#or how almost every first aid humanization is a woman

[rust-bearer]

Almost every ratchet humanization looks so cool and awesome, and then the first aid humanization ends up looking so goofy. We stay losing first aid fans

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

So I’m in a deeply red incredibly conservative state.  I ran a pride month 5k awhile back. The usual group of 3 protestors with an incredibly loud bullhorn showed up to yell at us about how trans people are mutilating themselves and AIDS is God’s judgement and we’re a menace to children etc. etc. etc. But they were vastly outnumbered by runners and volunteers. One of the first race announcements was that they hadn’t ordered enough T-shirts for the amount of people who ended up running, and would have to reorder, so anyone who wanted another race T-shirt should sign up now.

We’re all used to the protestors by now, they show up everywhere. We just ignore them. Interacting with them just encourages them.

I hadn’t realized how early the race date was this year compared to previous years and hadn’t prepared as much, and there were a lot of hills; not to mention there was some confusion as to the race route which resulted in the announcer referring to it post-run as a “4-mile 5k” (they are supposed to be about 3.5 miles. One guy ended up in an entirely different district of the city from where the race route was and still finished first.) I ended up walking a lot of the race, but I finished it, and did do a fair bit of running.

I had top surgery a few years ago but I’ve only gotten comfortable running shirtless this year as body fat redistribution happened. I had been trying to decide if I wanted to run shirtless or not before the protestors showed up and started yelling, then I was like ah. I will run past the transphobes shirtless like a human middle finger. And that is what I did. was wearing delightfully garish rainbow shorts I found at a thrift store and my pink triangle necklace.

Some Americorps volunteers were directing runners at one of the more confusing junctions, I high fived one and panted that I had just joined Conservation Corps. The sound of angry bullhorn shouting faded almost immediately behind us, and there were rainbow flags hanging in several of the yards we ran past throughout the route.

As in previous years, a lot of tough incredibly fit beautiful older people, mostly women, breezed past me during the race. One jogged up even with me with an encouraging “what would you do for a klondike bar!” I wasn’t sure how to reply to this and didn’t have the breath to express that I did not want anything thick or creamy at that moment, but what did come out was “you did remind me that there’s beer at the finish line.” Another lady who walked and jogged near me for awhile near the middle-latter half of the race talked a bit and complained that one of the volunteers organizing the race hadn’t set up the “water” table with fireball shots that she did for some other races and we just got a regular water and gatorade station!

Coming back to the finish line I was handed a flag and ran past long rows of cheering people. Around the corner the protestors were still lurking, but were mostly silent now. Apparently they had gotten worn out by just standing there and not running. As I passed the bullhorn guy shook himself out of his torpor enough to give a halfhearted “is it a man? is it a woman? who knows anymore?” I passed him and the sound of cheering, and then the 80s music (I remember Blondie and ABBA) they were blasting closer to the finish line.

Once most of the runners were back there was a fun run for the kids. A couple of the older ones had also run the 5k (I just know the protestors were awful to the poor guys ughh) but all of them made a lap around the parking lot and got handed medals. All of the adult volunteers and participants spread out around the middle of the parking lot so that there was someone cheering and waving flags for the kids along every step of the route.

There were free snacks, water and beer courtesy of our sponsor [brand redacted]. There was also non-alcoholic “beer”, which I thought was nice to see, I’d been thinking there was a heavily alcoholic element to a lot of local queer events. I drank a lot of water and ate some food before getting a free beer, which still hit me pretty hard after the run. While I was hovering around the refreshment table a big handsome butch came up next to me and I noticed a faded tattoo on her arm of a chain, each link a different color of the rainbow.

I went to put something down in my car just as the protestors were starting to leave, and realized that they were moving on a course that overlapped with mine as I walked to my car. I decided I wasn’t going to stop or veer out of their way and just see what they did. As I got closer they seemed to be talking about how we had definitely totally noticed that they were leaving (no one had.) They noticed me coming towards them and suddenly got quiet, avoided eye contact and skittered out of my way. Ha.

I stumbled into the nearby fundraiser to cool down and sober up in the air conditioning before I left. They were playing girl in red, rupaul, that girls/girls/boys song by Panic! at the disco, and that Taylor Swift song “You need to calm down” that some people on this site complained was cringe. The lady next to me sang along to “shade never made anybody less gay.” I bought a baseball hat.

It’s easy, I think especially if you’re very online and not very active in your local community, to start feeling like there’s no queer community in your area and we’re outnumbered by people who hate us. Unless you live in the middle of Westoboro Baptist territory that’s generally not true. I cannot stress enough how incredibly conservative and red my area is. We’ve got like 3 very loud people with nothing better to do who bother us at every event, and large amounts of people across all demographics who show up in support. I’ve been thinking about this post by @headspace-hotel about not being able to find stuff online and this is a slightly different thing but yeah. If you don’t know what there is in your area, you don’t know what you’re looking for or where to find it when searching online. If you search “is there queer stuff happening near me” google is going to shrug and recommend you Products And Services that it can Sell You. When I moved back home after spending some time in a much more blue state (but which had much less of a sense of community--I think it’s the way we band together down here when we know just what the stakes are) I felt like I was going to be the only trans person in the state, then someone mentioned to me that there was a local private facebook group for trans people to share personal posts and resources with many hundreds of members. There are more of us that aren’t on facebook. The Facebook group, though, introduced me to many more resources I hadn't known were in my area.

Get outside. Find some sort of local queer event and ask around. There will be other queer people. There is very likely something you’re interested in already happening or people who would love to work with you to start it if not. Even if you’re in a very red very rural state, you’re not alone, and chill or neutrally polite people vastly outnumber the few assholes, it’s just that the assholes are very loud and especially if you’ve been marinating in overwhelmingly toxic online environments it can feel like they’re everywhere. They’re not. Don’t give them that power.

The current legal landscape is terrifying and needs a lot of work but it doesn't reflect lived experiences. Get outside, find your local community, show up to in-person events if at all possible, it’s so encouraging.

[chucapybara]

—monsters.

a short arlecchino x harbinger fem!reader drabble.

—in which a wounded innamorati is tended to be blackened hands and mournful words.

notes: "innamorati" is one of the cast in the commedia dell'arte, with the theme of the lovers, if i remember correctly. they are usually a pair, as well. wrote this a few days ago; this came to me with my own version of a harbinger!oc in mind (hence it may come off as self-shippy), but i think it's vague enough to substitute a reader as innamorati. :3c inna also has cryo-inclined abilities (hence titled "Permafrost") and covers themselves in armour!

"You still bleed like a man does."

"And how does... ngfh... a man bleed?"

"Red."

Were it not for the slickened crimson coating her cursed palms, Arlecchino may as well have thought that the Innamorati was no more than an inanimate suit of obsidian. Innamorati's breaths come heavy, misting like frost at the base of her visor.

There is a kinship, in the blood and in the ghastly taint that sours them both. Like beckons like, as the familiar recognises the familiar from a sea of crowds.

For a moment, Arlecchino's dead-eyed gaze flickers over the shadows in Innamorati's helmet, as if searching for a glimpse of the soul that stares beneath. She almost catches the abyssal-flecked hazel, the dredges of human, or what once was human.

"Innamorati."

"Mmh."

"The children will mourn your passing," the Fourth mutters. It's difficult to dress the wound of an acquaintance who refuses to shed their armour, but she improvises. The bleeding must stop eventually.

"Will they, now?"

Arlecchino bows her head, the slightest nudge of a nod. It was not often that Innamorati passed by the House, but every instance always brought with it the intrigue from the children, and the rumour of the risen "abyssal knight". For all the Lovers' aloof frigidity, a wonder it had become when said abyssal knight would bring souvenirs and trinkets for the children of the Hearth after and between deployments, when said abyssal knight would converse with the fosters in a voice soft as snow, gentle as a whisper upon a dandelion breeze.

Quickly, Innamorati had unknowingly earned a place for herself among the denizens of that organisation, and had come under the scrutiny of its unfeeling Father. Hence had Arlecchino found a wounded Innamorati, returned from a mission, stalking past whilst nursing an injury; hence had Arlecchino beckoned her fellow Harbinger into her office, where a box of medical supplies sits in her cabinet for unforeseen events much like this.

"And of you?" The words come slow from 'neath Inna's helm, a gravelled drag to them, strained. "Will you mourn my passing, Knave?"

There is a long silence. With calculating coldness, the baleful moon falls quiet, perhaps contemplative, perhaps resentful of the question.

How many has she reaped? How many throats slashed, heads ground into a marrowy pulp? And of the many, of what number were those she had no strength to aid, left to keep the reminder of their lives in their final breaths?

Even now, from the depths of that icy past blazed upon a crimson pyre, Innamorati ferried recollections that the Knave had not pondered in a long time: her first blood, on that fated arena, within the cage of a woman madder than she—the blood of a fallen dreamer, an heir to tragedy.

When Arlecchino does not answer, Innamorati answers for her.

"Well," the Permafrost mutters in a rasp, "I have yet to forfeit my life, stubborn as I am. You do not grieve for the living."

"And yet we grieve, still, for what eludes us in the present."

Their gazes meet—or Arlecchino thinks they do. She feels a knowing shiver at the tilt of Innamorati's head, in her direction, where the fiery moon meets a frigid sun.

We grieve for what we have lost.

And if naught else, yours is the grave whose flowers I shall never allow to wilt.

[see-arcane]

Blood of My Blood - Danse Macabre

(The next grisly step in Blood of My Blood.)

The moon shines on a holy rooftop and a bloodstained street.

The music rises to a grim crescendo.

And a last dance is shared.

Ao3 link is here.

Time turned fickle for him after the first century.

He had not expected that. In truth, it had never occurred to him as he laid the foundation of his planned eternity. Irony distilled: A man chasing immortality without once thinking of how to pass the time. Even in his prime, he had been a child. Conquest was his only prize to chase until, as his men reminded him that they were only flesh, and his enemies smeared together under his hunger, and the sounds of steel and screaming blurred in the mad whirlpool that was his brain warring with itself for control, he had blinked. And suddenly he was a solitary shadow sitting in a ruined castle in the mountains he had blighted into his genius loci. Had a century passed by then? Had two? He had thought to ask one of the servants, only to realize there were none. No one in his retinue. No confidantes.

It was only him. A glutted Thing of power beyond human scale, huddled in its cave and desecrated earth. Alone.

There was no recalling how long or short the time was before he stole the first of his women away. A fair girl, almost as flaxen as—no. He would not think back to that. Forward, old devil, forward. Yes, he had snatched up the First in haste. Desperation. Someone to be a man for rather than the peasants’ monster. Then another. Another. A hoarder of pampered cats. But he had loved what they were, if not the women themselves. His pets. His pretty faces. His musical noise to fill up the castle halls with laughter, even if he was its target. And why not? He had let the malaise catch him. The ennui that even his instructors under the Mountain had warned him of.

Time turned into fumes for him in that period. The only thing that kept him aware of the calendar was playing the role of Count. A nobleman still had his duties to the swatch of country that was his and vice versa. Endless busywork and ever-increasing mountains of paperwork to slap him awake lest the wrong attention be drawn to the Dracula estate. Oh dear, has the old bastard finally croaked? Have his endless chain of lookalike descendants? No, not to worry. Still here. Always here.

Always. Always. Always.

Time rushed. Time crawled. Time turned to snowmelt between the itineraries.

Nights were his allies, at least. Those he could count on to stretch for him in his domain. An hour in Transylvanian darkness was three hours anywhere else. And the days! Oh, what a coward the sun became when his rule claimed the land! Sunrises limped and sunsets sprinted.

Tonight he wondered if time had done the same here. The night stretched and spilled like tar. Yet the notion brought him no comfort.

The night was going on too long. His senses reassured him that sunrise did still exist and it was coming, but for the first time in almost half a millennium of undeath, frustration made him suspect the dawn was purposefully withholding itself. At last the sun was taking its revenge by refusing a reprieve that would force himself and half the players of the night’s farce back into sleep. There would be no more intermissions, no more pauses. Tonight was to be an end or a beginning and nothing else, bar an ever more irritating slew of highs and lows. Every victory in the battle was chased by a fresh needle to the eye.

The woman had flung the sky—his sky!—at him. A stalemate until he struck her down with a fortunate shot. The boy was going to her aid now. Him and the freshly minted nuisance of a bride. But before he could go to congratulate the happy couple?

 Him.

A silver-white blur and a streak of red to mark his eyes. There was not even half a second to dwell on his wonder at the change in this creature. His thrall, his friend, his runaway beloved. Not before the Thing that had been Jonathan Harker was on him like a hound seizing a wolf. Not one of the lordling’s insipid pups, no; those mockeries of breeding were good only for rending rats and rabbits. If Jonathan Harker were any animal, it was a dog bred for hunting whatever beast looked at its sheep or its master.

And was he not that still? Was he not Master of the dog’s Mistress?

He tried to prove as much for an instant with his mind flung out to the woman only to be thwarted. His strike had done too much and her mind was too deep in blackness even to be stirred to his aid, let alone to pull Jonathan’s leash. Being caught in this revelation was what let his friend land the first blow. His Master struck him back. This earned him two strikes more and a startling view of the interior of the man’s mouth as it tried to bite his throat out. He’d never been on the opposite end of the surreal maw his conscripts wore. Sometimes the jaws of a bat, other times a wolf. Jonathan’s seemed to double up in a hideous way, bristling with teeth enough to fill an anglerfish’s mouth.

They grappled and tore, bit and struck, around and around in brute parody of a waltz. There might have been room in him to spit a comment to that effect, but for the boy’s darling wife. Her and her damned—ah, the burn declared otherwise!—blessed pistol. She was what was called a ‘crack-shot’ back on the lordling’s balcony. So many new holes had been made in his head. He had soothed himself to think that he had been starved, aged, distracted, her shots pure luck. It had not even occurred to him to bother with a trance.

Now he was fed back to his prime, she was perched atop the church, and his senses prickled in warning of what she wielded. The damned pistol had been replaced with something worse--a blessed martyr's weapon. He did not doubt that his speed and the girl's hesitance to strike Jonathan would be enough to thwart her aim. Probably. Still, there was no point in extending the risk.

“I’m afraid you must pardon me, my friend. The young lady is due for a meeting with her father-in-law.”

Crack.

Jonathan’s head broke the brick, but the wall had its revenge in a starburst of blood. His friend wobbled, but caught his arm and clamped it into solidity before the mist form could finish. How..? 

“I do not dismiss you,” Jonathan hissed. The whites of his eyes had gone rosy. “You have kept the Reaper waiting too long.” Was there something in the words or the will of his friend that anchored him? It must be so. He wouldn’t have suffered his next few injuries otherwise. It was only when Jonathan made a grab for the kukri that he left himself open.

Crack. Crack. Crack!

More broken bricks. Jonathan lay broken with them, groaning in a pillow of rubble. The white of his hair stained to crimson.

“Do not trouble yourself, my friend. I will tend to the children tonight.”

He was gone like a gust. An aching, bleeding gust, if one too quick for the little would-be markswoman. Nor could she dare to waste such precious ammunition on a gambled shot as he melted into the dark. The waning wedge of the moon was an admirable light on the scene, and aided twice over by the streetlamps. But mortal eyes could only strain so far. Pity.

His form congealed as he rose, the head of a dragon arching up to devour. His laugh turned the young couple's heads. It tickled to see how their faces went white before the sight of him. “My congratulations to you, newlyweds. I must have lost my invitation t—,”

Bang!

There went a holy bullet. And with such true aim! Yet it was a pointless shot, traveling through the cloud of him with no more effect than a pebble flung through fog. Even as it stung upon exit, he laughed again while his daughter-in-law chewed back a curse.

“I had assumed your gilded gnat of a father would have taught you the rules, girl. For shame.”

 As he hoisted himself to further educate on the matter, something drew tight around his ankle. Then pierced it. So quick and so tight that it tore through his Achilles tendon.

He snarled and twisted, glare aimed down, only for a sudden wave of horror to douse his rage. Anger drowned to that strange shuddering fear he had not known until that faraway day in Piccadilly. Back when he had seen the flash of steel and hollow burning eyes as his good friend gave chase to carve him open. Despite the familiarity of the dread, he did not recognize the figure crushing his ankle as Jonathan Harker. So much blood had fallen over the face and the face had so distorted with the rictus of its grin that he thought he was seeing a visitor from his years under the Mountain. Possibly one of his own tutors come to collect its due for the Lessons learned and the bodies piled. Or else something older. Colder.

Death leered up and spoke in his friend’s voice, “No more running. No more hiding in the mist.” The iron hand tightened again, this time cracking bone. Red rivulets painted Jonathan’s knuckles. “Twenty years of feeding cannot be washed away with a few nights’ gluttony. Blood of my blood,” he hissed, his fangs doubling in the open jaws, “your time has come.”

Jonathan tore them from the building’s side in a tangle of limbs and snapping teeth. A tangle that was impossible to be extricated from even when they landed in the churchyard and thrashed back to the street. There was not a half a second to be won without his friend pouncing again, ripping him out of the beginnings of fog form and back into the churning state of physicality. Injure, heal, injure, fight, injure, curse, injure, injure, injure. To his credit, he struck as many blows as his opponent, perhaps more. Each strike was given more venom than the last with his aggravation.

The girl was no doubt following them with the barrel of the gun, waiting for a clear shot in the whirling rush of them to make a new hole in him. An opening that became all the more likely as his friend kept hold, anchoring him to tangibility even as his flesh bruised or split. This, when Jonathan himself suffered damage upon damage, and that with but a scant dose of lifeblood in him. Even undead, his Harkers did so fuss about their meals. Such caution with the mortal chattel left his poor friend depleted. His healing grew slower and slower as his once and future Master beat him back for every blow struck.

And yet there was no shaking him. Jonathan cackled at the fact, sounding like so much shattered crystal. Undeath or lightheadedness had fully chipped through the silence that had once pinned his tongue when the man was called upon for violence. 

“Count, I am hurt!” he chided. “Why do you insist on leaving the floor? Is this not what you wanted? Here we are at last! In England, enjoying our overdue dance. Come, let me have your hand.” Jonathan’s bear trap mouth lunged out and would have torn said hand off by the wrist were his Master a half-second slower.

“Have it then.” His fist flew. Jonathan ducked and reached for— “It is my turn to be stung. I thought this was a gift.” He had to fight for evenness in the words. It was another battle in itself to keep Jonathan’s hand from swinging down with the kukri blade straining for his neck.

“It is! Only you must wear it closer.” Jonathan turned them as they spoke, trying to bare his Master’s back to the enemy. “A new brooch to have at your throat.”

The words turned some flagstone over in his chest and sent a hundred blind and bitter vermin running and biting through his heart. Strength surged. So did the clouds. A curtain was drawn back over the freshly-emerged moon just as the streetlamps doused all along the block. No audience from above to spy now. In the same tide of will, he finally tore the kukri free of his friend's hand. It rang against the street as it was flung aside, metal on stone. Jonathan lost a moment in throwing his attention after it in the new gloom. A moment was all it took.

He seized his friend in both hands and drove him down into the pavement.

Crack!

A heavier sound than what had come from the brick. Jonathan’s eyes rolled blearily in their sockets, but his hold remained steady. One hand gripping, another swiping for his Master’s face.

Crack!

“Stay down.”

Jonathan clung. His blood held, his hand held, he was trying to rise again, to—

Crack!

“Stay down!”

Crack!

“Why do you do this to me?”

Crack!

“Why do you make me do this when we both know how this ends?”

Jonathan sprawled dazedly in the rubble. His hands and his blood still gripped their Master. Scarlet streams ran from pained eyes. An image rose up of that childish night of gluttony inflicted to taunt the woman. His friend slumped, mauled and sluggish, dreaming traitorous thoughts of a flight from the window.

“You think you know…” Jonathan croaked in the present, “…but I see it. Tonight is where it ends. All of it. No victories. No conquest. None of us are yours anymore, Dracula.” His smile was not bitter. It was the tired curl he had seen the last night they had all lived in the castle. Ghoulish and sad and beautiful. It trickled until the lips blazed like red lacquer. “We never will be again.” 

“You are all mine,” his Master insisted back. His own hands tightened on the leaking heap of his friend. “The woman, our boy, you. She may have bled into you, but it is still my gift. Or do you think just because your Mistress sleeps for the moment, that you shall remain free of the leash I shall see her strangle you with? This is only where we start, my friend. We all have eternity before us. And all of it under my will.” It was his turn to smile. He tried to sharpen it, but found it creaked on his face until it was a mere desperate baring of teeth. “Undeath ends in but one way. Over 400 years of attempts and empty prayer have failed to deliver that end to me. You and the children and the thieving Jackal shall do no better. There is a Lesson waiting to be learned in that. A long one. But you will learn it. Or I will cement her in a wall for the next hundred years.”

