#the fuck boys carrying the boulder together <3 just for me <3

[faunandfloraas]

They give my scale a name, do-re-mi-fa King Giant.

[gretavanbitch]

Tangled up in blue- 2

warnings- drugs lol 

One month and six weeks prior- 

Keeping herself busy when Josh was gone was no easy task for Penny. She tried her hardest to focus on work, sitting in front of rows of developed film, feeling burned out. There was no good reason for this feeling, simply that she was lonely. Sighing, she thought of the only thing to relax her and calm her mind without Josh, weed. 

Her bare feet padded across the hardwood floors of their loft softly, overalls rustling slightly as she made her way to their bedroom. She walked to the brown cabinet next to her side of the bed and pulled out a small encrusted gold box. This box was opened probably too often when she was home without Josh, but also when he was there. She pulled out a filter, and papers. Then taking a bunch off the gram, she grinded it slowly, closing her eyes and wishing she was somewhere else. As her hands moved absentmindedly, she imagined what the boys were doing right now. They were probably on some tour bus or green room getting drunk, which sounds a lot more fun than getting high alone. She imagined Josh, sitting in some plush chair with some extravagant jumpsuit on, smiling and laughing with his friends, without her. She decided to shoot him a text, just some reassurance that he was still there. 

Penny: Hey babe, Jake try to murder you yet? 

Sent: 8:23pm 

She sat, licking the joint closed and waiting eagerly for a reply from Josh. After five minutes, she decided that she would put on a record and smoke, just to pass the time. Joni Mitchell’s Blue started to reverberate off the walls of the apartment, causing her to smile softly to herself. She remembered back to the first road trip she took with Josh, playing this album over and over again until they reached the other side of the country. His hair would run wild with the windows down, and a smile never left his face that week. Snapping back to reality, she brought the joint to her lips and lit her lighter, inhaling deeply and falling back into the couch. After the record had run through both sides, she felt like she needed to do something with her day other than smoke and miss Josh. 

Once again, the rows of film stood daunting before her. It was as if they were the royal guard for an impenetrable force in which her motivation was protected. With a hazy mind, she started flipping through the photographs of the recent week, smiling wider with each one. Your favorite was one that you took of Josh outside of a cabin in Washington. He stood away from the camera, but was smiling straight at it, teeth shining and bandana around his neck. That was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen, the purest form of natural beauty. Nothing like anything, ever. She also chuckled to herself as she flipped to one of Sammy biting Josh’s hand, and Jake posed dramatically against a boulder.

She loved the way that the light reflected with the camera lens, and the way that it interacted with the subject. Just as she was about to write down a title for the series, her phone buzzed on the table next to her, lighting up with a notification from Josh. 

Josh: Hey mama, just got off stage, it went great. I wish you could've seen it. How did the film come out? 

P.S, Jake has tried to stab me sixteen times already. 

Sent: 12:34AM

Penny: It came out great, here see. 

Attachment: 3 images 

Sent 12:35AM 

Josh: Beautiful, my love. You have a gift for manipulating the light, it's amazing. Can we talk or are you too tired? 

Sent: 12:36AM 

The thought of talking to Josh without seeing his face and expressions change with each word, caused her chest to hurt with want. So instead, she clicked the Facetime button rather than call. 

Her phone vibrated for a few seconds, panging in her ear loudly. Yet within the blink of an eye, she was greeted with her favorite pair of brown eyes staring onto the screen in front of him. She smiled, and floofed her hair to make sure it didn’t look too trash. 

“Hey pretty lady,” he smiled at her. Josh was laying on his back on a bed, presumably on the tour bus. He was lacking in a shirt, but the beads that always decorated his neck hung down past his chest. His hand was stretched above his head, and the phone was angled up from his stomach. 

“Hey pretty boy,” she responded, positioning the phone in a more comfortable position on the couch, “watcha up to rockstar?” 

“you know the usual, living the life, but I really really really wish you were here, everybody does.” His eyes blinked slowly, showing signs of tiredness, but he would never reveal that to you right now, your time was too precious. 

“I do too, trust me its so fucking depressing here with just me and Marely,” she sighed, reffering to the tabby cat that her and Josh adopted together a few months ago. 

“aw how is she?” He asked, smiling into the phone. Penny moved the camera to her right, displaying the cat that was curled up by her hip. 

“She is great, but wishes she was living the rockstar life,” Josh chuckled to Penny’s response. 

“Okay but seriously Pen, can’t you just call sick for one week, say you got really bad food poisoning,” he pleaded. 

“If I say that, then I feel like I will accidentally manifest that I will actually get food poisoning for a week,” she laughed into the phone. 

“fair point, but it’s not the same without you here, I’m not the same without you here,” his tone shifted to a more serious one with every word, looking straight into her eyes through the screen. 

“I mean technically I’m on studio time right now, so they wouldn’t know if I came with you for a week or two...or they would fire me,” she scratched her chin, thinking out the possibilities in her head. 

“If they fire you, then just go freelance, they never fully understood your work anyways,” he smirked at her, knowing that she always complained about the company she was hired by, repeating their failures for understanding creativity. 

“Alright Kizka, you drive a hard bargain,” Penny smiled. 

“Is that a yes?” Josh’s eyes widened at the blonde girl through the screen. 

“it is not a no.” 

“fuck yes, so I can book you a plane ride to California for tomorrow?” He now got up from the bunk, excitedly running to his computer. 

“Mhm, just tell me what time.” 

“Ok here’s one, leaves Nashville at 8, gets in Cali at 10,” Josh said, calculating the time difference in his head. 

“you are such a bad influence, Kizka,” Penny rubbed her forehead tiredly. 

“I will see you tomorrow my love, get some sleep okay?” he smiled at her tired expression, kissing the camera of his phone sweetly. 

“see you tomorrow.” and with that she hung up the phone and exhaled loudly. What just happened? One conversation with Josh and she hits the road. It makes her think back to when she didn’t have anyone, and spent years alone in her little studio apartment, taking photos of walls and birds. Now she would drop everything with the snap of his fingers. In her heart she knew that her dependency on him for happiness was not right, but she was too deep in. Her head was stuck underwater, surrounded by the cool rush of his love. The flaws went unnoticed by both of them in fact, just simply mistaking it for head over heels infatuation. 

As her head hit the pillow, she thought that the emptiness of the room was less significant as it was a few hours ago. Maybe it was the excitement of the idea of not sleeping alone tomorrow, or just the few minutes of hearing his voice. Whatever it was lulled her softly to sleep. 

In a hazy dream, she remembered her and Josh’s first kiss. It was outside of their favorite bar after their second date. He stood next to her, shoulder pressed to hers, and hand interlacing with her own. He was wearing his usual attire, a white long sleeved shirt and tan pants. Yet he looked extravagant, his energy was inherently outgoing. As he says, the Kizka’s have a “flair for flair”. The cool wind seemed to push the pair together, jostling her hair softly as he looked over at her. His eyes were slightly hooded, closed just a slightly against the wind. Her glances fell down to his cupids bow, admiring its shape, then to his lips where she wished she never had to leave. He noticed the shift in her gaze and did the same himself, smirking at her. She smiled, tugging his chin towards her. His hands laced through her hair, smiling into the kiss. Their lips met, and they fit together like they were made for each other, and no one else. 

Her alarm forced her out of the wonderful image that played in her sleep, jutting her eyes open to the harsh sunlight of the morning. She quickly packed an old leather suitcase with a few pairs of jeans, shirts, and dresses, knowing that she would be stealing jewlery and sweatshirts from Josh. In what seemed like five minutes she was at her gate, coffee in hand, and camera stowed in her carry-on bag. She decided to text Josh that she was about to board the plane, knowing that he was probably still asleep. 

Penny: Hey, boarding now. I’ll text you when I land

sent 8:05am

She then put her earbuds in, deciding on listening to the new album, just so she was prepared to sing alone at the shows. It wasn’t like she hadn’t memorized it the night it came out, but she always felt bad listening to it with Josh, it just felt odd to her. The first song to come on shuffle was Light My Love, and she nearly cried remembering the fireside performance she witnessed a not too long ago. 

The plane ride went by in what felt like minutes. Her mind was racing with so many thoughts, most about getting in trouble with work, but others about Josh and how excited she was to see him and the rest of the band. The tires of the plane landed in California with a jaulting thud, and she was brought out of her dissociation. 

She knew that Josh expected her to uber to the venue, after all he was probably just waking up now. So she called an uber, standing outside of LAX clad in an old Janis Joplin shirt, flare jeans, and her classic high heeled leather boots. Penny looked straight out of the 70′s, but Josh felt like the 70′s, a pair who perfectly complimented each other. 

The uber ride was bumpy and seemingly and hour too long. She finally reached the venue at 11:46, hastily thanking the driver and sauntering to the tour bus parked behind the stage. She knocked a few times on the door, and after the third time, she finally heard a groggy “what do you want” 

She smiled, pushing the door open with her foot and walking up the stairs, she was met with a pool of long brown hair and a very naked Jake laying on one of the bunks. Josh was nowhere to be seen. 

“Oh hey Penny, what are you doing here?” Jake asked casually, ignoring the fact that he was naked. She was not phased by the latter twins actions, after all, she spent a fair amount of time with the band and often felt like she was equally as close with all of the members. 

“Just lookin for my loverboy, any idea where he is?” She answered, leaning against on of the seats camly. 

“I think I remember him saying he wanted to go hear the acoustics of the empty stage, so maybe he’s there,” Jake answered groggily. 

“thanks,” she said as she made her way, now at a faster speed then before towards the back entrance of the venue. The staff didn’t seem to bat an eye at her as she hastily walked hallway after hallway until she reached the back of the stage. Then she saw him, standing with his arms out wide, silently absorbing the feeling of the empty arena. 

“babe?” she said, accidentally making it sound like a hushed whisper. 

The curly headed man then turned his head over his shoulder, smiling. His smile widened nearly ten fold when he saw the girl to his left. She looked amazing, her hair seemingly always falling in just the right way, she paused for a moment, reaching for something in her bag. 

“don’t move, and look forward again, just like you were before,” She smiled and clicked the shutter of the camera, knowing it would be beautiful, every photo with Josh in it is. She then put the camera away and ran into his arms, collapsing into his embrace. He hugged her tightly, moving his hands up and down her back. 

“I missed you so much my love,” He said into her hair. 

“I missed you more lover,” she replied. 

Hey pretty people! I hoped you liked this chapter, I may or may not write another either tomorrow night or by sunday! Asks are open for Jake or Josh imagines BTW!

[nocturnememory]

this softness (a knife, a knife, a knife)

 I was with you, he says, with his fingers ghosting along her scar. Right here, always.

She’s curled up against his side, Tales of Beetle the Bard, sits splayed open on the other half of the bed, but there’s no story she likes hearing more than the one he’ll tell her and only her, in the low light of her bedroom, half-asleep and pressed up as close as she can get to him.

Prompt: This is two prompts mixed into one, hopefully that works out for both prompters... the first was “What if Voldemort won the first war but harrie still ended as a hocrux?! Their life and story then. Would he watch over her as she is raised? Maybe care for her more or less?“ and the second, “How do you think Voldemort would raise Harrie? If he took her or kidnapped her from her parents instead of trying to kill her.”

This doesn’t quite match up with both exactly, but it merges the two together because I think they were too similar to not meld together into one prompt.

hopefully the two prompters enjoy it anyway!

Warnings: Underage, age-gap, Voldemort raises Harrie, Minister of Magic Voldemort, morally grey!Harrie. Pureblood rhetoric/prejudice. Pureblood culture/beliefs.

This is definitely pretty dark and like, very very morally complicated. Don’t be fooled by the fluff in the first part. If you’re at all sensitive to underage/age-gap stories, this one is definitely not for you. While I’ve done my best to keep it from being squicky with grooming, there’s definitely still going to be threads of this story that cross like, a lot of boundaries.

this softness (a knife, a knife, a knife) 1/3

                  Outside of her cupboard, there’s a knock on the front door of Privet Drive.

In the kitchen, a chair scrapes back, her uncle grumbles and mutters about dinner time and no good nuisances. His footsteps are heavy and thundering as he passes by her cupboard, blocking the striped, reaching light from the slats for a moment as he heads to the front door.

His footsteps fade as he turns the lock and yanks the door open, his voice sharp and hard. “Do you know what time it is? What kind of f—”

There’s a thump and a sliding sound, like something heavy being pushed across the floor. Like when Aunt Petunia has Harrie vacuum the front room and she has to push and push the big couch back to get at the dust underneath.

The light to her cupboard gets blocked again, that sliding noise louder and louder like whatever is being pushed is sliding right past her cupboard door along the strip of carpet in the hallway.

Beneath that noise, just beneath it, something gurgles and gasps.

And then, there’s a scream. A thump, more thumps, something breaks and shatters and underneath it all, that choking, gasping gurgling sound.

Harrie huddles into the corner of her cupboard with her knees to her chest and her arms shaking, clutching at her little tin soldier in her sweaty palm.

No one ever looks in her cupboard, she tells herself, they won’t find her in here. She’s safe in her cupboard, she’s always been safe in her cupboard.

It gets louder, the thumping and gurgling and screams outside of her cupboard and Harrie tucks her head into her knees, squeezing her eyes shut—

Until—

Until—

It goes quiet.

Her ears strain and she pulls in a breath and holds it, trying to hear what’s going on in the kitchen.

There’s a drip, drip, drip… and Harrie swallows, turning her head towards her cupboard door, watching the light stripping through the slats, her heart thundering in her ears as she holds her breath just a little bit longer.

Drip, drip, drip.

Like spilled milk over the edge of the kitchen table, she thinks, or juice from one of Dudley’s tantrums that Harrie always has to clean up, girl.

Drip, drip, drip.

Shaking, she hears footsteps, a pair of shoes over the hard kitchen floor turning into softer steps on the carpet in the hall. Steady and slow, coming towards her; they sound too heavy to be Aunt Petunia’s, but much too light to be Uncle Vernon’s.

A stranger, she thinks. It’s a stranger in the house, isn’t it?

She huddles smaller, hugging her knees tighter as the footsteps stop in front of her cupboard; it blocks some of the light, the pair of legs just outside of the door.

Her heart pounds, wild and unsteady and so loud in her ears it sounds like Dudley jumping on the stairs above her head. Thump thump thump.

The latch slides and drags back in a metallic scrape.

