the depths he pulled you into.

[nikkialena]

More Than Just A Number .2

 after two heated rounds it came down to a tie and you surprisingly were enjoying yourself. But it was late or at least you thought so kinda hard to tell when your in space calling it a night you retired to your quarters, giving your face a quick wash the rag got snagged on one of your various horns with a frustrated sigh you glared at the little things and grabbed your saber. However before you could give yourself a little makeover your comlink went off, “hey [n/n] got time to talk” Anakin asked sounding a littler perkier than usual tossing your saber on the bed you plopped down on its edge. “Yea shoot” you mumbled plopping on the bed face first you spent the rest of the night listening to Anakin talk about his relationship with Padme which you didn’t really mind listening to, when you woke you had managed to roll off the bed and hit the floor with the blanket wrapped around you like a burrito. Getting up you quickly showered avoiding looking in the mirror at all cost, you hated your reflection it was ugly and freaky like nightmare fuel, with your awkward white patch around your right eye your different colored  eyes and your devil horns you were picture of disgust rumor even has it your parents gave you to the jedi for that reason alone. You weren’t sure if it was true but all the other padawans seemed to really believe it at the time, leaving your room you hit poor Rex with the door knocking him to the floor because you were so distracted by your thoughts, “Captain Rex I’m so sorry” you admitted bashfully as you helped him to his feet and brushed him off, “that’s quite alright accidents happen “ he said with a soft laugh you tried to use the force to see if he was lying but he seemed bubbly you apologized again and you felt him shift from neutral to slightly uncomfortable. “Really it’s no problem ma’- I mean [Y/N]”  You smiled softly letting out a short breath “okay so uh where are you going?” He stiffened at your question which was odd and you swore you could feel a little unease wafting off of him, “to meet general Anakin in the cockpit” he replied swiftly but judging off the aura coming off of him you could tell he’d just lied and that peeked your interest. Since Rex was one of the most honest and honorable people you’d heard of  “really now” you mused staring deep into his pretty golden eyes,  he held your gaze for about two minutes before briskly excusing himself and walking away you thought about following him but decided against and instead went to the cockpit. Anakin greeted you with a half wave while conversing with Ahsoka “whatcha whispering about?” Anakin turned to you with a somewhat soft smile “our first mission together in forever we gotta rescue a spy from the planet Tiliti he has some valuable information on a new project count Duke is working on”,  “sounds fun” you said sarcastically crossing your arms. He had this weird look on your face like he was about to ask you something personal and you tensed up, “whatever it is you want me to do I’m not doing it” you stated firmly he let out a sigh only confirming your suspicion that he was up to something, “well the base is located in a nightclub” he muttered softly.  You nodded slowly urging him to go on and he played with his fingers “that means we have to dress properly….and you have to ditch the jedi robe”, you sucked a breath through your teeth as your heart jumped into your throat “no I won’t do It you’ll have to go without me” you turned to leave but he held you with the force ticking you off. “I know you did not just use the force on me” you spat venomously glaring daggers into his soul a couple of clones paused whatever they were doing to watch the little hissyfit you were having, “I know you don’t like taking off your hood but I wouldn’t ask you if lives weren’t in danger “ he stared you in the eye a look of seriousness crossing his face. You sighed in defeat slumping your shoulders and turning for your room to get ready, “why doesn’t she like taking off her hood” Rex and Ahsoka asked simultaneously watching you disappear around the hall,  Anakin blushed softly chuckling nervously “funny story you’ll laugh at this”. “Really master” Ahsoka gave him a pointed look while shaking her head as they got off the shuttle Anakin threw his hands in the air, “I was young dumb and in love okay” he whisper shouted,  waiting outside the club for you to arrive. You’d decided not to arrive together to avoid suspicion so he arrived first with Ahsoka and you’d arrived second with Rex, stepping off another shuttle you swallowed thickly, it had only been a couple of minutes since you’d arrived on planet and you were already drawing attention to yourself. People gasped and stared at you all the while you trembled with unease, you’d decided to wear a simple slim fit powder blue backless dress with a tight waist flowing bottom and short sleeves, although it didn’t make you feel any better about yourself. You’d tried to wrap your horns in a scarf or something but Anakin protested it and your horns kept shredding holes into the scarf so you reluctantly left, Anakin kept telling you how beautiful you looked but you knew he was only saying that to soothe his guilty conscious when Ahsoka said it you could feel it’s sincerity. But when Rex said it;  butterflies danced in your stomach and electricity shot through your spine like lightning, your entire body flushed and you’d choked on the drink you’d been sipping, he’d said it with such fervor and passion that you almost believed him for a second.  You’d tried to see if he was lying through the force but he wasn’t; you felt nothing but compassion and honesty shining from him, which made you blush more “ready general “ he whispered in your ear snapping you out of your daze,  Rex stood next to you shoulder brushing yours as his fingers slowly interlocked with yours. You were going as a couple while Anakin and Ahsoka were going as siblings which was pretty accurate, they always seemed like a big brother and a little sister to you. Or in some cases the other way around, you squeezed his hand and basked in the warmth slowly seeping into your cold fingers “ready you” mumbled more like a question, as the four of you  entered the building you were greeted by blinding neons lights deafening music and the strange scent of alcohol sex and street drugs.  Anakin and Ahsoka kinda spread out looking for anything suspicious while you tried to press yourself into the farthest corner you could fine so you wouldn’t be bothered, you also kept an eye out for anything odd while watching people roll against each other in a sea of bodies, Rex had also split leaving you alone in the corner.  After about five minutes of standing in a corner you started getting strange looks so you went to the bar and ordered a drink a simple whisky on rocks, sipping your drink slowly you saw Ahsoka ascend the stairs with Anakin and a guy in black while giving you a knowing nod you sauntered over to the dancefloor simply to keep others from following suit.   You were starting to get bored and sensed Rex’s boredom to so you walked over to him and offered him a hand “wanna dance captain or do you have two left feet” you teased, he looked at a bit shocked that you were asking him contemplating it for a second he  gingerly  took your hand in his own “I’ll have you know I have two right feet” he commented. You felt a little spark shoot through your fingertips as they brushed his but blamed it on the whisky you’d downed, however his fingers left whitehot trails as they grazed your lower back finding their way to your hips and pulling you closer. Your breathing hitched in your throat as he pulled you so close you could smell his woody pine scent,  you trembled softly at how intoxicating it was allowed your eyes to flutter close for a moment, he was a true gentleman never letting his hand explore further than your waist while the other held  your hand so tightly that you could feel his pulse. You could since that he was beyond nervous as his eyes focused on yours his body movements were a bit awkward and stiff so you decided to take the lead, “easy there tiger dancings easy just follow my lead” you whispered as your hands looped around his neck, you rolled your hips to the beat and his were quick to follow as the beat accelerated . His hands stayed stiffly at your waist you rolled your eyes “you can move your hands captain just don’t get any funny ideas” you teased making him blush, if he wasn’t nervous before he most definitely was now, he just responded with a little nod he grabbed your hand and spun you before forcefully pulling you back so you collided with his broad chest. You swung your hips from side to side as he seemed to get the hang of it occasionally spinning you ever now and then,  you quickly worked up a sweat as his hands explored every inch of your body and your ass began grinding somewhere near his crotch. You were so lost in the heat of the moment and appeal of the dance that neither of you seemed to notice the crowd slowly forming to watch you dance, or at least that was until Anakin and Ahsoka quickly flew down the stairs carrying a wounded looking togruta Anakin locked eyes with you and his brows raised all the way up as he mouthed ‘get it’  you rolled your eyes as Rex dipped you trying to give Anakin and Ahsoka time to flee with the wounded spy.  You locked eyes with him as he stared down at you an unreadable emotion flickered behind his eyes as his lips crashed aggressively into yours, you eagerly kissed back sliding your lips over his in a relentless battle for dominance, he gingerly grazed your lower lip with his teeth earning a soft moan from you as you parted for air.  The small crowd around you had burst into whoops and catcalls and cheers as your face turned as red as  tomato,you both took a different exit outside where Anakin and Ahsoka waited patiently,  Ahsoka had a amazed look on her face while Anakin's lips stretched into a devilish smirk as his head snapped between you and Rex “great idea master that was quick thinking we might’ve been a little screwed without you and your mad dancing skills”. You nodded briskly and began speed walking towards the shuttle Anakin caught up with you and threw his arm around your neck “yea and that kiss was gold almost looked real” he teased, you shoved his arm off and flicked his forehead “well it wasn’t it was just for the mission now can we please get out of here before someone spots us” you whisper spat. Anakin just looked at you with a knowing smirk as he walked passed he turned to you for a quick moment “just know….that I ship it” making your cheeks burn in embarrassment, “there’s nothing to ship moron” he entered the ship with a laugh mumbling yeah right while Rex had lingered behind the whole time. You gave a quick glance his way to try and see what he was feeling but he was just plain neutral, you weren’t sure if you were relieved or disappointed not having dissected the kiss yourself, shrugging your shoulders you walked inside brushing it off for another time.

[emily-strange]

Sparks Fly

Okay so I posted Chapter 2 the other day but was ultimately really unhappy with where the story was heading....so I revamped! 

Thank you again to @billybutchersbabe​ for being my sounding board and talking through my jumbled ideas with me :) Such a massive help.

Hope you enjoy the chapter and feedback is welcomed x

Chapter 2

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of Violence, *very* mild mention of child abuse (very very small)

…………………………………………………..

Butcher leans against the dirty wall of the safehouse ‘livingroom’ and looks at the young woman sprawled out on the threadbare sofa. He sighs tiredly and pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting the headache that’s constantly threatening his brain. MM and Frenchie are arguing over something ridiculous in the other room and Hughie made a quick exit after trying to scold him for his interrogation techniques.

For the first time in a fucking long time, Butcher feels the pinch of guilt in the back of his mind. The three of them were following a lead when they’d come across the cart fire and Butcher being Butcher, he just had to watch something burn. That’s when he noticed her. Well, he didn’t know she was a she at the time. 

Not that it matters of course, a supe’s a supe.

She approached the fire like she was looking to get burned. He watched her raise her hands and caught a glimpse of a small smile. The flames around her flickered like an electrical current and seemed to gravitate towards her. He saw red. His mind instantly went to Lamplighter and Mallory’s grand-kids. So, he acted.

He’d been careless and rash.

Butcher lets out a long, deep breath that he didn’t know he was holding and calls to MM. When he finally breaks away from his argument, MM enters the room just at Butcher is sorting through a first aid kit.

“You ‘nd Frenchie need ta follow up on that lead. See if ya can get Hughie back.” He says without looking up. MM bites back the need to argue and looks over to the woman on the sofa. He eye’s Butcher warily.

“What you gonna do?” he asks. Butcher stops sorting through the kit and follows MM’s eye-line to the woman.

“Just ask what you wanna ask MM” Butcher responds, straitening himself to full height, causing the other man to do the same. The tension since the alley was thick. Even Frenchie sensed it when they returned ‘home’ with Butcher carrying an unconscious woman over his shoulder.

“Fine. What you gonna do, to her?” MM rewords while pointing to the woman. Butcher picks up some antiseptic wipes and gauze.

“Me?” he asks in his usual jovial tone, “I’m gonna patch the bird up ‘nd ask her some questions. Maybe if she’s lucky, I’ll get her somethin’ ta drink.”

MM scoffs, “So the kickin’s are done?”

Butcher places one of his hands, still holding the gauze, over his heart, “Scouts honour.”

MM shakes his head but gathers his things. Him and Frenchie head out to follow up on the previous lead, with the latter muttering in French as they exit the building.

Butcher takes a couple of seconds to gather himself before sitting on the small coffee table opposite the sofa, setting up a bottle of water next to him ready. The woman’s bag lies on the floor next to them, having been checked over by Butcher when they got back, however he’d put the matchbook in the pocket of his short-sleeved shirt the moment he’d knocked her out in the alley.

He moves her hair gently off of her face and sighs, exhausted himself. He gives her a little shake. And then another one. And then a bigger one while saying (almost shouting) “Hey!”. The woman stirs and for a second Butcher sees her relaxed before everything crashes back down to earth. She hurries to sit upright, her stomach clearly no longer hurting her and Butcher grabs her arm before she can bolt off the sofa.

“Alrigh’ alrigh’ calm down now luv.” He chastises and retracts his hands quickly when the woman snatches her arm back, holding it to herself like he’d burned her. Her eyes are wide and her face is bruised from earlier, with blood smeared across her forehead and jaw. Old, almost closed cuts are scattered around her face with yellow bruises framing her eyes on both sides.

“Why am I here?” Emmy asks, pushing part the dry scratch of her throat.

“Well. That’s the question ain’t it. Why are you here? Some say God. If you believe that kinda thing. Me? I’d say freak’a nature.” Butcher answers, confusing Emmy for a moment before she realises what he’s getting at.

“No,” she replies quickly “why am I in your….house?”

Butcher looks around, finding it funny that she’d think this rundown hole could be someone’s house.

“We brought you back here afta your little display in the alley. Figured it was the least I could do afta….well ya know.” Butcher says while gesturing to her generally, “And I’ve neva met a supe what ask ta die. So tickle me curious.”

Emmy thinks back to their altercation and recalls her desperate plea to end it all.

“Let’s just say I’ve had a bad couple of days.” She whispers. This seems to appease Butcher for the moment as he hands over the bottle of water. She takes it quickly, chugging down almost half of its contents before stopping to heave in air like she hasn’t breathed for weeks. She waits for Butcher to say something but when he doesn’t she rolls her eyes.

“Look, I didn’t do anything to the cart okay?” Emmy mumbles. The silence of the man opposite her putting her even more on edge, “You bring me here to kill me or something?”

“Nah. If I wanted ya dead, you’d be dead.” Butcher answers with a shit-eating grin.

Emmy nods slowly, “That’s, um, very comforting.”

“Look, I’m not in the habit of picking up strays. But my mate was giving me fucking grief about leavin’ ya.” Not totally untrue, Butcher thinks. Hughie had argued like a little bitch but Butcher was also not lying when he said he was curious about the bedraggled supe.

Emmy thought for a moment back to the alley and how concerned his friends had seemed. “….Hughie?” She says absentmindedly. “Or MN….MM?”

Butcher sighs and hangs his head in mock upset, “See. You shouldn’ta told me ya know our names.”

“You were hardly being careful!” Emmy says with rushed defense.

“Well I wasn’t plannin’ on you makin’ it out of that alley.” Butcher snaps back, raising his voice in annoyance. Emmy knows she should be terrified, definitely more scared than she is. This guy jumped on her the second he caught a whiff of her power. But really, he just looks exhausted now. Totally fed up. And like he said, if he wanted her dead, she’d probably already be dead.

Butcher narrows his eyes at Emmy and almost smirks when she does the same to him. They stare at each other for a few seconds, until the insane situation she’s found herself in causes Emmy to do the last thing Butcher expects her to do.

She laughs.

“I’m….I’m sorry” she gasps between laughs, “I, uh...I haven’t slept in like…2 days”. She breaks off to laugh silently into the hand she smacked to her mouth. Butcher furrows his brow and this seems to set her off even more.

“And…it kinda felt like…” she tries to continue without laughing but fails, “it felt like….we were having the world’s most…awkward…staring contest.” By the time Emmy finishes, she’s wiping tears out of her tired eyes. She manages to calm herself down enough that Butcher thinks it’s safe to speak.

But the moment he opens his mouth, Emmy erupts into laughter again.

“Alrigh’!” Butcher shouts and Emmy’s laughter retreats.

“Sorry…I’m…scared I am…you’re very scary.” She says sincerely despite the humour in her tone. She coughs the last of the laughter away and takes another sip of water before handing it back to Butcher who puts it on the table.

“Look. I wanna know who’s afta ya.” He says sternly and Emmy nods, watching her own hands as she fiddles with a thread on the sofa. What has she got left to lose?

“Umm okay, well….I dunno to be honest. Maybe no one? Maybe police? I just assume someone is.” She replies, only making eye contact once she’s finished.

“And why, prey tell, would the cops be afta ya?” Butcher whispers menacingly, the way he does. He sees the hesitation on Emmy’s face and runs his large hand down his own, groaning. He has a feeling that his usual intimidation technique isn’t going to cut it here.

He looks again at the old cuts and bruises on her face and sighs. She probably wants reassurance. Reassurance that he won’t turf her over to the cops or worse, whoever she worries is after her.

The problem is, Butcher doesn’t know how to be reassuring anymore. And why should he be? He doesn’t know this girl. She’s a supe. Whether she acts like one or not isn’t his business. His business is straightening them out. Ending them if need be.

But something tugs at him. Something akin to guilt, again. Maybe empathy? Who the fuck knows.

“Look. I’m sorry ‘bout the alley alrigh’? Wasn’t my finest moment.” Butcher says sighing, hoping it’ll soften her to him and he can get his information. That’s why he’s doing it. That’s the only reason he apologised…

“Why did you…?” Emmy asks quietly but can’t quite find the right word. Attack her? Accuse her? Threaten her? All of the above?

Butcher shakes his head, “Answer mine ‘nd I’ll answer yours.”

“Okay. Um. So I didn’t know I was a….’supe’….until around 2 days ago.” Emmy begins but stops when Butcher scoffs.

“Whatta you, 25/26?” he asks disbelievingly. He’s never heard of someone being so old before a power materialised.

“29. And it’s weird. Believe me, I know.” Emmy says sternly, annoyed that he’s interrupted her already, “But it’s true.”

Butcher smirks and gestures for her to continue.

“I’ve always been a fast healer.”

“Plus side of being a supe eh?” Butcher says mockingly and he takes note of the way Emmy’s nostrils flare.

“You keep saying that. Supe, supe,  supe! Until the other day, I didn’t know I could do what I did.” Emmy bites back angrily.

“And what did you do?” Butcher asks, ignoring her anger and raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Why did you attack me!?” Emmy asks firmly, no longer allowing her fear to cloud her brain. The whole situation is starting to really piss her off. So much had happened in the last couple of days and she honestly felt like she was losing her mind. “You don’t even know my fucking name. But you kicked me in the fucking face.”

Butcher can’t help but smile. She’s feisty, he thinks. A far cry from the grovelling girl in the alley. If he’d been faced with this side of her, he’s not sure she’d be sitting here right now.

“Alrigh’. I’ll play.” Butcher says calmly, “Me ‘nd my…mates…we ain’t a fan of supes doin’ whatever tha fuck they please. And that’s what we fought you were doin’. Now, what. Did. You. Do.”

Emmy sighs and rubs exasperatingly at her face with the sleeves of her hoodie. When she pulls her hands back, she’s surprised at how much bloods come from her face, “Wow. You really did a number on me.”

“That I did.” Butcher responds quickly, grinning. Was he proud of that? Who the fuck is this guy? Why couldn’t that sweet looking one be here instead.

Emmy looks at the blood on her sleeves again and weighs her options. She could stay quiet and probably die. Or try to escape and probably die. Or maybe cooperate and get a chance to live. Not exactly a Sophie’s Choice. She lowers her hands and lets out a large sigh.

If he hates supes so much, maybe he’ll understand?

“When I was ten I was put with a foster family. Had a shit-tone of foster siblings. Like, they never stopped coming and going.” Emmy rubs again at her tired eyes and clears her throat. The man opposite her stares with an unreadable expression. “We were slave labour really….the family….they’re not good people. And you don’t just leave. They make sure of that.”

Emmy stops to gather her thoughts. Fuck she’s tired. And hungry. At that thought, her stomach growls but she jumps when Butcher clears his throat and says, “Haven’t got all day luv.”

Emmy scoffs and nods. Basically, hurry the fuck up.

“What you need to understand is….we were untouchable. We never went to school, but no one questioned it. People showed up dead but the police just, acted like nothing happened. It was like some…hickville mafia.”

“Mafia?” Butcher repeats and Emmy just laughs.

“We weren’t like the Godfather or anything. But yeah. We ran drugs, weapons…..and as I recently found out. People.” Emmy gestures for the bottle of water and Butcher begrudgingly hands it over. She downs the rest of the bottle and feels a blinding pain behind one of her eyes. Great. “Look, I burnt the fucking place down okay.”

Emmy pushes on the increasing pain that throbs behind her eye. This isn’t the time to be getting a migraine. Butcher takes a moment to think on Emmy’s story. It’s not the craziest one he’s ever heard but that’s not hard with the type of shit he sees.

“So your….fire thing. Didn’t happen till the otha day?” he asks plainly.

“Nope. Never had any idea about it.” Emmy answers quickly, squinting against the lights of the room. Butcher’s a pretty good judge of character and he’s basically trained in telling if someone’s lying. She’s not lying.

“Where were you before then? Before the foster family?” Butcher asks while picking up the antiseptic wipes and motioning for Emmy to sit forward. She hesitates but, in the end, finds herself leaning in for him to wipe at the dried blood around her face. He’s not exactly gentle but she does note how he spends time to check each open wound. Making sure nothing nasty has found its way into the cuts.