To his shock, there was no horror on Jonathan’s face. Not even anger. There was only melancholy. His lips quivered, fighting not to part. Then:

“Or we could leave them,” came the whisper. “I was ready to, all those years ago. I think I may even have sold my soul at the time. There’s no telling for certain, but…yes. I think I must have for things to have gone this way. Before I ever became a Judas for my love, I was ready. I am still prepared, if that’s what it takes to free them from us.” One hand on his Master’s arm. The other clutching weakly at his lapel. “We need not chaperone or stain the family any longer. Let us go now. While they do not see.”

Either blood loss or the deeper weakness his friend had been seeding for twenty years almost paralyzed him.

For one starving instant, he caught himself imagining it. He pictured himself snatching Jonathan’s ragged form up in his arms and darting away into the night. His will was still supreme. He could sever the woman’s mind from his own and hide them in some secret corner of the world. If her mind wailed for her beloved to come running like a hound after its whistle, he could silence it. No amount of stolen sorcery could unmake that contract of their condition. Was it not how he planned to puppeteer the world from the beginning?

He could do it.

They could do it.

But no. He could have laughed or screamed as he felt Jonathan’s fingertips trace along his sternum. The claws growing and aligning. Oh, his dear Scheherazade and that magic tongue.

“Come. Hell is waiting for us, balaurul meu.”

Before Jonathan’s hand could drive forward and tear out the ancient heart—the metaphor made flesh—his Master seized the plotting fingers in his own crushing grip.

“No, my friend. No Hell. Only home.”

“Two names for the same place,” Jonathan grated. He was struggling again. Grasping, trying to rise. And still holding his Master solid. The fight would never overbalance in his favor without his fog or his focus. He had to. He had to… “We made a vow, she and I.”

“Jonathan—,”

“We will die before we return to you,” the gore-streaked face spat. “We will die before we let you have our son.”

“Yes. You will.”

CRACK!

Stone and skull fractured against each other. It was one of many sounds he had enjoyed over the centuries: The fragility of the human frame echoing in his ears. This time the noise was a knife in his chest.

Jonathan Harker slept in the crater with his eyes open. A corona of blood grew from his head in a monstrous halo as one hand fell away and the other hung limp in his Master’s fist. In the shattered skull, no thought or life paced. There was only quiet.

With a shudder, he squeezed the cold hand once before laying it aside. His fingers worked gingerly under what was left of his friend’s head, cupping blood, bone, and brain as one might try to save the yolk in a mangled egg. He knew the man was dead when he pressed lip and tongue to the slack mouth and felt no resistance. His last kiss went to the stained brow, cradling the corpse against him with a sigh.

“I am sorry, my friend. No, do not scoff. I mean it. I wanted none of this. We could be home right now. Our diavol safe and strong. Time wearing your compunctions smooth. No matter how long the Lesson, how harsh its teaching, time would win. And some night, this century or the next, happiness would find you. Misery breaks like bone under enough pressure. Joy is in its marrow. Was that why you did it? Why you betrayed me and our bliss to come? Was the thought of happiness in my arms so awful?”

Jonathan did not say.

The silence was answer enough.

He laid the carcass gently in the bed of pavement and swept a curtain of hair from the puckered brow. Even death did not bring serenity to the man’s face. He had watched his friend sleep more than once and had never come upon him without the look of a penitent begging Morpheus in his dreams for mercy or punishment. That such still existed in him as a vampire was as much a pain as a marvel. Undeath itself could not temper the martyrdom in him. It would need extracting like a tooth.

Perhaps. But first he needs a piece added. He left it behind so carelessly.

His thumb traced the bright stone at his throat before fishing out its mate from a vest pocket. The brooch glowed with internal fire under the waning moonlight, eager to return its rightful place. He closed Jonathan’s shirt collar and bowed to set the pin before a thought occurred—

Moonlight moonlight the clouds you lost focus the clouds are open and the street is visible she can—

— too late.

Bang!

A lance of fire shot through his hand. Blistering torture erupted there and made the injuries collected thus far feel like the nipping of insects. It had wounded more than flesh.

In his fist, snapped shut in pain, there was mere crystalline dust. That and a crumpled setting of ornate gold. Nothing more.

What clouds were left bayed anew with thunder as he snapped his head around. He found the lordling’s daughter taking aim again.

No more.

“No more,” he intoned to the air and to the hateful girl with her toy. He did not have it in him to relish the spasm of comprehension as the trance pierced her eyes and wrenched her rebelling brain into an obedient knot. Not even when he ordered her to lift the gun until it was level with her own temple. His son bleated once in horror—

“Lu, no!”

—thinking his Father meant to throw away a bargaining chip so foolishly. So painlessly. No, no. Nothing so easy for her. For any of them. Ah, and it seemed the boy’s cry was enough to rouse the limping mother at last. His will cracked at her like a whip:

Hold him.

A flare of fury from her, then another baffled cry from the boy. Good. Wonderful.

He looked again at his friend. His friend stared blindly at the stars. He paused long enough to slide the eyelids shut.

“Sleep, draga mea. This will be over soon.”

The promise made, he dashed down the street to retrieve the fallen kukri. He turned to mist a moment later and raced off to the climax of the night. Perhaps if he had turned back a final time, he would have reconsidered.

He might have hesitated in his return to the roof. (He did not.)

He might have stopped to examine his friend, the better to be certain he was dead. (Mr. Harker was.)

He might have wondered, just for an instant, if he did not feel Time’s seemingly infinite sand dwindling to its last grains in the hourglass. (If so, he would not admit it.)

But he did not turn and so did not see his friend’s face.

Dead and dismissed from the rest of the night's pending acts, Jonathan Harker was still. With the exception of his head. It had slumped to the side and its eyelids had slipped open. A proper corpse could do no more. If one could interview such a cadaver, he might have admitted that he had nothing to do with it. But something did.

Gravity? The final mindless motions of a dead body? Certainly.

Yet they had acted under a guidance that ensured the body stared in the direction of the church, of the ex-Master, of the eastern horizon made jagged with rooftops. And they had left the glazed eyes open for whatever audience might watch things unfold through the windows of a dead man’s unblinking stare.

If only to be sure that what was left of Jonathan Harker and Itself might witness the end of the dance.

[cardierreh15]

Variants

This is just part one of two! Enjoy ⚡️🐺

***I do not give anyone consent to copy, translate or repost my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Angst , Mild Violence .

Pairings: Logan Howlett (Cavillrine) x Ororo Munroe also known as Storm ⚡️

Description: Ororo wakes up in another universe, she meets someone familiar…

Word Count: 4.8K

Song: Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen (but whatever your favorite version is)

Earth-811, Days of Future Present (my own twist) to Earth-199999

Side Note: Please keep in mind, this is not at all accurate and I am only writing something I thought up. Anything from how she got to this Earth from to her meeting Logan is not canon events.

Side, Side Note: Lyrics are in regular italics. Ororo's thoughts are in Italics Bold and OG Logan's voice is in orange italics.

Part One

Now I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do ya?

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing "Hallelujah”

It was a beautiful day on Earth 199999. Not a cloud to be spotted. The birds chirped and there was even a cool breeze to combat the humid air that the season had brought in on its back. But all of that was about to change.

With the bat of an eye, dark heavy clouds rolled into the view of the sun. Blocking out any rays that were toasting up some skins and feeding flowers. Violent lightning bolts filled the sky and loud thunder shook the ground beneath the feet of man. Rain beat down like rocks and the wind blew so strong, it toppled cars and pulled trees from their roots.

In the middle of that chaos, was a woman who would change the entire timeline of this world. Though, she had no idea where she was or whether she was even alive. But she was what this world needed.

Falling unconscious from the thunderous clouds, she collapsed into the pacific. Engulfed and swallowed up by the merciless deep blue. One would think that was the end of this Storm Goddess. But fate and destiny were willing to bend the rules when it came to fulfilling their name.

Upon her contact, the impact of her landing had not only caused hurricanes but water spouts that could tear up an entire island and record breaking tsunamis. Countless lives had been lost upon her ascend.

Months had passed on by and the world was slowly healing from the detrimental damage that came with Ororo’s hard landing. Reporters and storm researchers tried to get to the bottom of what could’ve caused something like this to happen so simultaneously and without warning. The UN (United Nations) had already started on their own journey trying to get to the bottom of it; if it was mutant related and purposeful. As if they give a damn about that really. On her Earth, the United States were the reason why she was here in the first place.

Ororo was found caught in a fishing net in Vancouver. She was well preserved and oddly enough, still warm to the touch. Yet, still knocked into a deep coma that not even inhaling water could wake her from.

A man, not from this plain, had noticed that she wasn’t exactly human. And if the other fisherman had suspected her of being a mutant, they’d have her shipped off to a lab somewhere in the US after they collected their reward. So, he took her back to his home in Alberta, Canada. Far away from society and where he could be himself.

The stranger would come check on the brown sleeping beauty every once in a while. Everyday in the morning before he went to chop wood to aid her fireplace and then once before sunset. She looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly pin it. She was enigmatic! And the feeling of limerence grew the longer she stayed. The way her white finely twisted dreads lay splayed out beneath her head, her thick white brows and lashes. How the shade appeared to enhance her skin and feminine features. Even in her time of nadir, she took his breath away.

Almost like a forbidden kind of beauty. The one that came with a dark past.

Those days had turned into weeks and finally a month had passed since her arrival at the stranger’s residence.

Ororo’s eyes had flashed open, white as her hair as she inhaled so much air that instantly burned her lungs and choked her out.

Sitting up, she placed her hand over her chest before gripping the linens that she wore. She wheezed as salty tears streamed down her face as she fought to breathe. Her vision blurred, her head felt so heavy and it throbbed with an achy vengeance. The words of her lover repeated in her ears.

I love you, Ororo. You don’t have to come back for me. If you find a perfect world, stay there.

She coached herself to steady her breathing as her snowy eyes had faded into something more human. Brown as the Earth’s soil. Ororo hiccuped as her awareness finally hit her like a ton of bricks. She scanned the bedroom for anything to tell her where she was. Or at least, which part of the Multiverse she had landed in.

Pulling herself from the warmth of the heavy comforters, she felt as if she’d been only asleep for a day. Her limbs and balance worked as they did when she was fleeing from the Sentinels. Though, it came with only a little bit of soreness. That was from the battering of the waves.

She whimpered as she rotated her arm to aid the soreness there. ‘Aah. Where the hell am I?’ The bedroom was a piece of paragonal work. Lots of natural light that was let in by 3 large arched windows and a large skylight window that made stargazing comfortable when night came. 

The furniture was vintage; carved out of mahogany and donned with gold handles and knobs. All of the furniture was dusted clean, the mirror at the vanity didn’t see a speck or smudge. A telltale sign that someone had been in here to visit her quite frequently.

With the bedroom’s cleanliness, came no clues of where she was. Ororo began to rummage and search through the dresser drawers and the nightstand. 

Breathing heavily as she felt herself growing anxious with tears filling her eyes, she felt herself falling apart. 

Don’t come back for me. 

Logan please.

I mean it, thundercloud. If you find a perfect world, stay there. 

‘Ooh! Fuck you, Logan!’ She exclaimed through gritted teeth as tears fell from her eyes. ‘Fuck you! Fuck you!’ She exclaimed as she slammed her fists into the mahogany wood that cracked beneath her strength. 

A loud thunder crack echoed outside, with a bolt hitting right outside her bedroom window.

Tiny bolts of lightning danced around her fists as she brought them up before opening her palms. The tiny bolts flickered before vanishing completely and a tear fell in their place. 

Wiping her snotty nose with her sleeve, she took a deep breath and wiped her tears with her free wrist. How was she going to make it without him?

The sound of 80’s rock and roll brought her out of her misery. The same kind of music they’d listen to together on his motorcycle when times were much simpler. She used to peel the clouds out of the sky or simply push them over the next city so they could go riding. 

The smell of his cigar smoke mended into his brown leather jacket. The way his thick dark hair used to fluff about in the wind and how he used to risk their lives by rubbing her arm when she held him tight.

Good times.

Ororo rushed towards the large wooden door and tugged it open with its golden knob. She was met with fresh air when she rushed outside. The sound of the music was no longer muffled by the thickness of those wooden walls. Yet it did echo and bounce off of trees in the surrounding area.

Quickly making her way down the wooden steps, she founded the calls and howls of the infamous Axel Rose. It didn't take her long to find the host; just a cut around the cabin and she was standing in front of it. Catacorner from it was a makeshift garage. Old broken down cars, motorcycles, and tires lie scattered about.

This looked just like Logan’s garage. A mess and unkept.

She felt as if this was all some kind of fever dream. 

Inclined to meet the person who saved her, Ororo began to journey forward until she came across a mature and very large Fir tree that sported claw marks. She walked towards it as the fast music became a blur in her ears. She ran her finger tips over the marks. 

9 claw marks but in threes. She knew only one person who could pull this off. 

‘Oh my god— JAMES!’ Her heart fluttered like crazy as she sped walked to the garage and pushed the doors open. ‘JAMES!’

There he stood, back turned as he worked on his bike. He wore his classic white wife beater, denim jeans and brown boots. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he squeezed the clutch of his bike. She was sure that he couldn’t hear her over the shouting of Guns N Roses and the purr of his motorcycle, so she reached her hand up towards one of the hanging lamps and shot a lightning bolt at it. 

A gleaming smile curled up on her lips with a twinkle in her eye.

That caught his attention, causing him to stand up straight.

There was a long pause before the individual reached over and turned down the old school radio that sat on the toolbox. 

‘You know it’s been a long time since someone called me that.’

His voice… He didn’t sound like the Logan she knew and loved. Though from this angle, he was the spitting image. Her smile remained. ‘Wh-what do you mean we—‘

The male finally turned around to face her. But the cloud of smoke from the cigar that he puffed on, made him impossible to make out.

She used to hate the smell, now she lived for it. Craved it.

‘You still smoke those-‘

Stepping through the cloud, the individual revealed himself. 

His hair was curly thick, styled up to resemble ears as if he were a puppy. The same way her James used to style his hair. He even sported that very same beard cut with the center of his chin shaved and his jaws furry. 

His eyes were bright blue unlike the original Logan’s, comforting brown.

Her smile faltered as she placed a hand on her stomach and took a step back.

‘Hmm.’ The man grumbled as he reached behind him and scooped up a white dirty hand towel to wipe his hands. He held his lit cigar in his jaw before taking it out with his clean fingers.

Ororo stood there, her eyes wide in shock and confusion. Her mouth opened to ask a question but the words just wouldn’t come out!

‘I didn’t think you’d ever wake up. You seem to be walking well.’

He was the one that saved her.

‘H-‘ she swallowed, ‘How long was I out?’

Tossing the dirty cloth on the toolbox, he placed the cigar back between his lips and inhaled greatly. And when he exhaled, another large cloud of smoke shrouded the garage.

‘Well,’ he grumbled, ‘You’ve been here for about a month. I uh— suspect you have no idea what’s going on… do you?’

A month? There’s no way I have been here for a month! I stepped in that portal yesterday! 

Ororo placed her hand on her neck as she felt her blood pressure begin to spike. Her body began to gently rock side to side as her stomach twisted and turned.

‘Wh-where did you find me a-and where am I?’

‘You’re in Alberta…’

Her eyes grew, ‘CANADA?!’

‘Some fishermen in Vancouver found you sleeping in a net with some salmon.’ 

She brought her fingers up to her temples and began to rub that spot when her head began to throb. 

And right on cue, thunder roared outside. 

Logan looked up at the roof as rain drizzled and created a song atop the metal. Then he looked back at her. She appeared to be fighting a migraine. And the more she fought, the heavier the drizzle became.

Then it clicked.

‘You alright over there? Need some pain meds?’ He mumbled with his cigar in his mouth.

‘Mmph! It’s okay just—.’

‘Uh-huh. Y’know, there’s been some dangerous storms going on. Tsunamis, Hurricanes, typhoons, the whole nine.’

‘Mmm.’ Ororo grimaced at the pain, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she clenched her jaw together. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘I don’t know. But, the storms started about 4 months ago.’ 

I’ve been here for four months?! Oh my god.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick.’ Ororo whimpered as her vision blurred once again from tears. Her chest began to heave and her heart thudded hard in her chest.

‘Oh, whatever you do just—‘

Barf. Clear bubbly flim mixed with yellow bile splattered on the smooth concrete. 

‘Take that… outside. Aw shit.’

The woman collapsed to her hands and knees as he rushed over to her aid. She choked as her insides forced and fought to be on the outside. The taste of the raw acid burned at her esophagus and mouth. The rancid taste only made her gag more. 

‘Hey, it’s okay.’

It’s okay, Storm. If we’re meant to be… we’ll be.

Her eyes turned white with tiny bolts dancing around them, heaving harder as she stared at the disgusting vomit.

‘You have to look away! Look at me!’ 

As soon as Logan snatched up her hands, lightning zapped him to hell. 

Fortunately nothing that’ll kill him, but it stung like shit. ‘Aah!’ He hissed as he snatched his hands away, fanning them painfully. ‘Fuck!’

You’re my strong girl.

Ororo shut her eyes tightly as the heaving turned into a sob. ‘I can’t do this without you…’

The drizzle had turned into a heavy pitter patter. Thunder roared outside, causing the tin can of a garage to rattle. 

Logan’s brows tugged into one as the burning tingling began to fade into his hand. He watched as the woman crumbled into herself. 

This wasn’t tears of fear or confusion. But of mourning and grief. He could practically smell the pain exuding off of her. Logan knew what it felt like to lose someone. To be completely lost in a world that didn’t accept who he was. To be alone. 

Reaching out to her, tiny lightning bolts reached out to embrace his fingertips as if they were familiarized with his energy or aura. 

They didn’t burn him this time, just tiny manageable pinches. He placed his palm on her back and sighed softly.

If we’re meant to be…

His mouth parted to say something, afraid to say the wrong thing. 

Ororo blinked her eyes open before looking over at him. 

He was almost the exact same replica of her James. That same mean scowl that she adored greatly.

‘You’ve got blue eyes.’ She said in a hushed tone as she stared into his eyes.

‘You’re very observant.’ Logan said sarcastically with a small chuckle leaving his lips. ‘What is it that they call you?’

My Stormsy. Hey there, my lil’ thundercloud. Hang on lightning bolt! Stormy. 

‘Oro—‘ she sniffed, ‘Forgive me but, I don’t think you’d be able to say my name, white boy.’ She scoffed.

Logan raised his brow, ‘Oh yeah? Try me.’

She tried to muffle her giggle but it fell through, ‘Ororo.’

His brows rose and he blinked hard once.

‘Oro—OK, do you have a nickname?!’

Ororo’s small smile from her giggle had turned into a charming grin as laughter escaped her, ‘Yeah,’ she sighed softly. He was just like him. From his facial expressions to how effortlessly hilarious he was. She was comfortable near him.

‘Storm. Just call me Storm.’

‘Now that sounds… do-able.’ His smirk curled up into a small smile before he felt a raindrop fall upon his shoulder. They both looked up at the ceiling. Another fell on his forehead.

‘Well, that would explain the weather.’ Then wiped his head free of the water and looked back over at her, then it clicked. He was a terrible host.

Her white eyes began to fade into her brown ones.

Glancing down at the barf, he then glanced back at her, ‘You must be starving.’

‘No, no. It’s OK, I’ve been too much trouble already just—‘

‘No, I insist. You haven’t ate—‘

Wrrrrr. Ororo slapped her hand against her stomach as it sang its hunger song, as if she could shut it up like a finger to a set of lips. She snatched her eyes away from his gaze and shut them in defeat.

‘Mmm. I thought so. Alright, up, up, up.’ He took his large hands and helped her to her feet. ’

Rolling her eyes at his condescending tone, she pushed herself up to her feet with his help.

‘Ya alright?’ He asked as he slowly pulled his hands away.

‘Yeah,’ The electricity vanished once again within her, ‘Thank you.’

‘Mmm,’ his head fell to the side, ‘Don’t mention it. Look, I’m gonna get this cleaned up—‘ 

‘James, please—‘ she paused. 

He looked down at her for a long moment. ‘You’re the only one who can get away with calling me that.’ Turning away from her he walked towards the far corner of the garage. 

Ororo let out a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. Were they all the same in every universe? Hardheaded and guileless. Arguments were always challenging with him. 

‘You don’t have to clean up after me, I'm not some kind of damsel in distress.’

‘Well,’ he scoffed as he picked up a bucket and a mop, ‘You were just kind of sleeping beauty for ‘bouta month. I’d say you’re pretty damn close enough. Oh, and— Aurora… mind easing up on the rain until we get the food here?’ 