She goes cold at the same time something hot burns through her stomach and— and she feels— she feels—

So angry. So angry, her palm’s slippery and hot and it was over too quick, too quick, should have taken longer. Drawn it out. It’s clawing at her insides and— and the knob turns and the feeling cuts off, sharp and sudden enough to make her hitch a little breath.

The door pulls back.

A man crouches down slowly, he’s tall and big and fills the little, angled doorway of her cupboard up until there’s barely any space left.

He holds his hand out, it’s red and shiny, even in shadows of her cupboard.

“Hullo, Harrie,” the man says with a careful, slow smile that makes her feel…makes her feel…

It makes her slide forward, unfolding from her tucked-up, tight huddle in the corner, makes her slip her hand into his sticky one so he can pull her out towards him until she can tuck her head into his neck and wrap her arms around his shoulders and cling onto him so tight she thinks it has to hurt him.

But his fingers are long and warm as they push into her hair to cup the back of her head as his arms wrap around her like they’re swallowing her up in the size of them; his voice is low and warm and she can feel it inside of her chest, her belly, the clench of her knees digging into his ribs, trembling to cling on tighter and tighter and tighter.

His head turns into her shoulder, his chest shifts against hers as he breathes out, long and slow and warm over her skin, his arms tightening just a little bit more around her.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.”

                                                                            She’s so much smaller than he expects.

He doesn’t burn the house down, no matter the desire to wipe the filth of that family off the face of the Earth like God’s hand coming down with a vengeful flood.

No, no. That’s almost kind, isn’t it? Fire purifies in so many ways, and they deserve to die like the bugs they are. A smear of gore on glass. Crushed beneath his palm.

He seals the house and leaves them to rot.

The girl, his girl, breathes gently against his neck, her cheek soft and warm, her arms lax over his shoulders. She hasn’t spoken yet, but she knows him.

She knew him as soon as she saw him.

In a cupboard. A cupboard. (He killed them too quickly, too easily. He should’ve taken his time taking them apart. Chained them to a rockface and picked at their organs and bones like a vulture. Left them to be gnawed on by rats and birds a little more each day.)

His girl whimpers at the heat of his anger and irritation, and he ducks his head and presses his lips to her forehead, his voice low and easing, shh, sweet girl, it’s alright.

She weighs nothing, and it’s his own fault for being so caught by it. She’s taken up so much space in his mind for years that the reality of her, no matter that he knows she’s nothing but a four-year-old child, leaves him staggering to process it.

He’s been hunting for her for so long. Four years since he knew about the idea of her. Three years since he’s known her, known her voice and her face in flashes, known her hunger and her tears, known the terribly rare sound of her laughter. (Once, just once, a kitten-lick on her palm, a stale house with an awkwardly-kind old woman surrounded by cats who fed her stale cake.)

A squib, he’d found out later, a kind old fucking squib faithful to Albus. She’d lived only long enough to seal her own fate. (A terribly small girl, she’d said around her tea cup, her eyes glassy and unfocused, I’m not sure they treat her very well but—)

But.

But.

                                    When he was a boy, he imagined that when the day came that he and Albus came wand-point to wand-point, it would be bloody and beautiful and biblical. The battle of Armageddon; the orphan boy and the false king.

(His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself.  He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God.)

A final stand that would raze Britain to its foundations and let the victor rebuild it in whatever image they chose. A fanciful, violent dream shaped by a boy sculpted by his childhood. Verses twisted to fantasies. Recitation twisted to conception.

It would have been something.

But now— now Albus has fashioned himself a noose of his own making and it tightens by the hour. Inches tighter by the minute. There will be no crowns and no battle, no fire and no brimstone.

There are bruises on her and she weighs nothing.

                                      He holds her through the twist of Apparition, carries her into his estate that’s been sitting empty, sitting waiting, sitting ready for the moment he finally found her.

He peels her out of her too-large muggle clothes and sinks her into a bath so overloaded by bubbles from an overeager house-elf that she nearly disappears into them.

The house elves send food and Harrie picks at apple slices with peanut butter and sliced fruit with slick little fingers.

He sinks himself onto a conjured stool beside the tub and does not even once think about what anyone would think about Lord Voldemort sitting at the side of a child’s bathtub.

Instead, he rolls his sleeves and pulls bubbles into little animal shapes to move around her head. Sends an Erumpet charging through a bubble-boulder, a snake winding over her head, a little fluttering pixie that blows bubbles out of its little bubble mouth.

Her laughter is sweeter than that one echoing sound of it he heard once in his chest— sweeter than any sound, in truth, in all the years he’s been alive or a shade or something caught between the two.

Harrie laughs and giggles and soaks until she’s pink and pruned, until all the filth of those muggles is nothing more than dirt sinking down the drain.

After, when he plucks her out of the tub and wraps her in a too-large towel, she stands between his bent knees and shivers in the chill outside of the tub, the fluffy thick, white towel tugged up to her mouth as she blinks at him all wide-eyed and green; hopeful, resigned, curious, cautious.

“Are you real?” she asks, her voice small and muffled as he rubs his hands briskly over her shoulders and back to warm her up again.

His anger is a sudden and ice-cold dagger inside of him. Harrie's brows furrow and her body tightens, shoulders tensing, pulling the towel higher and tighter until its right under her nose.

He reigns it in, swallowing it down and resumes rubbing over her shoulders and back. “Yes, I’m real,” he says, as light and easy as he can manage. “Do I not feel real?”

She shrugs her little shoulders and leans into him, tucking her head against his shoulder. She’s warm and damp and he can feel it soaking into his clothes slowly, but he wraps her up in his arms and lets her burrow closer, still clutching at the towel but pressing herself into him.

“I’m real,” he says as her hair soaks his shoulder and she turns her head and presses her cheek against his chest. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time, Harrie.”

She’s quiet, her body slowly easing in his arms as her shivers subside. “You promise you’re real?”

“I promise.”

                                     (Albus has lost the right to be remembered. He’ll be no more than those muggles dead in Four Privet Drive, a smear of bug guts on glass.

He’ll leave the man to rot in a field, he thinks. 

Nothing but dead and rotting meat.)

                                                                                               I was with you, he says, with his fingers ghosting along her scar. Right here, always.

She’s curled up against his side, Tales of Beetle the Bard, sits splayed open on the other half of the bed, but there’s no story she likes hearing more than the one he’ll tell her and only her, in the low light of her bedroom, half-asleep and pressed up as close as she can get to him.

He’s warm and so big and Harrie never feels like she can get close enough, no matter where she tucks her head or how hard her hand curls into his shirt. His heartbeat is steady and familiar, even when it wasn’t. Even when she isn’t sure she knew his face, she thinks she always knew him.

I had to put myself back together, he’ll say, with his fingers on her cheek or her scar, his voice this low-rolling thing that fills her up so nicely, rumbling out of his chest and into her. You were my little guide in the dark for all my scattered parts.

She doesn’t like the idea of him being apart but in her mind he’s like a puzzle and she’s piecing him back together with her own little hands, fitting all his edges into hers the way her still-bony knees and elbows fit so nicely into the warmth of his chest or under his arm. The way her cheek will fit hotly against his shoulder and she can hear that wave-like whump-bump of his heart that always reminds of her when she was in her cupboard and it was dark and empty but not so empty at all. When she’d shut her eyes and plug her ears to cover the sound of the Dursleys forgetting about her. In the quiet, in the press of her palms, she’d hear that ocean-like sound, whump-bump, whump-bump.

It’s her favourite place to be, listening to that sound inside of him; her ear pressed up against his shoulder or chest and she thinks he knows it, too, because sometimes he’ll slide his hand over her cheek until it covers her other ear, until the world fades away and there’s nothing but that sound. Nothing but the weight of his palm, his fingers in her hair and his thumb tracing slowly over the edges of her scar.

Whumpbump.

                                                                                              There’s a man kneeling on the floor, and he’s bound in shackles and he looks at Harrie with the saddest look Harrie’s ever seen, like those dark paintings she’s seen hanging on the walls in the Malfoy’s long hallways, their faces twisted and dark.

The man in front of her and Tom says her name like it’s something other than just a name.

“Harrie,” he says with a face that twists almost painfully towards tears. Harrie, I’m so sorry—

She doesn’t know what he’s sorry for, but one of the Death Eaters standing next to him yanks a thick silver chain that’s attached to a thick silver collar around his neck and the man grits his teeth as his eyes flash yellow and something growls low in his throat as he winces in pain.

Tom carries her as he walks in front of the man, but there’s a smile on his face just for her, and in her ear he says: he thought he could hide you from me, like it’s a funny little secret just for them.

Harrie almost laughs, burrowing her smile into his chest instead; she doesn’t think it’s the right place to laugh, it’s too cold and tight in the room. It doesn’t feel right. But it’s funny all the same and she feels it bubble inside of her because—

Because Tom hunted giants for her, she knows the story; she was hidden away like a princess in those adventures in her picture books.

The half-giant came thundering through the rubble and stole you away from the battle right when I’d finally found you.

The giant had been the one to leave her with the Dursleys, Tom said.

Sometimes, Harrie thinks she remembers it, this cracking roar of a sound that she thinks must’ve been the giant; she remembers being carried so high up that it must have been something very tall carrying her.

He was the key to finding you, he’d tell her whenever she asked for the story, and I fought him until he fell like a great, old tree and then I cracked him open until he spilled all those terrible secrets in his thick, giant head.

It’s silly, she thinks, that anyone could think Tom wouldn’t find her. The man kneeling in front of them should have known better.

“This one,” Tom says as he shifts Harrie in his arms and walks around the chained man. “Was one of Albus’ most loyal little dogs. But he’s been hiding away in the muggle world, hasn’t he? Like the little traitor he is.”

The last comes out sharper, harder, and Harrie feels Tom’s anger in her belly; sometimes she’ll get echoes of it when he tells the story but it’s brighter now, more real.

It isn’t just a bedtime story, she knows, no matter how many times she asks for him to tell it. She knows it’s all real.

Tom fought giants for her.

“Not even a dog,” Tom says and then he smiles again and presses it into Harrie’s cheek until Harrie looks at him and wraps her arms around his neck and drops her cheek to the thick of his shoulder to watch the bound man from the comfort of Tom’s heartbeat beneath her ear when he pulls back.

“No, not a dog,” he says lightly. “But we’ll let him find himself, won’t we, sweet girl? We’ll show him what sort of beast he truly is.”

The man swallows and jerks in his chains, his eyes closing as his shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry, Harrie.”

She frowns and fiddles with a button on Tom’s shirt, blinking at the man; she doesn’t know what to think about him, only that he’s awfully silly for thinking Tom wouldn’t find her, and must not be that smart to think he could hide.

Tom’s very, very good and Hide and Seek. He always finds her.

“It’s a full moon tonight,” Tom says lightly. “We should go to the beach, shouldn’t we?”

Harrie sits straighter in his arms, glancing at the other man. She doesn’t think Tom means to bring him along, they usually only go to the beach together but… “Just us?”

Tom chuckles and nods. “Just us. He’ll be much too busy tonight, I’m afraid. He’s been cooped up and hiding for so long, I’d imagine he needs some time to be himself, hm?” he pinches her side, his smile growing at her laughter before he turns his head to look at the other man. “And he must be quite hungry, I’d imagine.”

                                                                                                           Nagini, Tom tells her, holding her in the waist-deep water along the edges of the lake as the snake slides through the waters around them like a glimmer of dark oil just under the surface. She’s big and long and endless, circling Tom’s waist, brushing slickly against Harrie’s toes where they dig into his hip.

She isn’t sure if she’s afraid, because Tom’s with her and nothing bad will happen to her if he’s there, she knows, but she clings on a little tighter to his shoulders, peering down into the dark waters, the sun above them lighting only the first few inches, just enough to see the metallic, colourful scales along the snake’s skin as she circles them.

Tom walks further into the water, until it laps coolly over her waist and his stomach and she’s only half-listening but ever attuned to his voice in her ear.

Naga’s prefer the water, he says, but Nagini loves to hunt in the fields. Fat cows and wild deer, the bigger the better. She’ll squeeze and squeeze, he says, his arms tightening around her, until they fall asleep, and then…

He pinches her side and makes her squeal out a laugh and slosh the water around them as he sinks them up to their shoulders.

She’ll bite them, quick and sharp, sinking her venom into them.

You’d be nothing to swallow up, he teases, a little mouthful. A little appetizer with sharp little bones.

You wouldn’t let her eat me, Harrie insists.

No? he asks, with his crooked smile that makes her whole tummy do this happy little dance and makes her grin back as she shakes her head, the damp edges of her hair flying around them.

I’m not food.

Aren’t you? he says, with a laugh as he takes her hand in his and moves it out into the water to stroke over Nagini’s winding scales. What are you then?

Yours, she says and his grin is wide and so happy she can feel it, like little bursts along her insides.

You are, he says and brushes his nose over the soft of her cheek before he lets out a little snarl and bites her cheek lightly. You’re mine to eat up, aren’t you?

Harrie squirms in his arms, giggling at the scrape of his teeth over the soft of her cheek, before she bites him back, snapping her little teeth at him, her nose scrunching with a growl. No. I’ll eat you. She says and wraps her arms around his neck, tighter and tighter. Like Nagini, she decides, I’ll swallow you up.

He laughs into her shoulder, and she barely pulls in a breathless squeal of surprise when he dunks them both into the water, Nagini winding around them, her voice as smooth as silk.

Hello, little hatchling. He’s been hunting for you for ssso long.

                                                     The door creaks open and he glances up, even though he already knows who it is, sneaking into the room. Though, he thinks, sneaking isn’t quite the word for it.

His girl slips sleepily into his office, clutching a throw blanket from her bedroom around herself, her hair wild and her eyes heavy with sleep. Her bare feet quiet little pats in the lull in the room, the blanket dragging behind her like a cloak.

Abraxas’ lips turn up at the sight, hiding a smile in the way he leans on his elbow, his fist just covering his mouth. Bellatrix’s jaw tightens in irritation, as young and too eager as she is vicious and cruel.

Severus watches the girl, his mind carefully, perfectly blank.

Harrie stumbles up to his side and he turns in his chair, letting her clamber onto his lap, pressing her warm cheek into his chest as she curls up in her blanket. She grabs at his arm, dragging it over her middle, a soft little pout in her lip.

“Spoiled girl,” he whispers before shifting her, settling her more comfortably on his lap, listening to her little inhale and sigh, feeling the curl of her hand into the front of his shirt, holding onto him.

She’s asleep in moments, the gentle hum of her mind always at the back of his, fades into a soft, blurry thing full of contentment.