“That’s the thing. I have no idea.” She pauses briefly to hiss in pain has Butcher presses on a fresh bruise, “Before...the fire…I was going through all the paperwork that I wasn’t supposed to. After I found out about the…people. And I found years’ worth of account stuff I’d never seen. The head of the family is a stickler for paperwork.” Emmy laughs humourlessly. Remembering how many clips round the head she got as a child when something was misfiled, “All these payments to an account I didn’t know about. And it came from one company. Vought.”

At the mention of Vought, Butcher stops his inspection of Emmy’s wounds and sits back to look at her. Emmy finds herself instantly missing the feel of his hands on her face but shakes the thought from her mind as quick as it came.

“Pass me my bag.” She says and after a second Butcher does. She doesn’t go into the bag, instead turns it around to pick at some stiches on it’s back. After the stiches come away, she slips a piece of paper out of a small opening of the fabric. She opens the paper, which is singed, to show a large payment from Vought to who Butcher imagines to be the foster family.

“There were years’ worth of these. Why was Vought sending random payments to a small crime family!?” Emmy asks, knowing Butcher wouldn’t have the answer to her question, “I saw the name and…just…I have this feeling. That Vought had something to do with…me. The bits I can’t remember.”

Butcher’s mind was racing. That was a lot of information to get in a couple of seconds. Should he ask her more about her foster family? No they don’t matter....or do they? He has no bloody clue. From the burnt edges of the paper he can only assume the rest of the papers went up in flames. 

Emmy’s just watching him for a reaction but he has no idea what to say yet. He can’t exactly fill her in on his business, but he’s also not planning on letting her walk out the door so quickly when she may know more than she thinks. So he does what he usually does. Acts.

Butcher quickly snatches the piece of paper from Emmy and pockets it.

“Hey!” Emmy says lunging forward, only to be pushed easily back onto the sofa by Butcher. He gets up and goes into the other room and comes back a second later with his coat.

“There’s some food around ‘ere somewhere. Water in the tap.” He says gesturing around and not directly looking at Emmy.

“Where the fuck are you going!?” Emmy shouts, jumping up. She’s quite a bit shorter than Butcher but he has to admire her temper.

“Look, if I were you, I’d grab summit ta eat. Pop some painkillers ‘nd takea nap. But that’s just me.” he says bending down condescendingly to Emmy’s height.

Before Emmy can say anything else, Butcher sweeps past her to the door. He gets his phone out and puts it to his ear.

“Don’t worry Sparky, I’ll be back latea.” Butcher winks before calling whoever is on the other line a “cunt” and slamming the door behind him. Emmy also hears the obvious clunk of a lock sliding into place.

Emmy looks around the dark, dingy room as the pain in her head starts to really make itself known. She stands in the same spot Butcher left her in for at least 5 minutes, going over the last day or so in her mind.

“I need a fucking drink.”

[somecunttookmyurl]

Lol . Your report is ridiculously baseless. But you may continue to waste your money and time. Who is your lawyer, Rudy Giuliani ? And you and your friends may continue to dig your hole of fanaticism and hateful mentality. BTW Lottie asks that I am "dealt with". I wonder how exactly, perhaps with pharaonic methods ? You are all so sad...

Well

According to all known laws of aviation,   there is no way a bee should be able to fly.   Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.   The bee, of course, flies anyway   because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.   Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black.   Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little.   Barry! Breakfast is ready!   Ooming!   Hang on a second.   Hello?   - Barry? - Adam?   - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up.   Looking sharp.   Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those.   Sorry. I'm excited.   Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son.   A perfect report card, all B's.   Very proud.   Ma! I got a thing going here.   - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me!   - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye!   Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house!   - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry.   - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation.   Never thought I'd make it.   Three days grade school, three days high school.   Those were awkward.   Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive.   You did come back different.   - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.   - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah.   - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going.   Everybody knows, sting someone, you die.   Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead.   I guess he could have just gotten out of the way.   I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day.   That's why we don't need vacations.   Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances.   - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are!   - Bee-men. - Amen!   Hallelujah!   Students, faculty, distinguished bees,   please welcome Dean Buzzwell.   Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of...   ...9:15.   That concludes our ceremonies.   And begins your career at Honex Industries!   Will we pick ourjob today?   I heard it's just orientation.   Heads up! Here we go.   Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times.   - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary.   Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco   and a part of the Hexagon Group.   This is it!   Wow.   Wow.   We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life   to get to the point where you can work for your whole life.   Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive.   Our top-secret formula   is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured   into this soothing sweet syrup   with its distinctive golden glow you know as...   Honey!   - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin!   - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins.   - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive   to improve every aspect of bee existence.   These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology.   - What do you think he makes? - Not enough.   Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman.   - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey   that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions.   Oan anyone work on the Krelman?   Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know   that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot.   But choose carefully   because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life.   The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that.   What's the difference?   You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off   in 27 million years.   So you'll just work us to death?   We'll sure try.   Wow! That blew my mind!   "What's the difference?" How can you say that?   One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make.   I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life.   But, Adam, how could they never have told us that?   Why would you question anything? We're bees.   We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth.   You ever think maybe things work a little too well here?   Like what? Give me one example.   I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about.   Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach.   Wait a second. Oheck it out.   - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow.   I've never seen them this close.   They know what it's like outside the hive.   Yeah, but some don't come back.   - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks!   You guys did great!   You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!   - I wonder where they were. - I don't know.   Their day's not planned.   Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what.   You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that.   Right.   Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime.   It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it.   Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it.   Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too?   Distant. Distant.   Look at these two.   - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them.   It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock.   Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom!   He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me!   - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out.   What were you doing during this?   Trying to alert the authorities.   I can autograph that.   A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades?   Yeah. Gusty.   We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow.   - Six miles, huh? - Barry!   A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it.   - Maybe I am. - You are not!   We're going 0900 at J-Gate.   What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough?   I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means.   Hey, Honex!   Dad, you surprised me.   You decide what you're interested in?   - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one.   Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day?   Son, let me tell you about stirring.   You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around.   You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing.   You know, Dad, the more I think about it,   maybe the honey field just isn't right for me.   You were thinking of what, making balloon animals?   That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger.   Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey!   - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny.   You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer!   - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me!   Wait till you see the sticks I have.   I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!   Let's open some honey and celebrate!   Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae.   Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"!   I'm so proud.   - We're starting work today! - Today's the day.   Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone.   Yeah, right.   Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal...   - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left!   One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side.   - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar!   Wow!   Oouple of newbies?   Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!   Make your choice.   - You want to go first? - No, you go.   Oh, my. What's available?   Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think.   - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on.   I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.   Wax monkey's always open.   The Krelman opened up again.   What happened?   A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one.   Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.   Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life!   Oh, this is so hard!   Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer,   humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor,   mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry?   Barry!   All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine...   What happened to you? Where are you?   - I'm going out. - Out? Out where?   - Out there. - Oh, no!   I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life.   You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?   Another call coming in.   If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd   that gets their roses today.   Hey, guys.   - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?   Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.   It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.   Really? Feeling lucky, are you?   Sign here, here. Just initial that.   - Thank you. - OK.   You got a rain advisory today,   and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain.   So be careful. As always, watch your brooms,   hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats.   Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us.   Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada!   - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies,   bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans!   All right, launch positions!   Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!   Black and yellow!   Hello!   You ready for this, hot shot?   Yeah. Yeah, bring it on.   Wind, check.   - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check.   - Wings, check. - Stinger, check.   Scared out of my shorts, check.   OK, ladies,   let's move it out!   Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers!   All of you, drain those flowers!   Wow! I'm out!   I can't believe I'm out!   So blue.   I feel so fast and free!   Box kite!   Wow!   Flowers!   This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual.   Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.   Roses!   30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around.   Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick.   That is one nectar collector!   - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir.   I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there,   a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic.   That's amazing. Why do we do that?   That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us.   Oool.   I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those?   Oopy that visual.   Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move.   Say again? You're reporting a moving flower?   Affirmative.   That was on the line!   This is the coolest. What is it?   I don't know, but I'm loving this color.   It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it.   Yeah, fuzzy.   Ohemical-y.   Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby.   My sweet lord of bees!   Oandy-brain, get off there!   Problem!   - Guys! - This could be bad.   Affirmative.   Very close.   Gonna hurt.   Mama's little boy.   You are way out of position, rookie!   Ooming in at you like a missile!   Help me!   I don't think these are flowers.   - Should we tell him? - I think he knows.   What is this?!   Match point!   You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it!   Yowser!   Gross.   There's a bee in the car!   - Do something! - I'm driving!   - Hi, bee. - He's back here!   He's going to sting me!   Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze!   He blinked!   Spray him, Granny!   What are you doing?!   Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable.   I gotta get home.   Oan't fly in rain.   Oan't fly in rain.   Oan't fly in rain.   Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down!   Ken, could you close the window please?   Ken, could you close the window please?   Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure.   You see? Folds out.   Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this.   What was that?   Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This...   Drapes!   That is diabolical.   It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.   What's number one? Star Wars?   Nah, I don't go for that...   ...kind of stuff.   No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds.   When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say.   There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out.   I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it.   I predicted global warming.   I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me.   Wait! Stop! Bee!   Stand back. These are winter boots.   Wait!   Don't kill him!   You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me!   Why does his life have less value than yours?   Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement?   I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling.   My brochure!   There you go, little guy.   I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing.   Put that on your resume brochure.   My whole face could puff up.   Make it one of your special skills.   Knocking someone out is also a special skill.   Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks.   - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever.   - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye.   - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye.   I gotta say something.   She saved my life. I gotta say something.   All right, here it goes.   Nah.   What would I say?   I could really get in trouble.   It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human.   I can't believe I'm doing this.   I've got to.   Oh, I can't do it. Oome on!   No. Yes. No.   Do it. I can't.   How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good.   Here she comes! Speak, you fool!   Hi!   I'm sorry.   - You're talking. - Yes, I know.   You're talking!   I'm so sorry.   No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming.   But I don't recall going to bed.   Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting.   This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee!   I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this,   but they were all trying to kill me.   And if it wasn't for you...   I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised.   That was a little weird.   - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah.   I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me!   I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now.   - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What?   The talking thing.   Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up.   - That's very funny. - Yeah.   Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with.   Anyway...   Oan I...   ...get you something? - Like what?   I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee?   I don't want to put you out.   It's no trouble. It takes two minutes.   - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose.   - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup.   Hey, you want rum cake?   - I shouldn't. - Have some.   - No, I can't. - Oome on!   I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms.   - Where? - These stripes don't help.   You look great!   I don't know if you know anything about fashion.   Are you all right?   No.   He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison.   He finally gets there.   He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on.   And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan.   Why would I marry a watermelon?"   Is that a bee joke?   That's the kind of stuff we do.   Yeah, different.   So, what are you gonna do, Barry?   About work? I don't know.   I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want.   I know how you feel.   - You do? - Sure.   My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.   - Really? - My only interest is flowers.   Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan.   Anyway, if you look...   There's my hive right there. See it?   You're in Sheep Meadow!   Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond!   No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once.   - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not?   - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that.   - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine.   Just having two cups of coffee!   Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee.   Yeah, it's no trouble.   Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life.   Are you...?   Oan I take a piece of this with me?   Sure! Here, have a crumb.   - Thanks! - Yeah.   All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around.   Or not.   OK, Barry.   And thank you so much again... for before.   Oh, that? That was nothing.   Well, not nothing, but... Anyway...   This can't possibly work.   He's all set to go. We may as well try it.   OK, Dave, pull the chute.   - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing!   It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life.   Humans! I can't believe you were with humans!   Giant, scary humans! What were they like?   Huge and crazy. They talk crazy.   They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy.   - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't.   - How'd you get back? - Poodle.   You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see.   You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal.   - Well... - Well?   Well, I met someone.   You did? Was she Bee-ish?   - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp.   - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders.   I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all.   I can't get by that face.   So who is she?   She's... human.   No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law.   - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy.   She's so nice. And she's a florist!   Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!   We're not dating.   You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes   with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite!   She saved my life! And she understands me.   This is over!   Eat this.   This is not over! What was that?   - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey!   And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat!   - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No.   It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up...   Sit down!   ...really hot! - Listen to me!   We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them!   Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning?   There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me!   You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee!   - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   There he is. He's in the pool.   You know what your problem is, Barry?   I gotta start thinking bee?   How much longer will this go on?   It's been three days! Why aren't you working?   I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about.   What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee!   Would it kill you to make a little honey?   Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you.   Martin, would you talk to him?   Barry, I'm talking to you!   You coming?   Got everything?   All set!   Go ahead. I'll catch up.   Don't be too long.   Watch this!   Vanessa!   - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him.   He doesn't respond to yelling!   - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen!   I'm not listening to this.   Sorry, I've gotta go.   - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend.   A girl? Is this why you can't decide?   Bye.   I just hope she's Bee-ish.   They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena?   To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream!   Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering.   A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events?   No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere?   It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster.   Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn.   TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane!   You don't have that?   We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease.   Oh, my.   Dumb bees!   You must want to sting all those jerks.   We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us.   So you have to watch your temper.   Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk,   write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion:   Anger, jealousy, lust.   Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?   Yeah.   - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug.   He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep!   What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?   Yeah, it was. How did you know?   It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.   You've really got that down to a science.   - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet.   What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this?   How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,   Ray Liotta Private Select?   - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him.   - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it.   You don't have enough food of your own?   - Well, yes. - How do you get it?   - Bees make it. - I know who makes it!   And it's hard to make it!   There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing!   - It's organic. - It's our-ganic!   It's just honey, Barry.   Just what?!   Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing!   You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have!   And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this.   I'm getting to the bottom of all of this!   Hey, Hector.   - You almost done? - Almost.   He is here. I sense it.   Well, I guess I'll go home now   and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around.   You're busted, box boy!   I knew I heard something. So you can talk!   I can talk. And now you'll start talking!   Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier?   I don't understand. I thought we were friends.   The last thing we want to do is upset bees!   You're too late! It's ours now!   You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword!   You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio!   Where is the honey coming from?   Tell me where!   Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!   Orazy person!   What horrible thing has happened here?   These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now   they're on the road to nowhere!   Just keep still.   What? You're not dead?   Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed?   To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here.   I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off!   I'm going to Tacoma.   - And you? - He really is dead.   All right.   Uh-oh!   - What is that?! - Oh, no!   - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade?   Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!   Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?!   How much do you people need to see?!   Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window!   From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell.   But don't kill no more bugs!   - Bee! - Moose blood guy!!   - You hear something? - Like what?   Like tiny screaming.   Turn off the radio.   Whassup, bee boy?   Hey, Blood.   Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see.   Wow!   I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it.   I mean, that honey's ours.   - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in.   It's a close community.   Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own.   - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble.   Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack!   At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls.   Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly.   Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.   You got to be kidding me!   Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee!   - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood!   I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw?   We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit.   What is this place?   A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead.   They are pinheads!   Pinhead.   - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.   The Thomas 3000!   Smoker?   Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar.   A couple breaths of this knocks them right out.   They make the honey, and we make the money.   "They make the honey, and we make the money"?   Oh, my!   What's going on? Are you OK?   Yeah. It doesn't last too long.   Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls?   Our queen was moved here. We had no choice.   This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes!   That's a drag queen!   What is this?   Oh, no!   There's hundreds of them!   Bee honey.   Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale!   This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something.   Oh, Barry, stop.   Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor.   Do these look like rumors?   That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos.   How did you get mixed up in this?   He's been talking to humans.   - What? - Talking to humans?!   He has a human girlfriend. And they make out!   Make out? Barry!   We do not.   - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on?   The bees!   I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night.   Barry, this is what you want to do with your life?   I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees!   Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked   your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop.   I remember that.   What right do they have to our honey?   We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!   Even if it's true, what can one bee do?   Sting them where it really hurts.   In the face! The eye!   - That would hurt. - No.   Up the nose? That's a killer.   There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters.   Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source.   No more bee beards!   With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk.   Weather with Storm Stinger.   Sports with Buzz Larvi.   And Jeanette Ohung.   - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung.   A tri-county bee, Barry Benson,   intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey,   packaging it and profiting from it illegally!   Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King,   we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book,   Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon.   Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson.   Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"?   Bees have never been afraid to change the world.   What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?   Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans.   We were thinking of stickball or candy stores.   How old are you?   The bee community is supporting you in this case,   which will be the trial of the bee century.   You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too.   It's a common name. Next week...   He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots...   Next week...   Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em.   Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live.   Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish.   In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness!   It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81.   Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that?   Quiet, please. Actual work going on here.   - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is!   I'm helping him sue the human race.   - Hello. - Hello, bee.   This is Ken.   Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe.   Why does he talk again?   Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working.   But it's our yogurt night!   Bye-bye.   Why is yogurt night so difficult?!   You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours!   Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help.   - Frosting... - How many sugars?   Just one. I try not to use the competition.   So why are you helping me?   Bees have good qualities.   And it takes my mind off the shop.   Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now.   Those are great, if you're three.   And artificial flowers.   - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too.   Bent stingers, pointless pollination.   Bees must hate those fake things!   Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done.   Maybe this could make up for it a little bit.   - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess.   You sure you want to go through with it?   Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able   to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty!   It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan,   where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history,   we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak.   What have we gotten into here, Barry?   It's pretty big, isn't it?   I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day.   You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers?   Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade.   - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill.   Well, if it isn't the bee team.   You boys work on this?   All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding.   All right. Oase number 4475,   Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry   is now in session.   Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively?   A privilege.   Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world?   I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed.   Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please.   Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,   my grandmother was a simple woman.   Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right   to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us.   If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines,   just think of what would it mean.   I would have to negotiate with the silkworm   for the elastic in my britches!   Talking bee!   How do we know this isn't some sort of   holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry?   They could be using laser beams!   Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know,   he could be on steroids!   Mr. Benson?   Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here.   I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me.   It's important to all bees. We invented it!   We make it. And we protect it with our lives.   Unfortunately, there are some people in this room   who think they can take it from us   'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over,   you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have   but everything we are!   I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice!   Oall your first witness.   So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have.   I suppose so.   I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron!   Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms.   Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term.   I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you?   - No. - I couldn't hear you.   - No. - No.   Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that,   it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey.   They're very lovable creatures.   Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear.   You mean like this?   Bears kill bees!   How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?!   Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows!   OK, that's enough. Take him away.   So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me.   - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police.   But you've never been a police officer, have you?   No, I haven't.   No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example   of bee culture casually stolen by a human   for nothing more than a prance-about stage name.   Oh, please.   Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting?   Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting.   Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner!   That's not his real name?! You idiots!   Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on   your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005.   Thank you. Thank you.   I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome   with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow.   I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime?   Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you?   Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't   have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir?   Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now!   This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella!   Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?!   - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it!   Order! Order, I say!   - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down!   I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that.   I think the jury's on our side.   Are we doing everything right, legally?   I'm a florist.   Right. Well, here's to a great team.   To a great team!   Well, hello.   - Ken! - Hello.   I didn't think you were coming.   No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery.   I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free.   Oh, that was lucky.   There's a little left. I could heat it up.   Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever.   So I hear you're quite a tennis player.   I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby.   That's where I usually sit. Right... there.   Ken, Barry was looking at your resume,   and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill.   You think I don't see what you're doing?   I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common.   Do we?   Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out.   That's just what I was thinking about doing.   Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right.   I'm going to drain the old stinger.   Yeah, you do that.   Look at that.   You know, I've just about had it   with your little mind games.   - What's that? - Italian Vogue.   Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages.   A lot of ads.   Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine?   Funny, I just can't seem to recall that!   I think something stinks in here!   I love the smell of flowers.   How do you like the smell of flames?!   Not as much.   Water bug! Not taking sides!   Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic!   I've got issues!   Well, well, well, a royal flush!   - You're bluffing. - Am I?   Surf's up, dude!   Poo water!   That bowl is gnarly.   Except for those dirty yellow rings!   Kenneth! What are you doing?!   You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it!   We need to talk!   He's just a little bee!   And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time!   Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life?   No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them!   Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night...   My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster!   Goodbye, Ken.   And for your information,   I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man!   I'm sorry about all that.   I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it!   I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me.   I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well.   Are you OK for the trial?   I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas.   We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand.   Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers...   Yeah.   Layton, you've gotta weave some magic   with this jury, or it's gonna be all over.   Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around   is to remind them of what they don't like about bees.   - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic?   Only to losing, son. Only to losing.   Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know.   What exactly is your relationship   to that woman?   We're friends.   - Good friends? - Yes.   How good? Do you live together?   Wait a minute...   Are you her little...   ...bedbug?   I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand,   doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children?   - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents!   - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are!   Hold me back!   You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson?   He's denouncing bees!   Don't y'all date your cousins?   - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy!   Adam, don't! It's what he wants!   Oh, I'm hit!!   Oh, lordy, I am hit!   Order! Order!   The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins!   I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction!   You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages!   Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way!   - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs.   What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison   from my heaving buttocks?   I will have order in this court. Order!   Order, please!   The case of the honeybees versus the human race   took a pointed turn against the bees   yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery.   - Hey, buddy. - Hey.   - Is there much pain? - Yeah.   I...   I blew the whole case, didn't I?   It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died.   I'd be better off dead. Look at me.   They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.   Look, there's a little celery still on it.   What was it like to sting someone?   I can't explain it. It was all...   All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy!   All right.   You think it was all a trap?   Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this.   What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world.   What will the humans do to us if they win?   I don't know.   I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad.   Adam, they check in, but they don't check out!   Oh, my.   Oould you get a nurse to close that window?   - Why? - The smoke.   Bees don't smoke.   Right. Bees don't smoke.   Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking.   That's it! That's our case!   It is? It's not over?   Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere.   Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can.   And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub.   Mr. Flayman.   Yes? Yes, Your Honor!   Where is the rest of your team?   Well, Your Honor, it's interesting.   Bees are trained to fly haphazardly,   and as a result, we don't make very good time.   I actually heard a funny story about...   Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs   taken up enough of this court's valuable time?   How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on?   They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges   against my clients, who run legitimate businesses.   I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case!   Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going   to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion.   But you can't! We have a terrific case.   Where is your proof? Where is the evidence?   Show me the smoking gun!   Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun?   Here is your smoking gun.   What is that?   It's a bee smoker!   What, this? This harmless little contraption?   This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee.   Look at what has happened   to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?"   Is this what nature intended for us?   To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines   and man-made wooden slat work camps?   Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man?   - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card.   Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees!   Free the bees! Free the bees!   Free the bees!   Free the bees! Free the bees!   The court finds in favor of the bees!   Vanessa, we won!   I knew you could do it! High-five!   Sorry.   I'm OK! You know what this means?   All the honey will finally belong to the bees.   Now we won't have to work so hard all the time.   This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson.   You'll regret this.   Barry, how much honey is out there?   All right. One at a time.   Barry, who are you wearing?   My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants.   - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean?   We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years.   Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement?   First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps.   Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with,   every last drop.   We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more   than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine.   We're all aware of what they do in the woods.   Wait for my signal.   Take him out.   He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine.   And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames...   But it's just a prance-about stage name!   ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products   and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments.   Oan't breathe.   Bring it in, boys!   Hold it right there! Good.   Tap it.   Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming!   - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down.   Shut down honey production!   Stop making honey!   Turn your key, sir!   What do we do now?   Oannonball!   We're shutting honey production!   Mission abort.   Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base.   Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there.   Oh, yeah?   What's going on? Where is everybody?   - Are they out celebrating? - They're home.   They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in.   I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket.   At least we got our honey back.   Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't?   It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it.   This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well.   And now...   Now I can't.   I don't understand why they're not happy.   I thought their lives would be better!   They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people.   You don't have any idea what's going on, do you?   - What did you want to show me? - This.   What happened here?   That is not the half of it.   Oh, no. Oh, my.   They're all wilting.   Doesn't look very good, does it?   No.   And whose fault do you think that is?   You know, I'm gonna guess bees.   Bees?   Specifically, me.   I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things.   It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.   That's our whole SAT test right there.   Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom.   And then, of course...   The human species?   So if there's no more pollination,   it could all just go south here, couldn't it?   I know this is also partly my fault.   How about a suicide pact?   How do we do it?   - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice.   Right, right.   Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going.   I had to open my mouth and talk.   Vanessa?   Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going?   To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena.   They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying.   It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it.   Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this.   I know. Me neither.   Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports.   Wait a minute. Roses. Roses?   Roses!   Vanessa!   Roses?!   Barry?   - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are.   Flowers, bees, pollen!   I know. That's why this is the last parade.   Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down?   Oould you slow down?   Barry!   OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault.   Yes, it kind of is.   I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you   with the flower shop. I've made it worse.   Actually, it's completely closed down.   I thought maybe you were remodeling.   But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined.   I don't want to hear it!   All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen.   I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park.   All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got.   - Bees. - Park.   - Pollen! - Flowers.   - Repollination! - Across the nation!   Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia.   They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy.   Security will be tight.   I have an idea.   Vanessa Bloome, FTD.   Official floral business. It's real.   Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch.   Thank you. It was a gift.   Once inside, we just pick the right float.   How about The Princess and the Pea?   I could be the princess, and you could be the pea!   Yes, I got it.   - Where should I sit? - What are you?   - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea?   It goes under the mattresses.   - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal.   You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco!   Let's see what this baby'll do.   Hey, what are you doing?!   Then all we do is blend in with traffic...   ...without arousing suspicion.   Once at the airport, there's no stopping us.   Stop! Security.   - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes.   Has it been in your possession the entire time?   Would you remove your shoes?   - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me.   I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight.   Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job.   Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job!   I think this is gonna work.   It's got to work.   Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott.   We have a bit of bad weather in New York.   It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay.   Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it.   I gotta get up there and talk to them.   Be careful.   Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine?   I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer.   Oaptain, I'm in a real situation.   - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing.   Bee!   Don't freak out! My entire species...   What are you doing?   - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney?   Don't move.   Oh, Barry.   Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain.   Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit?   And please hurry!   What happened here?   There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded.   One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious!   - Is that another bee joke? - No!   No one's flying the plane!   This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status?   This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York.   Where's the pilot?   He's unconscious, and so is the copilot.   Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience?   As a matter of fact, there is.   - Who's that? - Barry Benson.   From the honey trial?! Oh, great.   Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee.   It's got giant wings, huge engines.   I can't fly a plane.   - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes.   How hard could it be?   Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning.   This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport,   where a suspenseful scene is developing.   Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory...   That's Barry!   ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers   and an incapacitated flight crew.   Flowers?!   We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls   with absolutely no flight experience.   Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane.   I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres.   They've done enough damage.   But isn't he your only hope?   Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all.   Their wings are too small...   Haven't we heard this a million times?   "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense."   - Get this on the air! - Got it.   - Stand by. - We're going live.   The way we work may be a mystery to you.   Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs.   But let me tell you about a small job.   If you do it well, it makes a big difference.   More than we realized. To us, to everyone.   That's why I want to get bees back to working together.   That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O.   We get behind a fellow.   - Black and yellow! - Hello!   Left, right, down, hover.   - Hover? - Forget hover.   This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep!   Barry, what happened?!   Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time.   - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not!   So it turns out I cannot fly a plane.   All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out!   Move out!   Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane!   Don't have to yell.   I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble.   It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice!   It's not a tone. I'm panicking!   I can't do this!   Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it!   You snap out of it.   You snap out of it.   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn.   How is the plane flying?   I don't know.   Hello?   Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there?   The Pollen Jocks!   They do get behind a fellow.   - Black and yellow. - Hello.   All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop.   Where? I can't see anything. Oan you?   No, nothing. It's all cloudy.   Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry.   - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something.   - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me.   Like a 27-million-year-old instinct.   Bring the nose down.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that!   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK.   Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys?   Affirmative!   Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it.   Land on that flower!   Ready? Full reverse!   Spin it around!   - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one?   - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower!   That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower   made of millions of bees!   Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up.   Rotate around it.   - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly.   Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern?   Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse!   Just drop it. Be a part of it.   Aim for the center!   Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman!   Oome on, already.   Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly!   - Yes. No high-five! - Right.   Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower?   What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius!   - Thank you. - But we're not done yet.   Listen, everyone!   This runway is covered with the last pollen   from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth.   That means this is our last chance.   We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this.   If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say?   Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains?   We're bees!   Keychain!   Then follow me! Except Keychain.   Hold on, Barry. Here.   You've earned this.   Yeah!   I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves.   Oh, yeah.   That's our Barry.   Mom! The bees are back!   If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time.   I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight!   Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next?   Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these.   Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel!   Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat!   I had no idea.   Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment?   Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you.   Sorry I'm late.   He's a lawyer too?   I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase.   Have a great afternoon!   Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere.   No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me.   You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next?   All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly.   Thank you, Barry!   That bee is living my life!   Let it go, Kenny.   - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go.   - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is.   Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office.   You have got to start thinking bee, my friend.   - Thinking bee! - Me?   Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it.   I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here?   I'm not making a major life decision during a production number!   All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys.   I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