Her mouth fell before she stammered over her words. ‘We—I—‘

Wait a minute did he just call me beautiful? Damn, they are just alike. 

And he left her inside of the garage to retrieve water for the bucket.

***

Ororo did not in fact keep the rain in check. Instead, when she went back into the cabin she found herself missing James more and more. But, how could she miss him when he was right outside? 

Oh, she was so confused. Stuck in a whirlwind of emotions. But she had to count her blessings. Who knows what would’ve happened if he didn’t find her. She could’ve been poked and pried at beneath wandering eyes. Chopped up in itsy bitsy pieces and thrown in a particle accelerator to be sold to the highest bidder.

At least that was more humane than the chaos that ensued on her world. 

A knock echoed in her bedroom and the sound of the knob twisting followed.

Ororo was bent over the vanity, checking for any oddities that the portal could’ve left her with. So far, so good. The door creaked open and she turned torso to the side.

‘Hey—whoa—‘

With her voluptuous rump in view, she rested her chin on her fist, ‘Your mama ever taught you to knock? What if I was naked?!’

‘Well for one, I did knock. And my mama, didn’t exactly raise a gentleman if you want me to be honest. Come, I’ve got Chinese.’ 

***

The pair sat in silence as they indulged on their take out. Ororo did her best not to inhale all of it so she ate slowly.

Logan chuckled, ‘That’s cute!’ 

Shit, he was on to her.

‘Mmm? What?’ She grumbled as she placed her hand over her lips so that she wasn’t spitting out food.

‘Oh nothing. It’s just you’re trying so hard not to kill all of your food. Eat! Trust me, you definitely need it more than I do.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She said as she stifled her giggle and took another bite out of her food. 

‘Right.’ He snickered and took a sip of his beer. 

The dining room grew quiet once again, soft thunder filled the silent void between them. Not necessarily on purpose but she was studying him. They were eating sweet n sour pork. 

James hated pork. He hated the smell, the salty-ness, the texture and the tummy ache and headache that it gave him after it all. She remembers having to cave in to buying turkey bacon. 

The things you do for love. The sacrifices you make.

James was also right handed. Everything he did started with his right side and eventually the left would aid it. Not that the left was as strong as the right, but when it came to swinging his claws, it always got the job done.

This Logan was an ambidextrous individual. Using both of his hands to work into his food without looking funny. It was so natural.

‘I can feel you burning a hole in my face.’ He murmured as his bright blue hues remained glued to his plate.

It was then when she finally blinked, ‘sorry you just— you just remind me of someone I—‘ she paused as her head fell into her lap.

Logan’s eyes flickered up at her for a second, reading her like a book. ‘Boyfriend?’

She remained quiet.

‘Yeah, I know that look. Sported it a few times myself. Would you like to talk about it?’

Oh she wouldn’t even know where to begin. Should she start with Mystique mercilessly murdering Senator Robert Kelly? Or how her blood contributed to the industrial process of the Sentinels that killed mutants or threw them into concentration camps? How this Logan sitting in front of her could be one of hundreds and maybe thousands of variants of her dead lover?

That was a lot to take in. He wouldn’t even believe her.

‘I—Honestly, I wouldn't even know where to start.’

‘I’ve got nothing but time.’

You take up all my time, Lightning Bolt. A punishment when I have to leave but a reward when I come back home to you. 

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she let out a gentle breath. ‘I’m —‘ Ororo tried to process it herself. If she hadn’t lived it, it wouldn’t have even made sense to her either. 

‘This is going to sound crazy.’ 

‘Trust me, I’ve seen and heard crazy. There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already heard.’ 

He mustn’t be so sure.

Even that little comment was something James would’ve said. Verbatim. 

‘Alright.’ She sat up straight and let out another breath of air, ‘I’m not from… here.’

Logan sat quietly. She had his full and undivided attention.

‘I’m not from… here.’ She repeated.

‘Oookaaaay, I think I got that the first time.’ He sighed and folded his arms together. ‘What do you mean?’

Damn it was a lot harder to say than she thought. Perhaps she try a different approach. She would talk about… him.

‘My boyfriend… he uh— he was one of a kind. Smart, goofy, sweet… he was everything I dreamed of. He uh— and his brother had it rough. His family was well off… and in most cases the mother and father weren’t around much thus, was raised by their nanny. One night, some man comes into their home and kills their father. It was then when he discovered his powers. He grew—‘ 

Ororo glanced down at Logan’s fist as his fingers tapped against the table cloth. 

‘Claws.’ Her gaze rose to his once again. ‘He stabbed the man in hopes of getting to avenge his father… but it was then revealed to him that the stranger was in fact he and his brother’s biological father.’

Logan stared at her in complete horror. But he remained calm.

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.

‘What then?’ He asked before picking up his beer once again. 

‘He and his big brother ran away. Fought in World War II. Years later he met me at Xavier’s School of Gifted—‘

‘Youngsters.’

‘Youngsters.’ She repeated slowly. 

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head, ‘How do you— How do you know all of that?!’

Swallowing her spit, Ororo pressed her lips together, ‘I know — so much more, Logan.’

‘So what, do you read minds like Charles?!’ His voice was a little bit more stern than before.

‘Ja-Logan, it’s not like that! I—I come from a different timeline!’

His eyes grew in disbelief and he raised his hands, ‘Alright. That’s enough sweet n sour pork for you. Now you’re just talking out of your ass.’ He reached over to grab her container but she grabbed his wrist tightly. It was heavy. Just as she thought.

‘Has it ever occurred to you why or how a complete stranger would know your name?!’ 

‘Maybe you’ve been looking at my mail?!’

‘Your name is James Howlett! You had a brother named Liev, also named as Sabertooth—‘

‘What?!’ He chuckled.

‘You were born 1882! Here in Alberta, Canada.’

‘These are all things you can look up on google sweetheart.’ He said as he gently pulled his fist away.

‘That would make sense if I could use google in my sleep!’ She bit back. She watched as he pulled her styrofoam container away. ‘And I don’t think you added your Adamantium skeleton to the census.’

I did my best, it wasn't much

I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch

I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool ya

And even though it all went wrong

I'll stand before the lord of song

With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah

He stared at her for a moment before swallowing hard.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about? That metal doesn’t even exist.’ He added as he carried off their take out to the kitchen.

Now, she was annoyed. She folded her arms across her chest and slouched back against the wooden chair with her full lips in a slight pout. That was until she realized what he said.

‘Wait—‘ she quickly stood to her feet and walked into the kitchen, ‘I never said anything about Adamantium being metal!’ 

Logan opened the refrigerator to place the containers inside, ‘You didn’t? Well, it sounds like it would be metal. The “Tium” at the end of it adds the razzle dazzle.’ 

Ororo was growing irritated with his banter. So she snatched the refrigerator door handle and slammed it, not caring much if the food was in there properly. Her backside was pressed firmly against the cool stainless steel.

‘Hey!’ He glared at her.

‘You asked me if I wanted to talk about it and I AM—‘

‘I didn’t ask you for a damn biography on my life!’

Her head fell to the side before looking down at his fists. 

‘Show me.’

Logan stepped back, his thick brows tugging into one. ‘Show you what? There’s nothing to show you!’ 

‘I want to see them! Show me!’ 

‘Lady, you’re really losing it right now.’

‘I WANT TO SEE THEM— NOW!’ She exclaimed as her eyes glowed white with lightning and she raised her hand to cast a lightning bolt at his chest. 

The white electricity sent him flying back against the wall, leaving a large cave in, in its place. He fell to his hands and knees as he groaned and howled in pain. White lightning bolts danced and trickled around his torso, arms and neck. ‘GUH—AAUURGH!’ 

She hadn’t realized what she’d done until it was too late. ‘Oh my god! James!’ Ororo rushed over to him but stopped in her tracks when she heard the unsheathing of his blades. 

She blinked away her glowing eyes as he painfully pulled himself up to his feet. Bubbles of saliva dripped from between his teeth. At his sides were those infamous Adamantium claws. They were beautiful. 

She glanced up at him in caution as she began to slowly approach him. 

Logan growled, taking a step back as he breathed heavily through the pain. 

‘James please, I’m sorry! I know all of this sounds crazy ok? You have to believe me.’

‘B-believe y-you?! Hell, I d-don’t even know you!’ He sputtered through the pain.

The words pained her, ‘I-I deserve that. But I know you.’ She finally walked to him and reached out to wrap her small hand around his fist. Logan turned his head away from her.

Maybe there's a God above,

but all I've ever learned from love,

was how to shoot at someone who out drew you.

And its not the cry you hear tonight,

its not somebody who's seen the light.

‘In a different time— you loved me. And looking at you now…’ she placed her hand against his jaw and turned his gaze back towards her, ‘Means that I have a second chance. Think about it, you went all the way to Vancouver … you had no idea I was there but you came there for me.’

Logan stared down at her, his heaving panting began to slowly return to normal.

‘I know that you hate New Age music, I know that your hobbies include choking down cigars and chopping wood. I know that you love riding your bike on sunny days in the mountains! I know that you dreamed of living in a small cabin like this one.’ Her voice cracked as she did her best to fight back her heartbreak. He never got to see the life he deserved.

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

‘I know that you’ve moved far away to keep from hurting others. I was there, Logan.’

Ororo’s words were almost inaudible; being choked up with tears, she stared up into his eyes as she fought hard not to cry again. 

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Sheathing his blades back into the safety of his knuckles, he reached up to grab her fist gently into his large hand. 

‘How much did you love me—him?’

‘Oh James…’ her eyes fluttered as a thick warm tear fell down her cheek. ‘With all of my being…’

Those words ached him a little as if he knew that she did, as if he witnessed her love for him. He’d fallen in love many times. But they never amounted to anything in the end. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Maybe—

If we’re meant to be— we’ll be.

Ororo burst into a gut wrenching sob before Logan brought her into his strong, heavy arms. He rested his cheek atop her head as she soaked his filthy wife beater. 

Hallelujah. 

[floydsglasses]

𝙑𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚-Jake "Hangman" Seresin (A Quiet Place AU)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x AFAB OC/Piper

SUMMARY: The world outside is in ruins, human being's are almost extinct, silence is now the key to survival. A family's seemingly happy existence in a bleak world is shattered by monsters.

Tags: Mention of blood/wounds, post apocalyptic setting, use of ASL, Alien creatures. Established Relationship, Implied Smut, (sorry) A LOT OF Angst, Swearing, Fluff, Parenting, self defense k!lling, child endangerment, men being creepy to a woman, first aid

A/N HOLY SHIT THIS IS LONG! Im telling you guy's that you wont hurt my feeling's if you dont read because I wouldn't

WORD COUNT: 9,103

⏁⏁⏁

THEIR QUIET FARMHOUSE almost seemed untouched from the horror’s of the world outside its fenceline. The both of them had talked about leading a quiet life, staying on farms raising animals and crops. Waking up to the sunshine each day and ending the day with a family meal, and falling asleep to the sound of wildlife. 

She was so sure that their late night talk would never happen. Not with the lives they lead, her working shift’s as a nurse, her hour’s never being consistent. And him almost always being on leave or another country away from her. Did not help when she took the fateful test that two pink lines showed up. 

Before the both of them did everything they could to spend time with their little girl, Piper would take every weekend off for her. Even though she and Jake were not married they would give each other day’s with her. Then day one of the end of normal happened, and they had to now fight to protect their little girl from harm more than ever. 

Today was their weekly supply run. Usually consisted of one of them staying behind and the other heavily armed packing as much as they can. Things were a little different, she had never brought Alice with her on a run, she knew she couldn't hide her from the world forever, they both knew. 

She gently pulls down a can of carrots from the supermarket shelves.  She looked down at the list in her hand, she had already gotten most of what she needed, she was bent on trying to find Alice something soft, and non noise making for her to play. The sound of her crayons scraping the floor catche’s her attention. 

Her lips formed a soft smile. She bent down to a height of five year’s height. Her green eyes look up at her mother. Almost the spitting image of herself with the exception of her father’s eyes and grin. 

“Good Job.” Piper signed to her, she grinned. She had been teaching her simple ASL thing’s when she was three, two years later she knows almost fifty word’s to sign, almost more than her own father. 

She picks up her yellow crayon beginning to fill in the sun she drew in the corner tile. A home drawn with dark blue, in the top a purple cartoon plane with a stick figure with yellow hair. 

“That’s you.” The little girl point’s at the stick figures with her auburn hair fiery orange. She drags her finger to the other corner.

Tapping a purple cartoon plane with a stick figure with yellow hair. “And that’s daddy.” She signed. 

“I love it.” She signed with a smile. She envied how innocent she was in their bleak world, she was always grinning and running around their home. Piper gets to her feet leaving her to her 100 crayola pack. 

It was hard to find activities to preoccupy the five year old, one’s that were silent the least. She still tried to educate her as much as she could, teaching her basic reading and which animal’s were which, one’s she would never see sadly. 

The little girl had been too young to recall the trip to the zoo the two of them had taken. 

She touches her braid, pulling her windbreaker close to herself. The calendar she kept read was the end of February and soon March would be approaching. She furrowed her brow, where the hell is he? She thinks.

She had given him the simple task of collecting anything that seemed edible, and batteries. It was a miracle that they even got a generator, much less a place to hold up. 

Her friend had bought the place and planned to make it a functioning farm; he had let her stay there till everything ‘blew over’, she wished he had been right. 

“Jake?” She signed, she shook her head. He can't even see you signing, she reminds herself.

Her heart dropped to her stomach at the flash of a brown jacket. She held her chest panting as she collected herself. He held his mouth, stifling his chuckle.

“Don't do that.” She scolded him, her eye’s hardened with irritation. He smirked his million dollar smirk. 

“I'm sorry.” He start’s off, his motion’s quick. He’s been learning, she thinks through her annoyance.

“I just like seeing your squirm.” The blonde teased. 

She shook her head, trying to contain her smirk. Even in a world where everything had gone silent, somehow it didn't silence him.  

“I hate when you do that.” She scolded him. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Well I love when you do that.” He says, leaning closer to her face. She sighed, she quietly cleared her throat stepping back. 

“What did you find?” She asks him. He turned around, stealthy removing five can’s from his bag, a bottle of jack daniel’s, a lighter and seasons. 

She furrowed her brow picking up the whiskey. She raised a brow at his shopping choice.

“Really?” She signed. He smirked mischievous, she shook her head, 

“How about this?” He challenged, she furrowed her brow, putting her hand on her hips.  He reached inside of his bag slowly pulling something.

His hand grips a small tanned stuffed animal, its beady black eyes stare at her, its hair frizzy with a mane that rounded its entire head and tail, fake white fang’s sewn into the side of its muzzle. 

Her frown slowly morphed into a warm smile. “This make it better?” Jake ask’s. She leaned her head sideways. 

“Maybe.” Piper signed, he smirked at her. He knew the world was starting to take its toll on her.

Night’s weren't easy, she would wake in cold sweat, panting trying to let out a scream, she knew she couldn't. 

“This keep me from sleeping on the couch?” He wondered, she shrugged her shoulders, stepping forward.

“No bet on that flyboy.” She teased him. He held his chest in dramatic fashion.

“Ouch.” He mouthed, she shook her head wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him closer to her. 

His green eyes studied her as she gazed into his. His hair had grown out in the two years of their new world, before he had it well groomed to meet the standard’s of the Navy, his face no longer clean, his blonde beard now similar to a cowboy of spaghetti western. She couldn't complain though, she liked how he looked. She just wished he would keep up with the hygiene.

“You need a shave.” Piper signed. He scoffed at her signals. “Are you gonna do it for me?” He asks with a smirk.

“Who else would.” She joked. He shook his head pecking the auburn hair girl on the lips, she smiled. The sound of a quiet gagging noise causes the two to pull away from each other. At the end of the isle stood Alice, pointing at her tongue at their physical affection. 

The two adults smiled at each other. She removes her arms from around his neck, walking over to the little girl.

“Are you finished drawing?” She asked her. She nodded her head, with a toothy grin.

“Get your stuff, don't go far okay.” She asked her. She patted her on her polka dotted puffer coat.

Piper looked back at the blonde man, looking down at her feet sadly then at him.

“Pack this all up.” She order’s, he mocks her. 

She rounded up smaller thing’s into her bag. The walk back to their home was going to be a long one, she had made sure to find duct tape for her tom’s. Jake had given her tip’s on how to not attract the creature’s attention. 

The three begin to exit the rundown pharmacy. Piper adjusted her beanie, tucking bit’s of her braid into the edge’s. Jake grunted bending down picking up the five year old little girl, placing her on his hip as they started their long walk back. Strolling past the abandoned building’s of what used to be the surrounding small town near San Diego.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE SCRUBBED AWAY in the water at the dishes, one of her humane chore’s that she used to enjoy most of the time became a dreaded one. To keep thing’s silent in their household, she had to wash them in water in the sink. They did have running water, which they only ran for their shower’s,for their dishe’s they stuck to fetching it from a well five miles from the property. 

She adjusted her ponytail, wiping the sweat from her forehead.  A hand gently set a cup deep into the water, she whipped her head.

“Sorry.” He signed with thin lined smirk.

“It’s okay.” Piper reassured him, she didn't have the energy to be mad. He looked down at the dirty soapy water, she huffed running her green sponge through the lukewarm water. 

“Stop.” He signs. 

She furrowed her brow. “Why?” She asks him. His lip’s formed a thin line. “Because I want to.” He tells her, she raised a brow. 

“I want to help.” He sign’s to her mouthing the words. 

She sighed, handing over the green sponge, he smirked as she leaned on the kitchen island. She looked over to the living room, Alice sat on the floor, playing quietly with her doll’s near a gas lantern that illuminated her area with an orange glow. 

The sun outside had set, the sky filled with dark clouds and the star’s painted the night. Silent, like always, not for the occasional bird chirping, too high for the creature’s to kill, she guessed. He placed the final plate down on the towel. 

He turned around leaning on the sink, She stared off deep in thought. He stands in front of the auburn hair woman.

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

She shakes her head. “No.” Piper admit’s, her shoulders tensed as she leaned off the island.  His brows furrowed. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asked worriedly.  She licked her lip’s crossing her arms. 

“I saw those symbol’s again.” She signed to him, he raised a brow. 

“Where?” Jake asked her, she sighed heavily. 

“Back of the grocery store.” She tells him. She knew there were rumor’s on the radio of a group killing people they deem too loud for the new world. They had gained the nickname ‘The Bandits’, over parts of the town she would see on wall’s initials, SDB, written in dark brown ink or what she thought was ink. 

“They're getting closer to us.” She state’s, his eyes softened at her worry.

“They don't know we are here.” He reassures her, she shakes her head. 

“But what if they do.” She says, her brown eye’s beginning to welt over with tears in the corners. He shakes his head, stepping closer to her, taking her hands. 

“They don't.” He signed with one hand, she gulped looking him in his eyes.

“If they find out we are here–they will do something bad.” Piper admits to him, she looked over into the living room where her daughter sat playing, unaware of their conversation. 

She looks back to him. “What if they try to..hurt her.” She stumbled over her signing. He shook his head. 

“We won't let that happen.”  Jake reasure’s her. 

“Nothing else matters to me more than her.” Piper tells him. Her heart skipped a beat, she could see the fear flash for a moment in his face. 

“If something happened to her, I couldn't live with myself.” She signed. 

“I'm not gonna let them find us.” He swears, his fist balled as he signed to her. “And if they do.” He inhales deeply. 

“They will regret fucking with the wrong family.” The blonde stated. Her frown slowly turned to a soft smile. 

“What?” He signed, she covered her mouth, muffling her soft chuckle. “You sound like your old self, Flyboy.” She wrap’s one arm on his shoulder bringing him into an embrace. He smirks against her shoulder. 

She brings her nose into his black shirt that clung to him. She thought it was strange how the world had to end to bring them closer, more than the day their daughter was born. She had barely seen him when he was in the Navy, he was always busy. 

A loud crash brings them out of their embrace. Jake’s head snapped in the sound’s direction, seeing the flame’s from the gas lamp starting to spread, he quickly ran grabbing the dark blanket, throwing it on top of the fire, patting down extinguishing it.

The young girl looked up at him, her eyes widened as the silence filled the room again. Piper’s heart skipped a beat as it began to race, she didn't dare to move as she anticipated the sound of the inhumane roar’s hell bent on ending their disrupters. Jake slowly gets to his knees, quietly as possible. 

Silence, dead silence. Piper glanced at her daughter, her eye’s widening as she looked to her father.He lightly got to his feet, looking all around at the farmhouse ceiling. His shoulders relaxed,He shook his head turning around. 

BANG!.  