“The papers are already running the story,” Abraxas continues after clearing his throat and schooling his face. “The attack on the Ministry will be blamed on the Order. I edited the article myself, malcontents targeting Purebloods and Minister Bagnold, who so recently and tragically lost his wife to the very same violent insurgents.”

“How terrible,” Tom smiles, feeling that same contentment that comes with Harrie’s steady heartbeat against his. “I look forward to tomorrow’s paper.”

                                               Albus dies alone a week later. A poisoned candy rotting away in his stomach.

(He lets them bury him and lets them mourn. He takes Harrie to Italy for the week and lets her press gelato-sticky kisses to his cheek in the heat of the Italian sun and the salty spray of the ocean. He’s never been partial to lemon, but he smiles around glass after glass of Limoncello and laughs at the face Harrie makes when she insists on tasting it.)

Lemon has never tasted better, he thinks.

  (He digs him up when they get back. Strips him naked before dumping him in a field just outside of Hogwarts wards. No final words, no victorious speech; Harrie’s waiting for him already, tucked into his bed no matter how many times he carries her back to her own.)

 Victory, Tom realises, looks entirely different now:

Sleep-warm cheeks, bony knees in his ribs, a little reaching hand that curls around his finger. 

                                   .

.

[stevie-kd]

“Cold”

Part 3

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

::In which Kirishima is the best boyfriend ever, and Bakugou can’t say the words he desperately needs to get out before the end::

•••••••••••••••

“Katsuki! Please, please, Katsuki. Wake up!”

Bakugou blinked. His mouth was so dry. His head hurt. Scratch that—everything hurt. What the hell?

“Kats! Oh, thank god. Hey, can you hear me?”

His vision was swimming but his hearing was back to normal, despite a faint ringing. He managed a nod.

“Okay, good. I need you to move for me. Can you do that?”

His voice sounded strained. Bakugou squinted, trying so hard to focus on him. There was light coming from somewhere, dull but nonetheless helpful. The flashlight, he realized, beaming from somewhere just out of reach.

“Katsuki, please. Just trust me. Please, babe, move.”

Kirishima was begging him. Shit. He had to move now, but could he? His arms were fucking broken, and he couldn’t pull himself away with them. He tried at his legs, sliding himself across the hard ground coated in sharp, jagged rocks that cut into his skin through his shredded coat.

“Good! Keep going! You’re almost there, love.”

He managed to get out from beneath Kirishima after seriously strenuous effort. His body felt so entirely broken, his muscles were screaming after so little movement, and the pure cold that bit into his skin on top of everything else was infuriating. He’d never felt so weak, completely unable to help as his boyfriend held up the massive amount of rocks and debris to protect him.

Kirishima let out a relieved sigh, but it cut off into a choked sob. “Okay,” he said, panting. “I’m going to try to roll out of the way now, so all these rocks above us are going to come down. Can you get any farther back?”

No. That was the simple answer. His body was shutting down. When he tried to tell Kirishima it was hopeless, all he could do was splutter. What the hell was wrong with him now? His tongue felt huge and his mouth tasted like… blood? Shit. Oh shit! He was struggling to breathe!

“Katsuki! Oh god, I’m coming! Just hold on.”

The rocks shifted above them, and a second later Kirishima was diving at him. He grabbed Bakugou by the waist and heaved him away from the crashing boulders.

Bakugou screamed, pain spiking in his spine as he was ungraciously tossed back. As soon as he rolled to a stop, he curled in on himself.

Kirishima was there, his hands all over Bakugou and trying to feel around for the worst injuries. He was crying—no, sobbing. Kirishima’s crocodile tears dripped onto Bakugou’s face, mixing with his own tears he could barely feel on his cold cheeks.

“They’ll—be here—soon!” Kirishima was saying through his sobs. “We’re gonna be—okay, Katsuki! I—I promise!”

Bakugou hacked up blood and spat it onto the ground. Son of a bitch, he must’ve punctured a lung and surely broken a few ribs. Coughing up blood was always a bad sign. They had a time limit now, and if the heroes didn’t reach them quick enough, Bakugou wasn’t getting out alive.

Kirishima knew this. It’s why he was sobbing helplessly. There was nothing he could do but wait it out and pray his boyfriend made it through.

Kirishima kissed him on the forehead for a long moment before he too laid down beside Bakugou, pulling the blond to his chest where it was the slightest bit warmer.

Bakugou tilted his head up, wanting to see Kirishima’s ruby eyes one more time, but it was too dark. He could hardly make out his face at all.

He curled into Kirishima, taking in his scent. It was so earthly, so manly. He loved Kirishima, to the fullest meaning of the word. He needed him more than he needed to be the number one hero. His life had been all about being the best for so long, when really he’s had the best in front of him this whole time. He’d been blind for so long.

If he made it out of here, he wasn’t going to let Kirishima down. He would let him know how much he fucking meant to Bakugou. He wanted to tell him now, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words. He wanted to say how beautiful he was, how strong, manly, and completely idiotically brave. He wanted to tell him he was fucking perfect, and that he would be okay if Bakugou didn’t make it. He needed to tell him to keep going, to become a great hero and find love with someone else. There’s an infinite world of possibilities out there, and Kirishima’s journey was only beginning. Keep moving forward, Red Riot. This is not the end.

They cried together, holding each other close. Bakugou wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but he welcomed the numbness that crept into his body, stealing the pain away. He blissfully allowed sleep to swallow him whole, believing in his promise wholeheartedly that Kirishima would be okay.

Bakugou remembered seeing colors after that. Maybe faces. He couldn’t make them out. Everything was bleary and distorted.

He definitely heard Midoriya’s voice. Aizawa. Uraraka? He would later remember seeing her float rocks off of them. Someone else draped them in a blanket. Soon after, hands grabbed at them and pulled them apart, but they were too weak to fight them.

“—fat!” said a voice he didn’t recognize. “It will help get them warm!”

And suddenly all he could see was yellow, but it was so warm. He embraced it, trusting Kirishima was nearby and hopefully getting the same treatment.

Sleep pulled him down into its depths once more.

This time he awoke to white. Definitely a hospital room. Holy shit, he survived?!

He blinked the last bit of sleep out of his eyes, then whipped his head around in search of a certain red-haired idiot who was always there to greet him when he regained consciousness in the hospital.

His welcome party came in the form of pink, yellow and black. The three morons who proclaimed themselves as the official “Bakusquad” all stood once they realized he was awake.

“Blasty!” Ashido cheered, leaping onto his bedside and grabbing his hand. He tried to yank it out of her grasp, but he was still too weak. “You scared the shit out of us!”

“Dude, you’ve been asleep for four days!” Kaminari fumed. “You’ve had us so freaked out. I haven’t gotten any beauty sleep because of you!”

“Yeah, man,” Sero said simply, but he had a big smile on his face. “Not cool.”

Bakugou lifted his head to survey himself. Both his arms were wrapped in casts from shoulder to wrist, and he had a bunch of tubes and an IV attached to the backs of his hands. His chest was wrapped heavily in gauze, but he found it much easier to breathe than before. He realized there was an oxygen mask strapped to his face.

The three dorks were still talking to him, but he barely picked up on their words. They were explaining how they managed to find the boys, and all the Pros that came to assist in the search. The Pussycats and Thirteen and Fat Gum… Apparently Fat Gum probably saved their lives when he carried them to safety in his fat to help keep them warm. Bakugou was thankful, but he was glad he couldn’t remember it very clearly. He would’ve been crazy embarrassed if the whole class saw him like that.

His eyes flickered over to Ashido then, figuring she would be the most helpful. “Where’s Ei?”

She smiled sadly down at him. She nodded her head to the only other bed in the room. Bakugou could make out the form of a body beneath a layer of covers, but there was a curtain that blocked him from seeing his boyfriend’s face.

“He woke up for the first time a few hours ago,” she explained. “He was asking about you too. Fell asleep again right after he found out you were alive. He’s crazy about you, you know that? Well, I’m sure you do. We all know you are too.”

Bakugou felt the tears welling up in his eyes, but he was too tired and stressed and fucking emotional to give a shit. He was just so happy, he couldn’t help it. They still had a future together, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

“You broke him!” Sero yelled at Ashido. “Oh god, Bakugou doesn’t cry. What do we do?”

“CODE RED! CODE RED!” Kaminari wailed.

“Chill out, guys! I’m sure he’s just… feeling a lot?” Ashido said in the form of a question.

Bakugou lifted a casted arm to cover his face, but he nodded at her. He was feeling so much all at once, and it was just so foreign.

“Katsuki?”

Bakugou caught his breath. He turned to look at Kirishima, but the curtain was still in his way. Kaminari realized this right away and jumped up to help alleviate the issue. He drew the curtain back all the way, revealing a bandaged, bruised, and utterly beautiful Kirishima Eijirou.

The idiot smiled, revealing his glistening shark teeth. He was pale and his head was wrapped up, but he looked otherwise okay. “Katsuki!” he beamed. “You’re okay!”

For some stupid reason he didn’t understand, this only made Bakugou cry harder. He twisted onto his side and curled in on himself, his chest suddenly so tight. He wanted Kirishima to wrap him up again like last time.

“Oh, Kats, no! Please don’t cry!”

“What do we do?” Sero asked, lost as ever.

“I know!” Ashido announced, jumping to her feet. She started moving machines and IV drips out of the way before making her way to the other side of Bakugou’s bed. “Sero, go push Kirishima this way and Kami can help me push Baku!”

The boys obliged and the three brought Kirishima and Bakugou’s beds together. Bakugou would have thanked them if he wasn’t still biting down on his lip to keep from crying more.

“We’ll just leave you two alone,” Ashido said with a wink before shoving the other two boys out of the room, giving the couple some much needed privacy.

Kirishima placed a hand under Bakugou’s chin, forcing his head up so they could meet each other’s eyes.

And there they were—those ruby eyes he’d begged to see one last time. Alive and well and looking back at him with fondness.

“I love you, Eijirou,” Bakugou said suddenly, pouring his heart into the simple phrase.

It caught Kirishima off guard, but his smile never faltered. “I love you too, Katsuki.”

His firm hands yanked Bakugou closer, and Bakugou fumbled with his casted arms to get the oxygen mask off of his face. After a moment of struggle and readjustment, the boys brought their lips to meet each other’s. Bakugou sank into the kiss, embracing the feeling of how warm Kirishima’s mouth was against his.

He promised himself he would never let Kirishima go. He needed him like he needed oxygen. It was obvious he couldn’t live without him.

+++++++++

Aaaaaand there we have it! Another complete KiriBaku fic. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did writing it! It might be a little sappy and out of character, but I’ll keep working on it! I have another fic just about ready to be posted... I can promise it’ll be up in the next few days for sure ! Thanks again ~

9/15/2020

[autistic-stedebonnet]

Mako’s Journey in Learning to Love Theater Kids

chapter 1

Chapter 3/?

In which Mako doesn’t cry, and that’s not necessarily a good thing

-

Mako did not like Wu one bit. He did not like how Wu would blow his curls up when they got in his face, in fact, he despised Wu’s curls and how soft they looked. He hated that Wu’s smile was almost blinding, and that his laugh was big and jovial and nothing like what he’d expect from someone who was clearly very wealthy and well-raised. Nope. Wu was obnoxious and loud and way too...touchy. There was not a single flutter in his stomach when Wu grabbed his bicep to show him something. And he did not feel suspiciously similar around Wu to how he’d felt when he first met Korra. 

“You and Wu seemed to hit it off.”

Mako whipped his head around in horror to face a smirking Bolin. “What?! We didn’t- he just- he wouldn’t leave me alone!”

Bolin’s face softened and he lay a hand on Mako’s shoulder. “Hey. You know I’ll love you no matter what, right?”

“Bolin-”

“Seriously. If you like Wu, it’s fine Mako. There’s nothing wrong with-”

“I don’t!” Mako cried, trying to ignore his heart sitting at the bottom of his stomach. “Like Wu. I don’t like him. I’m…” No, he was not going to cry. Mako did not cry, or get confused, or falter on anything. Mako was composed and strong. “I’m straight.” He’d made an attempt to sound content and unwavering, but his voice cracked on the last word and his eyes burned. Stop it Mako, this is stupid.

Bolin dropped it and the car ride home was silent. --- Mako had been to the Earth Kingdom once. A little over a year before his parents were killed, his family had taken a trip to Ba Sing Se. Apparently his father had to do some work there, but Mako didn’t really remember that part. He wished he did. Anyway, Mako kinda hated the city. Everything was so rigid and divided and there was something unsettling in the very air, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He was only 7, but he knew it was wrong, separating people like this. He hated it and he wanted to go home. 

About a week into the vacation, he’d gotten lost while out in the busy shopping center of the middle ring (his family wasn’t rich, but they were well off enough to afford a hotel room in the middle ring.) Practical even at 7 years old, Mako had planted himself at the front of a little tea shop and held his head high to try and seem intimidating. He’d tugged on the sleeve of the shop owner and asked in his most mature voice if the man could use the loudspeaker to report Mako’s location so his family could find him. And he waited. 

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but it wasn’t his fault that they people at the table near him were talking so loudly.

“...hear what happened in the fire nation last month?”

“Yes! It’s revolting.”

Mako strained his ears, he wanted to know what was revolting!

“The fire nation citizens are practically rejoicing, the poor souls can’t even recognize how unnatural it is.”

“Legalizing same sex marriage.” The person had scoffed very loudly. “Next thing we know they’ll be letting us marry furniture.”

Mako’s parents, and Bolin had walked in after that, hugging Mako in relief and scolding him for wandering off. Mako took it all in stride, like any 7 year old would, and went right back to his trip. But that overheard conversation stuck with him, whether he entirely realized it or not. It stuck with him at 8 when he found himself thinking that boy in his class was pretty, and at 13 when he found himself wanting to run his hands through the hair of a boy that he and Bolin hung around for a brief time. Even after those old-fashioned, bigoted notions had been set right, and after he saw Korra and Asami so happy together, it stuck with him. Maybe not in the way that made him actively hate gay people, but certainly in the way that made him sub-consciously hate himself. --- Bolin’s selfless act of dropping the subject didn’t last very long, nor did it stay very private, as he announced over breakfast the next morning: “So, Mako, I’ve decided to invite Wu over today. To, y’know hang out.”

Mako promptly choked on his moon peach and turned to his brother in dismay, still coughing violently. “You- why???” He cried.

“Well, he’s my friend!” Bolin replied grinning horrifyingly large.