[adhd-demetri]

First things first, love the new url, it's super you. Second are you working on the story for your oc? I actually want to read more on it -Jane

Yep and after thinking about it, if you have a twilight oc, message me and I'll add them into the story :) but this is it so far. Consider this a free sample

~Breaking news~

Things are getting pretty wild in ohio near cowan lake campgrounds. Two coyotes and wolf have been spotted in the area roaming around together wrecking havoc and panic. Biologists are baffled by the sudden appearance of a wolf in ohio with what is supposed to be their enemy.

No one knows where the trio came from but police and wildlife officials are urging people to haze them away and for parents of pets and children alike to keep a sharp eye on them.

Witnesses say they have been seen near dumpsters and trash cans tearing open bags of uneaten food-

-Click-

Demi turned off his phone as he took a bite out of a sub he and his mate had dug out of the dumpster. He snickered at the thought of him, his little brother and his mate 'wrecking havoc' over simply digging in dumpsters for goodies people through out. Like phone chargers, towels, clothing, sleeping bags and even small one person tents with easy fixes.

People are so wasteful. Throwing away perfectly good treasures. Oh well, they were now theirs.

Casper walked up behind him and threw down a tent that he just patched up. It was a cheap green and beige 4 person tent that had a hole in the roof of it. It wasn't nothing special truthfully.

"What do you think? Nice patch work right?" He said looking very proud of his work. Demi turned around and ran his fingers over the the patch, inspecting the delicate stitching and the vinyl that protected them from wear-and-tear.

"Looks good Cas, can't imagine why someone would get rid of this for a easy fix!" He shrugged, oh well. It now belongs to his younger brother.

As he got up from the forest floor, he dusted off the leaves and dirt that clung to the back of his pants. Grabbing the tent, he headed to Caspers car that was parked by an abandoned entrance way that led to overgrown trails leading to their little hideout.

"Hey alex. Check it out, Cas fixed you a tent. Now you can go camping with us instead of sleeping in the car." He said giving his 10 year old little brother the now fixed up tent.

Alex was sitting in the back playing mario kart tour on his phone. He glanced down quickly and laid his phone down. He picked up the tent bag and looked at its contents. His baby blue eyes started to widen with excitement.

"Th-this is for me? My own tent? Wow this is so cool!" The little blond was practically jumping up and down in his spot with pure joy and happiness radiating off of him. He was so happy to have his own tent finally.

"Yup, tonight Cas and I can teach you how to put it up and when we leave, take it down. Sound good?"

"Yes! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!" He suddenly slammed into Demi with a tight hug. Demi patted his head and pulled the excited child off of himself.

Alex went back to playing his game. Demi went back and sat on the ground to join Casper in the small clearing while he was redoing the zipper work on one of the sleeping bags. Casper nearly had this one finished up and planned on giving it to Alex since it had Kion and other lion guard characters on it. Casper concentrated as he worked on stitching the zipper to the sleeping bag.

"Soooo Alex loved his tent. Thank you for fixing it up for him."

"No problem. Seemed better than sitting in the car ya know? Oh hey look I finally got it stitched. You know these zippers are so hard to fix now a days." He said zipping up the bag and admiring his work.

He looked up and noticed the sun was starting to paint the sky in a beautiful array of oranges and pinks mixed with some purples and blues. The air felt slightly cooler than it did before.

Demi rolled his eyes and simply smiled.

He knew it was time to get going and head back to the campgrounds.

Casper followed right behind him and started up his car. They headed back to Cowan Lake campgrounds tenting area.

"Hey alex! Buckle up bud!" He yelled getting back up and getting into the car to leave.

The ride there was quite relaxing as the trio was simply jamming out to some music on their way to the campgrounds. They didn't have a care in the world it seemed.

They finally made it back to their spot. Alex quickly hopped out along with his tent and claimed a spot right next to where Demi and Casper's tent was. He started to pull everything out of the make shift bag that he had stuffed it in previously.

Demi quickly got out and ran to him. He didnt want Alex to lose anything.

"Hey bud slow down, We still got to help you put it up. Cas you want to get the fire going? We can roast some shmellows and some hot dogs. I'm starved!" Demi quickly started unraveling the tent and pulling out the poles, laying them nice and neat.

While they did that, Casper started up the fire. It roared to life after a few moments of poking and prodding it with fiery paper. He grabbed all the goodies, the roasting sticks and a mini table from his car.

The sun sunk down below the trees as the beauty of the moon rose to the sky. She bathed the area in a soft ghostly white glow.

Meanwhile Alex and Demi finally got his tent all nice and set up. It looked a little worn down but it was definitely still usuable.

"Hey who wants shmellows? We got some dogs that need roasting too!" Cas called out to Demi and Alex. He laid out the marshmallows and chocolate along side the hotdogs, gram crackers and bread. Alex and Demi joined him by the cozy fire grabbing a few bits of food and wolfing them down like ravenous animals.

Demi shushed him real quick. He didn't want to disturb others and cause any unnecessary commotion. The last time that happened didn't end well .... for the other person that is.

Around them other campfires crackled and popped while kids and couples alike told stories and roasted foods. Some saying goodnight while others stayed out.

"So when the fire goes out, do you two want to go on a run? I'm pretty sure that stupid Cullen family is out hunting and I do NOT want him near our area." Demi asked Casper and Alex.

Casper thought about it for a moment and mouthed I dont care while shoving a hotdog in his mouth. Alex simply shook his head yes as he ate a burnt gooey marshmallow.

"Yeah it's a full moon tonight! And I haven't ran with you guys in forever!" Alex shouted a tad bit to loud grabbing the attention of a few nearby campers.

"Let's wait till 10. Most of the other campers will be asleep and in their tents by then. It would be the perfect time to slip out." Demi said leaning into his mate's embrace.

No one screams at his little brother for being excited.

"Yeah, it has been awhile hasn't it? It's about time we run and get a good idea of how big our territory is too if this is our permanent home." Casper said.

Demi nodded in agreement as he got up. He went to his and Casper's tent and stripped down to just his incredibly warm out pants. He didn't care if these pants got destroyed while shifting. They've been through so much and it was time to finally to get rid of them.

Casper got up from his spot and joined Demi in the tent. He wrapped his arms around Demi's midsection, pulling him into a warm hug.

"So when you want to head out love?" He whispered.

They both sat down on their makeshift bed. Minutes passed as they simply stayed still together.

A sense of euphoria enveloped him. What a lovely feeling it was.

He got up quickly, peeking out of the tent entrance way.

Neither wanted this moment to end.

His little brother crossed his mind. He left him out there by the fire by himself!

Hide and seek

Thankfully the fire was dying since no one was paying it any attention.

His brother was lying down on the grass. His headphones over his head and his hand tracing the stars as he sang a familiar song quietly. His head bobbing in sync to the beat.

Reason and rhyme

Grand and glorious

Living the dream

yours and mine

~ Euphoria!

As he sand the last part, his arm fell to his side. A smile was spreading across his face as he lost himself in his own little world of euphoria.

Demi felt his body shift quickly. Thankfully his pants were worn enough to not make hardly any noise. Brown, orange and white fur littered from his skin quickly.

The feeling of happiness and joy could be felt radiating from him once again.

Demi sighed to himself, grateful his brother was ok.

"Everything alright love?"

"Yeah, just got worried about Alex but he's fine. He's in his own little world right now."

"I can tell. I can feel it from here."

Demi went back and sat down. He searched for his phone to check the time.

9:57 PM

All of the other campers were asleep by now. The only ones awake at this point was the trio.

Casper's body morphed as well. Silvery gray fur with white swirls that resembled a starry galaxy painted his skin. His body shifted and the shorts he had were ripped quickly.

And just like that, a coyote that could blend in with the autumn themed environment stood before Casper.

The air swirled around Demi. With it, The smell of wet leaves and smoke with sugary delights. Demi inhaled the savory scents before making his way to the child that was still relaxed on the grass.

And just like that, a wolf stood above Demi in the 10 person tent.

Giving his mate a quick nuzzle, Demi slowly crept outside the tent. He didn't want to wake anyone or draw attention to himself. He still had to get Alex into their tent.

Demi nudges Alex with his snoot, urging him to get up. Alex realised it was time and ran to his brother's tent as there would be no room to shift in his own.

Soon after a small blondish white coyote pup came out. His ears and tail were probably the most unique feature both the wolf and coyote have ever seen.

Casper ran out of tent to give Alex some privacy.

'So Cas, did you hear what they said about us on the news? They think we are trouble makers!

Just were the ears attach to the head, Alex's fur was a shiny metallic gold color. His tail was the same way.

He jumped up into the air and started to run a tad bit. The excitment seemed to rub off on Demi. He too started to jump around with his little brother. Together their energy seemed to wile them up even more.

With a burst of energy, the trio took off onto the road. Demi and Alex yipped along the way down the road. Casper's tongue lulled out of his mouth while he ran.

Alex on the other paw didn't want to go digging like his older brother. He was more interested in the playground that was close by and the toys that had been abandoned there as well.

Ha! Can you believe that? Let's give them real trouble!'

Cas nodded in response. He started to slow down as they approached the dumpsters. The overwhelming smell of garbage that has been marinating all day under a scorching hot sun wafted around the trio.

Demi charged ahead of them. He loved digging in the trash, all kinds of goodies people would throw out for no reason was calling his name!

He chased after his brother though.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Lick Your Wounds (part two)

[Breakaway]

Part 1

TW: I don’t think there are any, but let me know if there are some

———————

Behind The Siren’s Eyes

Being cooped up in a cabin on a grand, amazing cruise ship wasn’t that bad if you didn’t think about it!

Oh, who was Joan kidding. She was absolutely miserable. And not just because her hand is swollen and cut open.

After getting sent back to her cabin once her hand was wrapped up and the gash was patched together with medical tape, Maggie practically forced Joan to sleep. Not that she had a problem with that. It wasn’t until the next day that boredom set in.

Joan first awoke to aching, throbbing pain in her hand. She whimpered loudly, inwardly thanking god that she had a single cabin. Then, she collected her bearings and got up-

-only to realize there was no need to get dressed. She had been called out of the show until they arrived at the next stop- Cozumel, apparently- and got proper medical attention. Well, since she was up, she might as well freshen up.

And that is when she realized how awkward it was to brush her teeth with her non-dominant hand. It was like the way she simply moved a toothbrush felt wrong in her right hand. But that wasn’t all: she quickly learned that many things were a struggle. Like typing on her phone using only one thumb because she had to use all her other fingers to hold it up. And playing on her Switch. And reading! She couldn’t even flip the page without having to put down the entire book and turn the paper like that!

To put it simply, she wasn’t having the best of times. And it was only the first of seven days.

Joan was doing the only thing she could manage to do without struggle, watch TV, when there was a knock at her door. She said come in and Maggie entered, holding a small paper bag that filled the room with a sweet smell.

“Maggie!” Joan cheered, throwing only one arm up. “You came to visit me!”

“Of course.” Maggie said. She walked over to the bed and set the bag in Joan’s lap. “I brought you doughnuts.”

Joan’s eyes sparkled in the sunlight seeping in through the windows.

“Thank you!” She chirped. “You’re the best!”

“I know.” Maggie said. Her voice was as dry and deadpanned as always, but there was a crinkle around her eyes and Joan knew she was doing her version of smiling.

“As you should.” Joan hummed. She went to open the bag, but winced when she accidentally moved her left hand. Maggie notices.

“It still hurts? Ah- stupid question. Don’t answer that. Of course it does.” She tentatively touched Joan’s wrist, causing her to whimper, so she quickly pulled away. “I barely touched you. It’s that bad?”

Joan nodded with another tiny whimper. She carefully sets her hand back onto a pillow and waited for the pain to die down before she spoke up again.

“I-it really hurts, Maggie.” She whispered. “I took the painkillers the nurses gave me, but...they take awhile to kick in.”

Maggie frowned. She opens the bag of doughnuts and popped one of the doughnut holes into Joan’s mouth, causing her to squeak softly.

“I’ll go see if they have anything stronger, alright?” She said. “But first eat. I’ll help you.”

Joan blushed dark red. Maggie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t make it weird.”

“I-I’m not!” Joan barked. “You just- mph!!” Another doughnut hole is stuffed in her mouth. “Mmmph...” She grumbled.

Maggie blew out an amused breath before looking at the TV, which was playing a beach house hunting show. She wrinkles her nose at it.

“Why do you always watch this crap?” She asked.

“The houses are pretty.” Joan said, still chewing. Maggie jabs her in her stomach, causing her to squirm away with a muffled squeal.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Maggie hissed. She looked back at the TV, swiping a doughnut hole for herself.