She flinched, her heart dropping to her stomach. He brings his finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. Alice’s breath shake’s as her eye’s darted between her parent’s, her mother stood frozen with her mouth parted, her father slowly making his way to the window. 

He leaned his head close to the cool glass. He looked to the roof, he looked down at the ground.

Cries of a wild dog interrupted the silence, the brown and tan coyote scampered away knocking down trash. The couple let out a breath of relief, Alice ran on her tiptoes to her mother’s side, wrapping her arms around her tightly. 

Her eye’s fell, as she looked down at her as she stroked her strawberry blonde hair. She wanted to whisper in her daughter’s ear that she was okay, that the monster’s were not gonna come back, that she was safe. Speaking was a grace that she had for three years of life, now it was all gone. 

⏁⏁⏁

GENTLY SHE walked down the stairs, the watch on her wrist reading half past ten o’clock. She ran her hand through her hair, messy with wave’s from being in a braid for so long. She clung to the oversized plaid shirt that engulfed her figure, his clothes some of the time made up most of her wardrobe.

She slowly walked to the sliding door’s of the basement bathroom, it somehow being an almost safe room for them to be in, the rushing of the shower water drowning out their voice.

The air smelt of cedarwood filled in nostrils as she stood leaned on the doorway. The steam from the shower still lingering as she watched him apply aftershave. His beard now reduced to a stubble, his hair though remained untouched. He wiped the condensation from the mirror with his fist, her silhouette casted onto the hickory wall’s.

He smirked softly, facing her. A towel wrapped around his neck, only clothes remaining on him being his black sleep shorts. “What are you doing up?” He wonder’s.

She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Couldn't sleep.” She signs to him, he nods his head.

“How is she?” He ask’s, she sighed.

“Fine I think..at least what you could be in this place.” She tells him.

He looked her up and down, she wore a dark gray shirt with US NAVY written in bold font, and striped sleep shorts, paired with his red plaid shirt that she once swore she would return to him. He smiled softly.

“What?” She signed to him, her lip’s forming a thin line and smiled. He runs his fingers across the front of his face in clockwise motion, his fingers and thumb end at his chin. Beautiful, Her face grew beet red.

He shook his head, still smiling. “Nothing.” He says. She nodded her head at his secretiveness, he sighed, opening a draw, pulling out black and blue hair dress scissors. He motion’s them to her.

“I’ll do it.” She tells him. She quietly slid the door behind her shut, closing it with a rag in the way. The auburn hair woman, sit’s behind on the leather bench with her legs. He held up his finger for her to wait.

He leaned over, reaching in pulling the handle for the water, purposely setting it to cold. He sits on the floor with his back to her, leaning back into her. She gently takes her fingers through his hair, finding the dead end’s to cut off.

She carefully snipped off bit’s onto the violet towel.

“You know you could do this yourself.” Piper speak’s up softly, he chuckled.“Why would I do that?" He ask's her.

"You do it so much better.” Jake admit’s, his tone haughty. She rolled her eye’s playfullying as she continued to work away.

“Sure Flyboy.” She teased him, he smiled fondly at his nickname.

“You know you really should manage this hair better.” She joked, he shrugged.

“Don't know if you know darling but the world has ended.” He reminded her, and she shook her head again.

“I don't think these alien asshole’s care how pretty you are.” He joked, she smiled at his cockiness.

She raised a brow. “Did you just call yourself pretty?” Piper jested, he patted her leg making her laugh softly.

“Shut up.” He says, smiling.

She sighed sadly, she continued to trim away at his hair. Memories of the world before had started to wash over her. She longed for the day’s of them together on the beach under the sun, laughing and teasing each other. Or when she had first met him, a bad night in the ER sent her to the Hard Deck, dying for a drink. Next thing she knew, someone had sent a whiskey neat, she looked up from her glass locking eye’s with probably the most handsome she had ever seen, straight from GQ magazine cover. Things stayed that way for awhile before she got the confidence to say ‘Hello’, and the rest is history.

“Are you still taking her tomorrow?” He ask’s her, his tone lacking any loftiness. She sighed as she cut his wet hair.

“I am, she deserves it.” Piper tells him.

“Are you sure?” He ask’s.

“Yes, she needs the chance to be a kid, I remember loving the beach when I was her age.” She recall’s. “We didn't have what she does remember.” He point’s out.

“It doesn't matter, okay, I want her to be happy.” She proclaims. He nod’s his head, he sighed looking down at the floor.

“I know you do, and I want that it’s just.” He stops him mid-sentence. She furrowed her brow, he gulp’s.

“I know you don't care what happens to you.” He continues.

“But I do.” He admit’s, her heart skipped a beat in her chest. His vulnerability came in moment’s of them finally being able to speak with one another. She knew he hated not being able to talk, talking was how he won her over, how they got the sweet little girl who slept soundly upstairs.

“I just want you….I want you both to be safe.” He admit’s somberly. She sighed, reaching her hand down, he raised his hand lacing his finger’s with her’s. The ambience of the running water filling the room.

“You're not gonna lose us.” She whispers in his ear.

"You're not gonna lose me." She promised.

His grip on her hand tightened as he blinked away the tears he knew were fighting to escape. She sighed against the side of his head, the tiredness weighing heavy on her body. If things could stay this way forever she would accept in a heartbeat,peace with him and her daughter.

She inhales deeply as she sits back up, counting to cut at his hair. “When are you y’all leaving?” He asks breaking the ice, she clears her throat.

“Some time after lunch.” Piper tells him. “Beach is about a one hour walk.” She says she takes a handful of the end’s of his hair, trimming around the edge of ear’s.

She had experience cutting her own hair, not being able to afford a salon during college.

“Hope you make it back before it rain’s.” Jake say’s. She furrowed her brow.

“It’s not gonna rain.” Piper state’s, snipping the scissor’s loud,he scoffed. “Yeah it is.” He declares, she shook her head.

“And how do you know this?” Piper wonder’s, he sits up straighter. “I can smell it.” He tells her, she rolls her eyes playfully.

“Don't give me that southern superpower thing.” She joke’s. He rolled his eyes at her teasing.

“You can't smell rain.” She chuckled.

“Yeah I can, tell me a time when I was wrong.” He challenged, and she bit her lip.

“When you were on leave when we first started dating you said it was gonna storm.” Piper recall’s, he smirked.

“And?” His tone condescending. “And it was dry all week.” She state’s, he rolls his eyes.

“No it wasn't.” He says offended. She shrugged his shoulders.

“You want to question me while I have a sharp object in my hand.” She threatened, she clicked the scissor’s close with a snip.

He put his hand’s up in surrender. She smirked at her own victory, she trimmed around the last bit of his long hair, getting it down to a short easy to brush cut.

She runs her finger’s through, getting rid of the extra bit’s she missed.

He moaned softly at the feeling of fingers through his hair. She removed the towel from around his neck shaking out into the trash. She brings her arms wrapping them around his neck and torso.

She ran her cold hand down his chest, he shuddered as goosebumps ran down each part of his body. He held onto her arms leaning his head back against her leg, looking up at her.

Her nails grazed across his skin as she brought her hand to his cheek. She inhaled deeply as she began moving her lips against his.

She felt his eye lashes tickle her chin. Kissing him upside down was not ideal, though she had to admit it was very hot. His fingers caressed her face. She exhaled as he pulled away, his breath peppering her mouth.

He rolled over onto his knees. She barely had time to catch her own breath as his mouth met her's. She closed her eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.

His hand trailed down her waist, thumbing the edge of her shirt. The butterflies in her stomach went crazy as his calloused fingers grazed under her bare skin. She shivered.

He slowly pushed her back to the wall, her leg uncrossing, placing one leg around his waist. He ran his hand up her thigh, his fingers playing with the elastic of her sleep shorts.

She opened her eyes as it clicked in her head. "Jake." She says breathless, pulling away.

He kept his mouth busy as he peppering kisses down neck. She bit her lip stifling the moan that dared to escape her.

"Jake." She speaks up. He finally pulled away looking up at her, his eyes meeting her's.

"What?" He whispered. She sighed looking away at the water that still ran, she would deal with the mess later.

She looked back at him. "The noise." Piper whispers back. He shook his head.

"I can be quick, if you can" He promises, his southern drawl coming out. Her heart skipped a beat, she nodded, both of them continuing what they had started.

⏁⏁⏁

THE MUD SQUISHED under her shoe’s, her grip on Alice's hand not letting up with each step they took. Piper had taken protection with them, a knife that Jake had given her for her birthday last year, carving her initials into the leather of her holster.  And a pistol, she knew there was a chance she wasn't going to use it because of the noise, but she knew with the bandit’s becoming a looming threat she couldnt be too careful. 

Alice sighed bored as they passed more tree’s, they had stuck to the hiking path laid down for them by the park service, nothing entertaining for the five year old to really look at. Talking wasn't an option for them. Piper could hear the cry of bird’s growing louder,the crashing of waves more prevalent as they walked. 

Before the world had ended, she had taken her to the beach plenty of time’s, only she wasn't old enough to remember it all.

Piper had grown up in Vermont, not even close enough to the ocean, she could recall when she first got to the beach, being twenty four and finally finishing nursing school it felt like she could take on anything that she drove straight into the freezing water.

The both of them come to a stop. She smiled softly overlooking the rocky cliff as the ocean wave’s crashed loudly below them. She turned to the strawberry blonde little girl, her jaw agape as she stared out to the shoreline. 

“What do you think?” Piper signs to her daughter, she smiles at her mother.

“It's cool.” She says, nodding her head. She turned her head to the path stairs leading down. She looked back at her.

“Want it to get cooler?” She asked her, she nodded her head, with a flick of her fingers she gestured for her to follow her. 

The wind whipped against her hair, throwing her braid all over. The cloud’s in the sky slowly turned gray as they walked down the cobble step’s. She was happy that the railing had not given way to the elements yet, as she hopped down after the last step, turning around and extending her hand for her daughter to take. 

“Careful.” Piper signed with one hand. The strawberry blonde girl slowly got onto the rocky path. 

The both of them in slow pace getting closer to the water that pulled in and out with a loud roar. She takes her back pack off, setting it on the dry sand, Alice following her lead. She puts her hand in front of daughter. 

“Wait.” Piper speak’s up. Her green eyes widened in fear as she whipped her head all around. She gets on her knees in the sand getting to her daughter’s height, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

She points at the ocean. “This is loud, they don't like it.” She explains to the frightened young girl. 

“You don't have to be afraid, you are safe here.” Piper reassured, her voice soft as she looked her up and down. The wind kissing her cheek, she looked out at the ocean to her mother.

“Let’s get these shoe’s off.” She says, velcroing her neon purple straps, sitting them next to their backpack’s.

She unzips her own jacket tossing it to the side, Alice slid her polka dot jacket off onto her jacket. 

Piper kicked off her tom’s, rolling up her pant leg to her knees. The two of them looked at each, she grinned as she picked her up by her arm’s running through the freezing water that stung at their legs.  She laughed loudly as she spun around with her daughter, her heart pounding with excitement.

“Think fast!” Piper exclaimed as she flung water on her, she squealed, flinging the foam from the wave’s at her. She yelped in surprise at her return fire. 

She looked up at the sky, the spring air cooled her as she extended her arms, taking in the moment of clarity. 

Alice wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, she sighed deeply as she place her hand on her shoulders holding her closely, the wave’s of the ocean pulling in and out around them as they remained in an embrace. 

The two of them did all they could to enjoy their time on the beach. Alice constantly challenged her to a race to the rock’s and back, Piper didn't have to bother with letting her win as the young girl was much faster than she had expected. She went around the sand looking for sea shell’s for the both of them. 

“Would daddy like this one?” Alice wonder’s holding up a gray and blue scallop seashell, she smiled.

“He would love it.” She tells her, she laughed as she stuffed her jean pocket. Piper imagined them filled to the brim. 

The one good day she could give her meant more than anything. She knew that the young girl couldn't have the childhood that either of parents had.

Running around in the grass and hanging out during the summer with friend’s. Staying out past curfew to be scolded, playing on the playground and seeing how high she could climb to see over the city. 

She sat at the edge of the shoreline, using a toothpick she had brought along to draw in the damp sand.

She drug the sharp wood across the top, letting her hand decide the picture she wanted. Alice sat criss crossed quietly digging in the sand.

Piper’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered. She walked over to her backpack, unzipping it. She walked back over, sitting in front of the strawberry blonde girl. 

“I got you something.” She says, she looked up, excitement in her emerald eyes. “What is it?!” She asked curiously with her toothy grin. 

“Close your eyes.” She tells her, her shoulders slumped annoyed.

“Why?!” She groaned. 

“Just do it.” She says. She rolled her eyes as she told her. 

“No peeking.” Piper state’s, she brought her little hands covering her face. She pulling the object out from behind her back, she gently removed her hand’s from her petite face, placing a soft brown toy in the palms. 

“Open.”Her green eyes fluttered, her grin widened as she looked at the fluffy mane of the cuddly stuffed toy.

“For me?” She wondered. 

“Yes, it's your’s.” She confirmed. She squealed in excitement as she held the toy close to herself in embrace. Her heart ached at her joy, she spun around on her heel’s landing on her knees in the sand. 

“Thank you Thank you!” She gushed. She wrapped her arms around her neck, she gasped in surprise, she bring’s a hand to her back holding her closely. Alice’s shoulder’s tensed up as she slumped against her mother.

She pulled away as she thumbed the of the snout of the lion, its beady black eyes staring up at her.

“Ally?” She say’s warmly.She doesn't answer, playing with the wet sand. Her green eyes softened.

“What’s the matter?” Piper asked in concern. 

“I’m sorry.” Alice say’s fiddling with a small sand castle. She furrowed her brow confused. “For what, baby?” She wonder’s. 

“The monster’s found us last night.” Alice admit’s, Piper shook her head, the five year old girl looked down at her bare feet.

“No it's not your fault.” She tells her warmly, she sits her toothpick down. 

“I made a noise..” She stammered as a tear rolled down her cheek. She shook her head. The woman slide’s over the sand, bringing her young girl into an embrace.  

“Alice, it wasn't your fault.” Piper whisper’s into her ear, softly stroking her hair.

“Don't blame yourself for anything like that, not ever.” Her voice was smooth, she pulled away placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulders. 

“This world is a scary place.”She tells the little girl. Her green eyes glistened with tears at the edges. She shakes her head gulping.

“But you are so..so much bigger and braver than it.” She stammered. 

“You are so brave Ally, and you are so strong.” She brings her hand’s to her face, gently cupping her cheek. Her pink little lip’s form a thin line smile, Piper’s used her thumb brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

“We should go.” Piper say’s getting to her feet,the cloud’s above grew darker, puffing up with each end. The sound of rumbling above in the darkness.

“Mommy.” She spoke up.

She turned her head at her, “Someone’s watching us.” she pointed. Her brown eyes widened in fear looking at the ridge.

The shadow of a stranger peeked through the fog that had begun to roll in with the storm above. 

“Alice.” Her voice stern with the five year old, she looked back at her.

“Grab your things, right now.” She ordered, she furrowed. 

“Why? Who is that?” The little girl wonder’s. Her brown eye’s stare down the stranger on the hill.

“No one good.” She answered. She hustled around grabbing her bag’s, pulling her jacket back on. 

Piper didn't waste any time with grabbing her daughter’s hand, her pace in walking faster then her own daughter. She held her hand on the little girl , she knew that anyone who wasn't her boyfriend or was someone she once considered friend was a danger to them. The alien’s were a concern but they weren't what scared her. 

Drop lits began to drizzle onto her coat, the dirt slowly turning into mud with each step they took. She eyed the tree’s on each side, scanning for danger’s each direction. Maybe she was being paranoid, and that she was wrong about the bandit’s. 

Thunder rumbled above them, Alice’s grip on her mother’s finger tightened at the sound. Should have left earlier, she thinks. Alice hated storm’s, Piper found it ironic as the night she was born a typhoon struck the coast of Southern California.

A storm so dangerous that it flooded most of the valley leaving so much debris, and destruction that it was like a wonderland. 

She panted as she continued to speed walk through the pines. Piper used one hand to pull her hood over her head. CLICK.

She stop’s dead in track’s extending her palm in front of her daughter. 

Her brown eyes drifted down to her ankle, a thin line of metal pushed right against her, hooked up to a tree. She didn't dare to move to find out what it was rigged too. She gulped looking down at the strawberry blonde girl at her waist, she shook her head. 

“Don't move.” Piper mouthed, her eye’s fearfully looking at her, nodding at her order’s.

The squishing of mud under feet catches her attention, she looks up seeing two men wearing black clothes and bandanas hiding their faces from them.

They smirked sinisterly at her, eyeing the young woman and the little girl. The blue bandana pulled out a knife from his pocket, shiver’s run down her spine seeing the dried brown on the blade.

Hair’s on her neck stood to attention as she felt the hot breath of another person breathing behind her. She lifted her hand’s up surrender to the stranger’s, the lack of sunlight couldn't help her determine how many were behind her. 

“Which one do you want?” The red bandana sign’s to the blue one, she guessed one of them was the leader of their group.

Red’s eye’s trailed over to the auburn hair woman, looking at her buttoned up henley shirt, the clothing around his mouth moving in a circular motion. 

“I like redheads.” He signs, her blood ran cold at their signing. Her eyes darted to her right, another man with a black bandana stood next to her.

Her chest heaved up and down as her heart began to race. 

She wasn't sure what they would do to her, but to her daughter she could get an awful image. There were no more law’s or legal systems, a perfect world for sick people like these men. 

“Take the big one to the hill.” Blue order’s, red’s brow’s furrowed looking at the little girl next to her.

Red bandana looked Alice up and down, he stepped up to her, getting down to her height. Her green eyes flooded with tears at the strange man. 

His dirty hand took the lion toy out of her hand’s. Piper’s hand shook with rage seeing his dirty nail’s touching the toy hand picked for her daughter from the man she loved. She knew what to do now. 

“This one is mine.” Blue signed, her little face shook frightened. 

Piper stepped forward with a click of the trip wire, a collection of bottle’s tied together collapsed down with a loud clunk, the men’s eyes widened at the sound. Piper growled as she plunged her knife into the jugular of the black bandana. 

“Run!” Piper whispered to Alice, she grunted as her feet kicked up mud running away. The auburn hair woman swung her fist into the face of the blue bandana before she ran alongside her daughter. 

The two of them panting as they jumped over bit’s of twig’s and green’s, sticking to the path they had followed and the one they had created. Piper looked over her shoulder, the shadow’s of the tree’s of people following right not far behind. 

Piper grunted, grabbing Alice’s shoulders, holding her closely in a bridal style.

Alice’s strawberry blonde hair whipped against her face, the rain had started to become less of drizzle and more of a sprinkle. She looked down at her feet, her footprints in the mud clear with each step. 

She duck’s behind a tree, setting her little girl down. She panted with her back against the tree as her mother set her backpack down on the ground. 

“You need to run!” Piper signed frantically. She shook her head. “No!” Alice signed. 

“Stay on the path, find your daddy.” Piper declared. Her green eye’s bore into her dark brown eyes. “No.” She repeated. 

“You have to run, or they will find you.” She orders her, she shakes her little head.  “I can't leave you.” She signed her lip quivering. 

“I cant– “Alice Seresin.” She whispered and interrupted her,  she held her face. She took a deep breath. 

“You are so brave..and sp strong, and I need you to do this.” She whispered. 

Fear flashing over her face. Tears falling from eye, twig’s snap her heart racing faster. She brought her lip’s to her forehead, inhaling her scent. She pulled away admiring her daughter one last time. 

“I love you so much.” Piper’s voice breaking,She pulled away admiring her daughter one last time. She sniffled, taking a deep breath.

“Now..RUN!” She ordered. Her hair whipped in the wind as she darted away from her mother. Piper gulped as her throat tightened. She removes her knife from her holster, huffing as she turned around marching through the tree

⏁⏁⏁

THE MEN STOOD PANTING. Blue bandana stepped forward looking at the three remaining men. He kicked the dirt in anger, pacing back and forth over the cliff that overlooked the beach.

“Where did the big one go?” Red whisper’s. Blue shook his head. “Who gives a fuck!” He signs. The three men flinched at his anger, he throws his cap off his head.

“The little one, get me the little one!” Blue order’s pointing his finger at the red bandana, he nodded his head turning around following the path. The two remaining men looked at their leader, he ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“What are you gonna do with her when you get her?” Yellow bandana wonder’s, he shook his head.

“That’s for me to know.” He tells him.

“What about the big one, are we gonna auction her?” Purple bandana asks. He rolled his eyes at his question.

“Fuck her, she killed one of our own.” Blue say’s, shaking his head.

“She could be more useful than the little one.” Yellow point’s out. Blue grabs him by the neck holding him tightly.