“No he’s- Bolin you hate him!”

Lin, who had been sitting at the end of the table quietly, raised an eyebrow and Mako was sure that she was once again, wondering what possessed her to take them in 3 years ago. “Isn’t Wu that annoying little shit that paid his way into the advanced theater class?”

“He didn’t-”

“That’s the one,” Bolin replied, shoving the remainder of his food in his mouth. 

Lin groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine, but keep Mako’s little boyfriend out of my way.”

“Lin!” Mako shouted. “He’s not- I just met him- I’m-”

“You’re straight, yup, I said the same thing when I was your age.” She clapped Mako on the shoulder and smiled in the same strange way she did when she was about to try and fail to give him advice. Like someone had pinned boulders to each of her feet and was threatening to kill her if she didn’t smile. --- Mako didn’t give a fuck what he was wearing that day. He had not picked out that one shirt that he’d accidentally crashed into a perfume barrel while wearing that one time because it still smelled like jasmine. Well, not on purpose anyway. In his defense, it was a nice shirt; a soft, black button up with red stitching and buttons that he’d been given as a gift last year. He adjusted the collar, which had a habit of sticking out in all the wrong ways, and debated on whether or not to tuck it into his loose, grey jeans. The ones he’d bought right after receiving his first ever paycheck working at Narook’s. They weren’t much, but they were durable and- what? Why is he thinking about his clothes? He’s not trying to impress anyone, spirits! Mako groaned and buried his face in his hands. Stupid, Mako, you have no reason to dress up… Maybe do slip on that nice red coat though- no! He stopped himself before kicking a hole in the wall, deciding on a simple sigh of defeat and sinking to the ground fighting back tears that were pricking threateningly at the corners of his eyes. This was absurd. He didn’t like Wu, hell he could hardly tolerate him. That was a lie, that was a lie and he knew it. But hey, internalized homophobia will do that to you, won’t it? 

Mako wiped furiously at his eyes, gritting his teeth, because this was ridiculous! I’m straight, I’m straight, I’m straight, I’m straight, I’m… He shut his eyes as tight as he could manage, locking his thoughts away neatly in a box, like he did with all significant emotions. If it wasn’t about school or survival it was unimportant, trivial. He locked it away with his anxieties about Lin getting tired of him and kicking him out, his memories from before it all went to shit, and everything else. He was not having a sexuality crisis, nope!

“Mako?” Bolin knocked gently on the door, but as was customary with them, it was more of a warning than a question. He walked in and upon seeing Mako curled up in the corner, sat beside him. “Mako-”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“Mako that’s what you always say when you really need to talk but don’t know how,”

“No it’s not.”

“Yea, it is, dude. C’mon, you know I’ve just been messing with you.”

“Yea.”

“Mako!” Bolin’s face was crunched up exactly how it always was when Mako got like this. “I don’t see why you can’t just talk to me! Do you think I’m gonna judge you for whatever emotions you’re failing at hiding?”

“Bolin…” Mako’s mouth hung open, but he couldn’t make the words come out. “It’s just.” He hardened his jaw and breathed in slowly, steadily. “It’s…”

“I know. Well actually, technically I don’t, but uh… I can try, I guess.” He sighed as if searching for the right words. “Look Mako, I have no idea what you’re going through right now, but we’re brothers. You can talk to me. I understand not telling Lin, cause she’s not exactly Ms. Advice, but you can tell me things.”

“I know,” Mako whispered, but his tone was stiff. He wasn’t gonna talk about it, not yet at least. But it was nice, knowing for sure that no one was gonna hate him when he finally was ready to talk. Not that he didn’t know that before, but…

“I’m gonna go, and… uh, Wu couldn’t make it, by the way. He’s busy. But I didn’t think you’d wanna have anyone over right now… anyway.”

Mako watched as the door shut behind Bolin and he leaned back until his head rested on the cold wall. He wondered if he might get stuck there if he stayed still for long enough. He also wondered how long it would take for his brain to sort things out. Lastly, he wondered if it was possible to go to Ba Sing Se to find those people that had single-handedly ignited a flame in his mind that over the years, had  grown into a fire large enough to seep into all his thoughts and emotions and burn them to ash. He wanted to hit those people. He wanted to cry full on, big, ugly tears and not feel guilty about it. He wanted to stop feeling guilty about everything, blaming it all on himself because it was easier to carry the burden of everyone’s mistakes than to face his own demons that couldn’t seem to shut the fuck up. --- “You heard from that Lee girl recently?”

“Nope. Not since she started running numbers for the Agni Kais.”

“The Agni Kais? But isn’t she…”

A soft, almost mournful chuckle rang through the alley. Mako pressed himself further against the crates. He’d just come to get some food for Bolin, he hadn’t meant to run straight into Triple Threat Triad territory. But this conversation didn’t seem threatening at all. It seemed sad. 

“Yea, she was. I heard they didn’t take too kindly to it. Don’t know why she joined to begin with. ‘S no secret the Agni Kais won’t hesitate to strike down anyone like her.”

“Desperate for money, the girl was almost starved.”

“Probably. I would’ve given her somethin’.”

“You…”

“Don’t go ‘round telling people, but I got a soft spot for the kid. She was smart, that little girlfriend of hers too.”

Mako’s heart was spiraling in his chest. Strike down people like her, little girlfriend… he felt like he was gonna be sick. He knew Lee. She was just a couple years older than him, had only been on the streets for two months after he parents had kicked her out. She was the only homeless kid he knew that had a phone, and she’d let him play games on it when he got overwhelmed. And she was gone. They’d done what? Killed her just cause she liked girls. They hurt people like her. They hurt people like that. They… he curled in on himself, biting his lip to stop the tears. They hurt people like him. --- Mako hadn’t smoked since he was 15. He’d picked up the habit when he was young and stupid and so so scared. It’d helped with the emotions that were too big and too complicated. But a couple years ago, Lin had found his cigarette stash and fake ID. She confiscated it all, saying that she may have no clue what she was doing, but she sure as hell knew that 15 year olds weren’t supposed to be smoking. That was the end of it. It was easier anyway, to not smoke. It was easier when he had  a roof over his head and a guaranteed meal every night. 

It wasn’t hard to get more, he knew that Lin kept some stashed away for when her sister came to visit and she needed an excuse to go outside, away from everyone. Su said it was a disgusting habit, and Lin would point out that Su hadn’t thought that when she was 16. Mako always tuned out the argument right about then. 

The smoke plumed around him and he began to remember how he got addicted to this stuff. There was ash, sparks in his throat and he wondered if he would breathe fire when he exhaled. Wondered if a flame licking at his throat would make him feel alive in the way that didn’t terrify him. 

He had planted himself on the roof of the apartment building, knowing that he could easily lean back the wrong way and go tumbling off. He considered it for a moment, then took another drag on his cigarette. It was cold and he’d left his coat inside. He brought the withering cigarette up to his hand, almost leaving a burn mark on his palm, desperate for warmth. Maybe if he stayed out here long enough, the smoke would consume him until he was ash in the wind. Maybe that would be easier.

---

chapter 4

[bigtstreaming]

How to Build an Empire

ello loves, here is the writing i’ve been teasing. it’s not very plot oriented (more of like a summary of certain events if that makes sense. idk just... read it and you’ll see what i mean). it’s just loosely edited because if i stare at something i do too much i will scream <3 also it’s quite long. enjoy:3

Six months and twenty-two days they have been underground or at least that’s what the tallies carved into the wall read. Six months and twenty-two days since they lost everything; everything they built from the ground up. Wilbur could still remember how the cotton of his shirt stuck to him (before he had to cut it up for bandages), as the sun poured down on him while he watched his son tear down everything he created. A few iron picks and a few hours was all it took to destroy everything they had worked for. The fear in Tubbo’s eyes as he received a heavy pat on the back, his new rank already weighing heavy on his shoulders, haunted all of their dreams. Months later, and the ghost of that hand would still be with him. 

Six months and twenty-two days since his feet bled and cried out in pain, running for miles and miles as they were chased with crossbows and swords, their heads wanted on a silver platter just in time for dinner. If he had gotten everything he wanted, he would’ve personally made sure both of their heads were stuck to each end of his horns, displaying his trophies.

Miles on top of miles they ran. Going from biome to biome to escape them, hiding behind logs and camouflaging with the leaves. The panic he felt when he thought he had lost Tommy while trudging through the Taiga was something he never wanted to experience again- how his heart completely dropped into his stomach like a boulder when his ears rang upon hearing his words.

“My first decree as the president of L’manberg, the emperor of this great country, is to revoke the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit.”

But that was six months and twenty-two days ago. Never again did Tommy have to worry about tripping over his laces as he ran through the tunnel of purple wood. He would never get to walk across the wooden path to his hole in the wall home. His rollercoaster would remain out of business, the tracks slowly rusting. Twigs and sticks wouldn’t scrape his legs as he ran to hide from the hunters, Techno breathing heavy as his side. The baby blue color of his eyes had fallen down, just like the country’s walls and the day’s light. The bright eyed kid he used to be was trapped under the impenetrable shell that the hardships of war had created. He banged and cried out underneath to come out, but still it remained with nothing but a scratch on it.

Six months and twenty-two days spent in their new home. Every day they spent doing all they could to survive. It had started as just a room in a hill, hidden away from the naked eye. A banner behind the door to avoid anyone seeing the light that would emit from the furnaces and torches. 

The three of them remembered the first night very clearly. They were curled up in the corner of the square room, the only light coming from out the door- the moon was shining through. Huddled together underneath Techno’s robe they sat in silence, waiting for someone, anyone, to take the risk and speak. The cheeks of Wilbur were dried with tears and Techno’s scattered with dirt. Tommy silently cried and prayed the tears would stop, but they hadn’t. As soon as they ducked in the mountain and his heavy breathing had stopped, the tears had started. He had lost all he had ever known. Not only was the country he helped build being taken over by a dictator disguised as a president, he had lost his best friend to this creature, nay monster. What hurt the most was that it was all his fault- he had pushed to allow him back onto the lands. And here he was, exiled from all he had ever known and stuck in a cave with a depressed ex-president and someone who had just entered, solely to help them. 

“We need to reestablish ourselves.” Wilbur finally spoke, his voice hoarse from dehydration and exhaustion. 

“This is our home now. We have to accept that.” He says again, his dark eyes look over to Techno and Tommy, the only way they could see the pleading look was because of the moon above.

Tommy’s palms swipe away the tears from his cheeks and he gives a small sniffle before deciding to speak.

“How do we do that, Wilbur? I mean all we have is some iron armor and tools, Technoblade, and a skeleton horse that I stole. We lost everything, we even lost Tubbo.” His voice was drenched with despair and hopelessness and went down to a barely audible whisper at the mention of his best friend.

“You've seen me fucking build a nation, Tommy, I'll do it again.” His voice pierced them directly in the chest like the arrows they narrowly escaped from had tried to just hours before. 

They quickly grew out of this room and had to move deeper underground, not only for expansion but for safety. It wasn’t hard to get a layout, for as soon as they started mining they almost immediately hit the ravine. Techno called out to be careful as the stone fell dozens of blocks down, only then did he realize it was safe when he heard the splash of the rock in water. 

And so this is where they would be forced to stay, hundreds of blocks below ground. They stayed at the top of the ravine, gathering the easily accessible iron and coal, gathering around the furnace for warmth while they sat on the cold stone. For a while the biggest debate was whether or not to use their uniform jackets as pillows or blankets for the night. Empty stomachs were common and the taste of rotten flesh was something that was acquired. 

The food status was what almost broke them. Days on end their stomachs whined and groaned at the lack of subsistence, and curling in disgust when their cries were listened to- only to be met with the rancid taste of rotten flesh. Occasionally they’d crack out one of the carrots they smuggled, but those were low and they had to preserve them as long as they could, especially if they had hoped to somehow regrow them. 

Techno still recalls the way he fell to his knees in tears when he found a minecart. He tore open the chest with such force and what was in it made him yelp out in joy- melons. Three melons sat in the chest. Screw the saddle and diamond, three melons just sitting there, untouched and uneaten. Suddenly the fatigue he had felt for the last week had disappeared, and he swept everything from the chest in one foul swoop before sprinting back to his two partners in crime. 

His always steady hands haven’t stopped shaking since he ran at Tommy’s side in the middle of the woods, away from a man in full netherite and an enchanted crossbow. His head, always held up straight and strong on his head, dangled down, its eyes always on the lookout. It was a new experience for him, to live in constant terror and to be taken off the throne he was so used to living on. Kicked down onto his knees with tears welled up in his eyes, the once fearless leader had to accept what he had become; he had become a man of fear, consumed by it’s slick, fingers, carrying his around like a puppet on strings

Three melons, enough for each of them to all have one. Techno thought that the sweet and juicy taste was only a dream that his tongue had handcrafted for him to escape the acerbic and sharp taste of the flesh. But as he held the slices in his hand, he had realized that his tongue had not mistaken him because his eyes were staring right at the pink flesh. His fingertips could feel how smooth the green rind was. So, they sat in silence and slowly ate the watermelon, the slight sweetness was enough to melt them. One by one they took methodical bites, trying their best to make it last as long as possible. Although there wasn’t a lot of flavor, compared to the previous meal of undead meat, this was five stars. Wilbur swatted Tommy as he saw the boy take quick small nibbles.

“If you eat it too fast you’ll get sick, that’s the last thing we need.” He looked at the boy and his sunken cheeks that the malnourishment has caused and his heart began to crack. His skin, already pale, had gotten even lighter from the lack of sun. The darkness that took over his eyes made him seem dead. He looked as if he was going to shed his skin and become one of the skeletons they had to avoid in the cave. As much as he wanted to flick Tommy and poke jabs at the boy, he was just a kid, just a kid who didn’t deserve to be living like this. None of them deserved it, but to watch his young spirit and commitment to L’Manberg slowly fade and betray him, it made him ache. 

Techno was the one who proposed a farm. However, a farm meant going deeper into the ravine, something that was a scary unknown. They needed the water source for the watermelon seeds, and Techno calculated that with how many zombies they had killed, they should be getting a potato from them any time soon. The carrots they had smuggled when first exiled were close to becoming completely moldy and un-replantable. 

It was a tedious and daunting task getting deeper into the ravine. As much as they knew that there was water below them, they couldn’t be sure how deep the water was or what could be lurking beneath the surface. Carefully Wilbur mined while Techno was behind him, sword in hand, ready to attack anything that might come out. Tommy carried the caboose, trying his damndest to not let his hands shake their only light source around too much. 