The two eat their sugary breakfast in silence for awhile, watching a basic white heterosexual couple tell the poor real estate agent about what they wanted in their house (“You can’t have a house in the middle of town AND have easy access to the beach. You have to pick one, you selfish bitch.” Maggie had commented at one point). When the first commercial break happens, Maggie picks up on Joan wiggling beside her. The girl was blushing, too. She looked at her strangely.

“What are you doing?”

“I- umm...” Joan’s ears ignite in enraged shades of red. “I have to use the bathroom.”

Maggie raised her eyebrows with a quick puff exhaled from her nose.

“Do you?” She said, then got up. “Alright. Come on.”

“I don’t need your help!” Joan squealed. “I just- you asked what I was doing, so-”

“Go piss.”

“Don’t say it like that!!”

Joan rolled out of bed with as much grace as a drunk roly-poly would have and hobbled her way to the bathroom, where she then met her greatest challenge yet: pulling her shorts down with only one hand.

“Okay, Joan. You can do this.” She whispered to herself.

“Are you talking to yourself while peeing?” Maggie called from outside.

“Shut up!!” Joan cried. Then, softly, she grumbled, “I’m not even peeing yet...”

She turned her attention back to her mission and grabbed the waistline of her shorts. She pulled that side down below her hips and then reached over to the other side, doing the same, but this time feeling her muscles strain slightly from the stretch of doing so. Which was kind of pathetic, but she dismissed it and continued.

“Do you need help?” Maggie called again.

“No! No, I got it!” Joan called back as she wiggled around like a spastic worm to get her pants to fall down to her ankles. That was not something she wanted Maggie to see, especially when she lost her footing and careened herself directly into the wall.

On her bad arm.

“Ahh-!!” Joan squeaked.

“Joan?!” Maggie’s voice sounds uncharacteristically frantic. She’s in the bathroom in seconds, nearly flinging the door off its hinges. Her panic is halted, however, when she sees Joan hopping and squirming around the small space with her shorts around her ankles while keening in pain.

Maggie closes the door and goes back to the bed without another word.

When Joan eventually gets finished doing her business (which consists of her struggling to pull her shorts up and then ditching them entirely), they don’t speak of the event and just stare at the house hunting show playing on TV in silence.

“Anne is coming to visit you later.” Maggie finally said, breaking the awkwardness.

“Really?” Joan perked up.

“Yup,” Maggie nodded. “She would be here right now if it weren’t for morning rehearsals.”

“You skipped rehearsals for me?”

“Well, of course.”

Joan smiled at that, then yawned. She rubbed her eyes with her good hand.

“You’re already tired?” Maggie asked.

“I, umm-” Joan is blushing again. “I didn’t really sleep.” She continues in a mumble, “Hurt too much...”

“You pitiful little thing.” Maggie crooned, plucking some hair out of Joan’s pink face. “Why don’t you rest up? Let me get you settled-”

Maggie went to crawl out of the bed to fix the sheets and maybe convince Joan to put on pants, when a hand- one that wasn’t grizzled by gore and bandages- grabs onto her shirt and she’s yanked back down. Not even she could bite back a soft yelp at the strength this hurt girl had.

“You're soft.” Joan murmured faintly. Maggie had fallen back onto the bed at an odd angle and Joan was curled up in a way that let her nuzzle her face against her stomach.

“And you're delusional.” Maggie said. She went to move into a better position, when she noticed that Joan’s chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Asleep, already?

Joan looked so much more peaceful than she did earlier, and watching her, with her nose buried in her stomach, told Maggie that she wouldn’t be able to move for awhile. Or, well, until she had to get to the show.

“Rest up, pumpkin.” Maggie whispered, brushing Joan’s fringe back and kissing her temple gingerly.

“Hm?” Joan opens her eyes and looked up at Maggie.

“Ah-” Maggie blinked. “You're awake?”

“Pumpkin?” Joan hummed absently. “You've never…called me that before…”

“You were supposed to be asleep, dumbass.” If she weren't afraid it'd hurt her, Maggie would have punched Joan right in the shoulder. So, instead, she flicked her forehead, earning her a sharp whine as an answer.

“You've called me that before, though…”

Her semi-asleep retorts make Maggie exhale a breath in amusement.

“Well, since you're awake, can you put some pants on for me?”

“But…I'm not wearing pants…”

Joan peeks under the blanket and looks herself over weakly, confirming that she wasn’t, in fact, wearing pants.

“That’s right. You already took them off. For some reason.”

“I...took off my pants?”

“Yes.”

“...Oh. ‘M sorry...”

“It’s okay, Joan. Just put them- what are you laughing at?”

Joan is giggling endearingly into Maggie’s stomach. It's such a sweet sound, after everything that's happened.

“You.” Joan squeaked out. “You’re silly, Gigi...”

“Oh yes.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “I’m the silly one here.”

“M-Maggie, stop it, it hurts,” Joan stutters out between giggles.

“I’m literally not doing anything.”

Joan howls at that and dug her face further into Maggie’s midsection. If anyone else had been doing such a thing she would have been thoroughly pissed off at such an invasion of her personal face, but Joan was an exception.

“Okay, okay-” Maggie finally has to pull herself away and get out of the bed, earning her quite an adorable pout. She dug through one of Joan’s drawers and pulled out some soft grey sleeping pants. “Come on. Get your knickers on.”

Joan made a face.

“It's pronounced ‘sweat pants’, Maggie.”

“Actually it's pronounced, ‘Put them on so we can go to sleep’, Joan.” Maggie retorts.

“Fine.” Joan grumbled. “Close your eyes.”

Maggie does as she’s asked and turns away. She prepares the bed as she hears Joan struggle behind her.

“Okay.”

“All set?”

“Can we go to bed now?”

“Do you want to change your shirt or take some medicine?”

Joan moans in an exasperatedly cute way. “I'm tired.”

“I know.”

“Can we go to bed now?”

The repeated dialogue worries Maggie a bit, so she concedes to the demand.

“Yeah,” She breathed. She got Joan into the bed and then laid down beside her. She brought the younger girl’s face up to burrow into her neck and placed a quick peck on her cheek.

“Will you…stay with me…?”

“Of course, darling. Of course I will.” Maggie feels Joan smile weakly.

It doesn’t take long for Joan to drift off, snuggled up contently against her dear friend. Maggie watches over her, being mindful of her hand.

When it was time for her to leave for the show, Joan whimpered in her sleep at the loss of warmth. Maggie ended up giving her the stuffed monkey thing she kept under her pillow, and the girl cuddled it instantly. She shook her head in amusement.

“Stupid tambourine.”

————

“Oh, Joanie!!”

Maggie winced at the volume Anne had when she entered the pianist’s cabin.

“Will you shut up?” She hissed. “She might be sleeping!”

“Wha...?” Joan lifted her head from where it had been buried in her blankets. She blinked blearily. “Maggie...?”

“And me!” Anne piped up.

“Annie?”

The queen and her former Lady go to the bedside, sitting on the edge of it. Joan looks up at them with a very relieved, or maybe just dazed, expression.

“You came back...” She drawls out. “And Annie’s with you!”

“I told you.” Maggie said.

Anne ruffles Joan’s unruly hair, which she mentally notes is rather sweaty.

“How are you feeling, kiddo?”

“Mmm,” Joan shrugged, but winced at the movement of her left arm. It makes Anne and Maggie exchange looks that such a simple action can cause her pain. “Bored. Lonely. Really tired...”

“Then maybe you should go back to sleep,” Maggie suggested. “We can leave if you’d-”

“N-no!” Joan cried suddenly. “P-please don’t go! Don’t leave me...”

Looks are exchange by the queen and her former Lady again. Anne gently smoothes out Joan’s hair.

“Alright, sweetheart. We won’t go anywhere.”

Joan smiled weakly before laying her head back down. Her bad hand is resting on a pillow, lax and perfectly still. The bandages are slightly redder than they had been that morning.

“Hey, Joan,” Maggie said.

“Mmmm?” Joan opened one eye.

“Maybe we should redress your hand? The nurses did give us extra bandages-”

“No!” Joan cowered away. She rips her hand off of the pillow when Maggie grabbed for it. “No, no! Please no!”

“Joan, it needs to be-”

“No!!” Joan howled. “It’s-it’s gonna hurt too bad! P-please don’t, Maggie! Please!”

She screams loudly when Maggie reaches for her hand, and that’s what gets the guitarist to back down.

For a moment, Maggie is mortified at how scared she made the poor girl, but she quickly erased that terror. She couldn’t let her persona fall.

“She won’t, Joan.” Anne said, trying to smooth things over. “She won’t touch your hand, alright? Just calm down.”

Joan hiccuped. She’s crying, now. Not that anyone can blame her.

Maggie climbs fully into the bed and Joan is in her arms in an instant, whimpering and weeping. She glances worriedly over at Anne for a moment, who looks equally as concerned.

“I-I’m sorry, Gigi,” Joan sobbed weakly.

“Shh, shh.” Maggie murmured. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Maggie holds the girl gently. And she lies to her, over and over.

Because Joan was not okay. And Maggie had the horrible, sickening feeling she’s only going to get worse.

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

Y’all this is part one! I repeat!! There is a part two!! Literally no one has read yet!! ❤️❤️

She was a friend of Trager’s, from his past. A young girl he’d saved almost twenty years ago now a grown woman thriving. She worked as a waitress at a bar in Sacramento, and Tig often made visits to see her. As he visited last, he had mentioned that he was concerned for her health and wellbeing. He’d said things were getting kind of crazy around Charming. She took that as a warning to get out of Dodge, so she did. She found a place in Dallas to hunker down, found a good job, and made a little life for herself. She was alone, of course, but she had a few friends.

She got ready for work, putting her hair up into two cute little braided buns, pinning back any loose hair before putting on some winged eyeliner and mascara, some fake lashes, and bright red lips. Smoothing her black button down shirt and fixing her collar, she gets on her bike and heads to work. A few Hispanic bikers showed up as soon as the doors opened. They drank and cheered, celebrating something. She smiled as she wiped down the bar, hands pressing onto the wooden top stopping her circles. She looked up and met the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes.

“Hi! What can I get for ya?” She asks, biting her bottom lip ever-so-slightly as she finished speaking. The blonde’s grin only got wider as he ordered a drink, the leather kutte that rested atop his bare shoulders at first had her heart racing. He was gorgeous. Tall, blonde, wide shoulders, beautiful blue eyes, my god. He was a sight for sore eyes. Her eyes scanned the leather, reading his patches. Sgt. at Arms, Tacoma. Those two meant something to her, as she thought about it while she poured him a drink, and when it hit her she slid the drink to him without another look before disappearing. Her heart was pounding so heavily she thought it might explode. She was leaned against the cool brick wall when Jade found her with a concerned look.

“You okay?” She asks, grabbing the woman’s shoulder. Tig was a sergeant at arms for SAMCRO, and if this guy was the same for Tacoma, she had a bad feeling this guy wasn’t here on pleasure.

“Yeah, sorry. Just felt sick for a second, I’m fine.” She grins, heading back inside to find the blonde still planted at the bar. A few more men made it to the bar, and she could feel the blonde’s eyes on her every move. “You need a refill, Darlin’?” She asks, and his eyes meet hers for a moment as he nods, winking at her. Her knees went weak for a second as his fingers brushed hers when he took the glass.

“Thanks, doll.” She almost visibly choked at the nickname. She’d only been called that by one other person. Her eyes jolted to his and he winked once more, sipping from his drink and watching the golf on the TV above the bar. She hurriedly got the other men their drinks before returning to stand in front of the gorgeous biker.

“You know Trager?” She hushes, eyes pleading him for something. He couldn’t quite tell what she wanted him to say, so he gambled on a yes.

“Yeah, I’m SAMTAC, here on vacation. Trager and I go back pretty far.” He chuckles, taking another sip from his drink.

“Right, got a name blue eyes?” She asks, giving him a little smirk.

“Kozik.” He chuckles, reaching for her knuckles. He takes them into one big, ringed hand for a second before dropping it on the bar.

“Well Kozik, what brings a Tacoma bad boy like you to Dallas on vacation?” She asks, wiping out a couple glasses as her eyes scan the bar for anyone looking for a drink.

“Just got sick of Washington, I guess. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta tell ya, I’m lovin’ the view.” She snorts, rolling her eyes as she pours another drink for one of the men down the bar.

“How many poor unsuspecting crow eaters you use that on?” She scoffs with a smile. He laughs, giving her a great big smile making her heart jump.

“Probably too many.” He admits, shaking his head.

“Where ya staying?” She asks, writing down her name, apartment, and phone number on an old tab receipt.

“Mariot. Lemme tell ya, those beds suck ass.” He chuckles, eyes watching her scribble. Tig made Kozik a deal, if he could get the girl back to SAMCRO he could patch in. He took the job confidently, how hard could it be to convince a chick to get on a motorcycle with a hot biker? He chuckled to himself as he thought about Tig’s conversation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Kozik!” Tig shouted through the shop, finding the blonde in the lot working on his bike. “Dumbass! I got a job for ya!” He shouted, waving the big blonde into the clubhouse.

“What’s up?” He asks, wiping his hands off on a grease rag in his pocket.

“Tell you what, with all the shit that went down with Gemma, it got me thinking about a girl I saved.” Kozik snorted, raised his brows at the older man. Tig scowled, swatting him upside the head. “Not like that you fuckin’ idiot. Anyway, this girl is really important man. Be serious, or I’ll find someone else.” Tig warned, pointed a finger at the younger man.

“Sorry, man. Go on.”

“Anyway, lockdown is in four days. You gotta get this girl back here so I can keep her safe.” His eyes were darker than normal, Kozik noticed. Tig really cared about this girl.

“Okay, what’s in it for me? Where is she even at?” Tig looked to the floor.

“I’ll let you patch in. She’s in Dallas at a hole in the wall bar, I’ll give you the address. You up for the challenge?” He asked, scribbling down the information he needed. He watched on as Tig pulled his chained wallet from his pocket and pulled a picture from it. His thumb brushed over the little Polaroid.

“Dallas, man? That like twenty five hours away without stops dude.” He groaned, frowning. Tig grabbed his shoulder and Kozik met his eyes.

“I know, I know it’s a lot. But if anyone has a chance at convincing her to come home, it’s you. Please.” Kozik could tell he was so serious. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the photo from Tig’s hands and the address and got ready to head out. “Kid? Be careful. She’s a firecracker. She could, in fact, kill you if you piss her off, courtesy of me by the way.” He chuckled before he headed back to the garage.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well here, I’m not sure if my fold out couch is any better but Pop wouldn’t want me leaving you in a shitty motel.” She chuckles, sliding her information across the bar to the man before disappearing out of sight. Her shift is cut short by Jade appearing and grabbing the towel from her hands.

“You and blondie get outta here, Dax wants me to close up since we’ve been pretty dead. Go on!” She laughs, pushing the younger woman out the bar’s two-way swinging door and handing her her purse.

“Oh no, he’s a friend of Pop’s. So no. I won’t be ‘getting outta here’ with him.” She laughs, hopping on her bike and starting it, when his Dyna roars up next to her.

“You out already?” He calls, giving her a sweet, sexy smirk. With a nod, she zooms away with a smile, letting him follow behind her as she headed to her apartment. Pulling into the lot, she hops off her bike, waving him into the same spot she was parked in. As she heads up the stairs, she finds Missus Cipriani sitting on her porch, coffee cup in her wrinkled hands. Grabbing a chair, she sits next to old woman and offers Kozik to lean against the rail.

“Sweet girl, you found yourself a man?” She asks, grinning at the blonde leaned against the iron railing.

“Yes ma’am,” Kozik responds before she had a chance to get the words out. Kozik steps up, patting your shoulder.

“You look nice, tell me young man, what do you do for a living?” She asks, sipping her chamomile tea with honey. Lyra could smell the sweetness and desperately longed for a cup of it.

“I’m a mechanic in Charming, California.” He smiles, gripping the ebony-curled woman’s shoulder.

“Very nice, you two are cute. Have a good night, sweet girl. I love you.” Missus Cipriani smiles as Lyra stood to head to her door. “Lyra?” She asks as Kozik stepped into the small apartment, her apple doll face scrunched up as she smiled wide. “He’s a cutie. And a keeper. Good night, baby.” She grins, all big teeth and wrinkly skin. Lyra grinned back, blowing her a kiss.

“Night, Elsie. Love you. Sleep tight. If that damn cat wakes you up again let me know, I’ll kill that scraggly bastard.” Elsie laughed so hard for a moment, Lyra couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Of course dear. Goodnight.” Lyra steps into her apartment shutting the door. She turns to face the blonde, nervous and a little scared.

“So, Kozik. That’s it? Just Kozik?” He chuckles, looking her up and down, soaking in her petite body, licking his lips.

“It’s Herman Kozik. Don’t call me Herman.” He nips, pointing a finger at her. With a giggle, she unbuttons her black shirt, pulling it off to reveal a floral tattoo on her shoulder, and a plain black bra.

“Feel free to get comfy. I’m gonna go change and I’ll be right back.” She disappears, leaving him to collect his thoughts. They should be on the road by morning or they’d never make the first night. Though if he were honest, he’d rather they stay holed up in her apartment, finding out more about each other, maybe on a deeper personal level. He found her insanely attractive, he found himself having a hard time controlling the urge to touch her.

“Hey, want a beer?” She calls from the kitchen, drawing him back to earth.

“Yeah, that’d be good. Hey, I got a question.” He states, popping his beer cap and putting it in the pocket of his kutte and taking a swig.

“What’s that?” She asks, a small smile on her lips.

“I need you to come back to Charming with me.” He croons, eyes pleading with her.

“Oh no. No you don’t.” He tries to stop her but a fire rages in her eyes, hand gripping the neck of the bottle.

“Listen, I gotta bring you in one way or—“

“No.” She states plainly, sitting on the couch next to him and sipping her beer.

“Come with me.”

“No!” She barks, glaring at him.

“You don’t have a choice. I’ll kidnap you if you wanna look at it that way. Against your will, you can tell everyone in Charming I did it. I kidnapped you, but Tig knows and so do I, it’s for your safety. Get up, we gotta go. Pack a few bags, nothing major, it’s only a week.” He informs, taking another drink trying to calm his nerves.

“Make m—“ He hand covers her mouth and he gets within inches of her face.

“Don’t. Trust me, love. That’s not gonna end well.” He growls low, watching her eyes widen under his hand. With a quick, swift kick, he was flat on his back heaving for breath as she was sprinting away. Catching her ankle, he drops her on the floor and handcuffs her. “Tig was serious.” He huffs, trying to catch his breath.

Lifting her to her feet proved difficult, especially when she slammed her head into his. Grasping at his eye and growling, he tackles her to the ground leaving her there as he headed to her bedroom to pack a couple bags. When he was finished, he dragged her to his bike. Padlocking her handcuffs to the seat strap, he tucks her bags into the saddlebags.

“Christ, you’re such an asshole.” She hisses, her wrists burning from the tight cuffs.

“I’ll take those off if you promise to behave.” He coos darkly, trying to look scary. She chuckles with a glare.

“Behave, Pop did tell you I wouldn’t go willing, didn’t he? That would be why you have the cuffs, right? I mean, unless your a motorcycling badass who plays rent-a-cop.” She snarls. He was tired. He’d been up for almost twenty-seven hours, and he was exhausted. He gave a yawn, and she felt a little bad for being such a pain. Deep down she knew Tig was doing it out of love, but had he really sent this big brute to drag her back kicking and screaming? Of course he had. He sent this big blonde on purpose. He thought she’d be so swooned by his looks that he thought he’d be able to whisk her away. “Fine, I’ll cooperate, but take these off please. Number one, it’s not safe, and number two, I’d rather hold on to you. For safety reasons of course.” She giggles.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m unhooking them on one condition only.” He growls, fingertips feeling his cheek gingerly and wincing. He’d have a black eye from her little excursion.

“And that is?”

“You look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t plan on running, kicking my ass again, or ya know, any crazy horse shit Tig taught you. He’s just trying to keep you safe, and honestly, I don’t know why he sent me. He still blames me for his dog dying. So I don’t know why he sent me, but he did. He trusts your life with me, and I plan on delivering you to him alive. How alive you are, depends on how you wanna act.” He heaves a long sigh, sucking in a huge yawn.

“I know. Listen, let’s sleep tonight and leave in the morning. You’re too tired to drive. You can even handcuff me to you if it helps.” She assures, resting her head on his warm, bare shoulder.

“Yeah, sleep sounds good.” He whispers, unlocking the padlock and helping her off the bike. They went back inside and he did like she suggested he handcuffed her to himself and they laid on the couch. He laid down first, offering on top of him as a totally viable place to be comfortable. Giving a giggle, she agreed. Laying on him, she shivers against him, reveling in the warmth and sweet cologne and smoke that swirled around them. Yanking the blanket off the back of the couch over the two, in seconds they were fast asleep.