“I dont fucking want her..get me the little one.” He whispers in his ear’s.

A gurgling sound interrupts both men. They snapped their head’s seeing purple grabbing at his throat as blood drenched his coat as he fell to the ground. With a grunt she removed her blade, she stood up looking at both men. Her eyes burned with anger at the blue bandana.

She pointed her knife at him. “You.” She signed.

Yellow eyes the woman, he charged at her, he swung his fist at her. She huffed dodging it, hooking her arm under his, he groaned in pain at the fiery hot pain of the knife plunging into his shoulder blade.

She knee’s his gut shoving him onto the ground. Blue smirked at her, slowly clapping silently at her. She vibrated with anger at his mockery.

“Now what?” he signed.

“You die.” Piper signed. He smirked at her threat, he stepped forward in a challenging manner. “Are you sure about that?” He questioned. She grunted, swinging her blade.

He jumped back, she huffed, swinging her fist in his direction, missing again. She groaned as fiery pain spread across her face, the impact of his punch disorienting her. The rain began to become heavier as the two of them fought.

She grunt’s locking his head in hold, punching him in the gut repeatedly. He grunted in effort pulling at her raincoat, removing it from her entirely. Shegasped as he pulled himself out of her hold, shoving her into the mud. Blue bandana spit’s out blood onto the ground.

“Bitch.” He grumbled, she wiped her nose as the copper taste filled her mouth. She pat’s her holster looking for her knife, her eyes widened as she couldn't feel the ebony handle.

“Shit.” She mouthed. She flip’s onto her feet, she rushed at him tackling him with the full force her body could muster, their body’s slammed onto the cold rock wet rocks.

Piper cough’s holding her rib cage, his grimy hands shoving her face onto the concrete.Anger boiled inside of her at the feeling of his nail’s digging into her cheeks.

“Fucking die already.” He grumbled, the pressure on her back becoming heavier. On the ground a reflection from an object shined her way. She shouts failing her legs in each direction, he exclaimed frustrated.

She reached out her hand for the shiny object, she gasped for air as her rib cage began to feel smaller. Her wet finger’s lace through the handle hole, she pulled it closer to herself. In effort she rolled shoulder’s spinning around.

He cried out in pain, cupping his cheek as blood began to seep out. She stood on her feet looking at the man. She shook herself off as the adrenaline pumped through her body. He yells as he runs at her, she yelps moving out of the way.

Piper turned around only to be met with a blow to the face. Her back smacked the rock’, closer and closer to the edge the both of them dualed, her knife dropped to the ground with a clink as the man got on top of her gripping her wrist.

“You just giving up, sweet thing.” His voice sneered at her, his hand slowly trailing to the button of her henley shirt, he groaned closing his eyes as his dirty fingernails pulled away the clothing separating the piece. She grunted against his weight.

He mumbled as he leaned his head back as he countied to work on the top of her shirt. Thunder cracked above her making her heart skip a beat, she turned her head, her blade laid only an inch away from her. Without hesitation her hand gripped the handle as she brought it to chest.

He gasped loudly, falling back onto the ground. Piper yelped as she crawled onto him, cutting through him with multiple blow’s, each time letting out a yell of rage. He gurgled, coughing up blood onto her face.

An inhuman cry pulled her out of her trance. She snapped her head watching the tree’s pull apart as they got closer. She pushed herself out of the way.

⏁⏁⏁

ALICE PANTED as she kept running along the pathway, her sketcher’s covered in the mud as the rain began to get heavier. The farmhouse laid in plain sight as she got closer to the fence line, only a few more step’s.

Thunder rumbled loudly, she flinched at the sound but countied to run. She had stopped only twice to catch her breath, she couldn't let her mother down, she need to find her father, to safety.

Her strawberry blonde hair bit’s were sticking to her wet cheek’s. She held her hand at her hips as she stopped finally at the white fence. On the porch, her father sat on the swing, the rain pouring as he took in the sound’s.

Her mother’s word’s sound in her head, they don't like loud sounds, water was loud at the beach, maybe it’s loud now.

“Dadd-!” Her voice interrupted as a hand clamped down on her mouth. She struggled against the person that drugged her, her screams muffled as she desperately cried for her father.

“Quiet!” The voice snapped, she grunted elbowing her kidnapper in the gut, she bit into the finger of the stranger hard. He shouted in pain as he let go of her.

“Little brat!” He grumbled.

The man cladded in red is brought to the ground. Alice gasped in surprise as a blonde man held him to the ground, making repeated blows to the face. He turned looking over his shoulder at her.

“Alice, go!” Jake order’s, she nodded her head sprinting away. His green eyes darkened as he held the man by his shirt. Rain poured down on the both of them, soaking his black long sleeve shirt.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He questioned in fury, the man smirked up at him. He shouts as she punches him. “Who are you!?” He demanded once again.

He doesn't answer. Jake growls' shoving his head against the ground. “Where’s my wife?!” He demand’s.

The man gripped the handle of his blade pulling out. Jake gripped the man’s wrist redirecting his aim, he held one hand over his mouth as he stabbed him in the gut. His cries of agony muffled by him.

“Tell me where she is?!” Jake ordered. His teeth turned red as his smirk widened at his violence. His nose scrunched up as he twisted the blade.

“Tell me!” He fumed.He coughed, spitting blood straight up at him.

“Dead..silent..like us like you will be.” He gurgled through his attempts to laugh. Jake shook his head.

“Just you.” He declares. He coughed once more as his breath slowly became a wheeze before he finally exhaled. Jake wiped his face with the back of his hand, throwing off the blood onto the ground.

He got to his feet, he grunted as he ran back to the house. His boot’s heavy on the wood as he got inside the house.

“Daddy!” A small voice exclaimed.

she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, thunder rumbling louder outside. He sighed in relief, getting to his knees wrapping his arms around the little girl.

“Thank god you're okay.” He whispered into her ear, He panted, breathing heavily. Holding her as close to him as he could. Her wet hair draped across his neck, her little face wet from tears and rain.

“Alice.” He speaks up, her breath shake’s as he pulls away, he holds her shoulders gently.

“Are you hurt, did he hurt you?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head.

He brushed back a piece of her wet hair.” Alice.” He say’s softly, her green eye’s meet his.

“Where’s mommy?” He wonder’s. She began to pant looking at the screen door, his heart fell to his stomach. He blinked as the color drained from his face.

“Oh god..oh god.” He pant’s.He gets to his feet, only being stopped by a small hand gripping his.

“Don't go!” She exclaimed. He glanced between his daughter and the door. “Please.” She pleaded.

He inhaled deeply. “I won't.” He promised. He runs a hand through his hair, collecting his thoughts.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jake sniff’s, taking her small hand in his leading her downstairs.

Alice’s expression remained bleak, the once happy five year old who had so much to show the world driven into silence. Not even her father playing with her in the bathtub, making funny noises, brought her out.

Jake didn't want to admit to himself but knew she had experienced something awful.

He pulled her blanket over her, staying next to her as she slowly fell asleep. The storm outside didn't settle down even as she slumped against his chest. Many things were running through his mind, like what had happened when he wasn't with them, why did these bastard’s come for his family, and where is his wife.

He slowly got out of the small twin size bed, placing the purple starry comforter back over her. Sleepy soundly, he walked out of the room quietly shutting the door behind him.

His breath shake’s as he walks down the steps to the living room.

He looked around the farmhouse, the fireplace cracking and popping, the rumble of thunder outside disrupting the coziness of the home. It felt empty, he felt empty, half of his heart was gone. It was his fault, he let her leave when he knew the danger of the world was the monster’s.

Not the monster’s who hunt for sport at just the sound of a twig snapping, the real monster’s who got the sick pleasure of destroying the lives of others.

He bends down on the floorboard, sliding away the board feeling around the cabinet below for the old wood handle. He grunt’s slowfully removing the remington rifle from the space, he opened the barrel to see it was still fully loaded since he found it.

The former pilot stand’s up, in a steady pace outside to the front porch.

Lightning cracks across the sky as the rain continues its rage against the earth. In one hand he held the gun in the other, the Jack Daniel's he was scolded for finding, he sits on the wooden chair.

Staring at the dirt road paved with sand to silence their step’s. Keeping her safe was all he had now, he wasn't gonna let anyone or anything take what he had left. Thunder rumbled across the setting spring sky, his finger on the trigger ready.

A snap of a branch bring’s him out, he stood to attention, cocking the gun. His breathing steady as his heart raced in his ears. His eyes trained on the dark road, a silhouette stumbled his way. Their hair is braided, wet and tangled. He could make out the shadow of a blade in their hand, and in the other a stuffed animal.

They limped closer, the lamp on the wood post illuminating a yellow and orange hue on their face. His green eyes widened in realization, he dropped the gun in a dash towards her.

She gasped in shock at the sudden impact of his embrace. The knife fell from her hand’s, her free one around his neck.

Piper’s chest heaved up and down, shivering from the cold. Salty tear’s mix with the earthy water that fell on them. He whispered in her ear a mixture of apologies.

“You were right.” She breathed out, he furrowed his brow. “Right about what?” He ask’s, his green eyes watered over.

“It rained.” She chuckled weakly, he shook his head, his laugh vibrating against her shoulder. “I hate that.” She admit’s with a small smile.

“You love it.” Jake whispered, she nodded against him.

"Get me inside, please.” Piper pleaded with him. He complied with her order’s, latching his arm’s under her as she went limp in exhaustion.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE SAT on her side of their bed, her damp hair draped over her gray tank top. Her body shivered even with his jacket on her, her shirt had become less of a beige color and more of dirty brown from the blood. 

“This is gonna sting.” He tells her, she wasn't used to being patched up, she usually did the first aid. He dabbed the alcohol soaked rag against her split knuckle. She could feel the multiple bruises growing on her body, and she knew for sure when thing’s cooled down she was more than likely gonna be sick. 

She grit her teeth. “Fuck.” Piper swear’s, the thunderstorm allowed them to talk, she was thankful for once for him to be right about the rain. 

He smirked. “Threw a hell of a punch.” Jake commented, her lips formed a thin line.

She tried not to think about what had happened. 

“Yeah, and got a bruised rib to add to it.” She chuckled weakly, he pulled out a bandage from her first aid bag. His calloused hands maneuvered with the roll, beginning to wrap the cloth around her hand. “I taught you well.” Piper say’s, he smirked.

“I'm a quick learner.” He reminds her, she sighed leaning her head back. 

“I don't doubt that Flyboy.” Her voice raspy, she sniffed. She gazed at his face, dried blood at the edge of nose, and furrowed her brow.

“Are you okay?” She ask’s. 

His green eyes looked up at her. “Are you really asking me that?” Jake wonder’s, her hand caressed his face, warm to the touch. 

“Did they fucking find you?” Piper demand’s from him, he looks down continuing to clean her up. 

“Jake.” She says, he blink’s looking back at her. She reached down, groaning as she pulled out alcohol wipes beginning to dab away the crimson. 

“You shouldn't be doing this for me.” He says. She shook her head. “Too bad, I am.” She says, holding his cheek with one hand. “Piper.” He says, she shook her head. “Doesn't seem broken.” She tells him. 

“Pip-”You should be careful wiping around here though.” She interrupts, he take’s both of his hands, removing her hand’s from his face, looking at her. 

“Please stop.” He pleaded with her, she exhaled in exhaustion. “I’m sorry.” Piper whisper’s, she leaned her forehead against. 

“God, I'm so tired.” She breathed out. She inhaled his scent as she hugged him.  “It’s okay.” He whispers as he wraps his arm around her as she closes her eye’s, her head slumped against his shoulder. Her skin was cold and damp as he lowered her back into their bed. He holds her close to him, not letting her go. The storm outside begins to die down becoming a drizzle, he leaned over her body, turning off the gas lamp that lit the entire room. 

A/N: HOLY..I Have no word's how did I pull this off this week.

NO PRESSURE Tagged: @cowboysandpilots @bobfloydssunnies @sugarcoated-lame @sorchathered @fairyheart @senawashere @swiftsgirlfriend @nouis-bum @pinkdaisies9285 @mamachasesmayhem @senawashere @cottagecori

[bump-inthe-night]

Vaggie has been an exterminator for years...

With countless kills...

And somehow the moment she changes is when she's about to kill some random child? (Minus the fact that she chased this kid for a good minute; didn't seem that sympathetic towards em when they were crying and running away from ya V.)

Why not have it where she witnesses some Exterminators deliberately torturing a sinner for fun instead of killing them to get it over with, resulting in her snapping and killing said Exterminators in order to help the sinner?

THEN have Lute see this and result in her being stripped of her wings? Ffs, have it where Lute is about to kill her but chooses NOT to (like Vaggie is allegedly the best of the best, so it'd make sense that Lute would've worked or trained alongside her; aka 'The only reason you're not dead is because I still have some sliver of respect for my comrade.')

And don't have fucking Charlie just INSTANTLY forgive Vaggie. Ffs, the woman WILLINGLY participated in slaughtering thousands of human souls and didn't tell you; that's not something that should be used as a damn b-plot.

Oh wait, I forgot. THIS would require Viv to actually have common sense and an ability to write things BESIDES sex jokes along with not having your characters say 'fuck' every .5 seconds, which is something she's obviously not mature enough to do.

There's also the fact that it would require Vivziepop to have a genuine interest in Vaggie, which, just like her other female characters, she doesn't. There's different ways that she could've gone about Vaggie being a former exterminator that are far better than her feeling sympathetic after slaughtering sinners for YEARS just because she encountered a demon child, and apparently she somehow hasn't before.

Vaggie was the best exterminator, yet she somehow avoided killing any children during this time. If, like you said, you witnessed how cruel other exorcists were being to sinners, then that would've worked, or if this was her first extermination and she encountered a child, making her realize how inhumane the genocide is, then this also would've worked. Almost anything is better than Vaggie just realizing years later that she was aiding in genocide because of one kid.

Charlie shouldn't have forgiven her girlfriend so easily because she killed thousands of her citizens. She had every right to be upset with Vaggie and no longer trust her because how can you trust someone when they've spent 3 years lying to you about who they are? This conflict should've lasted longer than an episode, but since Vivziepop doesn't know how to pace her story, she rushed to the conclusion.

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Calistria: The Menotherian

CR 15

Chaotic Neutral Large Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 280

Calistria's greatest agent and one of her most potent assassins, the Menotherian is almost always on one mission or errand or another in the Material Plane, and is noted to be "completely bereft of morals," a terrifying sentence when used to describe a normal human being, let alone when describing a 14ft-long parasitic wasp with incredible intelligence, immense wisdom, and superhuman charisma. There is no creature the Menotherian would not trick, seduce, or outright murder at her goddess' command (including Calistrians), and the trail of bodies and ruined lives she leaves in the wake of her missions are awe-inspiring even for the likes of Norgorber's career killers (which is why the two gods get along so well). Far from a direct warrior like any of the Heralds we've seen so far this month, the Menotherian is a spy and assassin of almost unrivaled proficiency, not only having raw skill to spare, but a myriad of magic and resources at her disposal which assures there are few targets truly beyond her reach, no matter how protected they believe themselves.

About the only "mercy" one can expect in regards to this vicious vespidae is that she is explicitly a tool of vengeance and is only ever loosed in retaliation to harm being done to Calistria and/or her faithful... but this is a cold comfort to anyone in the line between Point A (where the Menotherian first arrives on the plane) and Point B (the objective marker), because unlucky souls in that path are free game for her to exploit and ensorcel in whatever manner she believes will get her to her goal. While she won't go out of her way to cause any undue death and destruction (if only out of pragmatism), you can safely bet that anyone who holds any ability, information, or resource which would get her closer to her goal will have her talons (literal or metaphorical) dug into them (literally or metaphorically) before they even realize she's in the room.

It all starts with a strangely alluring elf walking through the door, an elf with a curious air about them which makes people trust them for a reason they can't quite place...

The Menotherian's first and most dangerous tool is her deceptive Alluring Scent, a toxin that lowers inhibitions and makes even the most jaded loners open up. The scent works no matter what form the wasp woman is in, wafting 30ft out from her in every direction and forcing anyone who catches a whiff of it to make a DC 25 Fortitude save or have their mood towards the big bug adjust one step closer to friendly. Not only is there no 24 hour immunity clause on this ability, it stacks with itself; anyone who remains in the aura or who exits and re-enters must make the save once per minute to avoid having their attitudes adjusted another step towards friendly, allowing the Menotherian to gradually control the moods of anyone she lingers near until they're head-over-heels for her.

She doesn't even have to speak, just be closeby and let her aroma do all the work! But if she's in a hurry, she's got Suggestion 5/day to either command someone to keep close enough for her scent to take hold of their minds, or to advance her own agenda with little difficulty. You'd think she'd have Charm Person at her disposal, but between her Alluring Scent and her +23 to all three of the main Face skills, she's practically got it built in whenever she speaks. Her Suggestion is actually the ONLY direct manipulative spell she has, with the rest of her magic either aiding in direct subtlety, her spy efforts, or in combat.

She's able to passably masquerade as a cleric, even of another faith if she must, able to use Cure Moderate Wounds and Remove Disease 5/day, along with Neutralize Poison and Dispel Magic both at will. While most of these spells DO have use for her (though she's immune to both disease and poison), they're MUCH more useful in securing favors from others, exchanging cures for what ails someone for information or some form of assistance. If there are no problems, she can easily make some, because spell-likes have no components and thus no one can easily spot she's the one suddenly responsible for an Summon Swarm erupting from nearby, or a heavy object suddenly falling onto someone (via Telekinesis), or if a sudden sting from an unusual wasp causes some incredible muscular pain that only this gorgeous knockout of an elf that came from nowhere can help with...

Crushing Despair may not seem like a social spell, but if you and your buddies are suddenly feeling sad enough to, say, have a -2 penalty to all your saves, and then this GORGEOUS knockout of an elf comes walking in promising to make you feel better (by dispelling it), well... It becomes much more difficult to ignore her requests, even when they begin getting less innocuous and more pointed, more determined. And if you resist, you may find yourself under her Suggestion spell and forced to, or worse: outright Mind Controlled.

This dangerous ability is one of her most potent tools available but also one of her most overt, as to use it, she must... well, the book says "inject her scent" into the brain of a willing or helpless creature, but there's no mention of how or via which orifice, so for the sake of your sanity and mine I choose to believe it's a deep, almost uncomfortably lengthy kiss. Since a target can be willing OR helpless, she can use it on targets she's knocked out with some form of damage, victims she's taken hold of with her allure or her magic, or creatures she's had bound by minions she's already gotten under her thrall. A DC 25 Fortitude save resists this overt control, but there's no stated limit to the number of times she can do it, so a victim may just be smooched until their brain melts away and they become her servant for the day.

Once the chemical cocktail takes hold, victims are Dominated for 24 entire hours, forced to follow the wasp's verbal commands as perfectly as they can. Though this effect is potent, it does require her to be nearby... unless she gives a thorough instruction beforehand, sending her new wind-up soldier off and out of sight. Since she's able to do this to as many helpless or willing targets as she can gain access to, and victims become more willing the longer they're around her... well, things just look worse and worse for whatever her objective is.

Honestly, to any party trying to combat her, the most frustrating bit may be trying to get through her enthralled minions and avoiding becoming said minions in the first place. If a battle breaks out between her pawns and the party, she can Teleport 5/day and Dimension Door at-will besides (both of which are good for infiltration missions but great as escape tools), likely leaving parties frustrated until they can Dimensional Lock her down and force her into battle.

At which point, y'know, now they have to deal with a gigantic wasp. A wasp likely surrounded by more wasps via Summon Swarm or Insect Plague. So uh, RIP to the entomophobic party members?

The Menotherian's full combat form is basically exactly what you'd expect, with the surprising exception of her lacking both Flyby Attack or a reasonable fly speed, as she CAN fly 50ft a round, but only poorly. This is a ground-bound wasp, and she's got to get uncomfortably close to her victims to actually harm them, because despite being a Large creature she possesses only 5ft of reach. This is somewhat mitigated by her Step Up feat letting her follow people trying to get away, but getting out of her reach still cuts her offense down considerably. She's got a CCB (1d6+9 and 1d8+9), but you may correctly surmise that her most dangerous attack is the stinger the length of a man's arm, which deals 2d8+9 damage and injects victims with a poison that deals 1d3 Dex damage a round for up to 6 rounds. Hey, you know what happens when you run out of Dexterity? Helplessness! And thus you become open to Mind Control.

Yes, having control over someone at 0 Dex doesn't seem useful, but such a victim can still speak and tell the Menotherian everything she wants to know. An especially useful target can also receive her 1/day Heal, regaining 140 HP and clearing off a lengthy list of debuffs, including ability score damage. Though she's more likely to save it for herself, having no Fast Healing and being terribly vulnerable to any status ailment that can sneak past her 26 SR, holding a Heal over someone suffering from any (or multiple) status ailments the spell automatically cures is some pretty extreme leverage.