And their system worked, Wilbur mined, Techno guarded, and Tommy reminded them that despite each other being all they had, punting the kid down into the water didn’t seem like such a bad idea. It was a long process to get down, it took them a couple nights. The sweet taste of the watermelon was only enough to keep them in high spirits for a couple days, until the small seeds in their pockets just began a constant taunt and tease of what they would only ever have once. 

But as they had done once before, they had done again and Pogtopia was becoming a reality. Carrots and watermelon seeds were sowed into the ground, small green tips peeking out of the ground and instead of everything being in overflowing, disorganized chests, their supplies were relocated to a naturally occurring, carved out cover perfect for lots of organized chests. When a couple days had gone by with absolutely no food, because none of the fruit or vegetables were ready for harvest and no rotten flesh was to be found or gathered, Techno and Wilbur had decided to brave the outside world to gather seeds and prayed that there would be some fish in the nearby sea. 

They snuck out in the pitch black night, the few stars above were the only light they had. Carefully they trudged through the terrain, quietly they broke random pieces of grass, cautious to avoid leaving a large dry spot to avoid detection. Armed with nothing but fishing poles and iron swords, they tip toed until their sore feet sunk into the grainy land and they could smell the saltwater. Tommy, alone in the cave, curled up in the pile of grass and closed his eyes. He was so hungry and sore and tired. Never in his life had he ever experienced these feelings at such an intensity, and it was getting to him. There wasn’t a day where he didn’t miss the banters with Tubbo or the nights spent sharing a steak while they planned for the future of L’manberg. How foolish he was to think that could last he thought. He tried not to beat himself up over it, for he was just a child, but he had taken this larger than life role, and he should've known. 

Wilbur carefully swung the pole and it’s tip landed in the water with a slight plop. He sat there and waited for anything to take a bite, whether a minnow or a giant tuna, he was desperate. Techno’s eyes scanned all the terrain around him, keeping watch that no one was near while Tubbo’s eyes kept darting all around the wooden room. From Niki, to the windows, to the door, to the fabric, and back to Niki, they couldn’t stay in one place for long. The oak wood walls almost felt like they were closing in on him, but he knew they weren’t because every time he had come back here he had felt the same claustrophobic feeling and every time he left, still being able to breathe. His leg bounced and Niki noticed.

“If you keep acting so on edge, Schlatt’s going to notice.” Her hands moved delicately as she weaved a needle with thread in and out of the fabric before she finished the last of the stitches. She carefully folded the last creation and added it to the bag with the other two. 

Three wool blankets, colored pink, blue, and red. As soon as she heard that they were underground, Niki knew she had to give them some sort of comfort item, knowing how cold it can get when you’re below the surface. When Tubbo had told her he was in cahoots with them, she was worried what would not only happen to them, but to Tubbo. If Schlatt finds out...she didn’t even want to think about what could happen, knowing what he was capable of. 

So she worked in silence alongside Tubbo. He would go over and drop off supplies, such as bread or wood when they ran low. Niki would help provide these along with an alibi for Tubbo because if one were to ask he had taken a sudden interest in baking and working for her at the bakery. 

“I can’t help it.” Tubbo takes the bag from Niki and is about to run out before he’s stopped. 

“Here, give them this as well.” She hands him a tin box of bread and multiple chops of mutton wrapped in paper and tied with twine that was itself tied to be a bow.

“Thank you, Niki.” He shoved them into the bag and left the bakery, careful to sneak out the back exit. 

He ran. He ran because his life depended on it. He ran because the livelihood of three people he cared about most in the world depended on it. He ignored the sweet berries that scratched his legs and the twig in his shoe that every time he moved painfully stabbed his foot. He ignored how his lungs burned, begging for a break and while he knew he didn’t have to run- Schlatt was out of town after all- but for an operation of nothing but risks, he didn’t want to jeopardize himself now.

He ran because he hoped his feet would spell out an apology and write a letter of forgiveness. Not only for his friends, but for himself- he never slept alone for the ghosts of guilt and depression lay by his side. They whispered to him all their disappointments and taunted him while he prayed for sleep to overcome him. Every day he got up and these ghosts put on the black suit and patent leather shoes. And every morning, they shined his shoes and adjusted the red tie, his eyes would be glued to the white shirt with yellow buttons in the back of his closet; the blue jacket with brown shoulder pads calling his name. 

But he had no time to reflect on all that went wrong, he had to focus on where he was going and what he was going to tell the three exiles. He and Schlatt had been gone for a couple months away on business, and he had not been able to warn them of his leaving before he was whisked away. Right at his return he decided to tell Niki. She was glad that they were safe, but her heart yearned for their safety. Schlatt had another business trip and had wanted to take Tubbo with him again, but Tubbo was able to safely weasel his way out of it.

That’s how he ended up out of breath and knocking three times on a wooden door hidden in a mountain, pausing before knocking four times. He adjusted the cloth bag on his shoulder and his eyes darted around him once more. Nothing but trees surrounded the small home in a mountain, they were miles and miles away from any civilization. The river where they’d sneak out to fish at night was quiet, only the slight movement of the water traveling north could be heard alongside the rustle of the leaves in the trees around. The area was lifeless other than the shrubbery, not even a chicken ran by. If he didn’t face the possibility of death from standing where he was, he would’ve found it to be quite peaceful.

He almost jumped upon hearing the door open but was met with the eyes of the man he hadn’t seen him months. They had the same dullness to them that they had the first time Tubbo saw them after they ran. The fear they originally held upon hearing the exile announcement had vanished, for he had now done all he could to come to terms with it. Wilbur’s hair was already quite long and shaggy, but it was now tenfold that. The messy curls were past his ears and he had done his best to tie back what he could with string, but the unruly strands had other plans. He donned the same white cotton shirt with yellow buttons as he had before along with the blue jacket with brown shoulder pads, but Tubbo could see that the once pristine shirt had it’s sleeves torn off and the once pristine white color was now shades darker. 

And he felt bad. Standing there with a freshly ironed suit and shoes so shiny you could see the helpless man’s reflection in it. They could’ve stood there for hours, staring at each other in silence, but Wilbur grabbed his arm and pulled him before closing the door and putting the banner back over it. 

The small room was practically the same as it was the first time Tubbo had seen it. But now instead of furnaces covering one wall and disorganized chests, only one double chest and a crafting table were placed. The makeshift bed made from grass, tied together with string, was no longer there. A single torch sat on the crafting table, just barely lighting up the room. What stood out to the boy in the suit was the two by one doorway with a staircase leading down. He tried not to let his attention stay at the entrance, but it was hard when he wondered what they could possibly have down there. 

Wilbur looked at the small boy and held back a giggle. He remembers laughing at how he looked in the revolutionary uniform, like a child wanting to dress up as his hero. While seeing him in the clearly custom tailored suit should’ve terrified the outlaw, it reminded him of that time, a time where . He was just a child who had gotten into his father’s wardrobe, he told himself. But deep down he knew the power he held and the danger he was in, suit and all. The menacing laugh the dictator would give out as he held his head up to the audience, instilling fear into any who ever doubted what lengths he’d go to make sure no one betrayed him.

Instead he pulled the boy into a hug, his head resting on top of him- he could smell the clean scent of the shampoo he used and the nose curling cologne he adopted from his leader. Tubbo’s face was planted directly into his chest and he held back a gag at the foul scent of him. They missed each other because as much as he was self declared at Tommy’s Tubbo and as much as Schlatt declared that Tubbo was now his, he was their Tubbo. The boy who wanted nothing more than to create something with his friends.

Wilbur didn’t want to think about how long he embraced the boy. He missed him with every fiber of his being and wanted to apologize for everything he ever said about him, but he just couldn’t find the words. Instead he let go and directed him down the stairs to the place where the three villains had poured their new hearts and souls into for the last few months. Carefully they navigated the spiral cobble steps before reaching the end. 

Tubbo’s eyes widened upon seeing the ravine, stopped in his tracks at the end of the windy staircase. The ravine was thin but seemed as tall as a skyscraper. Vines grew down from the ceiling, some with glowberries, so that those on the ground floor who looked up felt like they were stargazing. The green of the vines were the only semblance of color other than the yellow glow from the torches haphazardly placed.

The bottom was just water with lily pads scattered on the surface and thin paths of cobble and stone were at the edges of the water. Stacks of cobble and other stones were piled in corners and against walls, pebbles occasionally rolling down into the stream, creating small ripples in the otherwise motionless water. Alongside these mounds were boxes filled with all kinds of monster loot, from gunpowder to bones, they had it all.

Up above him, empty, rickety bridges swung back and forth, the structures only being held together with wood slabs and string. Their brown color contrasting the murky green strings surrounding them. From where he was standing he could see multiple entrances to different sections of the cave. 

Tubbo adjusted the bag on his shoulders, the bundles of wood were heavy on this shoulder. Wilbur was doing his best to be patient, but he drooled because he could still smell the freshly baked bread and his stomach grumbled, his nose knowing that the boy also held some mutton with him. For far too long they ate the tasteless carrots and potatoes; sometimes they’d have flavorless fish when two of the boys braved the open world at nighttime. The watermelons had just recently been ripe enough to harvest, and they savored the taste like they did that first night, but there wasn’t enough sustenance in the fruit to only eat that. 

Wilbur led him to the kitchen and dining, making sure Tubbo was careful to trip and fall into the water. His eyes couldn’t focus on just one thing, they darted all around the base. He could see glimpses of chests and barrels, the reflection of shiny iron swords would catch his attention before dulling back down. Smoke from furnaces and torches twirled up to the roof and collected at the top. The same wall that had the windy staircase was also covered in scratched in tallies, hundreds of them lined the wall.

The kitchen and dining was a naturally carved out cove filled with the warm lighting that was in every ‘room’ of the cave. It was the warmest area in the whole place, other than the smelting room which truth be told just got uncomfortably and unbearably hot. Hand crafted, poorly made cupboards and countertops lined the opposing uneven stone walls. In the corner there was an uneven wooden table and matching uneven wood chairs to accompany it. Tubbo instantly plopped the heavy bag on the table and panicked when the table began to tip. 

“You have to be careful.” Wilbur darts over to stop the tragedy, carefully maneuvering the bag so that it sat on the table in such a way to not disturb the warped sense of gravity it had. 

Tubbo peaked behind Wilbur to see across from where they were, he could see a room with deep amber chests and chestnut barrels that held all the supplies they had accumulated. He watched as Tommy emerged from somewhere above the storage room and effortlessly scaled down a set of ladders to shove some cobble in a chest that he had to use all of his strength to get shut. Behind him he could hear the clink of the bread tin and the ruffling of the wrapped mutton as the older man moved the meat into the ice box. Wilbur was about to ask Tubbo just where he managed to find bedding, but Tommy’s booming voice interrupted. 

“Tubbo!” He looks across from where he had just stuffed cobble to see the small boy in clothes meant for people three times his age.

“Tommy!”

 Their eyes lock and big grins overtake their faces. Quickly he drops his pickaxe and hops across the lily pads before flopping onto the stone in front of his best friend.

Before they had time to blink, they were engulfed in a giant hug, and Tommy smelt worse than the man before had, but it was something Tubbo just chose to look over. His blond hair too had grown out of control, but unlike Wilbur he didn’t make an attempt to tie it back. His once long and beige trousers were now muddied shorts, the torn fabric could be seen fastened around his calf, a red spot peeking through. But what stuck out to him the most was that the dark eyes he so clearly remembers seeing in the days after the exile, were slowly regaining their once bright glow. Now flecks of the light blue were sprinkled around his irises. 

Tommy led the newcomer around and Tubbo’s eyes widened upon every new thing he was shown. Never had he seen such innovation and never did he think Tommy or Wilbur could achieve such a thing. It wasn’t their first time building an empire, sure, but it was their first time truly creating something that went beyond what everyone had thought they were capable of. 

He was shown most of the base, first being a room filled with an automatic smelting machine, minecarts clunking back and forth as they picked up what resources the furnaces dropped. Coal dust coated the ground and every other surface in the room, all the smoke making it difficult for Tubbo to breathe, coughing as soon as he took a breath in the room.

“I wish I could say you get used to all that, but you really don’t.” He grabbed his friend’s arm and kept going on the tour. 

Tommy quickly skipped past the sleeping quarters, more embarrassed than anything to show him the small room with three grass and hay beds, all squeezed next to each other. While the torch in the room provided some heat, they had to sleep close because the stone walls held no warmth, especially in the winter times. Techno’s cloak lay across all the beds as a makeshift duvet. 

What really took the boy’s breath away was the longest branch from the main ravine, where if you stuck to the path it led you to a small pond surrounded by lush underground greenery. A small spurt of water would trickle into the pond, adding to the ambiance. Two giant spore blossoms were there on opposing sides, the light yellow particles seemed like glitter falling to the sky, only complimenting the star appearance of the glow berries hanging from vines. String was woven above the pond, where miscellaneous clothing items hung to dry after an attempt was made to wash them. Azalea bushes lined the back wall of the pond where the water flowed out of, some of its petals falling into the light blue water. Tommy explains how this is where they do the washing, going on about how they want to designate certain water sources for certain things, or something of that nature. 

“The dripleaf plant is a killer, we always forget that if you stand on it too long you begin to fall.” He pauses. “Okay, well I forget. Techno and Wilbur are good about remembering it.”

This wasn’t just a base or a home or a means of survival, it was an entire operation. Tubbo didn’t need to be shown the dozens of secret tunnels and rooms (not that he would be shown them anyway) to know that they existed. He knew that every plan had at least three more backups, and backups for the backups. This had gone beyond presidency and exile- everyone knew that. The second Jschlatt had taken the mic and spit out his rules, policies, and decrees, everything that everyone was fighting for had changed.

Life inside Manberg had shifted, the tensions so high a spoon would cut it too easily. Everywhere you went you felt like eyes were watching you. Eret would watch how Tubbo would jump at the drop of a pin or Fundy would notice how Niki made more bread than usual. HBomb would hear the pitter patter of feet run by and see the flash of brown hair run by, but chose to ignore it. Skeppy closed his blinds whenever he saw the young boy begin to climb a tree to get a jar of honey. But Schlatt was oblivious to these clues, while he kept an eye on Quackity and Tubbo, he wasn’t able to notice these subtle shifts. He knew Tubbo was an oddball, but didn’t realize that his leg bounced because he worried that he had brought too little bread last weekend. Or that he refused to wear shorts that one week when it was so hot it was insufferable to do anything because his legs were so cut up from falling into a bushel of sweet berries. And Quackity spent too much of his time glued to Schaltt that he wouldn’t have had the freetime to pay attention to these things. 