“Morning.” She calls from the kitchen as she hears him roll over. He’d left the cuff-keys within reach, and this morning at six when she had to pee, she found them and unhooked herself. She’d considered running, he wouldn’t find her for at least a few hours. She’d decided against it. It might be nice to go back to Charming and see everyone she’d missed. With a sigh, she found herself feeling a little excited.

“Tell me, Tacoma. You originally from Tacoma? Or somewhere else?” He sat up when he heard her voice so far away.

“How did you—“ She tosses the keys to him and disappears again, returning with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Thanks.” He smiles, taking a bite. “I’m originally from Charming, but me and Tig had a falling out. I left for Washington and Tig became Sargent at Arms for SAMCRO.” He nods finishing his breakfast and standing to stretch. “Hey, I gotta drain the radiator.” She points him towards the bathroom as she heads to his bike to grab the bags he packed. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he went looking only to find the apartment empty. “Fuck!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle just as she stepped back into the apartment to get rid of half the stupid things that he packed.

“Miss me baby?” With a snide remark, she watches as he heaves a deep breath.

“Fuck off.” He breathes, grabbing her tight against him. Was he scared for her safety? Was he worried that she’d run away? He didn’t know what made him do it, but he did, arms tightening around her. Dropping her bags at his feet, and grips his shoulders. “Next time say something.” He snips, pulling himself away from her and eyeing her bags.

“I was gonna repack really quick. I figured you didn’t pack anything I’d actually wear. Which means I’m either going naked or I’m repacking. And that’s totally up to you.” He grins darkly, grabbing her up and making her squeal before he put her back on her feet.

“Go ahead, I’ll be out here.” He smiles, smacking her butt as she scampered down the hall. Appearing a moment later with her bags, she grins at him as she slips out the door, Kozik following quickly behind.

“Missus Cipriani!” She knocks on the woman’s door. As the little old woman appears, she grins when she sees the bags and the big blonde behind her. “Hey, I’m gonna be gone for like a week. You think you could water Jethro and Lucille for me? I’ll leave you my keys.” She hands over her door key, and with a smile, they disappear down the stairs.

He pulls into a gas station and fills up, heading in for a drink.

“You want a drink?” He calls to her. With a little smile, she gets off the bike and heads in with him. His eyes caught a camera in the corner and a man with a swastika on his chest. Grabbing her hips, he pulls her against him, pulling her hood up over her head. “Don’t question me.” He hums in her ear as he leads her to the case for a drink. They both grab energy drinks and head to the counter. His leather kutte should have tipped they off, but they never saw her face. He got her to the counter paid for their things and headed out, hopping on the bike. “Don’t move.” He whispers, pulling a Kevlar vest from a saddlebag and haphazardly pulling it over her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Kozi—“

“Don’t.” He whispers as the man heads out of the store to a green and off white bronco. Grabbing his cellphone, he dials Tig. “Hey! What does Weston drive? Is he bald?” He asks, his face scowling as Tig answers.

“Is she with you?” He asks, and Kozik assures she’s safe.

“Yeah, she’s got the Kevlar on. Don’t worry.” He murmurs, “listen, does Weston drive a green two tone bronco?”

“Yeah, why? He there?” He asks.

“Yeah. I got it. Just gotta lose him.” He mutters. Climbing on the bike in front of her and shedding his beautiful kutte. “Stuff this between us.” He whispers, before he hears Tig.

“Hey, can I talk to her?” Kozik hands back the phone.

“Hey Pop!” She cheers, getting a sideways glance from a half-mad Kozik.

“He keepin’ you safe?” He asks, voice somber.

“Yeah pop. He’s pretty cute too. Good choice.” She giggles, hearing the blonde huff. Peeking around his shoulder, she sees a smug grin on his face.

“Stay with him, darlin’. I know it’s not ideal, but that Weston guy is gonna try to hurt you. Let Kozik do what he needs to. Don’t fight him. Okay?” He asks as his eyes filled with tears. He was terrified that Weston found them and they hadn’t even left Dallas yet.

“Yeah, Pop. You got it. Hey, is he a good one?” Kozik listened in for a second.

“Yeah, kid. Hold on tight.” He chuckles, swiping quickly at the tears that rolled down his cheeks as Clay walked in.

“Alright, Pop. I love you.” She whispers, feeling her throat start to close.

“I love you too, doll face. You and dumbass keep each other safe, okay? I’ll see you when you get here, hunny. I love you so much.” He whispers, letting her hang up. Tig’s hands smoothed up and down his lap for a while to calm himself down. He should’ve just gone by himself. He should have just done it. Gone and brought her home. He should have never made Kozik that deal. He knew she’d find him attractive, but she sounded genuinely interested. “We need to arrange someone to pick them up the minute they hit California. Make it look like a heist. I’ll send someone else for the bike with a tow truck. Kozik already has a tail. Weston.” He growls.

“Who’s Weston?” She asks as they floor it onto the highway. Kozik checking his mirrors to see the bronco get on right behind them.

“Hold on, babygirl.” He yells over the whipping wind as he cranks the speed. Revering in the feel of her arms squeezing tightly to him, he guns it harder as he weaves through traffic. He hadn’t even meant to call her that, but it slipped out and he didn’t take it back.

“Kozik! He’s gone!” She shouts, giving a shriek and hugging tighter to him as he guns it harder. They headed up to the panhandle of Texas and into New Mexico. As they pulled off into a big gas station and he pulls the bike between two big semis.

“Hey, you can take off the Kevlar. It’s okay. Weston got off in Albuquerque, I got a scout leading him back to Charming.” The pretty blonde heading into the store after filling the bike. She slipped into the bathroom and sat down to pee when she heard the door open and her heart stopped.

“Darlin’?” His rough sweet voice calls from the doorway.

“Yeah.” She calls, finishing up and heading out to find something to drink.

“Hey baby, you okay?” He asks, his arm loosely hanging over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go eat somewhere.” She coos, grabbing onto the front of his kutte.

“Yeah, I suppose we better. You up for breakfast?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, that sounds good. You okay?” She asks, eyeing him. He looked tired and scared. He looks up for only a moment before he grabs her hand and leads her to the counter with a couple energy drinks and a bag of pizza combos.

“I’m just tired.” He chuckles, dropping a ten on the counter and heading out the door, his favorite black-haired girl in tow.

“Yeah, you ready to find some grub?” She giggles as he swings her in a sweet circle, one arm around her waist, the other clasping her hand. “And you can dance.” She grins, laughing as he swings and twirls her.

“Not a lot.” He laughs, helping her onto the bike before climbing on, her small arms wrapping around his abdomen and holding tightly as he searched for a breakfast place. Pulling into a parking lot across from a Mariot was a little diner he prayed served breakfast. It was close by, they could walk over for actual breakfast in the morning. They had finally made it to Milan, that Kozik read on a pamphlet at the door. Heading into the restaurant, Kozik’s hand doesn’t leave her waist. They’d fallen into an easy routine of being in love, and they barely knew each other. He found he wasn’t curious. He’d loved just being around her. He lets her into the corner against the wall, sliding in next to her.

“Hi! Welcome to Milan! What can I get you two to drink?” Asks the bubbly, curvy waitress, with a happy smile. Kozik assessed her quickly before giving her one of his biggest smiles, making the young girl blush. Lyra felt her heart drop for a second, gripping his thigh.

“I’d like a coffee, just black.” She smiles, giving the blonde dirty look.

“Coffee too, got a long trip ahead.” He smiles, patting her upper thigh in contentment. As the girl nods and wisps away, he presses a kiss to her forehead and murmurs in her ear. “Darlin’, the only person in here with my full attention,” his fingers danced up her thigh, making her shift, “is you, babygirl. Don’t you worry.” He rasps, nipping at her ear before straightening up and flipping open a menu. She let out a few shaky breaths as the waitress reappeared with their coffee.

“You need a few minutes to look over the menu?” She asks, pulling her order book and pencil out.

“I do, you?” She looks to the blonde, kissing the bare skin of his upper arm where the tattoo sat.

“I need just a minute. Sorry, we’ve never been here.” He chuckles, one hand absently gently running back and forth along her inner thigh, exciting her senses and making her knees pull together squeezing his fingertips to make him stop.

“What are you doing?” She hushes into his ear, pressing an ardent kiss to the corner of his lips. He turns his head and kisses her square on the lips, his own warm and inviting. The waitress appeared back with her book, ready to take an order.

“If we order, can we get it packaged to-go?” He asks, one arm slung over her shoulders lazily.

“Yeah absolutely! What can I get packed up for ya?” They ordered breakfast, each getting two different things and got their bag of breakfast food and headed to the hotel across the street. He handed off the food to her and carried their bags in. After checking in, they all but sprinted to the room. He was ready to get her undressed, find out what that big tee shirt and shorts were hiding.

As they slipped into the room, she dropped the food on a table, yanking her clothes off in a whirlwind of flying objects, their clothes landing in a pile together. His warm, strong body met hers feverishly, holding her tight as his lips found hers in a passionate meet of tongues and lips. Her fingers combed through his soft blonde spikes, his fingers tangling in her dark ebony curls as they fell to her shoulders when he broke her hair tie. With a laugh, they continued to get more heated. Digging his wallet from his jeans pocket on the floor, he pulls over a condom, rolling it on as she watched. Grabbing his wallet chain, he unhooks in from his wallet, hauling her back against the bed and wrapping the wallet chain around her wrists twice and clipping them to the bannister of the metal bed frame. He stretched her legs straight down under him and she sucked in a breath when his lips met her cool skin with hot kisses and nips. He ground his hips into hers with smooth rhythm.

He gave a low growl as he slid into her, her eyes blown wide legs wrapping around his waist and her ankles crossing. Unhooking her hands and unwinding the cold chain, he drags it along her clammy hot skin sending shivers down her spine and leaving her gasping for air. The cold shocked her and he grinned as he dropped the chain to the floor and her hands found his back, nails biting into his muscular shoulders.

Hands digging for a hold on him as they reached their peak, Kozik grunting against her as he rode out his high, leaving the two breathless and sated. He padded to the bathroom and she heard the shower start. With a deep breath, she headed in after him with her little travel shower kit. They climbed in the shower and she grabbed her kit and handed him a bottle of men’s shower gel and grabbed her own floral scented body wash.

“Should I ask why you have men’s shower gel?” He chuckles, giving her a little smile.

“Tig sends me a bottle every year for Christmas. I told him I missed having him around so he sent me a bottle of shower gel to put in the corner like he still lived with me, or least visited.” She explains shyly, scrubbing his back, using the loofah to trace the letters etched into his wide shoulders. Something about the black ink against his lightly golden skin, the blonde hair and those beautiful ocean blue eyes that drank her in so often, she fell in love. She was totally in love with this perfect, gorgeous stranger. Pop had done it on purpose. He took the loofah from her hands and squeezed out the men’s body wash before putting her floral pink shimmery wash and scrubbing up and down her body. He found himself mesmerized by her beauty.

A few hours pass and she was reading a pamphlet about the twenty-four-hour pool. Shaking Kozik’s shoulder, he rolls and grunts, waving her away from him. Grabbing her cell phone and a towel, she changes into her two piece swim suit and heads down to the pool. Oddly enough, at two in morning, there was a man at the pool, short dark hair and a swastika tattoo at the base of his throat. He was tall, gangly, all arms and legs as he did laps around the pool seemingly minding his own business. She sits her towel on the fold out chair and saunters into the hot tub.

“Shit, it’s early.” He peeked through one eye and looked at the clock that sat on the side table. 3:45AM gleamed red. He reached for her waist to find the bed empty. Shaking his head, he waited a few minutes before getting up to check the bathroom to find the door open and light off. His heart started to pound as he started down the halls to the pool. Shoving into the pool room, he’s woken completely by the bleach smell starting a fire in his nostrils. He looked through the room and found it empty, expect for a SAMCRO towel hanging on a chair. “No.” He mutters, grabbing the towel and hunting around for any other idea as to where she went.

“Jump in, the water’s fine.” A dark voice calls from behind the blonde man. Kozik turns slowly to face a tall brunette, gangly with a swastika tattoo on his chest. Kozik leaned over the edge to find her sitting on the bottom of the pool.

“Christ!” He jumps in, jeans and black tee, grabbing her and dragging her to the surface and ripping the tape from her mouth and pulling her against him. Smoothing the hair from her face and starts chest compressions. “Come on! Come on! Please! Don’t do this to me!” He shouts, giving her chest compressions until she coughs up some water, sucking in a breath and sputtering up water. “Christ.” He heaves, gathering her against him and undoing the ties around her arms and legs. Lifting her up, he carries her to the chair, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her. Carrying her up to their room, he calls Tig to let them know what happened. He puts the phone on speaker as he continues to bustle around, pulling all of her wet clothes off of her. No answer. Slapping the phone shut, he tosses it aside to dry her off with a towel and tugging one of his tee shirts onto her and dragging the three layers of blankets up over her. He dials Tig once more, tucking his piece into the band of his jeans and getting everything packed up. They were leaving. In six hours she’d be the safest she could be at TM and he couldn’t handle her wandering off anymore. Why couldn’t she just listen to him? He paced back and forth until Tig finally answered.

“She’s okay.” Kozik starts, “but one of Weston’s guys tried to drown her.”

“What?” Tig storms.

“She’s fine. Sleeping right now. But I have everything packed and we’re leaving in a few hours. We’re six hours away. I’m gonna get her ready to head out in two hours. I’ll call before we hit the road. Tig I’m sorry. I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” He assures, still pacing.

“Lemme talk to her.” He asks.

“She’s sleeping, man.” He looks to her, eyes closed chest gently rising and falling.

“Kozik.” He warns. Carefully, he shook her shoulder and woke her up.

“Sorry, babygirl. Your pop wants to chat at ya for a minute.” She takes the phone, looking at him with a sad, tired smile.

“Hey, you okay?” Tig asks.

“I’m okay.” Her voice is almost non-existent as she rasps out the words.s

“Good to hear, baby. Kozik wasn’t with you when you went to the pool?” Tig drills her with questions and she starts to hunker into the blankets and drops the phone.

“Hey! She got really scared. What ever you were saying she got so scared, man. Listen, she’s safe. I’ll have her there in eight hours.”

“You better.” He growls. “You’ll be lucky if I even let you patch in after this.”

“Listen man, I don’t even care. As long as I get her back in one piece, I’ll go back to Tacoma.” He assures, clicking shut the phone and looking to her. He finds her staring at him in wonder. “Hey pretty girl, don’t worry. We’ll get you to Tig safely.”

“You come cuddle me?” She gets out, grasping her throat. Grabbing a bottle of water, he holds it gently to her lips, pouring the littlest amount into her mouth. The soothing cool water made her sigh and he crawled under the blankets with her for a second, warming her. “You can’t go to Tacoma. I love you.” She murmurs softly against his chest . He smooths her wet hair as she cuddles closer to him, falling fast asleep.

“Oh baby, I love you too.” He whispers, his heart pounding as she lightly snored.

[theshatteredrose]

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 13) - Original Fiction

AN: Kinda depressing just how long it took me to write this chapter. I’m sorta, kinda coming off of hiatus, but I have no idea when I’ll return to weekly updates. The main point is that I am enjoying writing and planning this project, and I am essentially writing this for me. If anyone takes issue with anything I’ve written, that’s not my problem. I’m just here to indulge in my own interests.

Anyway, enough of that. If you do read, I hope you enjoy. If not, then I hope you move along and have a nice day <3

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 13:

The morning air was cool and crisp as Eishirou stepped out of the helicopter and onto the dew-laden grass. The rising sun cast the Flutterlight Forest in a golden glow. Draping the greenery in an almost ethereal light. Inviting the unwary into letting their guard down.

Eishirou had to remind himself to stay vigilant. The lush green leaves, golden bark, and small colourful flowers shifting in the light breeze hid dark and dangerous ShadowDwellers. And those ShadowDwellers were not averse to destroying the environment around them to engage in battle.

He had to admit he was both excited and nervous about the expedition.

Heading out into the field with just Team 3 was a little bit daunting without Jacob there. But he got along extremely well with Zayne. Rinka was good company, too. And it wasn’t like they would just leave him out in the middle of nowhere. Jacob would never place him with a team he didn’t himself find trustworthy.

While it was essentially Eishirou’s personal assignment, Jacob did have one request of him during this expedition. And that was the map as much of the area as possible. A reasonable request.

He was also rather curious whether that centipede ShadowDweller created new paths for them to use. And whether its reckless freight-train like tendencies opened the way for new locations or ruins to discover.

Still, he hoped not to run into another.

Eishirou glanced around the landing area in mild curiosity as the Elite team gathered their previsions and equipment. His attention was soon drawn to the small pockets of red and blue flowers. There was a small patch of flowers close to him, so he knelt down and got out his tablet to take a photo. He then cross referenced that photo through the database of already discovered plants and flowers.

He wasn’t surprised when he got a match.

Felicia mauve cloud. Ah, blue daisies. Of course.

And the red flowers were…Ixora coccinea, or Flames of the Woods. Fascinating. He wondered if these flowers had any medicinal use. He’d have to talk to Neriah about it sometime.

“Well, shall we begin this assignment?” Ernesta stated more so than asked as she took the commanding role. “Zayne, you are the one who will see to Eishirou’s safety.”

“Got it,” Zayne replied without any hesitation.

“Eishirou, feel free to concentrate fully on your research. We’ll ensure that ShadowDwellers do not interrupt this expedition.”

Eishirou nodded. “I’ll try not to get in the way.”

Ernesta gave him a placid smile. “How would you like to begin this expedition?”

He didn’t answer immediately as he needed a moment to consider his options. It was his first solo expedition, after all. He didn’t want to be frivolous. “Our best bet is to head for the clearing and work our way around from there. I’m curious to see if that Centipede ShadowDweller unearthed new ruins or possibly another entrance to the mine tunnels below.”

“Very well. Zayne shall take the lead with your guidance, while the rest of us will concentrate on security and protection,” Ernesta commanded.

After securing his bag across his chest, Eishirou pulled out his tablet and the map function. With Jacob’s map overlaying his, he was confident that he could lead the team to the clearing. And ultimately back to that underground chamber with the mosaic. That was his ultimate destination in all honesty.

He was curious to know if his dream from the previous night was just a figment of his imagination filling in the blanks.

With Zayne right next to him, Eishirou took the lead through Flutterlight Forest. The name was quite accurate. Other than a few broken branches here or there, and thick shrubbery having been pushed to the side for a make-shift path, there was little change to the surroundings.

The birds were chittering and the insects were chirping noisy. The air fresh with only a slight morning chill. The wind was still for the most part, with only a tender gust every now and again.

Their trek to the clearing was a thankfully uneventful one.

The clearing where they first discovered the runestone and hidden wooden chest had seen better days, though.

“That ShadowDweller torn up this area more than I thought,” Zayne commented as he glanced around warily.

Eishirou nodded. It really did. Broken branches and heavily damaged trees. Torn up patches of grass and soil. There were even a few depressions that weren’t there the other day. It was highly likely that there was a partial collapse of a mine shaft just below the surface. And it was likelier still that there were numerous tunnels crisscrossing the entire area.

They had better be careful were they stepped.

That Centipede ShadowDweller had also opened up some new paths, rendering his map from back then out-of-date. But only slightly. So, it wasn’t anything to be overly concerned about.

Eishirou felt the distinct feeling of having dropped a few inches. It wasn’t overly dramatic, but it did startle him. Enough for his heart to skip a beat.

Before he could react, however, Zayne did. He swiftly scooped Eishirou up into his arms and jumped back a couple of feet. As he landed in a crouched position, his mana wings flickered into existence and one shifted toward Eishirou in an attempt to shield him.

Just as the ground where Eishirou had stood open up.

And a scorpion ShadowDweller crashed into view.

“I’ve got it!” Leon announced.

The ShadowDweller was still half-in the hole it had created when Leon used his mana-claws to effortlessly cut through the ShadowDweller’s large claws, rending it incapable of attacking him in return.

As the two dismembered claws fell to the ground and dissipated into that mysterious dark mist that seemed to make up the entirety of ShadowDwellers, Leon moved in to finish the creature off for good.

Zayne stood to his full height before he placed Eishirou back onto his own feet. But he kept his hand on his shoulder and pulled him close toward him in a protective stance.

Eishirou stared as mist rose from the corpse of the ShadowDweller, flittering it out of existence. The whole thing happened so quickly that he honestly didn’t even have time to feel frightened or even nervous. Startled, yes. Afraid? No. It was an odd feeling. He felt detached, in a way.

Yet, somehow comfortable.

It was likely because he had seen Zayne in action before. He had protected him numerous times before. So, there wasn’t like he had anything to fear, really.

Still, he was grateful that Zayne had been there. And reacted so quickly. He didn’t fancy another tumble down a hole into utter darkness below.

“Ambush predators, yet recklessly confrontational,” Ernesta mused aloud, both oddly curious and yet dismissive of the previous event. “We best practice extra caution.”

Eishirou returned his attention to his tablet and added a few notes of caution. The mines below made the area ideal for ShadowDwellers to ambush unsuspecting victims, be them Elites or Passive.