And speaking of leverage, how does "stand down or your ally dies a horrifying death" sound? Because for special occasions when subtlety is no longer possible and maximum chaos is required, the Menotherian can Implant a cluster of horrifically swift-hatching eggs into the body of any creature she strikes with her sting once per day. A DC 25 Fortitude save is all that stands between that victim and outright death, because once implanted, victims are nauseated for 2d4 rounds, rendered basically useless as the eggs sap their strength. Once those rounds pass, the eggs hatch and the victim dies outright as a Chaotic Neutral Hellwasp Swarm emerges from the clutch and infests the victim's corpse, turning it into a puppet for the Menotherian. This gruesome death sentence is her preferred execution method, but if her life is in enough danger, she'll use it as an emergency negotiation tool; once a victim is Implanted with the egg clutch, only swift and bloody surgery (a DC 30 Heal check) or a disease-curing spell will destroy the eggs... and guess what this massive wasp just so happens to have access to? Five or six times a day, even? Best choose your next few actions and words very carefully.

The new Hellwasps aren't temporary, either. Not only will they join in the current fight to add yet another source of Dexterity damage (and another danger when hitting 0 Dex), but the swarm will continue to exist long after the Menotherian moves on to other prey, potentially making life worse for everyone in the area until a party arrives with one of these on their belt. No, it won't work on the big bug herself; she's immune to poison, remember? You're going to need a really, really big swatter... preferably, one that can pierce her DR 15/Lawful.

As both a side note and a closing note, I find it amusing that she has a minor 10 points of Resistance to Fire and Electricity, which becomes outright snicker-inducing when you consider her immunity to poison and at-will Dimension Door. You are NOT getting rid of this wasp with Raid, aerosol flamethrowers, bug zappers, OR paper+cups!

You can read more about her here.

[bouncybongfairy]

The Connection Of Water

Percy Jackson x Water Nymph Reader

Summary: After finding your way to camp half blood, you end up befriending a blue-eyed boy who can't keep away from the water. You end up taking a late night swim with Percy.

Word Count: 3k+

Part 2 is now posted! <3

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were running through the thick brush of the woods, now and then feeling a sharp branch scrap against your skin. You keep looking behind you, seeing if the minotaur was still chasing you. You were regretting following the glowing dove that appeared to you in the early morning. Hot tears were streaming down your face. You could feel your stamina declining, your legs were getting heavier with every step. You wanted to scream because of the cramping in your body and the terror in your heart. You kept yourself from doing so, not wanting to lure the monster right into you. You really panicked when the dove was losing its glow. You were not only feeling scared for your safety but saddened that this beautiful dove leading you was withering away with no purpose. As you were running, you saw torches glowing a vibrant yellow and red. You follow them, hoping to run into someone who could aid you. You eventually stopped looking behind you because every time you did, you almost tripped. You could hear the minotaur roaring somewhere behind you. This was motivating you to keep going. 

You finally see a wooden sign that was written in Greek letters. You were so scared that you didn't bother looking at what the sign said. You just wanted to get away from the monster that was hot on your heels. There were people in armor who seemed to be surprised that you made it through the gate. You turned around and fell on your bottom, watching as this monster came closer. You tried to scurry away, but the armored people were reassuring you. They helped you into a white tent. This is when your eyes become too heavy to keep open anymore. 

You woke up to the sun shining directly onto your face; you hold your hand up to block it. That's when you noticed white bandages covering the scraps from evading the minotaur. You sat up and looked around to get a better view of your surroundings. Cots lined up against the walls. Some people were laying down in more critical condition while others were just getting quick treatment. You threw your legs over the bed, but before you could stand up, a woman came up to you. 

"Hold on dear, are you feeling dizzy or hungry at all?" she asked, placing her cold hand on your forehead to check your temperature. You shook your head no and let your hands rest in your lap. 

"Do you remember how you arrived?" she asked. 

"I was home, a glowing dove appeared before me. I followed it south until a minotaur chased me. I don't remember how I got.. here though," you said referring to the building you're in, she looked at you raising her eyebrows; almost as if she was confused.

"You don't think you're mortal?" she asked which caused you to crank your neck up at her; you must have looked as confused as she was. 

"I know i'm not mortal I'm a naiad," her eyes widened and she excused herself. At this point all you wanted to do was go home. You missed your sisters and were feeling extremely regretful that you followed the dove. The women came back shortly after being followed by a centaur. 

"Hello little one, my name is Chiron. You must be extremely confused, let's take a walk and allow me to make it all clear," he said. You didn't respond but got up and followed. 

"This is Camp Half Blood where we protect and train the offspring  of half human half mortal young adults. The reason the dove appeared to you was to lead you here. The dove is a symbol of Aphrodite, we have lots of her half blood kins here you are not the first. However these half bloods are half mortal, you are the first naiad we've had here. This is certainly not a bad thing, please don't feel out of place due to that aspect. I just wanted to clear that up and show you around a bit," he said resting his hand on your shoulder as you walked. 

"I can never leave here?" you asked which made him laugh.

"Yes of course, we can't keep you here against your will and students can go home to visit family. However we teach you a great deal of combat and other skills that will help you navigate the world safely as a half blood. Not only that, you get to be surrounded by those who understand exactly what you've been through and the struggles." he said. 

"Is there a lake nearby? I have been out of water for a while, I don't mean to-"

"You don't have to apologize, it's always overwhelming for new campers when they are debriefed. The Canoe Lake is only a 10 minute walk down this path. If you need anything just ask," he said walking away. 

You were happy that he took the hint about you wanting to be alone. It wasn't like it was as big of a bomb as it would have been for a mortal. You knew of the Greek world and of the existence of gods, your dad was a full blooded naiad. The half blooded aphrodite was what really threw you for a loop. Everyone you walked past on the trail was staring like you had two heads and three arms. It didn't matter to you as much as wanting to be in the water did. You could feel your skin becoming tight because of the lack of moisture. Once you saw the rays of light reflecting off the surface of the lake, you smiled and let out a sigh. You strip off your tee shirt and shorts and walk into the lake. The feeling of relief was like pure joy, feeling the soft earth beneath your feet. You dove underneath the water and let the water carry your body for a couple moments. You find them slowly growing and expanding once they are fully submerged. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark water as you went deeper and deeper. 

You swam around for a while, finding lost items like bead bracelets or glasses. There were fish that came right up to your face, oblivious to your being there. Then they would swim away for their lives once they noticed you there. This would make you laugh, a few bubbles escaping your mouth. You got a taste of what the fish were feeling when you felt a literal tap on the shoulder. You whipped around and were greeted by another naiad, she signed for you to follow her which you did. After swimming alongside with her for about 5 minutes you reach a rather large rock. You follow her to the surface and see that there are several other water nymphs sitting on this rock. You joined them at the top where you were greeted by several voices. 

"Hello, so I hear you are the newest naiad to camp half-blood. Is this true?" the girl who led you here asked. 

"Word travels fast. Well I thought I was just naiad but the centaur Chiron told me that I'm actually half god half naiad," there was a long pause before the next girl spoke,

"What god?" she asked. 

"Aphrodite," you said, ringing some of the water out of your hair. 

"Wow, another blonde bimbo to add to the barbie house," she said, causing a couple other girls to laugh. 

"Do you live there? Chiron didn't say anything about overcrowding," you asked, which caused the girl's smile to slowly fade from her face. You looked around and noticed there was a couple of girls snickering, 

"Only the kin of Aphrodite stay in the cabin, Naylene is just a water nymph," one of the more quiet girls explained. 

"I'm sorry I didn't mean any-'' you began to apologize if you came off wrong but it seemed that Naylene's ego had already been bruised. 

"Well good luck making friends, I mean we all know the reputation you bimbos get around the camp," she said, diving in the water, being followed by a couple other girls. This left you sitting on the rock with one other girl. 

"Don't worry about her, she gets so jealous when new girls, especially from your mom, come to camp. She's always been like that, don't take it to heart." She said to you, 

"Yeah I guess, I'm Y|N by the way," you said formally introducing yourself. 

"I'm Madison," she said, holding out her hand to shake which you did, "It's starting to get dark which means supper is going to start soon. You can come with me if you'd like," she offered. 

"No I appreciate you but I've been out of the water for a while, I just need to soak for a little longer," you said. 

"Okay, if you see me at supper or just.. around don't be a stranger," she said as she grabbed her towel and left the lake. 

You sat on the rock for a while admiring the sunset, it was a striking purple and pink color. The water was beginning to get colder and the breeze picked up a bit more. A few tears escaped your eyes when you thought about your sisters and your father that were at home. You wiped them away and practiced a bit of mindfulness. Many kids don't get to experience the beauty of nature in a place like this. As you were talking in your surroundings you noticed a dock attached to a cabin on the lake. You dive into the water and swim over to the wooden platform that was floating above the water. Once you got there you hoisted yourself onto the dock and looked out at the water. From this angle it gave the illusion that the lake went on for miles and miles. The dock was facing west, which meant the sun set directly in front of it. You began to ring your hair out again so the cold water wasn't dripping onto your back. As you were admiring the water, you heard something fall behind you. When you whipped around and saw a dark haired boy staring at you. You immediately stand up and apologize for intruding, 

"I'm so sorry I assumed because of the dock that it was just- I'm really sorry for intruding," you said. 

"It's okay I um- the naiads come up all the time," he said picking up the pen he dropped. 

"Sorry I'll go, I'm late for supper anyway," you said, going to walk past him but were interrupted. 

"You're going to the dinning hall like that?" he asked, you looked down and became painfully aware of just how unclothed you were. Only wearing a cropped shirt and boy shorts, that were still wet.

"I left my bag at the lake side where I jumped in. I was just gonna grab my stuff and change before heading down," you said, he walked over to the dresser and grabbed a bright orange tee shirt that said camp half-blood. Underneath the white lettering was big, sloppy black writing that said 'Jackson'. He then handed you a pair of black basketball shorts. 

"My mom got those for me last summer so they should be small enough for you," he said playing with his fingers before continuing, "I can take you to the dining hall and to pick up your bag on the way, if you get lost you won't make it in time," he said. 

"Oh thank you," you said, waiting a couple seconds for him to turn around so you could change. He didn't so you ended up having to ask which he did. Once you got dressed you thanked him again for his hospitality. 

"I'm Y|N," you said. 

"I'm Percy," he said. 

The walk was really nice, he was telling about about what time meals were. What the different symbols on the cabin meant, even some of the social constructs that had been created in the camp. When you told him about how passive aggressive the other water nymphs were he said he wasn't surprised. He explained that a lot of the girls here get caught up in the social competition of being a teenager. You explained to him how you got here and you both laughed when you realized you had the same experience of being chased by a minotaur. You picked up your bag as you followed the trail and the smell of food. He told you that he was the only half blood in the entire camp which surprised you. It was equally surprising when you told him you weren't half mortal.

"No wonder Naylene hates you, she's intimidated by you." he said in a matter of fact tone.  

Once you both walked into the dining area all the eyes were on you both. Percy whispered that the only reason they were staring is because we don't get new campers all the time. This made you feel better until you saw Naylene who was staring you down with a scowl on her face. You followed Percy to grab your tray. He then took you to the firepit where he explained the custom of giving the best thing on your plate as an offering to the God's. You even met two of his friends Grover and Annabeth who were extremely welcoming. It really turned your entire day around. They warned you about people to steer clear of like Clarise, which you were grateful for. Annabeth even showed you the Aphrodite cabin which was.. overwhelming to say the least. It reminded you of a sorority, so much hair and the smell of perfume was super invasive in your nose. They showed you where your bed was and surprisingly were all very nice. You thanked them for being so welcoming to which one of the older girls responded, 

"Pretty girls are always kind," she said. 

You were happy that bitchy campers were the only thing that was bad about this place. The older girls in the cabin were helping the younger girls get ready. Brushing their teeth and braiding their hair. Cleaning up, sweeping the floors or getting their beds ready to sleep. You were getting a lot of compliments which were giving you a permanent grin. You were getting comfortable in bed, reading a book when someone tapped you on the shoulders. 

"There's someone here to see you," one of the girls said. You were confused but set your book down and went to see who it was. It was Percy, he was carrying a plastic bag that contained your wet clothes from earlier. 

"You're up late, thank you," you said, grabbing the bag from him. 

"Yeah I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd bring that back," he said. 

"Yeah I can't sleep either, I was thinking about going for a swim later to help," you said. 

"Can I come?" he asked, which really surprised you. 

"Yeah, give me like five minutes," you said, going back to your bed to put away the plastic bag. You went up to one of the older girls and asked if you could borrow a bathing suit top which she gladly handed over. 

You changed and made your way back outside. You walked together to his cabin, that was the first time you had seen it a night and it was beautiful. There were slight gaps in between the logs that made up the wall, which made it look as though it was bursting with light. The inside was even more impressive, there was Greek artwork painted on the walls. A big California king bed, right above the headboard was a painting of the famous statue of Perseus holding the severed head of Medusa. Other more modern things sat on his desk like comic books and a laptop. You didn't say much before getting into the water. Due to your dehydration, your tail didn't come out when you were in the water before but after about 10 minutes in the water you were in full naiad form. Percy was sitting at the bottom of the lake and you were swimming slow circles around him. 

You obviously couldn't speak with each other but the look in each others eyes didn't need words. You grabbed his hands and started swimming, with your tail you could swim incredibly fast. You looked over at him and his lips were being parted because of how fast you were going which caused you to stop and laugh. He laughed as well and motioned for you to pay attention. He then started to control the currents slightly so that he could maintain the same speed when swimming around. You would point out different fish to each other or plants that you thought looked cool. After a while you just sat next to each other, enjoying each other's company. He got up and loved the sludge on the ground and pulled out a necklace. He held onto the back of the necklace and used a current and got all the mud off. It was a beautiful necklace. The charm was two acrylic rose charms that were ombre from dark violet to light. In the center of both roses was a pearl. He swam behind you and attached it to your neck, you smiled and blew him a bubble kiss. Bubbles burst out of his mouth from how hard he laughed. 

You both resurface and sit on the dock with each other. Percy looks over and notices that your teeth are chattering. He gets up and grabs a towel from his room and drabs it over your shoulders. 

"Thank you," you said as he sat back next to you.

"It's not a big deal, you know I've never hung out like that with anyone in the water like that," he said looking over at you. He had hair hanging on his forehead, almost covering his eyes. 

"Kinda helps when you're with someone who can also breathe water," you chuckled. 

"No, even with Naylene and them I never will hang out with them in the water like that," he said. 

You looked over at him and noticed he was still looking. His eyes were so blue they almost looked like they were glowing. You lean over and give him a peck on the lips. Although it wasn't a long passionate kiss, it didn't take away from the romantic aspect of the moment. He smiled and blushed a deep red before getting up and helping you stand

"I'll walk you home," he said before returning the peck back to your lips.

[captain-laserhawk-content]

🪡 Stitches

— “Patching each other up after a tough mission”

Word count: 836

Through bated breaths and with the scent of bloodied sweat permeating in the air, Bullfrog, with his tattered clothes and blacked eye stumbles over to where you lay. Beaten and looking as rough as he does, the two of you share a knowing glance of reassurance before letting out tiny laughters as he joins to sit beside you, together in each other’s company to distract from the injuries caused by Alex Taylor’s three mercenaries.

“That sure was a tough one!”

Bullfrog croaks as he rests a head on your shoulder. You smile, eyes rolling to the ceiling as you process what you two had done.

“You know… I was worried for you…”

“Worried? Oh, Mon Ami, fret not! Afterall, I am an assassin, am I not?”

“I know that! But… there is still the possibility that you can die in one of these missions, Bullfrog…”

“...”

“...”

“I know, Mon Ami… But I guess that’s why you’re here!”

“Pfft! Oh, so I can save your ass every time you’re close to dying?”

The two of you burst out laughing, wincing a little in the process, until fading back to silence with the lack of the hum from the antenna present.

“Hmm… pretty quiet now that we got the antenna destroyed…”

“Yeah…”

“...We should probably get patched up,” you say as you sit up and pull out a small first aid kit from your tactical gear, “here, gimme your arm, it’s going to sting for a bit…”

As he leans his arm close to you, you dab a bit of disinfectant into the wounds. He hisses in pain and bites his tongue.

“Sorry,” you say, feeling bad for him as you start wrapping gauze around the wounds, “I did warn you.”

“O-oui… that you did, Mon Ami,” he chuckles shakily as he pats his newly wrapped arm. He motions for the bottle of disinfectant which you hand over to him.

“Now it is your turn! Hand please!”

You sigh and roll your eyes playfully, letting him tend to your hand as he douses the alcoholic solution over the scratches and burn marks from that one merc with the laser headgear.

“That woman… didn’t she call you disgusting before?”

“S-she did? I hardly remember!”

“Well I do… I’m glad she’s dead… How could she say that?”

As Bullfrog starts wrapping your wounds up with gauze, he looks down forlornly.

“That’s just how some humans are towards hybrids, I guess…”

“That’s a load of bullshit.”

“Eh, but what can you do, other than to fight back?”

You reach for a clean rag as you gingerly wipe away the blood dripping from his forehead.

“It must’ve been frustrating…”

“... It is…”

“... Well… I don’t think you’re disgusting.”

Bullfrog smiles, fiddling with his hands as a warm feeling takes over his body, “hmm, merci, Mon Ami…”

As you cleaned off the blood you glanced at the rag which is now thoroughly bloodsoaked. Grimacing at how much blood he has bled, you take out the needle and thread as you ready yourself to sew up his gash.

“I mean it, too. Seeing you back there taking on three mercenaries that are twice your size was a very impressive feat!”

“Heh, well as an assassin, I’ve taken on a couple of opponents that are even three times my size!”

As the Bullfrog delved into sharing his tales from the Brotherhood, you were almost done with stitching him back up whilst absorbing half of what he’s saying.

“And… done!”

Biting off the thread with your teeth, you gently patted his head and took notice of how he tended to your wounds. Marveling at the care and a nice little make-shift bow he tied on the gauze to secure it.

“Merci! Wow, great job, Mon Ami!”

“I could say the same to you, partner, this little bow is a nice touch!”

Bullfrog blushes and laughs sheepishly as he scratches his head.

“Oh, you think so? It was just a small habit I picked up when I was in the Brotherhood!”

“Is that so? Didn’t know a merciless killing machine can still carry such adorable habits~”

“A-are you flirting with me? You’re flirting with me, right?

He laughs nervously as he feels himself turning red and becoming flustered. You giggle softly as you give a playful shrug.

“Why don’t we discuss this in a place that isn’t as dank and riddled with corpses?”

You say as you wiped a sweat running down your cheek and started making your way out, “I’ll even treat you to something! How’s about juice? You seem like someone who likes juice, tropical or orange?”

As your footsteps faded further down the dark corridor, Bullfrog stood there in awe as he watched you walk away. His heart now beating just as fast as it did during the fight but now with the warm fuzzy embrace of something… wholesome…

Whispering to himself, as he watches you from afar, waving for him to catch up, “Oh mon dieu, je crois que je suis amoureux de toi…”

…

Fin.

[imagitory]

Okay -- so my visual aids for this post are very limited since Disney+ will not let me properly screenshot this and there are no good quality versions of this on Youtube anymore...but I need to talk about Disney's The Little Mermaid TV series for a second. Specifically, one episode very near and dear to my heart called Metal Fish, which features a human explorer going down in a fish-shaped submarine to the bottom of the ocean, getting stuck, and being found by Ariel and her friends.

Now honestly, watching the episode again, there's a lot I don't love about it. Sebastian's whole subplot with the crab scouts is really kind of annoying, and I skip every bit of it. But I love the character of Archimedes (even if he never appeared in the show again! Boo!), and -- more importantly to today -- there's this wonderful moment right toward the beginning of the third act of the episode where Ariel and our human explorer lay eyes on each other for the first time, and there's just this electric connection.

Something that bypasses words -- this sense of wonder, enchantment -- almost enlightenment. And is it surprising? No! Ariel is the spitting image of what the human explorer had in his mind, when he was dreamily sketching out what a mermaid could look like, back on land.

And of course, at the end of the episode, what else should the explorer end up being named, but Hans Christian Andersen? And what else would he do, after being rescued by a mermaid, but use it as inspiration for one of his most famous fairy tales?