But as Tubbo and Tommy arrived back to the dining, tin cups of water and plates of bread on the shaky table, he felt lighter. Techno braided his hair while Wilbur spoke of something they had not been caught up on yet, grabbing butter out of the ice box. Tommy ran past Tubbo and hopped onto a chair in the back of the table (almost knocking it over) to grab a slice of unbuttered bread, Techno abandoning his task for a second to hold down the table so that the boy didn’t ruin their meal.

The cleanly dressed man had just taken a seat at the table when he realized why he had felt lighter, and wondered how it couldn’t have caught it sooner. A sense of home, safety is what he felt when he entered past the staircase. Above ground, he was a criminal betraying his leader and country, all eyes on him as he snuck around. But below ground, all those things stayed above him, something above ground Tubbo would have to deal with; he figured the ghosts could help him carry that feeling back to the base for him. Right now all he wanted to do, was tell his friends how to survive and dethrone Schlatt.

[nice-bright-colors]

Warning: Rant Straight Ahead

So the beauty of cell phones is that you can silence them. There is also a common practice these days by a lot of cell phone users - text first then call. Another beauty of cell phone etiquette and courtesy - is to not answer a call at any given time.

Since I’ve been furloughed, my phone doesn’t ring. I’m not constantly glued to a computer, or emailing, or texting, or on the phone. I was all that for about 12 hours a day straight. She was amazed and flabbergasted about how much I did on the phone. It’s been 2 months of nothing. In fact the only real communication Or contact I have with people is here, and there’s really only a handful of people to boot.

She has texts from: 1) her sisters - sometimes individual often in a group. 2) a couple of friends from Chicago - sometimes as individuals often as a group. 3) drunk lady who lives in our condo building. 4) former coworker who moved to CO years ago. 5) former coworker who moved to PNW. 6) Good friend/ former coworker about to retire. 7) the husband of #6. 8) my friend who lives in Denver - who doesn’t contact me. In addition she has befriended a dude and his dog and always takes Jack out to see them in the park. Then there’s another person, who moved here from Chicago and (his) puppy who is problematic- and meets up with them at the park. Finally, there is the stranger who really needed help with his Pittie - so she spent an hour last weekend training him & the dog.

We don’t really do much together and it would be nice to have a conversation or something else. Today we drove around Boulder after picking up more frozen duck for Jack to eat. He freaked out when her phone rang. Of course she took the call in the middle of our conversation/ drive/ exploring new area/ isn’t this nice? No. Windows had to be rolled up, he got too hot, then she motions for me to do something, but I’ve got a dog freaking out in the back seat, traffic cutting me off- etc. I really don’t want to hear both sides of your fucking conversation with your fucking sister about said sister’s dog and its fucking anal gland issue right now. Why did you have to answer the phone while riding in a car with another person.

I have a rare problem in that I cannot tune anything out. I’m hyper aware of my surroundings at all times. While having dinner with someone in a restaurant I can usually hear all aspects of the conversation behind me, pay attention to the person in front of me, see the verbal cues and possible sounds from the people in front of me - and let’s not talk about the sides. It’s painful to live with.

In addition I get to hear questions like - ‘did you see (redacted’s) post on (enter social media type)? Yes. In fact, let’s just draw that line right now. Chances are higher if you’re going to ask me if I’ve seen something.

I HAVE NOTHING TO FUCKING DO ALL FUCKING DAY LONG!!!!

The absolute best is when someone here sends me a message and my sounds are on. “What’s that noise?”

Never you mind. Don’t you have some group text chat bitching session about some bullshit to deal with? Oh boy - look at that....It appears to be Fletcher’s car he must have Pi over at the park. (Guess where she is right now).

I’m just tired of being left to my own devices. I just want to have a little social connection and conversation. I understand this could be here normal daily routine - and quarantine/ lockdown hasn’t changed anything for her.

I just want my needle to move off of zero. It would be nice if that could happen with the person I’m living with. Then again, maybe it’s rude of me to expect undivided attention when clearly I’ve not reciprocated that over the years.

I certainly don’t want to hear both sides of educating a 70-something person about the intricacies of some dogs anal glands. Please leave that shit for some time when I’m not around.

Rant over. Carry on.

[spn-safeandsound]

02. Saving the Day

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x02; Wendigo

Word Count: 8,436

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy! Reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

"Dean, please."

"Nope."

"I'll do anything."

"No fucking way, Junior."

"Oh, Dean, come on!" Julia whined, falling back against her seat. "Just one song. You'll like it, I swear."

"I'm not listening to Mariah Carey or Carrie Underwear," Dean scowled at her in the rearview mirror.

"Well, I don't even like country, so..." she shook her head. "And I think you would like Fall Out Boy."

"I think I wouldn't," Dean retorted.

"What about Elton John?" Julia raised her eyebrows at him. "He has older music. My mom loved him."

Dean's face visibly softened when she spoke about her mother. He knew she missed her, especially since the fourth anniversary of her death was coming up. He didn't blame her. Naomi Petersen was a great lady and had treated him and Sam as her own, even though she already had four children to take care of. He could still remember the taste of her famous peach cobbler. He wasn't usually a cobbler man, either, but he couldn't turn down Naomi's food.

"Fine," he gave in reluctantly; Elton John wasn't that bad anyway. "but only one."

The smile that Julia gave him was worth more than one song but he kept quiet, not wanting to give away complete control of his music. If Julia knew that flashing a smile would get her whatever she wanted from him—like it did for the rest of the world—he was done for.

Julia dug her cassette jack that she bought at the last gas station out of her bag and practically climbed over the front seat. She was careful not to hit a sleeping Sam because he really needed the rest; he hadn't been sleeping much since Jess and she spent most of the nights they shared motel rooms making sure he was okay.

She set up the jack and plugged in her iPod, turning it to her mom's favorite song.

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band...

Julia let out a relaxed sigh as she practically melted back into her seat. She smiled softly as she listened to the lyrics, remembering all the times her mom sang this song to her while she was growing up.

Her mom had been a dancer for years in her childhood and well into her adulthood. That was how her parents met, actually. When she was in college, her mom was in a recital that her dad coincidentally went to during one of his earlier hunts. He used to tell Julia that he was mesmerized by her mother and that she really was his tiny dancer.

Hold me closer, tiny dancer...

Dean appreciated the silence that fell over Julia because it seemed like she was always talking. And she was actually staying still, a stark contrast to her chronic fidgeting that drove Sam nuts. What he appreciated more than that was the small and contented smile on her face. It seemed like it was the first time he saw that smile in days; she had been grieving Jess, too, and trying to take care of Sam at the same time.

Despite being two years younger than his little brother, she had always been one of his caretakers.

You had a busy day today...

Dean let her bask in the last few notes of the song and then unplugged the jack, passing it back to her without a word. Julia was just as silent as she took it from him, her lips turning up at the corners when he popped in one of his cassettes.

Sam awoke with a start as the drum beat kicked in. Dean gave him a hesitant look as Julia leaned forward worriedly.

"You okay?" she asked him, trying not to hover as much as she had been the last few days.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam answered groggily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Another nightmare?" it was Dean who asked this time.

Sam cleared his throat loudly, refusing to answer.

"You wanna drive for a while?" Dean offered.

Sam laughed in amazement. "Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that."

"Just thought you might want to," Dean shrugged casually. "Never mind."

Sam looked between Dean and Julia; he could easily read the worried look on Julia's face but Dean's was a little bit harder to decipher. "Look, guys, you're worried about me," he acknowledged. "I get and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

Dean hummed doubtfully. Sam looked back at Julia for her reaction but she just smiled sweetly and looked over to Dean, changing the subject as a distraction for Sam.

"You know, I can drive—"

"I don't think so, Julia," Dean cut her off, causing her to pout at him.

"All right," Sam chuckled and looked back at her. "where are we?"

"Um..." she looked at the handheld GPS that she was in charge of while Sam slept and found where they were. "we are just outside of Grand Junction."

Sam sighed and grabbed the GPS so he could look at the location of the coordinates John gave them. "You know what, maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

Dean blinked slowly; Sam always got so depressed when he brought up what happened to Jessica and it was starting to worry him. "Sam, we dug around there for a week and we came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—"

"We gotta find Dad first," Sam finished, having already heard this speech before.

"Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence," Dean theorized. "Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do."

Sam shook his head and focused on the device in his hands. "It's weird, man," he changed the subject and studied the map. "these coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge..."

"What about it?" Julia spoke up, leaning her chin on the front seat.

"There's nothing there," he informed her and Dean. "It's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

Dean didn't answer as they drove into the town of Lost Creek. They headed straight to the ranger's station so they could look at a 3-D model of the area around Blackwater Ridge.

"So, Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam sighed as he pointed at the location on the model. "It's cut off by these canyons here. Rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place."

Though Julia was listening curiously, Dean wasn't paying an ounce of attention. His focus was on the huge taxidermized grizzly bear on display.

"Dude, check out the size of this fucking bear!"

Julia smiled at his childlike amazement and added, "And I'm guessing a couple of grizzlies?"

"A dozen or so," Sam confirmed with a grin as they walked over to stand by Dean. "It's no nature hike, that's for sure."

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" a ranger walked up to them, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, no, sir," Sam assured him politely. "we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder. We're just working on a paper."

"Recycle, man," Dean held up a supportive fist.

"Bull," the ranger called them out, his eyes flitting to each one of them. "you're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

"Actually, we are," Julia played along, sending him a sweet smile. "Ranger Wilkinson."

The older man looked charmed by her, though not in a way that she considered sexual. Maybe he was just fond of a kind soul now or then.

"Well," Ranger Wilkinson's voice was considerably nicer, causing Sam and Dean to exchange impressed looks. "I will tell you exactly what I told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying her wouldn't be back from Blackwater Ridge until the twenty-fourth."

Julia nodded understandingly.

"It's not exactly a missing-persons, is it?" Ranger Wilkinson asked rhetorically. "You tell that girl to quit worrying. I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"We will," Dean promised with a smirk. "Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

The ranger nodded in agreement, grabbing his coffee mug off the large front desk. "That is putting it mildly."

"Actually, you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit," Dean said casually. "You know, so she could see her brother's return date."

"I'm sure that will calm her down," Julia added.

Dean had to admit it was nice having a pretty girl around to convince people to cooperate with them. Ranger Wilkinson melted at the pleading look Julia sent him and quickly copied the backcountry permit so they could take it to Haley. He gave it to her with a smile and a fond goodbye as they left the station.

"What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam asked Dean as they walked to the Impala.

Dean gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge," Sam pointed out. "so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

"I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?" Dean said obviously. He gave his brother that had Sam stiffening in irritation.

"What?"

"Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?"

"Since now," Sam's voice went flat.

Dean gave Sam an unimpressed look as he got into the car but before he open his mouth to speak again, Julia cut him off. Sam was delicate right now, no matter how tough he acted, and his emotions were all over the place. She didn't need the brothers to have a big blowout right now.

Dean sighed and got into the car. An hour later—after Dean stopped to make a fake ranger ID—they were knocking on the door of the address they got from Tommy Collins' backcountry permit.

The door opened and a pretty brunette a couple inches taller than Julia greeted them.

"You must be Haley Collins," Dean grinned at her. "I'm Dean and this is Sam and Julia. We're, uh, rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. We wanted to ask a few questions about your brother, Tommy."

Haley pressed her lips together as she looked them over. "Let me see some ID."

Dean pulled the fresh ID out of his wallet and presented it to her with a smile. Haley quickly looked it over and opened the screen door to let them into the house.

"Come on in," her eyes swept past Dean and locked on the Impala. "That yours?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Nice car," she said, impressed. She walked away from the door, leading them through the front room to the dining room. Julia and Sam exchanged eye rolls as Dean gave them a salacious grin, his eyes trailing to Haley's back.

There was a younger kid sitting at the table when they entered the dining room, frowning down at his placemat as he waited for his dinner to be served. He looked up when he heard their arrival and Julia smiled at him in greeting but his eyes quickly avoided her.

"So, if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked Haley as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a hot serving bowl.

"He checks in everyday by cell," Haley brought the bowl to the table. "He emails photos and stupid little videos. We haven't heard anything in over three days now."

"Maybe he can't get cell reception?" Julia suggested.

Haley shook her head. "He's got a satellite phone, too."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?"

The kid, Ben, looked up in offense at Dean's comment. "He wouldn't do that!"

Ben, who sounded much older than he looked, looked down, ashamed at his outburst. Julia gave him a reassuring smile, hoping that he wasn't feeling uncomfortable in his own home because of them.

"Our parents are gone," Haley informed the three of them. "It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other."

Julia knew a little of what that was like. Despite her dad being alive, he didn't check in with his children much. So, Julia, her brother, and her sisters all made sure they were okay in the meantime. Levi, the oldest twin and only son, always made sure they were all safe. Bethany, the oldest sister, mothered over Julia and Abby like it was her job. Abby, the middle child and previously the only hunter of the siblings, checked in to make sure everyone was keeping up on their self-defense and protective charms. And Julia did all of the above, just making sure that her siblings knew that she loved them more than anything. They didn't always get along but they were family—who didn't argue with their siblings?

From the look in Dean's eye, Julia knew that he could relate to Haley, too.

Sam nodded understandingly. "Can I see the pictures he sent you?"

"Yeah," Haley pulled out her laptop and pulled up the most recent video that her brother sent. A man a few years older than Haley with the same dark hair as his younger siblings flashed onto the screen. "That's Tommy."

"Hey, Haley," the video played. "Day six. We're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow."

Julia caught Sam making an intrigued face and wondered what he saw on the video that she or the others hadn't.

"Well, we'll find your brother," Dean assured Haley. "We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there," Haley replied; she saw the look of confusion Dean gave her. "Look, I can't sit around here anymore, so, I hired a guide. I'm heading out in the morning and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

"I think I know how you feel," Dean stated seriously.

"Hey," Sam interrupted the intense eye staring going on between Dean and Haley, gesturing toward the laptop. "do you mind forwarding these to me?"

"Sure," Haley agreed easily.

-

The bar they sat in for a late dinner was loud and filled with local college kids on Thanksgiving break. Julia was used to the loud scenery of college bars, though, being a college kid herself, and she had to admit the burgers she and Dean ordered were good. She was just paranoid that someone would catch on to the fact that she was underage—her fake was great but she was always worried every time she walked into a bar.