“We should move on from here. The ground is clearly unstable.”

The location of where that ShadowDweller appeared from indicated to him that the mining tunnels reached further than previously thought. Also, narrow paths may be more stable thanks to the tree roots and thick shrubbery keeping the ground compact. Though it did lead to the problem of a smaller battle area.

From what he had seen, Zayne and the others didn’t find the scorpion ShadowDwellers exactly difficult to battle. Their reflexes and level-headedness were quite astounding.

But that was what Elites did. They battled expertly against ShadowDwellers. They were truly amazing at what they did.

“Let’s move on to that underground chamber,” Eishirou suggested. “I need to give that a proper inspection.”

Once more, Eishirou took the lead with Zayne close to his side, taking his role of bodyguard seriously. Which Eishirou was honestly grateful for. As the path before them caused him to feel a sense of trepidation.

Broken limbs and felled fully grown trees littered the path. Broken into splinters. Thrown aside with ease. Telling indentations marred the soil. Created by hundreds of black, insect-shaped legs scuttering at an abnormal speed.

“Is this where that ShadowDweller chased you?” Leon asked nonchalantly as they walked cautiously down the path.

“Came barrelling through like a freight-train,” Zayne replied. “Able to hear it coming a mile away, though.”

Well, unlike the scorpion ShadowDwellers that liked to burst in from underground, the Centipede at least gave them a warning. A terrifying warning of breaking trees and thundering feet. But it was better than no warning.

The recently forged path might be a blessing in disguise. From what he could tell from his map, a new path to the underground chamber had opened up. Allowing them to reach it sooner.

They moved through the forest in silence. The birds and insects continued to make their noise, unconcerned by their presence. Other than a few fallen trees that they needed to climb over, there were no other obstacles to slow them down.

Minutes later, they finally reached the entrance that led to the underground chamber.

Eishirou pulled to a stop just outside the entrance, however. He felt the urge to inspect his surroundings once more. Lush foliage, thick shrubbery, flowers of red and blue in small patches.

Huh…the area around the entrance wasn’t damaged. No broken trees or torn up earth. Nothing to indicate that that centipede ShadowDweller emerged underground from here. So, it emerged from somewhere else, obviously. But where?

He…couldn’t see any place it could have appeared from. The area around the entrance looked untouched. Not a shrub disturbed. Not a twig broken. Nothing.

That would be something he would investigate later. He was more interested in inspecting the mosaic and underground chamber.

The stone doors that once barred the way had remained opened. Eishirou wasn’t all too concerned about them, even if they closed behind them. He knew how to reopen them. If they worked once, they were sure to work again. But if push came to shove, he was sure one of the Elites would just blast their way out.

“Hm,” Ernesta murmured as they moved to the centre of the chamber, her gaze forward. “So, this is the mosaic that Professor Chryses was referring to.”

Eishirou turned to look at the mosaic, too. Unmarred and in the same condition he had left it. Which was a relief. “That’s it.” He then pointed toward a small opening to the left of the room. “That leads to the underground tunnels. And they’re connected to mining tunnels.”

“And where we first encountered that centipede,” Zayne added.

Ernesta glanced over toward the tunnels and a frown soon spread across her face. “Hm. I am not comfortable with exploring those tunnels. Especially not with the possibility of encountering other ShadowDwellers in such a restricted environment.”

Especially that large centipede ShadowDweller.

“Unfortunately, if we’re to map the area fully, we’ll need to,” Eishirou explained as he pulled out his tablet. “Though, I’m reluctant, too. I’d feel better if there was a way to get in and out of the mines should we encounter trouble.”

“Blasting through the roof not an option?”

Zayne’s sarcastic quip caused a laugh to escape Eishirou’s lips. “I guess. I mean, if the situation was that serious.”

In all seriousness, though, he hoped they wouldn’t need to resort to such drastic measures. If only they could find a way to monitor ShadowDwellers from a distance or at least discover how far and deep the tunnels actually go.

Eishirou glanced down at his tablet screen. He just remembered how his map had alerted him to that centipede ShadowDweller a couple of days ago. A red dot that moved across the screen. He had honestly forgotten about it due to everything else that occurred. He could only assume that the map function had registered the presence of the ShadowDweller and added it to the data also.

Did that mean that if he encountered a ShadowDweller that didn’t immediately attack them (or is immediately destroyed), it will be registered to the map?

“Eishirou?”

Ernesta’s voice pulled Eishirou from his thoughts and he snapped his head up. “Yes?”

“Professor Chryses mentioned that you are able to see recordings from objects containing mana. Are you able to control what information is given to you?” she queried.

Eishirou was momentarily startled by the question. “Ah, well, it depends.” His gaze flickered over to the mosaic once more as a thought occurred to him. There was an abundant amount of mana contained within. “I could give it a try. Maybe if I try to receive a recording from the mosaic, I might learn just how far these tunnels reach.”

He slipped the tablet into his carry bag as he walked toward the mosaic. He ascended the stairs to the altar. The painting upon the wall was exactly the same. That shouldn’t be a surprise to him. Elites wouldn’t be interested in the chamber or the mosaic on the wall. Their first concern was ShadowDwellers.

But he was somewhat startled to note that his dream of the painting was the same. The rainbow-coloured hair, the flawless face. There was only one minor little difference; the eyes were open in his dreams. The painting before him had the eyes close.

…It was probably nothing.

Pushing his musings aside, Eishirou raised his hands and placed them upon the painting once more. He closed his eyes and attempted to use his own mana abilities to draw out the mana residing within the cave wall. And the mosaic itself.

Just like before a series of still images appeared in his mind. Quick flashes of moments in time so long ago. There was…there was a story attached to the images.

Men dressed in blacken overalls. A partially collapsed wall. Miners moving through the narrow tunnels. Torches illuminating shadowy creatures. Miners running in panic.

An entrance high on a hill side. Framed with wooden beams. With steel and wooden planks hastily baring the entrance.

The recording came to an abrupt end and Eishirou found himself taking a stumbling step backwards. Only to fall back against someone and an arm wrapped around his shoulders firmly.

Eishirou didn’t need to open his eyes to look at the one holding him upright. It was Zayne.

“You all right?”

Eishirou clutched his forehead as he nodded his head. “Yeah. I think it worked. There’s another opening. One…of the ancient tunnel. Connected to a mine shaft not far from here. But…the first appears only accessible from underground.”

Those other images; they told a story of how miners broke through into the ancient tunnels. They inspected the tunnels, curious and amazed. Until they encountered tall shadowy beings. Humanoids of the darkest of black. They ran, terrified. What happened to those miners was up to speculation. But the boarded-up entrance to the mines indicated that the mines were closed.

Was that a fraction of the history of these tunnels?

Were…ShadowDwellers around back then, too?

“Ernesta.” Tatsu’s terse voice prompted Eishirou to open his eyes and return to the task at hand.

“Hm?” Ernesta turned to regard Tatsu with a curious expression. But that soon changed in confused one when the other Elite handed her something. “That’s-?”

“It seems to be a badge from one of the Elite teams,” Tatsu informed briskly. “They must have inspected this chamber, too.”

A deep frown marred Ernesta’s face. “And dropped their badge.”

Zayne kept a secure arm around Eishirou’s shoulders as he guided him down the stairs and back to where the rest of the team gathered. He could see their puzzlement and concern easily. Which he understood. An Elite’s badge was a symbol of their superiority. A badge of honour, so to speak.

…If he was able to see images from an ancient mosaic, could he receive a recording from a badge? Though, that likely depended on the intent of the owner of said badge.

“Can I try something?” Eishirou asked as he reached for the badge.

Zayne frowned slightly. “Another recording?”

“Hm. Maybe there’s enough mana here for me to see what occurred to lead to this being dropped.”

He wrapped his hands around the badge and closed his eyes.

The images didn’t hit him as suddenly or as profoundly as the ones of the mosaic did. He saw an animated recording; one he hadn’t experienced before. It was from the point of view of the fallen badge.

A group of Elites walked through the chamber and headed straight for the side path. Like they had known it was there. The group seemed to be…huddled together. He could only see four members. Yet, Elite teams were made of five.

There was a sense of…uncertainty and fear from the badge. From the owner of said badge. They were confused. Startled…betrayed?

But then…a dark shadow appeared from somewhere behind the badge. It…scurried across the ground. Four limbs. Yet, it appeared human like.

…Just like those shadowy beings he saw from the mosaic.

The recording ended abruptly and Eishirou shook his head. Once again, thankful for the strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. He couldn’t help but feel threatened. And that the life of the Elite which the badge belonged to might be in danger.

“What’s wrong?”

“They entered the tunnels,” Eishirou explained, his voice surprisingly shaky thanks to the remnants of the recording. “But there was something following them. A ShadowDweller, I think. But…I can’t be too sure. They definitely headed deeper in, though. I do know that much.”

“I see.” Ernesta frowned as her eyes flickered toward the side path once more. “We…may need to follow, if nothing more than to sedate our curiosity.”

[thepulta]

Future-fic set during the time-skip (provided nobody dies in the next three episodes.) New goal is to draw Lizzie and Marion in their overalls. God, it’s so cute.

-=-

Lizzie was swinging in the little hammock Selmer had strung up in the corner of the mess hall, nose buried in a book. Sally was humming as she polished scraps of metal – God knew what for. Marion had gone into the engine room to grab something and Selmer had his eye on the door, waiting for her to come back to continue their conversation. Sebastian was at the stove making another round of eggs, and Elijah was across from Westlie; a little bleary-eyed as he sipped his tea, but relaxed.

 Funny how the bustle of the mess room was comforting now. The chatter was assurance that everything was alright; all of them were safe and happy. Westlie was doing hypothetical calculations on the closest napkin, chin propped on her hand, half-awake herself. She took another sip of tea and tapped the pen against her lips before glancing up at Elijah. “How about three days off in New Winchester?”

 He gave her a look as dry as his toast. “You’re the captain.”

“I will punch you if you don’t stop saying that.”

“Not very captain-like.”

Westlie considered throttling him. “... Three days it is.”

“Seems good to me.”

They fell back into comfortable silence.

Marion popped back in the room, chatting up Selmer like she never left and they both converged on Sebastian to talk about his eggs and all the ways he was obligated to make them. Elijah yawned and left to sleep. Sally took his place and Westlie passed her the napkin to see what she thought. Easy, relaxed, comforting.

It was late afternoon when they docked in New Winchester.

The city was wrapped in a silky purple glow with a hint of smog. It smelled like fire and... roses? Which was odd, all things considered, but not entirely unheard of. They’d arrived at the peak of blooming season, perhaps. Westlie handed the permit paperwork to Sebastian and took a look over the dock as he headed out to drop it off. The scars of the war were still visible on the city. The dock, for instance, was charred on the edge where a flaming ship had snapped its rope and drifted into the Reach. There were people bustling everywhere though; throngs of skyfarers unloading cargo with a few passengers - women in peacock hats and men with a rougher edge - milling about with their baggage.

“Capt’n.” Selmer gave her a little nod as he popped into the hatch. “’ah was thinkin’- Would it be alright if Lizzie comes along to sell the cargo? She ‘asn’t seen it before- thought it might be a bit educational-like.”

“That’s an excellent idea.” Westlie dug into her pocket with the scrap of address on it. “Warehouse. E. Burnham St. Seems straightforward enough. Why don’t we all go? Three-day vacation and all. I figure whatever hotel you pick you’ll have Marion and Lizzie there too.”

She caught the slightest bit of flush on Selmer’s cheeks as he adjusted his cap. “Aye, that seems likely. I’ll gather ‘em then!”

Elijah poked his head around the corner as Selmer left and shot her a look. “Everyone?”

“Sally can look after the ship and tie things down. One person can be there- or twenty. He has a point. She does need to learn.”

Elijah shrugged, although he didn’t look thrilled and he flipped through one of his notebooks as they waited.

After another fifteen minutes, Sebastian returned with a curt little nod of the head. His butler professionalism still ticked Westlie off even though there was genuinely nothing wrong with it- as she reminded herself for the millionth time as she accepted the notebook and flipped through the ledgers. She nodded back. “Excellent. Permit’s fine. And off we are.”

They made a funny group passing through New Winchester. Lizzie put down her book and cheerfully swung her arms by her side, glancing around at the people and chaos of the city. Marion was periodically getting distracted by the iron-workers selling wares on the side of the road, while Selmer tried to herd both of them weaving around like two overall-wearing cats. Sebastian and Elijah walked together, busying themselves with their own thoughts. It felt like an accordion, compressing and scattering every so often and pausing to regroup when Marion got really invested with some hinges. Part of Westlie regretted bringing the whole crew, but there was the practicality of having Elijah and Sebastian for the sale; Selmer and Marion were so they didn’t have to walk back to the ship or regroup with Lizzie. If anyone was extraneous it was herself. C’est la vie. They were together, this would only take a minute, and it was important to show Lizzie the paperwork.

It took another ten minutes to get to the warehouse; a crumbling brick monstrosity covered with… vines? tucked into the end of Burnham St. cultisac where three other equally run down warehouses hid it from sight. A slight chill from the north blew in and nearby pedestrians turned up their wool collars. There weren’t a lot of them. Westlie frowned and held up the address so Sebastian could read it. “That does say Burnham, doesn’t it?”

“Oi, ‘lijah!” Selmer caught up to them, one arm slung around Marion’s shoulders so she couldn’t wander away, even if she wanted to. “This place seems a bit of a dump!”

“Shh, clients?!” Elijah shot him a look and Selmer grinned, dropping his volume four notches.

“Eh, t’ere all inside.”

“Still, better safe than sorry.” Marion strained a bit as she physically removed the draped arm Selmer had over his shoulder and glanced behind as Lizzie caught up to them.

“Maybe it was damaged in the war,” Elijah offered. “Couple of cracked walls. Some window panes. It takes money to replace those. Same with the vines. Who has money to deal with foliage?”

“True.” Westlie glanced at the piece of paper in her hand. “Let’s hope they have the money to pay us then.”

The barn-style doors were covered with rust and there were a few vines trying to slither down from the top, but they seemed fine otherwise. Westlie stepped up to the doors, considered knocking, but threw her shoulder into the handle instead. They slid back easily to her surprise and she fell forward while a wave of musty, spore-y air burst in their faces. Sebastian caught her shoulder and she gave him a nod. “Thanks.”

“Fuck, that reeks.”

Marion bopped Lizzie on the back of her head. “What did I say?”

“Fine- only on the ship. That reeks though. What is that?”

“Hericium spores?” Westlie glanced at Sebastian. He shrugged. “Hericium’s got a heavy odor, I think. They must grow it here, or some spores got ahold of it and nobody rooted them out. Might explain the vines off the edge?” She shrugged helplessly and stepped into the warehouse. “Hello?”

The warehouse wasn’t colder than the air outside, but it was deeply, disturbingly still. Dust and spores in the air were illuminated by a single hanging lantern, covered with a thin film of Hericium that ended up dimming the light that was coming through quite a bit. The warehouse was three floors tall with giant steel shelves reaching up to the ceiling and one steel walkway following the circumference of the third story. Steel beams supported the room in some mockery of gothic architecture. In the corner, part of the roof was starting to cave in where a shell had smacked into it; the steel in the immediate area was starting to warp under its weight. Funny enough, instead of patching from the outside, or simply replacing the roof itself (which really needed it), the hole was covered on the inside with a giant white sheet? Some sort of fabric. Something itched at Westlie’s mind as she stared at it, but the light was so thin she could barely make out the top of the shelves. Trying to discern the far side of the warehouse was impossible.

“Oi,” Selmer’s hushed voice made them all jump and they turned to look at him. “We got boxes ‘ere.”

They were about five feet tall, some fungal in nature, some wood. Westlie had seen similar, illegal ones, and she reminded herself that it was no longer her place to question, just to deliver.

Speaking of which, Sebastian stepped farther into the warehouse, glancing up on the shelves. “Looks like a mushroom growing hub.”

“All the way to the top?”

“At least the first shelves.”

They all crowded in the middle of the warehouse aisle under the light and glanced between the rows. The air was so thick you could barely make out the walls from the center; vision seemed to range just enough to see from one light to the next going down the center aisle, with each small circle of light stretching into the rows. The brick walls groaned. If there was an office or anything other than shelves, they’d have to find it all the way on the other end of the building near the caved-in roof.

“Fine.” Westlie straightened herself, not entirely sure if she was talking to herself or the crew. “There hasn’t been a wrong address yet.”

Lizzie frowned, glancing up at the shelves as they started walking down the long aisle towards the far wall. “Are those boxes on top, not growing beds?”

Selmer squinted. “Looks like it.”

“How do they get them down?” She paused mid-aisle, looking down one of the rows, and Marion paused with her, making the rest of them stop and look back. “The walkways don’t reach where the shelves are sitting. You can’t get the cargo. ...How did they get them up there..?”

“Fuck,” Selmer whispered under his breath. Marion shot him a look. “’at’s a good point. somethin’s not right about this place, Captain.”

Westlie opened her mouth and was cut off by the slam of the door they’d come in. “Fuck.” She could feel Elijah stiffen beside her as she stalked back the way they’d come. Something skittered in the dark. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Selmer lunged for the doors with her and they were halfway back when a black shape materialized from the darkness skittered across the floor between them and the door, and hissed with angry, blue, phosphorescent fangs. It skittered off into the darkness again.

“T-t-tha- SPIDERS.” Marion screeched. And she bolted for the door.

“Marion! No! Wait-!”

There was a lot of skittering as Westlie grabbed Marion’s arm and felt the other woman shoot past her so hard she yanked both of them to the floor. A horrific stream of spiders as long as they were tall raced in front of the door. They streamed up the walls, onto the shelves, onto the platform. Westlie felt like they were crawling all over her skin and the way Marion was shaking she felt exactly the same if not worse. Probably worse. Definitely worse. One of the spiders stopped, looked their way, and hissed again. It took a few steps towards them.

Westlie struggled to her feet, dragging Marion up with her. “Selmer, did you-?”

“Nope. Will ‘ah after this? Definitely.”

“Make sure there aren’t any on the sides.” She pulled Fitzroy’s gun out of her pocket, taking a breath as she flicked the safety off and leveled the gun at the sky-spider. She waited for a long second. The spider’s black form loomed in the darkness, waiting too. It hissed.

“Fuck this. Give me that.” Marion snatched the gun out of her hand, leveled it and fired all six rounds directly at the black form.

The sky-spider screeched like a shot banshee and rushed them.

“Marion!”

For a full second Westlie braced herself to punch a spider in the fucking face but it took seven steps, teetered, and then thumped to the ground. The spiders around them hissed in unison.

“Oh, fucking lovely. Those were all the bullets we had.”

“We run for it.” Elijah grabbed Selmer’s arm, tugging all of them back towards the main aisle of the warehouse. They’re on the shelves. We stay in the center; we’re alright. There has to be another exit in the back.”

Something on the edges of the warehouse groaned; a gurgle? It sent a nasty chill down Westlie’s spine and she latched onto Elijah’s rationality. “Keep Lizzie in the center. Selmer, take up the rear.”

Sebastian held up a little oil lighter - a bit useless in the cavernous rows of the warehouse, but light enough - and they bolted down towards the opposite wall. Spiders skittered over the walls. A few hung from the ceiling, dropping down low enough until they swung on to the shelves, then skittered down from the top shelf to the ground, swarming into the aisle behind them.

“Hey!” Sebastian screamed. “Anyone!”

“I’m going to murder that client,” Westlie hissed as they reached the last lantern and pressed forward slower into the dark. Somehow despite the dim light, Westlie realized the white patch that covered the hole in the ceiling was spider silk. “Fucking snap his neck.”

“Lov’ly sentiment- murder the spiders first,” Selmer snapped as they hit the far wall and paused for a second, panting. Sebastian held up the lighter, running it over the bricks. Nothing.

“Oi, there! On the right! Is that a door?”

Westlie saw what he meant and lunged to the right. The skittering grew more intense and then there was a hissed, “Westlie!” And she fucking flew forwards, eating the wood floor as a body smacked on top of her. A box crashed behind them where she’d been a moment before and Westlie could feel the rain of splinters on her back and hair. She could have fucking died. She could have fucking died. “Spiders pushed the box off.” Elijah hissed in her ear. “Get up slowly.”

Her heart was about to leap out of her chest as she stood- slowly- and heard the chittering of the spiders’ legs on steel as they surrounded them and inched closer. The taps echoed in the silence of the warehouse. One or two of the black shapes hissed in the dark. Elijah motioned cautiously to Selmer and they slowly regrouped, Westlie’s arm burning where Elijah helped her up. She stepped back in front with Selmer, fists clenched, since, no bullets, because- last time she checked, this was supposed to be an easy sale.

The chittering grew closer, moving in from the sides of the warehouse, and where, ideally, the exit was. Lizzie glanced up and sucked in a breath. “Ah, Selmer? ‘ere behind us too.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered. Marion didn’t have the presence of mind to swat at his cap. “So they are.”