Okay, yeah, admittedly Hans Christian Andersen was a much sadder and more dysfunctional brown-haired human being IRL (just watch this video for a nice deep-dive about this disaster gay/bi/honestly-maybe-even-romantic-ace)...not to mention he wasn't even half this dashing nor close to being vocally similar to the great Mark Hamill...but one thing I absolutely love about this episode, and the aspect I personally respond to most, is the choice the series' creators made to have their interpretation of Hans Christian Andersen and Ariel have a very striking visual similarity, as well as similar personalities.

Many theorize that the original little mermaid was a self-insert character for HCA, with his fairy tale being a fantastical lament about the one-sided love he felt for the son of his most significant patron, Edvard Collin, who -- like the mermaid's prince in the original -- fell in love with and chose to wed another. There's even preserved correspondence by HCA where he writes of his feelings for Edvard being "those of a woman." And although this is more likely about HCA struggling to express romantic feelings that felt out of place in the very religious, heteronormative world he was a part of than about HCA himself identifying as transgender, I still think it was such a sweet little gesture for this episode to highlight Ariel and HCA seeing themselves in each other.

And this is where I wish SO MUCH I had some good quality video so I could truly share this piece of the episode with all of you -- because the moment where Ariel and Hans see each other for the first time gives me such life.

When Hans first sees Ariel, he's lost for breath, and he sounds and looks almost bereft when she disappears from view. When Ariel first makes eye contact with Hans, she clutches her face and hair, almost as if seeing herself clearly for the first time. And the whole time, they're looking at each other not fully face-to-face, but through glass and water -- almost a reflection of each other. Because...they are.

I'm sorry, I fail to articulate how utterly beautiful this is. No love story could ever capture the emotion this short scene instills in me. A platonic connection so powerful that it transforms you and how you see yourself forever. Meeting another person and, in doing so, truly knowing yourself for the first time.

However much I might praise The Little Mermaid TV series primarily for its music, there are also moments like this that remind me how wonderful Disney's adaptation of Andersen's story really is.

[darkwingphoenix]

The Knights of Favonius, Faith in Freedom and Equality

Little bit of lore for my @loominggaia AU, about Skylie's divinity cult! Also, some stuff about Visions for my AU as well!

Overview

The Knights of Favonius, or the Favonius Order, is a divinity cult that worships the former Princess Skylie Evangeline, now known as High General Skylie Teyvat of Ascendance, or, to virtually all members save for the highest echelons of leadership, simply as the Unknown God, despite it being very well known she is a woman.

It is a well known and respected divinity cult in Evangeline, for the Knights work hard to keep the middle and lower classes healthy, happy, and protect them from dangerous groups, such as saraians, ex-slave insurgent groups, and Folkvaran invasions. Its reputation is pretty stable globally as well, for the group merely wishes to protect the common people.

However, while the deeds done by the Knights of Favonius are highly known and very real, it is all but a facade: Deeper into the cult's workings, one can find secrets of silent rebellion against the House of Humanity, although by this time a Knight is too dedicated to the faith to care, and those that are not are quickly detained, have their memories of such secrets wiped, and expelled from the Favonius Order under pretense of a crime that will make the person lose their standing in society and giving them vivid memories that self incriminate, so as to not let the secrets come to light.

The Favonius Order's symbol, two sets of wings in the formation of a shield with two swords crossed behind them, represents the Order's dedication to freedom and protection, while having a priority for peace but a willingness to fight when necessary.

The Favonius Order is an almost entirely Evangeline cult, so even though the Order has a presence in every Great Capital by way of a chapterhouse or two, this article will primarily focus on the Evangeline majority of the cult. Notably, in Yerim-Mor, ex-Crescent cultists are allowed a second chance in the Knights of Favonius.

Knights of Favonius Beliefs

The Unknown God is a worthy figure to emulate for Her convictions to peace and equality

Peaceful negotiation is always the best option when you must decide how to approach an issue

If you must fight, however, ensure you know the true aggressor, so you may stop the problem at its source

All species are deserving of equal opportunities and freedom, and slavery directly conflicts with freedom. Slavery holds no place in a proper society

One mustn't attempt to force others to change their ways, for many were raised to believe certain things. Instead, one should sow the seeds of change into people, and slowly tend to it so they may change on their own

People should be allowed to pursue their own lives, so long as they do not harm others in doing so

One should not be arrogant about their station, and instead use that station to aid the Order in its goals

Knightly Ranks and Recruitment

All Knights of Favonius are put into various ranks. The lowest ranks are stages of training, and only an initiated Knight is considered a true Knight:

Rank 0: Entrant

Entrants are the absolute lowest rank in the Order, and serve as mere servants for the Order, often as mere janitors in Favonius chapterhouses. This is meant to ensure entrants are truly willing to drop their pride to help the common folk.

Many commoners who join the Favonius are used to chores, and thrive in this environment, although many upper class people, used to chores being done by slaves, often struggle to advance for some time.

Rank 0.25: Page

Pages are the first step in advancement in the Order, and while no longer required to do lowly chores in chapterhouses, pages are assigned a fully fledged Knight who they work for, carrying papers, delivering messages and parcels to other Knights, and so on.

Pages are also given basic combat training if they have none, and once they can use their preferred weapon (From a choice of swords, polearms, bows, claymores or magical gear if a fae or gaian) proficiently enough to defeat another page in combat (All weapons are blunted, and arrows have nonlethal heads), they progress to becoming a squire.

Rank 0.5: Squire

Squires are more personal assistants for their Knight, aiding in the care, maintenance and equipment of their armor, weapons, and mounts, if they possess one. They also receive additional combat training, and will often assist their Knight in combat if needed.

Usually by this time, a squire will learn of the Order's anti-slavery and pro-magic ideals, and this is seen as a true test of character for the squire: Should they heavily resist the attitude towards slavery and magic, their memories will be wiped, and they are expelled. However, should a squire accept or at least tolerate this attitude, they will be given a final test: Bring any slave they own, or a slave they captured on the run, to a Favonius chapterhouse, and let them free in the presence of a higher up, and they will become true Knights.

Rank 0.75: Honorary Knight

Upon initiation into the Order, an Honorary Knight is no longer directly serving another, although they are not truly a Knight yet. They also eventually gain a Vision from an Archon. The exact timing of attaining a Vision isn't reliable, so many Knights only gain them during combat, or while simply on duty.

Honorary Knights usually travel in groups of about 3-6, aiding those in need or directly handling quests for the Order, if not directly guarding Favonius chapterhouses. Once a Knight gains their Vision, they are knighted and become a true Knight.

Rank 1: Knight

Full fledged Knights are allowed to pursue their own quests to advance the Order's goals, although they still must take orders from those above them in the chain of command. When not taking orders, however, many Knights, in groups of 4, find ways to protect, serve, and aid their communities. Many wealthier Knights will use their wealth to improve the lives of the lower class or to purchase slaves and free them.

In Evangeline, this means the slaves will often have to remain with the Knights of Favonius, often joining the Order, or be escorted to Folkvar or Favonius chapterhouses in port cities, where they are sent to Ascendance or Matuzu, if not being taken to their home kingdom, if they remember such.

From here, a Knight may take on either a more clerical role in the Order, eventually becoming a Robin Baron, or take on a more field approach to promotion, one day being promoted to a Knight Errant

Rank 2: Robin Baron/Men-At-Arms

Robin Barons are the first level of higher command in the Order of Favonius, taking control of a town's chapter house. A Robin Baron spends much more time doing paperwork, giving orders to Knights stationed in their chapterhouse, and aiding in the freeing of slaves than fighting, although they still know how to fight, especially since they gain advanced combat training using their Visions to aid them in combat.

Robin Barons also take on pages and squires to assist them, and will make a point in traveling beyond their chapter house to keep their fighting and negotiation skills sharp and to train their page and squire.

Men-At-Arms, on the other hand, are effectively on-the-ground commanders of the Knights of Favonius, taking command during combat, although their station only commands lower-level Knights, Honorary Knights, Pages and Squires. They are the equal to a Robin Baron, and while they needn't take orders from Robin Barons, they usually do out of respect.

Rank 3: Chaptermaster/Knight Errant

Chaptermasters are the direct superior to a number of chapterhouses: In large enough towns or cities, they control the entire settlement's chapterhouses from the largest one. This is a democratically assigned position by all Robin Barons in the settlement. In areas with less population, a Chaptermaster may control a much larger area made up of mostly villages, hamlets, and small towns.

The difference between a Chaptermaster with many chapterhouses in one city and one with their chapterhouses scattered across many villages and small towns is nonexistent beyond a convenient term: Urban and Rural Chaptermasters. An entire Chaptermaster's group of chapterhouses is known as a chapter.

Chaptermasters are also told the true name of the Unknown God and her history, and are trusted to not betray this knowledge to anyone but fellow Chaptermasters.

Knights Errant are the field equivalent of a Chaptermaster, taking direct control of Favonius forces in combat. Should their station city be attacked, they will also aid in the defense of the city.

Rank 4: Hold Knight/Knight of the Realm

Hold Knights control the largest chapterhouse in an entire hold or territory, controlling the Order's operations in the hold from the primary city, where they are also acting as the city's Chaptermaster. They are elected from the Chaptermasters of the hold, with all full-fledged knights allowed a vote.

Knights of the Realm are the highest regular field Knight anyone regularly sees, and although rare outside of their hold, their presence is a relief to many, and they can even take control of non-Favonius soldiery, many lower-level commanders outside of the Favonius willingly following orders.

Rank 5: Acting Grandmaster/Favonius Knight

The Acting Grandmaster is the highest echelon of the Order an ordinary mortal can achieve, directly conversing with the Archons and occasionally the Unknown God, whenever she appears. The Acting Grandmaster serves in the largest chapterhouse of the Favonius Order, the primary chapterhouse in Evangeline Capital itself, also known as the Citadel of Favonius.

The Favonius Knight are a group of elite Knights handpicked by the Acting Grandmaster, Archons, and the Unknown God herself. They are exclusively stationed in Evangeline Capital's hold, rarely venturing beyond. They are stationed at the Citadel of Favonius, and are on equal standing to the High Ruler's own royal knights. Favonius Knights can also take control of all military forces in the Evangeline Capital Hold, should the case ever arise.

Rank 6: Archon Entrant

Archons Entrant are maenads who have grown tired of their hedonist ways and have turned to the Favonius to seek enlightenment, for the Order is much easier to find than the Ethereal City in search of Karenza. Archons Errant assist in the Citadel of Favonius, serving alongside the Favonius Knights and Acting Grandmaster. They gain their own Visions just like any other Knight of Favonius.

They are required to mostly let go of their old ways, although they are allowed to hold onto their amphoras until they become Archons Errant.

Rank 7: Archon Errant

Archons Errant are the small group of maenads who have become "soft titan nymphs" by the Unknown God's will. They no longer need to use their amphoras for sustenance, their Visions doing so for them. The Vision, in the hands of its Archon Errant, secretes a magical gelatin in the same color as the Vision itself. This gelation can sustain the Archon Errant, heal non-Archons Errant, and even cure diseases like vampirism, lycanthropy, and the skinwalker curse, although the gel must be consumed in large quantities for several years before the cure takes full effect.

Rank 8: The Seven Archons

The Seven Archons, sometimes called the Seven or the Archons, are former maenads turned into titan nymphs by the Unknown God, and as such are only replaced should they fall in battle. They are directly responsible with aiding the Order in its goals, as well as distributing Visions, which they create for new Knights.

They no longer need sustenance from their Visions, and in fact no longer need the Vision at all: Instead, they draw their power from a powerful magical artifact, the Gnosis. All 7 Archons have a Gnosis, to which their soul is bound to. No matter where the Gnosis is, the Archon will only fall to lethal battle wounds.

The Gnosis are also totally indestructible, with their power drawing from all magic of their respective elements: Pyromancy, hydromancy, floemancy, galemancy, floramancy, terramancy, and electromancy. Each Gnosis is the direct source of the power of Visions in turn.

Rank 9: The Unknown God

The Unknown God, who is better known to her highest inferiors as Skylie Teyvat, is an extremely new divine, although her exact origins, to all except the Acting Grandmaster, Favonius Knights, the Archons as well as the Archons Errant and Entrants, are little known, beyond her having been a divine for less than a century (Actually a mere 30 years), being a female commoner, and a native Evangelite noble (She is actually a former High Princess of Evangeline itself, although she rarely says this)

Her goals are unknown to the populace of Evangeline, save for her Knights should they be Chaptermasters, Knights Errant or higher.

She ultimately wishes to end slavery and inequality in Evangeline Kingdom, and uses her Knights of Favonius to pursue that goal.

She is certain that with the rise of High King Cobalt (Her little brother) and his seemingly goal to abolish slavery in the harvest kingdom, she needs to know how to direct her Knights to halt the spread of slavery and inequality elsewhere.

Visions and Gnosis: The Might of Favonius

(Various regional Vision cases (Gold around the gem), left to right top to bottom: Evangeline, Serkel, Umory-Ond, Wokina, Evik, Ascendance, Folkvar, and Special Model. Archon Entrants and Errant randomly obtain a case)

Various Visions in Evangeline cases

Various Evik Visions (Found in Zareen Empire and Mogdir)

Various Serkel Visions, including an inactive Vision (One whose former user has died or was expelled from the Knights of Favonius after attaining one, useless magically, and raise eyebrows if sold, but can fetch a sum of around 4,000 GP in the right markets)

Umory-Ond Visions (Mostly found among Unseelie citizens, although occasionally found in the possession of Seelie citizens or even Spriggan's Sanctum inhabitants)

Wokina Visions (Found in Etios and Lamai equally, with a small population in Burmek having them)

Folkvaran Visions (Also found in Halostira)

Ascendance Visions

Visions are magical items gifted to Knights of Favonius, and to various people in the world whose values match Skylie's, by Skylie herself and the Archons. These symbols of Skylie's divinity provide a wide variety of benefits for the holder:

The most obvious for many is their magical power: The intended user can activate an elemental magic school connected to their Vision, even if they can't use magic at all, such as commoners, unattuned gaians, and many monster. For magical peoples, this simply allows the user to use the magic school at will without practice

In Evangeline, bearing a Vision allows one a measure of respect, for most will assume the holder is connected to the Knights of Favonius, a highly respected order dedicated to Skylie

Koholasaurs, tepetlisaurs, and yumkasaurs can be possessed by Vision holders (A literal thing people can do in Genshin Impact, specifically in Natlan)

Fae can ignore their species' arcane flaw (Goblins don't automatically perform commands should their true name be used, elves have a lowered risk of arcane fatigue, and sirene don't activate their echomancy spell, although strangely, gnomes still die on their 400th birthday and cecaelia still get brain cancer)

Favonius chapterhouses can be teleported to by Vision holders of any creed, although the holder is in a weakened state for a short period of time, during which said person will be ushered out of the chapterhouse if they are not a Knight of Favonius

Beyond Knights of Favonius, it is unknown why people gain Visions, although it is known Skylie does all such endowments personally, although she may not be present when it forms.

Such Vision Holders, known as Freemasons to Evangelites, have no connection to the Knights of Favonius and don't have to join, but if they don't, they have no additional guidance beyond the fact they know Skylie gave them their Vision because she thought their deeds pleased her, and continue to do so.

These Freemasons truly show how Visions work to the world, being highly effective magical weapons, although always geared toward creating a more equal society, and some even consider them dangerous: Sovereign of the Aquarian Alliance, for example, has declared a Vision hunt Decree, which has put him into conflict with Evangeline, for the harvest kingdom views Visions as sacred.

In any case, a Vision is a gem that can fit in the fist of its owner (So a gnome's Vision is extremely small, while an ogre's is the size of a large ball), and is often worn as a pendant, amulet, or other jewelry.

Above Visions are Gnosis, or High Visions for some. These unique 7 artifacts are owned by the 7 Archons loyal to Skylie, and are much stronger. They're the size of chess pieces, and glow with the energy of their element.

Skylie can also handcraft a specialized, unique Vision or one person, which takes much more time than merely handing out premade versions. These Visions can often be more powerful than normal and grant unique powers.

[littlespace-imagines]

This is kinda detailed (feel free to ignore)

A king/prince vampire coming home from like a awful meeting to human! Little reader who has recently had a boo boo (probably from tripping while playing or something like that), and since the vampire can smell the blood, he’s instantly at the readers side and basically being a softie for them

Absolutely!

Cg!Vampire (Vince) x little!reader

Contains: fluff, cursing, description of bloody injury, split nail, more than one POV, cgl dynamics, established relationships, vince is the goth daddy of every littles dreams

**Ageregression and Littlespace will never be sexualized on this blog**

(Vince’s POV)

I didn’t anticipate getting called into work especially one one of the rare days my little one is able to visit but here I was, fuming mad and looking over my employees.

“How does someone fuck up this badly?” I ask calmly, taking in the faces of the people sitting before me, all dressed in suits but avoiding my gaze. I ran a hand through my hair and looked back over the board.

“Well? Did you all go mute?” I ask, a bit harsher this time,

A woman clears her throat and my eyes snap to her I see her flinch at my hard gaze,

“Well, Sir, uh, Martha went on maternity leave.” She says

“And? Is it not your job to assign the workload to another person?” I ask and she nods

“Yes, it is, I thought I had sent an email about it to Anthony, Sir.” She responds

“Ah I see. So you didn’t send the email to Anthony.” I say as calmly as possible she once again nods. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and look over the same documents again.

“Christina, you’re fired, if you can’t do your job you do t have a place here. Anthony, you’re hired onto her position, congratulations you get a raise. Oh and sam please post a job opening and I was no less than 10 resumes and applications on my desk by Monday. As for the rest of you let this incident be a fucking example that I don’t tolerate slacking at this company.” I say before turning to leave, I walked my way to my car and climbed in. I thought about calling my baby who’s at my house, alone and unfamiliar with everything, they’ve only been over a couple of times and I felt bad to leave them.

I decided I’d stop by their favorite fast food restaurant and order their favorite meal, food always cheers them up. Once I’ve gotten the food I drive straight home as fast as I can, as I’m coming up the driveway I can hear the soft sound of them pattering around, I smile to myself as I hear them running towards the door as soon as I start unlocking the door, I open it just in time to catch them falling, food held safely in one hand and my arm wrapped around them to keep them safe. I take in their shocked face followed be relief, I stop for a second to admire the adorable way their dressed,

They look up at me briefly before I smell it.

They’re bleeding.

I quickly sit everything I’m holding on the very end table they almost fell from, I inspect their foot and quickly find the bleeding toe, I look up and see the tears running down their face and I can feel panic rising in me.

Panic, I haven’t felt that in so long.

I run to the bathroom grabbing some cartoon character bandaids they insist I keep for them because they’re clumsy, and a small first aid kit. I run back and sit on the floor infront of them before I realize I have no clue what I’m doing,

“Oh god fuck, what did I do?” I ask, looking up at them

“You don’t know what to do?” They ask me and I shake my head, I can see the grip on their stuffed animal tighten in worry,

“Love, I’ve been undead for nearly three centuries, the last time I went to a doctor they gave me leaches and prescribed me chlorodyne which is now known as chloroform.” I said with a chuckle as they looked at me with wide eyes

“I, I, I don’t know, I can’t think.” They mumble and I for the first time take a good look at them, they’re little. They’re little and their hurt and I don’t know what to do.

I feel angry, I’m angry at myself, how could I let this happen?

“Daddy?” They ask and my eyes snap up to their eyes,

“Yes, love?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady

“I think I just need a bandaid, it’ll be okay.” They say and I nod, holding the box up to them, they pick out a very cute and very tiny bandaid, I follow the instructions on the back, making sure the cotton pad is directly over the bleeding.

I stand up and scoop the into my arms, they wrap their legs around my waist and bury their head in the crook of my neck, I smile and hold them tightly, hoping that maybe I can love away the pain.

“Oh, yes, I got you some food.” I say and they perk up,

“Did you get my favorite?” They ask and I laugh,

“Yes, Ofcourse.” I say,

Once I get them settled down and eating with their drink poured in their favorite sippy cup and their favorite cartoon I excuse myself, I quickly grab the now empty end table and take it to the back yard, with a single throw the end table is nearly obliterated, pieces of wood and screws litter the yard, I pick up every piece I can before throwing it in the garbage and make my way back inside.

Atleast for now I don’t have to worry about the end table anymore.

[loverofallthingsfandom]

GAYS IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM - THE OFFICE

The Scranton branch has officially absorbed the Stamford branch, and as a show of good faith, Michael calls everyone into the conference room to explain why [Oscar] being gay is okay.

WC: 734 words

Song Inspo: I Can See You by T. Swift

The staff were sitting in the conference room. A beige table was set up in the center with tan chairs inside it and around it by the three, beige walls. The fourth wall had a whiteboard, inches apart from the open door. The gray carpet was well-vacuumed and the white window shades were shut. Self-explanatory, the room made for an exciting meeting.