She didn't drink anything alcoholic just in case. She spent most of her time learning how to research the meticulous way that Sam likes it to be done, both of them searching for any local history of mysterious disappearances having to do with Blackwater Ridge.

"So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic," Sam told Dean as he sat down with a fresh beer. "Local campers, mostly. Still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found."

"Any before that?" Dean asked as Sam opened John's journal.

Julia cleared her throat, looking down at the local newspapers they had collected. "Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. The rangers said it was a grizzly attack."

She slid a newspaper over to Dean, the headline reading, UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA. HIKER'S DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES.

"And again in 1959 and again, before that in 1936," she finished. "Every twenty-three years this happens."

"Like clockwork," Sam commented, opening his laptop now. He moved it so Dean and Julia could see. "Okay, watch this. Here's the clincher. I downloaded that guy, Tommy's, video to the laptop. Check this out."

There was a video on the screen. Sam pressed play, showing a slowed-down version of Tommy's video. Julia's eyes widened in surprise when she saw a shadow move behind the missing man.

Dean blinked. "Do it again."

Sam played the frames again. "That's three frames," he told them. "That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move."

Dean excitedly hit Sam in the shoulder, a know-it-all expression on his face. "I told you something weird was going on."

Sam nodded in agreement, only looking a little annoyed by Dean's smugness.

"One more thing," Julia spoke up. "In fifty-nine, one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. It was a kid and he barely made it out alive."

Dean raised one eyebrow. "Is there a name?"

Julia smirked and passed him the newspaper.

-

The next morning, Julia, Dean, and Sam set out to find Haley and Ben before they could go up to Blackwater Ridge on their own. They carried multiple weapons because they weren't exactly sure what they were going up against.

The night before, after leaving the bar, they questioned the witness that Julia discovered. He was an old man now but his memory of the night his parents were killed by whatever was out there was still fresh in his mind. The bear—or what the rangers were calling a bear, anyway—had unlocked the cabin the man was staying at, slaughtering his parents while he was asleep. Dean thought that the creature might be a skinwalker or a black dog but he and Sam both agreed that whatever it was, it was corporeal.

Sam wasn't happy about their babysitting job but Dean wouldn't hear about leaving Haley and Ben to fend for themselves. He was adamant that they continue like any other case while Sam was just gunning to find his dad. Julia, on the other hand, went with the flow, not wanting to get in the middle of one of their notorious arguments.

Dean pulled the Impala up to the trail entrance where Haley, Ben, and an older man were talking. They got out of the car, Julia being the only one actually prepared for a long hike.

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean asked Haley as he locked his car.

"Wait, you want to come with us?" Haley said skeptically.

"Who are these guys?" the older man looked the three of them over with disdain—especially the duffle bag that Sam was carrying over his shoulder.

"Apparently, this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Haley informed him.

The man raised his eyebrows. "You're rangers?"

"That's right," Dean said confidently.

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?"

Julia smirked, having had the same argument with Sam and Dean before they left their motel room, and passed by her to stand with Sam. "I told him the same thing."

"I don't do shorts!" Dean called after her.

The man didn't look impressed with Dean's cocky tone. "Oh, you think this is funny? It's dangerous backcountry out there. Her brother might be hurt."

Julia turned back to Dean, begging him with her eyes not to lose his temper on the naïve man.

"Believe me, I know how dangerous this could get," Dean stated firmly. "We just wanna help her find her brother, that's all."

The group of them started up the trail, all six of them walking in a single-file line. Roy—the older man—led them with Haley and Dean in front, Julia and Ben in the middle, and Sam bringing up the rear.

As they hiked, Julia shared some of her trail mix with Ben, who was turning out to be a sweet kid. He didn't talk much—he was clearly very worried about his older brother—but he spoke with her a little about how his freshman year of high school was going.

"Roy," Dean spoke up about two hours into the hike. "you said you did a little hunting."

"Yeah," Roy answered reluctantly, clearly not wanting to talk to the younger man. "more than a little."

"Uh-huh," Dean wasn't bothered by the man's grumpiness. "What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly buck, sometimes bear."

Dean sped up, passing Roy in line. "Tell me, did Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?"

Roy didn't answer as he reached forward, grabbing the back of Dean's jacket to stop him from continuing. Julia and Sam stiffened, ready to intervene in case the men got a little violent.

"Whatcha doing, Roy?" Dean asked warningly.

Roy let go of his jacket and bent down, picking a stick up off the forest floor. He held it down to the ground, where there was a freaking bear trap, and pressed the stick into it. It popped up, chopping the stick in half.

Julia's eyes widened; Dean was about to step in that!

"You should watch where you're stepping, Ranger," Roy advised Dean with a knowing smirk.

Dean pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw as Roy walked past him, looking back at the others. "It's a bear trap," he informed them needlessly.

"Yeah," Julia rolled her eyes to hide her worry. "We noticed."

As they hiked on, Haley confronted Dean, severely annoyed, "You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffle bag," she pointed out, grabbing Dean's arm to stop him. "So, who the hell are you?"

Julia didn't envy Dean, who now had to explain to Haley what they were actually doing out here. She smirked at him as she and Ben passed him and Haley. Sam paused a little but when Dean nodded at him to go on, he continued and caught up to Julia and Ben.

"You don't eat the M&Ms first?" Ben asked Julia curiously as she continued munching on her trail mix. "That's what I do."

"Well," Julia handed him a couple of M&Ms, which he threw in his mouth. "They're my favorite part of trail mix and I probably wouldn't eat the stuff if there weren't any in there. I save them for last to make sure I eat the healthy stuff first."

Ben nodded. "That makes sense."

"My best friend here is a health nut," she gestured to Sam, who rolled his eyes. "He likes to keep an eye on me."

"You have an insufferable sweet tooth," Sam interjected.

"Bite me," Julia playfully snapped back at him.

Ben gave them a small smile; Julia was happy that she could help get his mind off of his missing brother.

Only an hour later, they arrived at their destination.

"This is it," Roy declared, looking at his GPS. "Blackwater Ridge."

Sam stepped around him and stopped, looking around at the trees. "What coordinates are we at?"

"Thirty-five and minus one-eleven."

Dean wandered over to Julia and Sam. "You hear that?"

Julia stopped, listened, and nodded; the thing was, there wasn't anything to hear. That was the whole problem. There should be some noise considering the fact that they were in the middle of the woods.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "Not even crickets."

"I'm gonna go take a quick look around," Roy told Haley and Ben, causing Julia and the brothers to turn around cautiously.

"You shouldn't go off by yourself," Sam advised, knowing that it was too dangerous for a regular hunter in the woods around here.

"That's sweet," Roy scoffed mockingly and raised the shotgun he had been carrying around. "Don't worry about me."

"Just let him go," Julia grabbed Sam's arm to stop him from following Roy out of the area. "He's an asshole anyway."

Dean made a noise of agreement as Haley and Ben joined them. "All right, everybody stays together. Let's go."

Despite the fact that they all wanted to leave Roy—besides Haley and Ben—they followed the older man anyway. It didn't take long for Roy to find something and when he did, he called for Haley.

She took off at the sound of her name and the rest of them followed her. They came across a campsite that was absolutely ravaged apart. The tents were shredded with some blood on the bigger parts, there was clothing everywhere, and food packages flattened into the muddy ground.

"Oh, my God," Haley breathed.

"Looks like a grizzly," Roy examined the mess.

"Tommy?" Haley called her brother's name, unclipping her backpack. "Tommy!"

"Shh!" Sam hissed at her, jogging over to her side to calm her down.

"Tommy!"

Sam shushed her again and Haley whipped around to face him with an angry stare.

"Why?"

"Something might still be out there," Sam answered.

As Sam and Haley spoke, Dean gently took Julia's arm and pulled her away from Ben. He led her a couple of feet away from the tent, looking at the ground intently. Once he saw what he was looking for, he called his brother's name to get his attention.

"The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here," Dean explained to Julia as Sam made his way over, pointing to where the tracks stopped. "the tracks just vanish."

"That's weird," Julia wrinkled her nose.

Dean nodded at her. "I'll tell you what, it's no skinwalker or black dog."

Sam nodded in agreement and the three of them wandered back over to Haley, Ben, and Roy. Haley was perched on the ground, holding onto a broken cell phone and crying lightly. Julia guessed that it had been Tommy's.

Dean crouched next to her to offer some comfort. "Hey, he could still be alive."

Haley gave him a look, clearly not believing him.

And then, there was a scream from somewhere in the woods.

"HELP! HELP!"

Dean pulled his gun from his jacket as he, Roy, and Sam took off running toward the voice. Julia, Haley, and Ben followed them at a slightly slower speed, all of them hoping that it was Tommy that was alive and screaming for help.

However, when they came upon a clearing, there was no one there.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked, slightly out of breath.

Sam looked around cautiously. "Everybody back to camp."

They ran back to the messy campsite where Sam's duffle bag and Ben, Roy, and Haley's packs were missing.

"Our packs!" Haley groaned.

"So much for my GPS and satellite phone," Roy grumbled.

"What the hell is going on?" Haley turned to Sam and Dean for answers.

"It's smart," Sam said bitterly. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

"You're saying someone—some nutjob out there just stole all our gear?" Roy's voice was flat as his eyes darted around the trees.

Sam rolled his eyes at the older man and walked over to Dean and Julia, who were each searching the outer rims of the campsite to see if the creature left anything behind.

"I need to speak with you in private," Sam told them quietly, leading them a couple of feet away from the others so they couldn't overhear. "Okay, let me see Dad's journal."

Dean immediately looked to Julia, who pulled off her backpack and unzipped it. She reached in and grabbed the journal from atop the water bottles she packed, handing it to Sam without a word.

Sam flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "All right, check that out," he showed Dean and Julia, pointing out a sketch which looked like a weird stick-figure drawing that reminded Julia of the First Nations.

"Oh, come on," Dean scoffed. "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or Northern Michigan. I've never heard of one this far west."

"Dad hunted one in North Dakota once," Julia recalled unhelpfully. Her dad hadn't been expecting the creature since they normally didn't pop up west of Minnesota and he had come home from his hunt badly injured. Julia's mom didn't let him out of the house for a whole week.

"Think about it, Dean," Sam tried to convince his brother. "The claws, the way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great," Dean muttered sarcastically, pulling his gun from his jacket. "Well, then this is useless."

"What kills wendigos?" Julia asked them.

"Fire," Dean told her. "Flare gun, flamethrower, torch, Molotov cocktail. Anything that can blow the fucker up."

Julia winced; that sounded like hard work especially since wendigos were apparently lighting speed fast.

"We gotta get these people to safety," Sam declared as he started heading back to the campsite. When they arrived, he got the others' attention. "All right listen up. It's time to go. Things have gotten more complicated."

"What?" Haley looked at him in shock.

Julia put John's journal back in her bag as Roy gave Sam an annoyed look.

"Kid, don't worry," he stated. "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Sam replied. "If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave, now."

"One, you're talking nonsense," Roy faced Sam head-on. "Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Relax!" Dean warned him, not liking his tone.

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right?" Sam continued, trying to get them to leave. "I'm trying to protect you."

Roy stepped forward, getting in Sam's face. "You protect me?" he laughed mockingly. "I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight."

"Hey," Julia snapped at him, bristling at the man's verbal attack. "Back off."

Sam glowered at Roy, losing his temper. "It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here."

"You know you're crazy, right?"

"Yeah?" Sam retorted back. "You ever hunt a wen—"

Dean pushed him away from Roy before he could finish his sentence; Julia grabbed Sam's arm, holding him in place just in case he wanted to beat the shit out of Roy.

"Roy!"

"Chill out!"

"Stop it," Haley protested, stepping in the middle of Sam, Julia, Dean, and Roy. "Everybody just stop. Look, Tommy might still be alive and I'm not leaving here without him."

Dean looked at Julia and Sam before sighing. "It's getting late," he pointed out. "This thing is a good hunter in the day but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

"How?"

Dean held out his hand toward Julia at Haley's question. She gave him a look, annoyed that he just expected her to have his dad's journal out and ready, and pulled the backpack off her shoulders once again. She handed him the journal and pulled out her water bottles, handing three of them to Ben, Haley, and Roy so they could keep hydrated.

Dean flipped through the journal until he got to the pages about the wendigo. He found what he was looking for, a row of protective symbols that would keep the wendigo away from them, and he and Sam got to work on etching them into the dirt around the campsite.

As it got dark, Roy and Ben started a fire so they could keep warm and be able to see who—or what—was around them.

"Okay, so what exactly are these?" Julia asked Dean, hovering behind him as he drew in the dirt with a large stick.

"Anasazi symbols," Dean spoke loud enough so everyone could hear, Julia having told Haley, Ben, and Roy what exactly they were up against. "It's for protection. The wendigo can't cross over them."

Roy laughed in disbelief, slinging his gun over his shoulder.

Dean gave him an annoyed look. "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy."

Dean stood up and walked over to where Sam was sitting on a log, a melancholy look on his face. Julia let them have their privacy and went back to join Ben and Haley at the fire.

"So, how do you know about all of this?" Haley asked her quietly.

"Honestly, I'm still training," Julia admitted. "but my family has always been involved and Sam and Dean grew up in this. It's like a family business for all of us."

"Your families do this?"

"My dad and one of my older sisters, yeah," Julia confirmed. "Sam and Dean's dad hunts, too."

"Does it scare you?"

"Yeah, of course," Julia said honestly. "It scares the crap out of me but it's better that I know and help out than other people dying, right?"

Haley nodded and Ben looked thoughtful. Suddenly, a voice—the same voice that called for help earlier—started shouting in the distance. Everyone perked up at the noise, getting to their feet in shock and fear.

Dean pulled his gun out of his jacket while Sam flooded the area in light with his large flashlight.

"He's trying to draw us out," Dean stated, cocking his gun. "Just stay cool and stay put."

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy scoffed, raising his own gun for protection.

Everyone ignored his skepticism as the voice shouted again.

"Okay," Roy admitted. "that's no grizzly."

Ben hurriedly grabbed Haley's hand and burrowed into her, frightened beyond belief. Haley had an equally afraid look on her face and held her little brother tightly so she could protect him.

"It's okay," Julia assured them with a calming smile. "You'll be all right, I promise."

Something rushed past the campsite, too fast for anyone to see. Haley shrieked in fear and Ben squeaked; ignoring her own fear, Julia took a protective step toward them.

"It's here," Sam muttered darkly.