Westlie could see his brain churning a mile a minute and she was just about to suggest making a break for it as a group when a windy whistle-like sound rang throughout the building. In an instant, everything fell still. No taps, no chittering, no hisses.

“What was that?”

“’ey need a better whistle,” Selmer hissed under his breath.

The sound played again: two low windy notes and one higher pitch; less music and more a groan. The taping resumed, but it was less purposeful, more milling, and- and fainter? Westlie straightened, straining her eyes in the light to see where the black masses were moving. Maybe away? It was too dark to tell. The air was too thick. Fuck these spores. This whole place deserved to burn. Something shuffled in the dark and she clenched her fists. “Hello?”

“Oi! Show yerself!” Selmer shouted out.

There was more shuffling and a humanoid shape with their head wrapped in bandages moved slowly, jerkingly through the black mass of spiders into the circle of light. A Neath-er? Westlie’s breath caught and she glanced behind her at Lizzie. “Stay behind Selmer.” Lizzie didn’t look inclined to go chatting but you know, just in case.

“T’e fuck is his problem?” Selmer hissed as the man whistled again instead of responding.

“He’s a Neath-er,” Westlie said. “Barely a man.”

None of the crew looked pleased by that.

The figure shuffled closer until they could really see him in the lantern-light and they were hit with the overwhelming stench of decay. It had to be the same. Westlie remembered that from the boxes way back when and a shudder ran through her. She cleared her throat. “We need to talk to- to- your employer. A shipment of hours?”

The man faced them for a long second, possibly staring at them from where eyes would be underneath the wrap of bandages. It was mostly his head. Westlie guessed there was a nasty wound somewhere on it, and then the left side of his body was thickly bandaged. Filthy rags hung from the right side, showing sallow, purple skin and scarred fingers. It could have been the light, but it seemed like mushrooms were poking from under the shirt too.

“... is he in pain...?” Marion hissed to Elijah.

Elijah shrugged.

The man finally turned to the right, facing the direction Westlie had guessed the door was in. He raised his good- good?- arm and pointed with a shaking finger towards the wall. “Gggggoooooooo.”

His voice was worse than the whistle. Half-groan, half-breath, like someone had yanked out his vocal chords.

Marion grabbed Lizzie’s hand and speed-walked toward the door, Selmer and Sebastian close behind. Elijah hung back though and Westlie glanced over her shoulder. “... Let’s get the fuck out of here?”

Selmer made it to the door and there was a rush of warm, un-dusty light. What a dear, old friend the light was.

Elijah was looking at the man. “You... you think he’s in pain?” It was a double question, she was pretty sure. Something indued with ‘what the fuck is this’ and ‘how is he alive?’

Westlie stared at him. “How the fuck would I know?” She faced the man and took a breath. “Oi, you. Are you in pain?”

The man let out a breath that seemed like it came from his nose, mouth, and a hole in his side simultaneously. It whistled like death and Westlie’s spine crawled. Elijah looked horrified and fascinated. “Lighttttt...... it burnssss.....”

“Why are you here?”

There was another long, deep, bone-numbingly painful pause. Its body creaked. “Woooorrrkkkkk......”

Westlie shot a quick look at her first mate. “You going to ask him more? Or can I sell that cargo and get the fuck out of this spider hell-hole?”

Elijah hesitated, and it was one of those times his eyepatch seemed to obscure what he really meant. “I’ll... catch up.”

Westlie’s soul groaned, but... the spiders were gone. There didn’t seem to be much danger other than that. She glanced over her shoulder at Marion who was motioning frantically to come through the door. “Don’t take too long. I’ll send Selmer if you don’t join us to make sure you’re not eaten. For fuck’s sake, be careful.”

“Fair enough.” Elijah’s focus immediately narrowed on the thing.

Westlie speed-walked to where the rest of them were peering from the doorway. She glanced behind where Elijah was pulling out a notebook. The bandaged man had turned aside, almost like it was walking away - unproductive for Elijah she assumed, but maybe that’s what he was asking it to do. “He’ll catch up later.”

“Are you mad?!” Selmer hissed.

Marion grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Spiders?!”

“Ok, ok, ok, let me go. I don’t like it either, but look, the fellow’s harmless. Even Elijah could knock him out. Said he wanted to ask him questions.” Westlie shrugged and glanced over her shoulder again. “If he’s not back in a few minutes you can grab him.”

“Selmer will grab him.”

“Why do I have to get him?! Sebastian will get him.”

“Jesus Christ, I’ll get him then. Is there an office?”

“Sebastian headed over that way.” They all turned around. Once they’d closed the door to the warehouse, Westlie could feel her eyes adjusting to the much brighter gas light. The room was more like a storeroom; boxes on the wall with thick white bolts of silk stacked against the wall. There were boxes of packaged mushrooms too but the air wasn’t half as spore-y, and it was easier to breathe. Lizzie looked a bit shaken and she shot a weak grin at her. “Don’t worry. First experiences are always the worst.”

Marion and Selmer glanced at each other and Westlie could feel them examining that fact with a quick flashback to New Winchester and the start of the war. Marion shrugged. “Checks out.”

They headed into the next room, which seemed to just be for silk, and then into the next; a warm, carpeted, not-at-all dilapidated front office with gas sconces on the wall and a sprawling oak desk. There was a man officiating who didn’t quite look like he belonged in a thick brown coat and white beard. If Westlie had fifty pounds to spare she’d bet he was a Londoner who popped off to the Reach and was enjoying some anonymity.

Sebastian was seated at the front of the desk, flipping through some paperwork. He nodded politely as they walked in and the man sitting behind the desk turned to look at them. He grinned, showing all his teeth, but the smile didn’t meet his eyes and it seemed very hollow. “Came the back way, eh?”

“Oh, I would have deeply appreciated a sign pointing to the right way in.” Westlie glanced around the room. For a front office, there were no visible doors other than the one behind them. “Mind explaining the murderous swath of spiders?”

The man’s grin stayed on his face and it sent chills down her spine. “My... employees have a tendency to get a bit violent if you don’t leave them alone. They double as bodyguards.”

Selmer and Marion hissed it with her at the same time. “You employ spiders?”

The man shrugged, still grinning. “Saves quite a bit on rafter work and manpower. Place a bit of food on a box and they pull it down for you. And extra money from the silk.”

Jesus Christ. It’s Arthur again, but with spiders.

Westlie bit her tongue so she didn’t tell him he was fucking insane and to hire some skinny fucks because mushrooms weren’t goddamn heavy. Marion looked like she was about to be sick. Selmer had turned a deep purple. On the other hand, Lizzie was taking it better than all of them.

Sebastian could undoubtedly see the struggles because the corners of his mouth twitched up faintly and he cleared his throat to save them. “Here, Lizzie.” She popped over to him and he flipped through the paperwork, pointing out the contractual agreements that bound seller and buyer.

While they looked, the man behind the desk kept grinning. Every thirty seconds or so he shot a glance at Westlie and she got the feeling he was deeply amused by her brown front where she’d faceplanted on the dirt floor of the warehouse. She resisted the urge to brush it all off on his red carpet. Eventually she realized if he looked again she was going to leap over Marion and throttle him. Selmer looked like he was going to pop an artery too and she tapped his shoulder. “’s check on ‘lijah, eh? Marion, you staying with Lizzie?”

Marion mutely nodded and Selmer copied her, fists clenched. He and Westlie slipped into the back and they got one full room away before Selmer exploded. “THERE WAS NO FRONT DOOR.”

Westlie furiously ripped off her vest and shucked down her front, smacking the dirt off it. “I do not walk around like this!” She put on a mocking tone. “Oh, I save quite a bit on rafting work and manpower. Hiring SPIDERS?!”

“There was NO FRONT DOOR.” Selmer gestured inarticulately at the back where Marion and the rest of them were. “He walks through that fucking warehouse every day! That’s a dead end! He made us walk through that. He makes all his sellers walk through that!”

“What the FUCK. Who is that much of a DICK.” Westlie grabbed a mushroom from one of the shelves nearby and threw it at the wall where it bounced off with a soft smack. “If he wasn’t a client. Oh, if he wasn’t a CLIENT. Even if he IS a client.”

“Lizzie was in danger. We brought her into a FUCKING SPIDER DEN.”

“HE EMPLOYS SPIDERS.” Westlie screeched something at her hands, waving them back towards the warehouse door. “HE EMPLOYS SPIDERS. HOW DO YOU PAY A SPIDER, SELMER.”

“You feed them.” Selmer was suddenly deathly calm and Westlie caught the mood shift. “Captain, you feed them.” He stalked towards the door back to the office.

“Selmer, Selmer!” She snagged his arm before he made it to the door. “Selmer- no.”

“You feed them, Faire.”

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I know. I know. I know. I-” Westlie took a deep breath. “He’s a sick psychotic son of a bitch, but we’re alive, and we’re ok, and that whistle called them off, and I can only assume he was right that the spiders roll as some sort of protection, and we shot one.” She took another deep breath and tried to talk herself into being the voice of reason. “We’re fine now.”

“If that bandaged fellow hadn’t whistled, ‘d all be dead! Lizzie would be dead!”

Westlie shoved down the spike of her blood pressure. “But she’s not! We’re not!”

Someone cleared their throat and Selmer whirled around; Westlie looked from behind him. Elijah was in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “What did I miss?”

“’Lijah, that fucker has no front door and he hires spiders.”

“Hires spiders- you mean-” Elijah put the pieces together slowly and a frown stretched across his face. “Hm. I assume you mean ‘hire’ in the sense of ‘keeps and breeds’ since I’ve never heard of a sky-spider wanting money.”

“’ey would have eaten all of us!”

Elijah took a look at Westlie between Selmer and the door and sighed a bit. “They didn’t though.”

“We’re not gonna do nothin’?!”

“Selmer, as much as I want to, weren’t you the one saying you wanted to be on the ‘right side o’ the law’?” Elijah walked over and patted his arm. “You have every right to be upset, but think of Lizzie and Marion. If it gets out we killed a client. Well, that’s it.”

Selmer’s face was still furious, but he shrugged a little. It made sense.

Westlie let out a breath. “Are they-” Saying ‘spider’ again felt like it was giving fear too much credit and it might set Selmer off again. She cocked her head in the direction of the warehouse. “-still there?”

“No? Wherever they were before, they went back. “The bandaged weaver- he called himself a weaver anyway- went with them. I couldn’t get much out of him.” Elijah flipped open his notebook. “If that’s true, they might have him working because...” he paused “... they won’t eat him.”

Selmer let out a growl and Westlie caught his eye. “Selmer.....”

“He didn’t really say what happened to him. He couldn’t get out more than a few words.”

“... ‘ell, you seem to know quite a bit about ‘em though, Captain Faire. ‘ow about you fill in the gaps?”

Selmer only used the full title when he was pissed and Westlie refused to meet his eye. “All I know is a few boxes from the Neath came into Fairweather once, a long time ago. We weren’t supposed to open them, and I think they were illegal.” She frowned a bit, trying to remember the details. The captain who was shipping them was slimy for lack of a better word, and everything he said felt like a joke. “They had to be transported in another, larger crate too, and even that was covered. Disguise, maybe? We moved the crate from one ship to another at night. Nobody knew what was in them, but whatever it was, it smelled like him. Smelled like death and dust. That thing speaks. It works. It’s.... alive enough?”

They all frowned; the room got quiet until it was too quiet and they all looked at each other, unsettled.

Selmer finally shook his head. “Let’s get the fuck out of ‘ere.”

They walked back towards the office and Selmer opened the door just as Lizzie did. She gave them a bright little smile. “All done!”

“Twelve-ninety for the lot.” Sebastian glanced at Westlie as they shut the door behind all of them. “Ten sovereigns off because they wouldn’t be delivered inside the warehouse.”

“Well-spent,” Westlie muttered back to him.

Elijah, Selmer, and Lizzie surrounded Marion as they entered the warehouse again. Like in the beginning, it was deathly quiet. There were no signs of the spiders, minus the shattered crate of what looked like wood chips. The lanterns swung eerily, and now she was paying attention, Westlie could make out faint strands of webbing swaying from the ceiling. If anything reminded her of the bandages and the stench of decay from the Neather it was that. Fuck this place. Their pace got faster as they slipped through the main aisle until they were nearly running to the entrance. They turned the final corner but Marion stopped dead and choked at the corpse of the dead spider before them.

“Almost there.” Selmer grabbed her arm and lead her around the side, putting himself between her and the corpse. Marion booked it to the doorway and they yanked it open together. Marion squeezed through first, dragging Lizzie; Selmer followed, holding the door open for Sebastian and Elijah. Westlie slipped through last and slammed the door shut. She reached into her pocket for the address and ripped it up as viciously as she could. “Fuck. That. Never fucking again.”

“No offence, Capt’n, ah don’t think it’s safe to even deliver outside.”

“Well, we do have to do it.” Westlie mentally rolled through the list of people who could stave off a dozen sky-spiders if they had to. “We’ll hire a few dock hands tomorrow. You don’t deliver it alone.”

Selmer didn’t look thrilled, again, but that was the best compromise they were going to reach.

Lizzie was the only one who didn’t have her spirits dampened as they walked back to the Pyrrhus and she flitted between chatting to Marion and Selmer - somewhat subdued - and Sebastian, who was surprisingly blasé about the whole thing. It seemed like they were chatting about prices and haggling for a while, and Westlie eventually felt herself tune them out.

The world passed in a blur from reaching the Pyrrhus where Lizzie gave an enthusiastic retelling to Sally, who was pissed that they hadn’t brought their gunner, until sometime in the morning when a few burly dock hands showed up for their pay. They paid them. Selmer collapsed in the lounge afterward and ordered a beer. Westlie considered ordering one too, but settled for a cup of earl grey. The waiter brought it boiling and over-seeped per usual, but it tasted unusually delicious.

Selmer glanced at her as he downed half his pint in one go. “Nev’r again, right?”

“Never-fucking-again.”

They toasted to that.

-=-

Elijah laid his side of the paper on the table and lightly circled one of the ads. “There’s this one. Lustrum is a nice, simple run. Might as well do that, then make a stop for the one you found at Carillon.”

Westlie glanced at him from her own section of the classifieds. “The winds are tricky that direction.”

“…That sounds like a yes.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted something easy.”

“Just an offer. I thought you might get bored.”

“Well, I do love being woken up at midnight.” There was a comfortable pause as they both grinned behind their papers. Westlie took another sip of her tea. “We can sign the ledgers later today.”

There were a good ten minutes of silence. Westlie was vaguely aware of the rest of the crew in the lounge now, Marion looking more chipper than she’d been the past two days - enthusiastic even - and Selmer still a bit subdued, but mostly the same. They seemed to have gotten past the incident. Lizzie was having a sulky morning with her cap pulled halfway over her face; probably an unrelated mood.

Westlie flipped into the Local section, paused, then leaned forward and set down the paper. “Elijah, look at this.”

“Another job?”

“No, no. This.” She pointed at one of the articles on the side. It was perfunctory.

WAREHOUSE FIRE.

Early this morning, two buildings on Burnham St. burned due to vegetation overgrowth. Warehouses were abandoned several years ago due to building code changes and were damaged in the war. No official occupants or deaths reported. Witness accounts of shots in the vicinity, but no bodies. No sightings of vandals or looters present.

Westlie and Elijah stared at each other for a long second, then simultaneously looked at Marion - cheerfully eating two cherry danishes and settling in on full plate of breakfast.

“... You don’t think-”

Elijah looked at her. “Do you want to do anything about it?”

Westlie looked at him. “.... No.”

“Then don’t do anything about it.”

She shrugged and they kept reading.

[authoratmidnight]

Aiballship + 39?

...because time’s run out.

how dare you

ya’ll want me to suffer apparently

The world was ending. Of that Ai was certain.

It had started when they created and programmed SOLtis for war, gave them the capacity to kill. No one was quite sure what went wrong.

Some said a virus corrupted the systems and made them unable to distinguish friend from foe. Some said a skilled hacker took control of them and changed the programming. The most popular theory was just a ‘robotic uprising’ one.

But whatever the case, the world was ending and SOLtis were enemy number one.

Ai groaned as he leaned against the broken wall, one arm wrapped around his middle as oil and grease leaked out through the tears in his synthetic flesh.

His other hand clutched a bag tightly, a bag weighed down with bandages and gauze.

‘Come on, I can’t break down now, I have to get back to Yusaku, he needs me,’ he thought. His limbs were already stiff and beginning to seize up from lack of repair, and loss of the grease and oil that kept him functioning was not helping things.

He hesitated for a bit, listening to the roaring sounds of explosions and gun fire in the distance.

Ever since the SOLtis had turned they had become enemy number one, and that included Ai. He wanted to part ways with Yusaku, that way at least he would be safe. But Yusaku was having none of it, Ai was his partner and his friend, he wasn’t about to leave the only tie to his life he had left.

So they stuck together, even though it meant that finding decent shelter, food and care was that much harder.

As the sounds died down Ai started off again, he needed to get back to their safe house, to help Yusaku.

Despite his best efforts to protect Yusaku he had still gotten injured, wounded when an explosion went off nearby. Ai had done his best to bind the wounds, but it still needed constant dressing and care, which was why Ai had dared to leave him to go in search of some fresh dressing. He just seemed to keep bleeding through what they had.

As he ran he could feel his legs shaking and growing harder to move, sticking every couple of steps. Damn if only he’d been more careful. He’d almost been caught and had been shot at as he ran to escape, in the process a large blast had ripped a hole in his side.

‘Yusaku’s gonna chew me out for sure,’ he thought with a weak laugh. ‘He’s always telling me to be careful and not be stupid.’

His foot caught on a rock and he stumbled, crashing to the ground with a thud as his limbs chose that moment to stick and refuse to respond. Ai groaned and brought a hand to his head, now his vision was beginning to glitch out too, the focus slipping in and out.

‘I wonder if I can die, stuck in this body,’ he wondered as he forced himself to his knees. Transferring to another SOLtis was an option by trying to find a blank one was nearly impossible what with them all being destroyed. And with the network down he couldn’t hop into it or a duel disk.

‘I know I said A.I don’t pray but, please, if there is a god, if one is listening, please, just let me make it back to Yusaku,’ he thought, struggling to his feet.

Fighting stiff limbs and blurry vision he staggered back to the place they had been holing up, the only place they could be safe.

“Yusaku?” he asked, voice soft as he peered in. “Are you awake?”

“Ai?” His weak voice sounded from the other room and Ai felt a flicker of hope in his chest.

“I’m back-I found-I brought bandages for you,” he said. “Now we can patch you up.” He dragged himself through the rooms to the small bed where Yusaku lay. Or at least he was supposed to be laying, as he had been when Ai left.. He had also been sleeping.

Now he was awake, sitting up and had removed most of his bandages.

“Ah! Yu-yu-yu-yu-Yusaku!” he exclaimed, covering his mouth abruptly. Now his speech was skipping, like a scratched CD or broken record. That couldn’t be a good sign.

“Ai? Is everything alright?” asked Yusaku. “What happened to you?”

“It’s n-nothing,” he said, dropping the bandages on the bed beside Yusaku. “Why are you-did you,” he gestured to Yusaku and his wounds.

“They were itchy and sore and tight.”

“Yeah to k-keep your insides, inside,” said Ai, hands shaking as he reached for Yusaku. “Let me fix you up.”

"I can do it,” said Yusaku, placing his hands on Ai’s as he reached for the bandages. “You need to look after yourself. What happened to you?”

“It’s nothing,” said Ai, pressing a hand to his forehead. Damn it, his vision was slipping again. Was this what it was like to be dizzy? “Just a small tear, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not,” said Yusaku, one hand moving to brush over the injury and coming away covered in black oil. “You’re leaking oil and grease everywhere.”

“And you’re leaking, human juices,” he retorted.

“It’s called blood,” replied Yusaku with a hoarse laugh, the first time he’d laughed for a while.

They sat in silence, Ai on the floor as he could not longer stand, while Yusaku worked to bandage himself up, Ai’s movements too slow and jerky to do it.

“Yusaku I don’t....I don’t think I’ll be able to go any farther,” said Ai finally. “I’m b-b-b-breaking down. You’ll have to g-go on without me.”

Yusaku was quiet, flinching as he touched his side, trying to wrap another bandage around himself. The wound was so deep that he wasn’t even sure that the bandages were doing much for him. Clenching his teeth in pain he stood up, sliding off the bed and moving to sit in Ai’s lap and looping his arms around Ai’s neck.

“I don’t know how much time I have left either Ai,” said Yusaku, leaning against his shoulder. “I think this wound is, deeper than we thought. I feel so tired Ai. I don’t think I’m going to be going anywhere either.”

“Yusaku! You can’t!”

“I don’t think I get a say in this Ai,” said Yusaku. “So can you, stay with me please? Till the end? I don’t want to be alone. Dying alone, the thought scares me.”