"Oscar is a good person." Michael spoke as he paced in front of the whiteboard. "You know, it should've matter if he's gaaayy or normal," Jim side-eyed the camera, "he's a human being, man. I...," Michael sighed and grabbed his hips, "I just don't understand how people could be so hateful."

"Michael," Kevin's deep voice rose from somewhere behind Karen. "We don't hate Oscar because he's gay... At least, not all of us." The large man mischievously glanced at Angela.

"Hmph." Angela crossed her arms, Bible in hand. "I don't support that lifestyle. It's impure, ungodly, unsanitary..."

"Unprotected- that's what he said!" Michael chuckled then caught himself. "No. No! I meant that as in unprotected because they are unprotected in this country. So anything you took from that is anti-gay. Case closed."

Dwight nodded along and took notes. Andy stroked his protruded chin and squinted with pretend intrigue. Stanley did his crossword puzzles in the far-left corner. Meredith's mouth hung agape and her eyes were red, clear signs of early intoxication. Pam looked uncomfortable between Karen and Jim but said nothing. Jim condescendingly smiled and did routine stares at the camera. Erin sat closest to Michael and the door, in clear view of Karen. While Michael went back-and-forth with Angela, Karen watched Erin doodle in her notepad. Fillipeli's cheek found her shoulder and her eyes found a tranquil lowness. Amongst all the speel and chaos, nothing seemed to matter then.

"-I refuse to give my American right to practice religion. Seriously. Whatever happened to freedom of speech? My first amendmant right-"

"Second." Dwight coughed.

Angela eyed him then returned to Michael. "If you can't afford me that right, I'll just have to pray for you." She smirked and patted her Bible.

Phyllis looked at her with terror and sadness, having the displeasure of sitting right next to the blonde woman.

"Can I ask," Karen turned around to her, "what type of Christian are you?"

"Excuse me?" Angela raised a brow.

"Catholic? Mormon? Jehovah witness? Baptist? Born-again?" Karen listed off the sects.

"I'm a devote Christian, old testament." She specified, enunciating the last part. She looked around the room with a finger up, as if expecting someone to oppose her.

"I grew up Catholic. Read the Bible every Christmas."

Angela smiled a bit, then cleared her throat, lifted her chin, looked at the floor, and raised a brow. "Favorite passage?"

"Easily Psalms 139:7." Karen scoffed. "Arguably the best passage, aside from Leviticus and Luke, of course."

Angela pouted a smile, almost holding back delight and disdain for not needing to correct Karen.

"Wow, Karen, I never pegged you for a Bible thumper." Kelly stated what the room was thinking.

"That's because sinful women like you wouldn't know a real holy woman from your left elbow, Kelly." Angela spat at her, making the Indian woman gasp.

"Ryan!" Kelly called for her boyfriend's aid, but he just shrugged.

"Invite Oscar back if you want. Invite the AID's epidemic right along with him. I don't care anymore." Angela shrugged. "As long as I have this," she held up her Bible, "and my undeniable faith, I'm safe."

"From gay people?" Jim replied. "You think the book wards off gay people?"

"I do." Angela said matter-of-factly.

"What'll happen if I say I'm gay and I touch it?" Kevin asked on top of his question. "I'm not." He addressed the room. "But it'd be funny if I was, right?" He laughed throatily.

"You'd burst into flames." Dwight answered.

"Not accurate." Andy counteracted.

"Oh, how do you know, Cornell?" Dwight looked him up and down.

"Can I see it?" Karen cut him off. "It's been so long since I've held one that wasn't mine."

"Sure, Karen. I trust my fellow God warriors." Angela sneered at Jim as she outreached her black little book to Karen. Granted, this was Angela, so she never let go, but Karen did stroke it's cover.

"Whoa. Leather. Very nice." Karen complimented her.

The scene cut to Karen's interview.

"I'm also a lesbian."

[vicit-vim-virtus]

Starter for @dryadalismagicae // Lyrian

Oh, great, as if his life couldn’t get any worse. First, he was born into a family where parental guidance, support, and affection were prohibited. Then, he got disowned for repudiating his father’s wishes, and consequently, swerved the lands, forests, meadows, and towns of Faerûn for literal decades, only to wind up in the most deplorable district in Baldur’s Gate. Fortunately, after myriads of years of floundering his way up in the circles of society, he finally managed to clamber out of the mire that was poverty. At last, he could pursue the career he’d always dreamt of. He was a successful bard, member of a talented troupe, he was on his way of making a name for himself. That was, until those tentacled freaks abducted him and shoved a mind flayer parasite in his eye. And, of course, to make matters even worse, the nautiloid, his prison, had been under attack, shot out of the heavens, causing him to plummet to his death. The only twist, however, to his tale, was that he hadn’t died. Not that this predicament was any more desirable: stranded on a beach, all alone and surrounded by a scenery foreign to him, the grove nearby, full of selfish and xenophobic druids and not a single healer to aid him with his ocular malady, and now, this — a deceased dwarf, claiming the elf was some sort of True Soul. Luran had not the faintest of clues what that entailed, and he certainly didn’t want to find out, but his ignorance had antagonised the two humans who’d been desperate to safe their perished leader. (Who on earth would go poking their dense, dull-witted heads in an owlbear liar, while those creatures were notorious for their ferocious nature?)

Fatigued and annoyed, Luran regarded the two humans as they yanked their weapons from their sheaths and pointed the blades at him. Perhaps happening upon the grove and the merchants was a godsend; the longsword he’d obtained there would prove to be his most valuable companion. Still, he didn’t know what he’d done wrong, didn’t fathom the impact of his ignorance. Not that it mattered, for he had no other choice but to eliminate his adversaries — no amount of deceptive rambling could get him out of this hellhole now... Unfortunately, the humans were startlingly and disconcertingly agile and swift, and nicked the exquisite fabric of his attire within mere seconds. A sigh left his lips as he seized the hilt of the sword and swung it at his opponents. The woman ducked, the man did too, but was a tad too slow and the blade drew a deep gash in his shoulder.

Though, the elf had injured him, the man retaliated, the sun reflected in the metal of his own blade, which Luran, craftily, managed to parry by holding the longsword vertically. Unfortunately, this action left his right flank unprotected, which the woman and her mace took advantage of. The blow to his side destabilised him, almost knocking him prone. Some of his ribs cracked under the forceful impact, eliciting a groan of pain from him. Stellar... He tried to ignore the discomfort, which increased with every movement, and lashed out, pivoting around his axis, building up momentum for his longsword, and engraved a cavernous, crimson red cleft right across her face. She sagged, like a burlap sack of flour, on the grass and bled out.

A cry of anguish mingled with grief, pierced his pointy ears before he felt the searing pain of metal penetrating his skin and muscles — his other side. Luran gritted his teeth to muffle a cry of his own, and burrowed his sword deep into the man’s chest. The cultist retracted his blade out of reflex, causing warm blood to ooze out of the wound he’d inflicted. Instinctively, Luran covered it with his hand, applying pressure, and watched how the other fell victim to his wrath.

The commotion, the distinct sounds of a tussle, ebbed away, leaving the high-elf hunched in pain, his injuries aching, throbbing, with two — three — dead bodies lying at his feet. Fan-fucking-tastic...

[braveclementine]

Offended and Again

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Twilight characters or locations. I do own Davina Mikelson and Marcel. I also own the backstory for my OC. I do not condone any copying of this.

Davina's P.O.V.

The hospital was actually relatively close to the High School, and larger than what I would've expected a small town hospital to look like. But I supposed sometimes people could come from all over or something if there was really good care here. And the hospital had 5 star ratings on Google.

I parked my motorcycle, not bothering to throw the tarp over it as I hurried up to the hospital doors, the intern paper in hand.

Looking around the waiting room, there were a few kids, their parents, and an older woman with her daughter. I waited patiently as the woman at the front desk talked to a patient on the phone, holding it between her cheek and shoulder as she put information in on the computer.

I reviewed the paper, making sure everything was filled out correctly. I would hate to miss this internship because of some mistake on my part.

Name: Davina Michaelson Age: 18

(Cause someone who looks like they had a late birthday is better than a nineteen year old still in school)

School Status: High School Birthdate: April 7 Home Status: Alone Marital Status: Single Blood type:

Damn, I wanted to be a doctor and I didn't even know my own blood type. That wasn't going to look good at all.

I wished I could find my hospital files from the accident about what blood they'd used to replenish my blood, but it had been to difficult to look at. Now, I was paying the price. I would just have to explain that I simply didn't know.

The secretary put the receiver down and smiled up at me, "Hello, how can I help you today?"

"Umm, hi." I said, becoming rather awkward again. "I wasn't really sure where I was supposed to turn this in?" I handed her the internship paper and her face became just slightly hard as she glanced at it.

Her smile was more forced when she turned to me, "You don't know your blood type?"

"It's on one of my hospital records but I haven't had the chance to look at it." I replied.

"Are you sure you even want this internship or is just to try and get with Dr. Cullen?" The woman asked in a low whisper.

I swear to God I saw red.

Carlisle P.O.V.

I was walking down the hallway talking with one of my nurses when I overheard Karen at the front desk ask, "you don't know your blood type?"

I frowned slightly, telling Nurse Kelly to go on without me as I needed to 'make a phone call'. I stopped so I could listen, unsure who Karen was talking to.

A voice I had never heard before said in a rather awkward tone, "It's on one of my hospital records but I haven't had the chance to look at it."

Strange, they couldn't possibly have hospital records here, I didn't forget voices, and this one was rather pleasant. I could listen to this girl speak for a long time and never get tired of her voice, something that was strange as I had never felt that way before about anyone.

Even though Karen lowered her voice, I could still hear her as she muttered, "Are you sure you even want this internship or is it just to try and get with Dr. Cullen?"

I almost sighed aloud. Of course, another girl intern. That was a bit of a disappointment.

I was rather surprised when the girl burst out rather angrily, "Look, I don't even know who Dr. Cullen is or what he looks like! I can name every bone in the human body, label heart diagrams from memory, I know CPR and basic first aid, and about half of the diseases that are most common in America! I am not here to bloody crush over some guy whose probably twice my age and already married. I don't care if he looks like Alan Rickman or Daniel Gilles, I'm trying to intern so I can learn to be an Anesthesiologist and I'm honestly offended that you think so lowly of a girl you don't know sh- crap about."

Well! I was rather pleased with this turn of events. She was someone who was genuinely interested in the medical field.

I leaned out of the doorway, just slightly to see a girl of average height with brown hair- not counting the few green and blue streaks she'd added into the curls- making her way out the door. Karen looked rather angry and abashed at this turn of events.

I could hear a motorcycle starting up outside and was sure that the girl had been riding it.

Unseen by me, Karen crumpled a piece of paper in her hand angrily and tossed it into the trash can, getting up, and moving into the breakroom for a moment.

Quick as a flash, I darted to the trash can, pulling out the piece of paper, and darted back to my office, being careful so no one saw me move so fast.

"Davina Michaelson." I mumbled, reaching for the phone, "A pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Davina P.O.V.

I sped down the highway, making my way towards La Push. I was absolutely pissed at the secretary back at the hospital. How dare she make an accusation about me trying to get into the doctor's pants! I didn't want any such thing.

I was really starting to hate this Dr. Cullen bastard. I mean, why the hell did people think he was so great?

I usually didn't judge people before I met them, but it was getting very hard not to judge him based on everyone's opinion on him.

He must be a Lockhart with a few more brains. That's all there was to him. He was probably in his fifties too, and just had that 'young' look about him. And of course, married guys always seemed like a thrill because of that forbidden aspect.

I mean, I had no idea if he was married or not, but he probably was. If he was as hot as they say he is, he probably has himself an actress or model or maybe even one of those hot shot porn stars.

Okay, maybe not.

Eligible Bachelor. Yeah right. If this guy was as great as they were making him out to be, he could have whoever he wanted.

Like a hot shot porn star.

As I flew down the road farther into La Push, I realized that I didn't exactly know where Sam's house was. On the other hand, I knew where Jacob Black's house was, and soon I was pulling up, climbing off the bike to knock on the door.

It took a moment before the door was opened, a man in a wheelchair sitting before me. I raised an eyebrow. "Well hey Billy!"

He grinned openly, "Davina! What a surprising surprise!"

"I'm afraid I might've lost the address to Sam's house." I said with a bit of a smirk. "I don't suppose you could point me in the right direction."

"I'm sure I have the address around somewhere." Billy said, wheeling himself back around. I thought I saw a flash of worry in his eyes, but I must've misread it because it wasn't there when he looked over his shoulder. "You can come on in."

I stepped into the small house, closing the door behind me.

"Dad, who's here?" A younger man's voice called out and Jacob came into the room, looking at me with a head tilt.

"Hi Jacob." I greeted him. I didn't know him the way I knew Sam. I knew his sisters though.

"Er-"

"Davina Michaelson." I introduced myself, holding out my hand which he shook in a firm manner like his father. "You probably don't remember me, I'm a few years older than you. I think you were five the last time I saw you. I'm more friends with Sam."

Jacob nodded and Billy came back from the kitchen. "Here you go. It's really not far from here. But the second address is his girlfriends house, Emily Young. If he's not home, you can try there. In fact, you should probably try there first."

I grinned, "The boy finally got himself a girlfriend, eh? About time. I thought no one would have him."

Billy chuckled, "Come back soon Dav."

"Will do Billy."

"Tell your parents hello for me."

That hit like a ton of bricks and I nearly tripped over my own two feet. "I- I will." I said with a bit of a grin, and then closed the doors behind me, closing my eyes. Damn.

I hurried to my bike, reading the second address. Billy was right, it wasn't all that far from here. Not at the speed I would be going anyways.

I pulled back up the driveway, setting back out on the road, zooming towards this Emily Young's house.

I wish I knew more about Emily, but I knew absolutely nothing about her. What did she look like? Was she also Native Indian? Was she older? Younger?

I wasn't jealous, Sam was more like a brother than anything else, but I was a bit surprised not to hear Leah's name instead. Like Emily, I didn't know much about Leah, but I knew that Sam had had a bit of a crush on her when I'd left for Kentucky. Oh well, things change. I mean, he was what, ten when I left?

I pulled up to the house. Actually, I would've called it more like a bungalow. It looked like it was built into the forest, made of wood, and looked dark. I was a bit hesitant, unsure anyone was home except for the blue pickup in the driveway. It was also rather old.

I stopped the motorcycle, hopping off, and approaching the door to the house rather warily.

The doors that were in the front of the house were wide and glass, giving me a perfect view of the kitchen with a small, round wooden table and chairs. There was a small lamp on, but no one was in sight.

I knocked as loudly as I dared, afraid I might break the glass should I knock harder than that. I waited rather awkwardly, counting the seconds in my head. When I got to sixty-nine (cause why not), I turned and started to walk away.

Only a few seconds later, the glass door was slid open and I turned to look at the man in front of me.

The guy standing in front of me was heavily toned, had a freaking six back, short black hair, a tattoo on his right arm, huge muscles, and was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.

"Sam?" I questioned in disbelief. Holy shit.

"D-Davina?" Sam asked, taking me in with wide eyes. And then he grinned, "You got shorter."

"And you got uglier." I jested back, putting the bike helmet down, stalking towards him. "Billy told me you fell in love. Who's the lucky guy?"

He basically tackled me at that, his hands on my hips, pushing me to the ground, trying to tickle me. I squirmed underneath him, laughing before grabbing his wrist, twisting it just slightly, hooking my right leg over his back, flipping him to his back so I straddled him, pinning him to the dust. His eyes widened in amazement.

"Don't worry Sammy boy, I'm always going to beat you."

There was a small cough behind us and I turned around to see a semi-beautiful woman standing there. There were claw marks on her face that extended all the way down her arm. I studied the nature of the marks for a second until Sam coughed for a second and then I got off of him with a bounce.

"So sorry." I said with a grin. I looked back at Sam, extending a hand to help him up. I grinned at her. "Wow Sam, She's seven times prettier than I thought she'd be."

Emily blushed and Sam scowled, "That's cruel shorty."

"Just facts ugly." I said with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders before approaching Emily with my hand out. "Sorry about that. I'm Davina Michaelson."

She shook my hand, "Emily Young."

"I know. Billy told me before I came." I said with a grin.

"What!" Sam protested, "And you still made the joke about a guy?"

"Course I did dear brother." I teased. "What's the fun in life if I can't tease you twenty-four seven?"

"You're his sister?" Emily asked in surprise.

"Not biologically. Obviously." I said gesturing to the drastic difference in skin tone. "But we grew up together. Till I moved anyways. But we've kept in touch through letters mostly."

Emily paused for a moment and then said, "Wait, you're beloved?"

I growled at Sam. "You did not."

Sam grinned. "I did."

I flipped him the finger. He rolled his eyes.

I turned back to Emily. "It's Davina. Ignore him. He's a dumbass."

Emily's lips twitched and Sam grunted, "Don't you dare laugh Emily."

She very nearly laughed.

"Anyways, how about you come on inside for a bit?" Emily asked.

"Sure, thanks." I said, following her through the glass doors and into the kitchen.

"How are you?" Sam asked seriously. "I haven't heard from you for two years and you kind've just dropped out of the blue. . . how long have you been in Forks?"

"I arrived yesterday. I spent most of it putting the house back in order." I said, only answering part of his question while I took the seat, spinning it so I could sit in it. I was starting to feel rather tired from my exhausting day.

"Would you like anything?" Emily asked.

"No, I'm alright, thanks." I answered. "Anyways, what about you Sammy?"

Sam grinned, "Nothing to much."

"You have a girlfriend." I pointed out.

He shrugged, "Haven't you had a boyfriend?"

"Nope." I said, letting the 'p' pop and my stomach clench uncomfortably. "There weren't many kids or guys my age."

"How are your parents?" Sam asked.

I clenched the chair tightly in my hands. I knew I should be expecting this question but it still hurt. But I didn't want the pity that I would get if I told him my parents were dead. But I didn't like lying to Sam either.

"I don't know, I haven't spoken to them in a while." I replied nonchalantly.

He gave me a curious look, "How long?"

"Two years ago?" I questioned. I shrugged, "Thought it was time to move to Forks."

Sam frowned, "What? They disowned you or something?"

"Not really." I replied, trying to figure out a truth that wasn't a truth. "We just. . . lost each other I guess."

"Did something happen?" Sam asked, prodding now.

"Just some things back on the base." I replied. "But it's really nothing you have to concern yourself with Sam. I'm fine, really."

"Right well, the next time you see them, tell them I said hi." Sam said with a bit of a frown.

"I will." I said.

There was a bit of silence until I leaned forward and said, "Sooo, have you watched The Vampire Diaries yet?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "No, why would I watch that?"

I scoffed, offended, "Because I'm a lovely character in it."

"You're named after a character, you're not actually the character." Sam replied, amused.

"I'm offended."

"You're always offended shorty."

"Keep it up ugly, I'll roll you in the mud again." I jabbed.

"Did someone reject you?" Sam jabbed back, "You're never in such a bad mood?"

"I'm not in a bad mood." I grumbled.

Emily laughed, "You two argue worse that Paul."

"Paul?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow. "That scrawny kid I could beat in five seconds in a wrestling match?"

Emily snorted, "Not scrawny anymore, that's for sure."

"Bet I could still beat him." I said with a smirk. "Just as I beat lil' Sammy over here."

"I let you win." Sam jabbed.

"Mhmm." I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, spill. What happened today?"

I gritted my teeth and he realized I was actually legitimately pissed. "It was the secretary at the hospital."

He blinked, "What?"

I sighed, "I was hoping to find an intern position at the hospital here while I finish up my last year of school, it's only like four classes that I wasn't able to do at the base. Anyways, I filled out the form and the secretary said she didn't actually think I wanted to intern to learn the medical program because I don't know my blood type. The questions were so stupid on the form too, wanting to know martial status! Like why the fuck do they care if I'm single, taken, married, or fucked?! It's none of their damn business! And she just said that I only wanted the position so I could get into Dr. Cullen's pants and I've never even met the guy! I don't know what he looks like! And it's so stupid! Why the hell do I have to be punished by not getting the intern position when they're all jealous I'm gonna take him or something? I'm not going to take him! He's probably fifty!"

I breathed in heavily from my rant, pinching the bridge of my nose, and closing my eyes. I finally relaxed and muttered, "Sorry."

"It's fine." Sam said tersely.

I opened my eyes, "You okay?"

"Just mad you don't have the intern position." Sam said with a bit of a smile.

I shrugged, "There's always college learning. Not like I have the money to afford it but I'll manage."

Sam grimaced and that was when my phone rang.

I sighed, pulling it out and sliding it over. "Hello?"

"Is this Davina Michaelson?" an angelic voice asked on the other side.