“Of, of course Yusaku. But you’re not going to die, you’re going to be fine,” said Ai.

“You don’t need to lie Ai,” said Yusaku, pressing his forehead to Ai’s, tears glistening in his green eyes and hands tangling in Ai’s hair. “I love you Ai, I love you so much.”

Ai trembled as he gently put his arms around Yusaku, careful not to touch the bandaged side. “Oh Yusaku...”

Yusaku leaned down and pressed their lips together and Ai was grateful that he could still feel things, Yusaku’s lips soft against his. He wasn’t sure he liked how cool Yusaku felt though, or how pale he looked. Just how much blood had he lost?

“Ai love you too,” murmured Ai against Yusaku’s lips as he kissed him back. If this really was to be their final moments together then he wanted to savour them as much as he could.

Carefully, and with great difficulty, he helped Yusaku back into bed before laying down beside him, linking their fingers together between them, his other arm draped carefully around Yusaku.

As the light in Ai’s eyes began to flicker and dim he leaned in so their foreheads were touching and gave Yusaku’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll stay with you as long as you want, as long as I can. I promise.”

Yusaku gave him a weak smile as his eyes fell closed.

“Thank you, Ai.”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Shifting Intentions (baon)

Summary: Edge knows his brother very well and he doubts that Red came over for a coffee and a heart to heart.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Brotherly Bonding

Notes: The urge to write the Underfell brothers was overwhelming. Sometimes we get a little reminder that while Edge is a sweet, loving husband and friend, he also grew up in Underfell and some things are difficult to leave behind.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The leaves were mostly fallen from the trees, torn down by the wind and leaving behind bare, creaking branches. They were layered atop the ground, crunching underfoot and scuffed up in rustling bunches beneath his boots as Edge moved around the chicken coop.

With the growing cold, it was time to check over the squat building to make sure it was winterized. No cracks to allow in a chilling breeze, no loose roofing to drip snowmelt down on their sleeping ladies.

And no gaps in the fencing to allow one small, sneaky chicken to escape in the night.

“There it is,” Edge murmured in satisfaction, fingering the small hole in the wires. Twice now Nugget had escaped and found her way into their house. The second time, Edge didn’t bother to wake Stretch. He carried their wayward hen back to the coop himself while she clucked unhappily at losing her place on their bed. That was last night and today Edge vowed to find her method of escape, as Stretch’s suggestion that she was learning to teleport was very low on the list of possibilities.

The gap in the wire was caused by two overlapping sections and wasn’t really visible from any angle. It was a surprise she’d even discovered it, but then, Nugget was surprisingly clever for a small chicken. And troublesome. And frankly charming, scuttling around Edge’s boots, clamoring for attention even as he sealed off her method of escape. She reminded him a little of a skeleton he knew, not that he’d name unnecessary names.

Edge mended the hole carefully, making sure to trim the wire ends closely, and he managed to not clip off the tip of his own finger when a loud voice came from above.

“playing a little handyman today, eh, boss? hope you nail it.”

It came from far over his head and likely meant Red was perched in the overhanging tree branch. Edge didn’t look up, only finished patching the hole. “Is this where I’m supposed to say screw you? I think I’ll pass, and I believe you were the one who taught me about the importance of home security.”

“ehhhhh.” But Edge knew he didn’t imagine the pleased note in that dismissive tone. “didn’t think you’d be applying it to a flock of unplucked dinosaurs.”

It took considerable poise not to flinch when his brother was soundlessly and abruptly at his elbow, crouching down to give Nugget a scratch. The gentleness of that petting was almost as disconcerting.

It was also suspicious, and Edge wondered with no little trepidation why his brother was even here, especially considered Sans’s visit the other day.

He sincerely doubted it was for same reason and still had a lingering regret for refusing Sans’s sidewise attempt at a heart to heart. It was honestly for the best. He couldn’t be the confidant Sans needed, not where his brother was concerned; Edge was the furthest thing from a neutral party. Stretch wasn’t much better, his opinions were colored as well simply by their marriage. He did hope Sans found someone he could speak to, even if it was his therapist. Stars knew Red had probably driven people he wasn’t sleeping with into counseling.

Red was not likely after a coffee and a chat, but so long as his brother was here—“Quit letting her into our house.”

Leaves rustled as Red moved somewhere next to him. He was on Edge’s wrong side, where the crack in his socket interfered with his vision. More than a minor annoyance; it agitated him to have anyone deliberately out of his line of sight and it was always better to assume everything Red did was with intention. “me? why would i do that?”

Hardly a denial. Edge continued with his repair, twisting the wires roughly. “The only reason I can come up with would be that you’re an ass, though I’m sure you believe it’s for some deeper meaning.”

Red scoffed, harsh and low in his throat. “don’t give a shit one way or another about chicken little here.”

Another crunch of leaves, vague footsteps along with ecstatic clucking and still outside Edge’s limited vision. Red was lingering in his blind spot while Edge refused to give in and move, only listening closely enough that the sharp fingertips scraping lightly over his skull weren’t a surprise. “but if i did do anything like that, might be to remind a certain shepherd to keep a better watch over his flock, little brother.”

There was a deeper meaning layered beneath that, a warning. It stung almost as much as the faint scratches left behind by his brother’s touch and Edge silently accepted both. His brother wasn’t wrong, Nugget’s escapades should have been investigated more closely from the beginning. If she’d been hurt or lost, perhaps even hit by a car, Stretch would have been devastated.

That knowledge did not make Red’s admonishment sting any less. He could feel the weight of his brother’s gaze, silently measuring Red’s current mood and weighing the correct path to take. Edge chose the route that allowed him to ask lightly, “How is Ozymandias?”

It was a distraction and his brother knew it, but he answered with a ready laugh, “he’s a shit. chewed off the heel on my favorite boots. he and sans ain’t gonna be best buds anytime soon, either, not with both of ‘em fighting over a little pettin’” Edge barely shuddered his disgust at that insinuation when Red added, slyly, ”if you’re worried about the kitty cat, you and stretch could come see him.”

That needling hit its target and it was enough for Edge to whip around and glare hotly at his grinning brother, “Don’t you dare offer him that. He’d do it to prove he could and be a mess all night for it.”

A sleepless night he did not need. Stretch was upstairs napping right now as it was. Curled up on their bed as he rarely did during the day, holding a strange new stuffed creature in his arms that was perhaps an octopus? The visible curling tentacles suggested something of that nature and Edge hadn’t the slightest idea where his husband even acquired it, only that Stretch seemed to have taken to it as an impromptu pillow. It was strangely enchanting, enough to be worth snapping a quick picture even considering the faint, worrisome shadows lingering beneath his sockets.

Checks still showed his HP as four, but Alphys stopped in about once a week to run a couple quick tests. She’d offer as much with nervous kindness, texted to Edge alone that perhaps it would be easier than forcing Stretch to come to the lab. She and her equipment both assured them that it was still rising, steadily if slowly. A few extra naps here and there would only help and Edge was happy to encourage them. And to not allow him to rise to the bait of any ridiculous challenges from his brother that would cause him to wake in the middle of the night from preventable nightmares.

To his astonishment, his brother’s grin softened. No more than a fraction, hardly visible to anyone who didn’t know him. Edge might not always understand his brother but he knew him, very well, and struggled to keep his shock hidden as Red admitted, “nah, bro, i wouldn’t do that to the honey bun.”

“See that you don’t or I won’t be the only sleepless one.” It was difficult to force the correct amount of cool sternness into his voice, but his brother would be expecting it. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“sure, why not?” Red said easily. That alone was somewhat surprising. His brother was perfectly content to raid his refrigerator at any hour of day or night, but rarely joined them for a meal.

It would either be a terrible mistake or just possibly a reasonably enjoyable meal. Red and Stretch usually got along very well…until they didn’t. Then they could squabble viciously, their insults chosen with deliberate care to draw the most blood. Worse, Edge couldn’t say that the two of them didn’t enjoy those nights just as much. His love had a disturbing cruel streak at rare times, much the same as Red, only Stretch would have regrets about it later and harsh self-recriminations.

What Edge knew without doubt was that he did not personally enjoy being in the middle of their brutal comedy routine. But the possibility of a perfectly nice (normal) meal with his brother and husband was too much to resist.

Edge gathered up his tools, shooing the chickens back into their newly repaired coop. “Come on, then, I need to get started.”

Red fell in at his heels, disturbingly familiar, as was his, “sure thing, boss.” Like falling through a thin crust of repression into bitterly icy memory. Red added on, relentlessly, “the honey bun is waking up, anyway.”

That statement was already an argument waiting to happen. Edge didn’t comment on it, though, let it go.

Because wasn’t there a dark, buried part of him that was grateful that his brother was watching out, pleased that his brother cared enough about Stretch to want him safe? In moments like these, Edge knew himself for the hypocrite he was, irritated with Blue’s incessant overprotectiveness while being comforted by the knowledge that if anything ever happened, his brother’s watchful eye would be over Stretch. Keeping him safe if Edge couldn’t.

It was better to simply not acknowledge that desire; he kept it back, lurking in the secret recesses of his soul where faint voices sometimes whispered slyly that the ring on Stretch’s finger was lovely, but he would be enchanting in a collar, marked with Edge’s colors and name, a bold declaration that none could mistake.

The words were strictly Underfell, whispers that Edge could never entirely banish, hidden ideas he never, ever wanted Stretch to glimpse. He never wanted to try to explain that he truly did understand that this world was different and the meaning behind it was not the same. It wasn’t about ownership, not the way Stretch knew it.

Anyone from Underfell would look at that collar and know that Edge was Stretch’s entirely, utterly devoted to his wellbeing and protection. A warning and a promise of dust to any who did not heed it, and not the illusion one that Red once wore for him.

But what those internal whispers refused to understand was that Edge didn’t need a collar for it to be true. His certainty of love was more than enough and it only took thinking of Stretch, of every treasured memory Edge possessed of his delight, and of his quiet, trembling voice promising to love and cherish to banish those voices back to the darkness where they belonged.

But not before they wondered with unholy glee exactly what his brother’s thoughts were on the subject, and did they concern Stretch or Sans.

Enough. Edge paused at the sliding glass door, taking a deep breath and shaking away those old, unsettling thoughts. When he pulled the door open, he held back, gesturing impatiently for Red to go in front of him.

For a brief moment they stood there, neither of them moving and his brother cast in shadow from the artificial light that spilled out from the doorway. Then Red stomped in ahead of him, the steel tips of his boots ringing against concrete and then kitchen tile. He hissing out as he passed, “there better be fucking chili dogs for dinner.”

The slight shakiness in Edge’s exhale was ignored, gone in his next breath as he followed his brother, closing and locking the door behind them.

-finis-

[pjnuzlockes]

EHED: Chapter 1

Remember when I said I was gonna update on Wednesdays? Me neither

They’d cover more ground if they split up. After asking pokemon along Route 1, Brinley reported that the Rockets had been last seen along Route 22, and Gary decided to push on ahead. 

Anything to distract him from the pain.

Route 1 was a very long path, a meadowy area that separated Pallet Town and Viridian City. It was dotted with tall trees that the Pidgey line nested in. Along the dirt path worn down by years of travel were holes dug out by Rattata. A few insects buzzed along and Pidgey swooped down to catch them. 

No clouds blocked the sun. Light breeze. Perfect weather for Finley to sunbathe. 

Oscar, on the other hand, was already sweating. About an hour into the walk, he needed a moment to rest. “Oh, Arceus, why does it have to be so hot?” he complained, sliding down the tree he leaned against.

“Oh, come on!” Finley said. He laughed. “It’s not that bad! Just get yourself an enormous plant on your back and you’ll feel great!”

“No!”

Finley pulled a vineful of grass and tossed it in Oscar’s general direction. It drifted uselessly in the opposite direction. “Hey, we should look for a teammate. Quit your griping and go catch something.”

“Can’t. Don’t have any pokeballs.”

As though summoned, several pokeballs materialized just above Oscar and bounced off his head. Mew appeared a second later, snickering.

Oscar tried to catch the balls as they rolled away.

Finley stopped one and laughed again. “So, were you just waiting for an opportunity to do that?”

“Yep,” Mew said. “Got these from Viridian. Figured you guys might want to expand your team a little. Also, here’s some potions.” She tossed them to Oscar, who actually managed to catch this time. “Don’t worry about how I got these.”

Finley and Oscar exchanged glances.

“I wasn’t worried until you said that,” Oscar said. “Did you do this to Gary too?”

Mew furrowed her brow. Then she gasped. “Oh, crap, I forgot! Go catch some pokemon, I should probably help Gary out.” And with that, she was gone.

“... ‘Kay.”

Getting bonked on the head by a pokegod that then vanished to go harass his best friend should have bothered Oscar more. Something about it should have, at some point, stopped him and told him “Hey, this whole situation is kind of messed up.” But, whatever Bullshit Alarm Oscar had ever been equipped with had long since been stamped out. Instead, he shoved all the items but one pokeball, did a series of dramatic poses holding it with Finley, and collected himself. 

“Okay,” Finley said. He cleared his throat. “Since you have the active researcher license, you can really catch whatever you want, but you’ll still only get one shot for each line. How do we wanna do this? Planning has never really been our strong suit.” And on top of that, they’d only really be able to catch one pokemon per area because of wildlife conservation laws. There were some exceptions, but Finley doubted they’d ever encounter them.

Like they’d ever run into a shiny with their luck.

“Well, since that is the case. I was thinking, I’ll really only aim for a Pikachu in Viridian Forest, other than that, I’ll just see what happens.”

“Okay, so we’re going to face the Rockets with whoever we happen to run into along the way. Great.”

Oscar shrugged. “You did say we suck at planning.”

“I did.”

“Not as bad as you suck at throwing grass. You’re literally a grass type!” Oscar grabbed some grass and tossed it at Finley. Just like before, it floated away on the wind.

“Oh god, you’re worse than I am.”

Oscar snorted. Some movement above them caught his attention.

A couple Pidgeys. They landed in the grass and pecked at the ground. One stopped, cocked his head at Oscar, then returned to pecking.

“Psst, Finley, go talk to them,” Oscar whispered. There was no telling if they were able to speak Kantonian- though that was relatively common on routes closer to towns. Best to have someone else do the talking, just in case.

Finley crept forward. “Uh, excuse me? Do either of you wanna join our team?” He asked, in perfect Kantonian and completely misunderstanding Oscar’s intentions.

One Pidgey flew away, but the one that had looked at Oscar stayed. He studied Finley for a moment. He looked tired. “What’s the team for?”

“Well, it’s, it’s pretty dangerous. We’re, uh. Going to take on the League and fight the Rockets.” That probably didn’t sound particularly inviting.

“Just the two of you?” The Pidgey gestured back to Oscar, who was watching while rubbing one arm.

“Uh. Hopefully not,” Finley admitted. “We haven’t really thought that hard about it.”

The Pidgey just stared back. He looked even more tired than before.

“We don’t really know what we’re going to do. But that’s why we’re asking. Better to ask then just lob a pokeball at you, right?”

The Pidgey took a deep breath. “I see.” He flew over to Oscar and landed on his shoulder. “Name’s Charlie. I’m joining the team. Someone’s gotta make sure y’all don’t get yourselves killed.”

Oscar tapped the pokeball on his forehead. Charlie didn’t resist.

“Welcome to the team, Charlie!” Oscar smiled. He sent the little bird back out. No use keeping him cooped up in the ball all day. Plus, it was more fun with a crowd. It made it feel less like Brinley and Gary were off somewhere far away.

The rest of the walk to Viridian went by quicker. Keeping up with Finley and Charlie’s well being in battle distracted Oscar enough from the heat that he almost celebrated when what had to have been the twentieth Rattata launched itself at them.

At least the team was getting good experience. Bit by bit.

Viridian City was a small haven before the twisting, winding roads of Viridian Forest. Named for the shade of the flora, the area was absolutely bursting with greenery. Every house had a garden and community buildings were packed with potted and hanging plants inside. Oscar couldn’t help but smile at a particularly vibrant pecha plant as he walked to the Pokemon Center counter.

After a quick rest (and restock at the Mart), Charlie spoke up. “We should head north to Route 2 first. Then come back for scoping out Route 22. We won’t be able to go far, but we should try to recruit as much as possible.”

Oscar nodded, done playing with a fern planted next to the road. “We may be able to meet up with Gary and Brinley soon, too.”

“Let’s not get too far into Route 2. Don’t really wanna run into any Weedles just yet,” Finley added. “We’re not quite ready for that. Even if I’m part poison type, I’m still not resistant to Weedle poison. And you and I both remember what happened last time we had a run in with a Kakuna nest.” He looked pointedly at Oscar.

Oscar laughed. “We were fine.”

“No Weedles for Oscar,” Charlie said. He had the feeling he would have to make a lot of rules like this.

“What about a Rattata?” Oscar pointed ahead where one sat, grooming herself. “Hey! Wanna join our team and help us beat up Team Rocket?” he called.

“Shh! Not so loud! What if a Rocket was nearby?” Charlie hissed, exasperated.

The Rattata ran to them. “You’re fighting Team Rocket?” Hopeful. Eager. “They took my friends. The whole nest hasn’t seen them since. We don’t even know if they’re okay.” She looked Oscar right in the eye. “Catch me. I wanna join your team.”

Oscar obliged, and let her back out. “Well that was easy. What’s your name?”

“Vivi.”

“Vivi, do you wanna help me destroy our best friends in battle?” 

“Absolutely.”

---

Route 22 was rather different than the previous areas. It was more rocky, the grasses scraggly where they once were lush. Not to say that the route was devoid of life, it was simply where the terrain became more mountainous. Plenty of pokemon made the area their home, mostly the more rugged lines that didn’t rely on grasses as much for cover. 

A lake had formed toward the center of the route, making what would have otherwise been a short walk to Victory Road more difficult. Old paved roads were cracked and in need of repair, but hadn’t been made a priority over the repairs needed in cities and towns. It was generally assumed that trainers that went out to Route 22 could handle themselves.

“We’ll go no further than this first patch of grass,” Oscar said. He ducked as a troop of Mankeys jumped from the tall rocks overhead. 

Charlie returned from his quick scouting. “Doesn’t look like Team Rocket’s here. Your friend must’ve chased them off.”

One of the Mankeys stopped. She watched for a moment, then grabbed a rock and launched it at Oscar, nailing him in the head. “HEY TRAINER!!”

Oscar yelped and Finley jumped into a defensive position.

“Leave him alone!” Finley growled.

“DO YOU GUYS NEED A MANKEY?” she shouted.

“Oh my god, we can hear you just fine,” Vivi muttered.

“If I catch you, will you agree not to throw another rock at my face?” Oscar rubbed his forehead. He made a face at the small smear of blood on his hand. 

“YEAH SURE.”

Oscar chucked a pokeball at her, which she promptly burst out of. “Hey!” 

The Mankey laughed. “OKAY, TRY AGAIN.” Another pokeball, which she burst out of again, laughing. “OKAY, OKAY, I’LL STOP. FOR REAL THIS TIME.” To her credit, she actually stayed put and allowed herself to be caught.

“Stop shouting,” Oscar said as he ignored the voice inside him saying to keep her in the ball.

“I do what I want,” she said, quieter now. “The name’s Reggie. What I want is- I wanna tag along.”

“Um, okay.”

“Hey, Oscar. I like the new style!” a familiar voice said.

“Gary!” Finley cheered.

Brinley smiled brightly. “I see you guys are getting quite the team. Did Mew give you supplies too?”

“Yeah, seriously, how’d you catch so many pokemon already?” Gary added. He pointed to the Pidgey on his shoulder. “I was only just able to catch Melody here like an hour ago.”

“She stopped by earlier this afternoon,” Oscar said. “Guess she got sidetracked.”

Vivi, Charlie, and Reggie exchanged confused looks.

“Maybe we just had bad luck. Wanna battle?” Gary asked. “We wanna see how well we’re doing with our training.”

“You’re on!”

The first round was bird versus bird. Charlie was faster and just a smidge stronger. Several well timed gusts later and Melody was defeated. 

Next up was Brinley. Reggie jumped at the opportunity to fight someone who didn’t have the advantage.

“Be careful Reggie. No throwing rocks,” Oscar chided. 

“You got it, boss!” she agreed, kicking Brinley in the legs and knocking her over. 

Brinley retaliated with a scratch across Reggie’s face. It hardly left a mark.

“Sorry, kiddo. We Mankeys have pretty tough skin,” Reggie said, kicking again.

This time, Brinley fell onto her back and held up one hand. “Alright, I give. You kick hard.” No need putting herself and Gary in danger when the outcome was clear.

“Well,” Gary said, tossing some coins to Oscar as though he’d been expecting this. “That was anticlimactic. Looks like you got yourself some pretty tough teammates!” He bent down and helped Brinley up. “We’ll totally get you later.”

“We look forward to it,” Oscar said. He and Gary fist bumped. “Next loser buys lunch?”

“Next loser buys lunch.”