As the wendigo sped past them again, Roy shot his gun. Nothing happened but when he took another shot, it sounded like something took a hit. Whether or not it was the actual wendigo and not a tree, Julia didn't know.

"I hit it!" Roy crowed before rushing out of the protective circle to see just what he shot.

"Roy, no!" Dean called after him. He looked back at Julia, Haley, and Ben and warned them not to move before running in the direction where Roy took off. Sam rushed after him and Julia kept a sharp lookout, flashing her light around every couple of seconds.

They couldn't see what was happening to Roy, Dean, and Sam but they could hear shouting. Dean was calling for Roy and Roy was shouting back but his voice abruptly got cut off, putting them in an uneasy silence.

"Roy?" Dean shouted into the quiet.

Within minutes, the brothers came back without Roy in tow.

-

The night passed slowly with Dean and Sam taking shifts to watch out for the wendigo. Julia mostly sat with Sam—who didn't seem to sleep even when he wasn't on watch—restless from the lack of bed and intense paranoia she was having.

They didn't talk as they sat side-by-side, Julia's head resting on his shoulder. They often had silences like this, it was comfortable and it was sometimes relaxing just to stop talking and get lost in your thoughts—that was Julia's point of view, anyway.

"I don't," Haley spoke up a half-hour after sunrise. Julia and Sam were in the same spot, against a tree trunk, and Sam was playing with his dad's rosary. "I mean, these types of things—they aren't supposed to be real."

"I wish I could tell you differently," Dean sighed.

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?"

"We don't but we're safe for now."

"Julia said that you grew up knowing this stuff," Haley said hesitantly; Julia perked up at the mention of her name but laid her head back down on Sam's shoulder once she realized that it was just a passing mention.

"It runs in the family," Dean confirmed.

Sam patted Julia's knee, warning her that he was getting up, and stood up when Julia leaned away from him. Julia hopped to her feet right away, picking up her water bottle to take a sip. They walked over to Dean, Haley, and Ben, who were all in the middle of the protective circle.

"Hey," Sam greeted them; Haley stood up to face him. "So, we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I, for one, want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

"Well, hell, you know I'm in," Dean grinned at his brother. "Give them the rundown, Sammy."

Sam opened up John's journal where he used the rosary as a bookmark and started to explain to Haley and Ben about wendigos. "Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means evil that devours."

"They're hundreds of years old," Dean added. "Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian or other times a frontiersman or a miner or a hunter."

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked curiously.

"Well, it's always the same," he answered. "During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. He becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner party," Ben supplied.

"Exactly," Julia confirmed.

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities," Sam continued on with the lesson. "Speed, strength, immortality."

"If you eat enough of it, over the years you become this less-than-human thing," Dean stated. "You're always hungry."

"If that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?"

"You're not gonna like it," Dean sighed, exchanging a hesitant look with Sam before continuing, "More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time. When it's awake, it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, stores them so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And then how do we stop it?"

"Well, guns are useless and so are knives," Dean sighed and picked up a bottle of lighter fluid, a discarded but still intact beer bottle, a white cloth; a homemade Molotov cocktail. "we gotta torch the sucker."

After making a couple of Molotov cocktails, one of which Julia was allowed to hang onto after a stern lecture from an overprotective Dean, they started off in search of the wendigo and whatever cave it was hiding in.

They walked around for a half-hour before Sam spotted some claw marks in the trees, all off them high up and covered in blood. There were a lot of marks, making a circle in the trunks high above their heads.

Julia scrunched her nose; why wouldn't the wendigo cover its tracks? It was like it wanted them to find it.

"Sam, aren't these a little too distinct?" she quietly asked her best friend.

"I was thinking the same thing," he agreed with her. "they're too easy to follow."

A vicious growl came behind their group, causing all of them to whip around. Once they were facing the opposite direction, another screech came from behind them again, moving so fast that the trees rustled like they were in a major storm.

Suddenly, Haley screamed and fell to the ground, looking terrified. Roy's dead body fell right in the spot where she was standing, his neck broken so drastically that his head was almost turned around.

"You okay?" Sam asked her as he helped her to her feet. "You got it?"

"His neck's broken," Dean said needlessly; he stood up and urged them back toward the campsite. "Okay, run, run, run! Go, go, go!"

The five of them took off running, trying to get away from the wendigo as fast as humanly possible. Julia and Ben were at the back and when Ben tripped over an overgrown root in the ground, she accidently dropped her cocktail as she went to help him up.

Sam doubled back to help her and they started running again. They were almost back to the campsite when they heard Haley let out a loud scream. They raced toward the sound, stopping when they didn't see Haley or Dean.

"Shit," Julia sighed anxiously, spotting the Molotov cocktail that Dean had been carrying; it was on the ground, smashed to pieces and very useless. "It took them."

Ben didn't look as panicked as Julia thought he would be since his sister was now missing, as well as his brother. He pulled himself together and clenched his jaw, pushing back his anxiety so he could help find Haley, Dean, and Tommy.

"If it keeps its victims alive why would it kill Roy?" he asked Sam as they continued walking back to the campsite.

"Honestly, I think it's because Roy shot at it and pissed it off," Sam replied; Ben nodded, seeming to accept that answer.

Julia kept her eyes on the ground as she walked, making sure that they wouldn't step in any random bear traps that may be lying around. She gasped excitedly when she saw a large M&M in the mud, more of them following a few inches from each other.

"Look," she pointed them out to Sam and Ben. "Dean's peanut M&Ms."

Sam scoffed in surprise and picked one up. "It's better than breadcrumbs."

They followed the trail of M&Ms to one of the old mines that Sam told her and Dean about the day they got into town. There were signs warning them of intense danger but it was dark and hidden in there; a perfect spot for a wendigo to hide.

Julia, Sam, and Ben stepped through the broken door and made their way further into the mine. Julia pulled out her flashlight the darker it got, illuminating a clear path for them. They heard a growl and hid as the wendigo sped past them, leaving the mine; it was probably searching for them.

Once the wendigo was out of sight, they kept going. Eventually they came upon a larger cave. It was full of old human bones that made Ben flinch in disgust. They also spotted Haley and Ben's hiking gear and in the corner Dean and Haley were hanging up by their arms, both of them unconscious.

Julia sighed in immense relief and sped toward Dean, Sam right on her heels. To be honest, she had been so worried about him and was afraid she might never see him again. If they all got out of this alive, she was going to tease him about being a damsel in distress just to see that annoyed look in his green eyes that she secretly liked.

"Dean!" she exclaimed, reaching for his torso to shake him awake. While she did this, Sam reached up and started cutting at the rope that detained him with one of his knives. "Hey, Dean, wake up. Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

Dean grunted as he slowly blinked. "Shut up."

Julia beamed at him and laughed softly, bracing him against her as his rope finally broke. Sam went to help Ben get Haley down and Julia slowly helped Dean sit down on the stone floor.

"Are you all right?" Julia asked softly as he groaned in pain.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean assured her quickly. "Where is it?"

"It's gone for now," she told him.

Haley stood up when she was freed from her ropes, way better off than Dean was. She gasped when she saw her older brother hung up in another corner. She, Ben, and Sam went over to him, waking him up and freeing him from his bindings.

Dean huffed and looked over at the bags Julia had set him down by, spotting a few flare guns that would really be helpful. He grabbed three of them, giving one to Julia, and slowly and painfully got to his feet.

"Check it out," he walked over to Sam with a slight limp.

"Flare guns," Sam grinned while Dean twirled two of them dramatically. "Those'll work."

They started out of the cave, Julia and Dean in front of the group—helping a man that was almost a foot taller than her walk was actually hard work—with Ben, Haley, and Tommy supporting each other in the middle, and Sam in the back to protect them.

The wendigo growled threateningly as it came back into the mine and Julia figured that it was upset she, Sam, and Ben weren't back at the campsite for it to bring home to dinner.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean spoke quietly.

"We'll never outrun it," Haley said worriedly.

Dean looked back at them, his eyes flitting over everyone in the group. Finally, he pointedly looked at Sam last. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"All right," Dean caught the attention of the Collins siblings. "listen to me. Stay with Julia, she's gonna get you out of here."

"What are you guys going to do?" Julia gave him a concerned look.

Dean gave her a dramatic—and only slightly attractive—wink and pulled away from her. He started running back down the mine with Sam on his heels, both of them screaming for the attention of the wendigo.

"Chow time, you fuckin' bastard!" Dean shouted over Sam's voice. "Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby! I taste good!"

Any other time, Julia would have laughed her ass off at Dean's nonsense. Now, though, she had work to do and innocent people to save—she was kind of like a superhero now, she guessed.

She held up her flare gun in front of her as she continued out of the mine, the Collins siblings right behind her. She checked to see if the coast was clear before urging them to hurry up out of the mine's entrance.

"All right, come on," she said quickly. "Hurry!"

"Hey! You want some white meat, bitch? I'm right here!" they heard Dean shout.

He's having way too much fun with this, she thought.

Just as the siblings started climbing out of the entrance they heard the wendigo growling a little too close for comfort.

"Get out of here," Julia urged them, coming to a quick decision.

"Julia, no!"

"Go, now!"

"Come on, Haley!" Ben begged his older sister, reaching for her and Tommy through the entrance.

Once Haley gave in and she and Tommy left the mine, Julia turned around to head back toward wendigo's growls. When she heard quick footsteps, she hid behind the way and held her flare gun up, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

A low snarl from her left caught her attention; she slowly turned to look and screamed when she came face-to-face with the wendigo. She heard Dean and Sam calling her name as she shot the flare at the ugly bastard but it quickly ran off.

Julia didn't waste any time; she sped toward the entrance, hoping that the wendigo wasn't going after Haley, Ben, and Tommy.

"Julia?"

Julia jumped out of the entrance where the siblings were waiting and quickly slipped Tommy's free arm over her shoulder to help bare his weight. "Come on, go, go, go," she urged them. "Hurry, hurry."

There was another loud snarl and the four of them turned around in horror. Although still in the mine, the wendigo had spotted them. It looked absolutely furious in what little expression it had and it was definitely not going to mess around and keep them for the winter.

"Get behind me," Julia ducked from under Tommy's arm, Haley taking her place, and stepped in front of them.

She stared down the wendigo, fearful for her life. The wendigo snarled angrily as it got closer and closer to the entrance, out for blood. It was only a foot or so away from the broken planks when something caught its attention.

"Hey!" Sam and Dean called from behind it.

When the wendigo turned around, both of them shot their flare guns. Their shots rang true and the wendigo burst into flames. Its body burnt into a crisp as it slowly lowered to the ground, finally dead.

"Holy shit," Julia sighed in relief.

"Not bad, huh?" Dean called over to her with a smirk; Julia let out a breathless laugh as he walked over to her, surprisingly cupping her chin and lifting her head to look for any injuries on her face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured him with a tired smile. "How about you? Did it get some white meat off of ya?"

Dean chuckled. "Oh, it fucking wished, shortcake."

-

Hours later, they had buried the wendigo's corpse so no one could find it, used Tommy's satellite phone to call for medical assistance, and hiked back to the trail entrance. Paramedics, police officers, and park rangers were surrounding the area, offering their assistance immediately.

Tommy went straight into one of the ambulances while Haley and Dean were tended to at the other. Ben and Sam were questioned by a deputy—Sam there in support so Ben would give the officer the correct, but fake, details of what happened—and Julia was questioned by another.

Her questioning was over quickly since she was the only witness the deputy had to talk to, so she quickly took a bottle of water from a helpful park ranger and walked over to the Impala, leaning against the trunk.

She watched as Dean and Haley conversed, likely saying their goodbyes, and smiled when he sent the girl a flirty look and got a kiss on the cheek in return. Same old Dean. Sam and Ben joined them and they quickly said their gracious goodbyes. As the siblings walked toward the ambulance that was bussing their older brother to the hospital, they waved enthusiastically at Julia, who waved back happily.

She was so glad that they had each other and they were all safe. Honestly, she felt great. Despite the fear she had while facing the wendigo, she was pretty proud of herself. She helped save people and it felt damn good.

Sam and Dean walked over to the Impala, their hands in their pockets. Dean leaned against the trunk next to her, sighing heavily.

"Man, I hate camping."

"Me too," Sam agreed.

"Glamping is way better," Julia stated honestly.

Dean gave her a weird look. "What the fuck is glamping?"

"Glamorous camping," she ignored the weird looks the brothers gave her.

Sam's face quickly fell into sadness and Dean gave him a sympathetic look. "Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam said sullenly before perking up. "But, in the meantime, I'm driving."

Dean wordlessly tossed him the keys.

"Ooh," Julia squeaked excitedly. "Shotgun."

"I don't think so."

"Fine," she shrugged, unbothered as Dean gently pushed her away from the passenger seat. "At least the driver gets to pick the music."

"Ah, hell, I'm regretting this already."

(Gif is not mine)

[midas-or-khaos]

Spirit, Chapter 1

The journey down to the University of Falmouth had been a bloody road trip, rather than the drop off it was meant to be. Getting up at around the same time you’d usually go to bed, the two of them were at wits end, bags under their eyes so deep and purple you’d have thought they were weighed down by boulders to get so large. So to say the mother/son duo were at snappy was...

“Fuck me that was a lot of boxes.”

“Stop swearing!”

...A gross understatement.

Not for the first time that day did Bill wonder how his mum was able to hear what he thought were comments under his breath, when most of his life spent back at home she couldn’t hear his bellowing from inside their thin walled, two story house for a towel when he inevitably forgot to get before showering every. Single. Morning. Sod’s law.

Taking a deep sigh, both mother and son looked down the 3x2 meter room, floor littered with boxes of all sizes, and the boy couldn’t help but cringe. This was supposed to be his room for the next year. His home for god sake! Most dog kennels were probably bigger than this. Better furnished too.

“How much was this place?”

“I’m not cheap.” How did she always know what he was thinking?

Still trying to cover his bare arse, the exhausted boy quickly fumbled together an excuse, “I’m just asking for next year so I know what to expect when I have to pay for my own apartment.”

“Don’t lie to me, I know you think this place is awful. My first year, the halls I stayed in were so poorly insulated the toilet water-“

“-Froze over, I know. I’m not taking for granted the insulation, it’s just you can’t deny there’s enough dead skin on that mattress to say there’s probably a colony of something growing in there. Maybe Botulism.”

A light smack hit the back of his arm, turning the peach skin rosy. Ok, he was being too cheeky now, and she wasn’t impressed.

“I’m going to look at the kitchen, start unpacking now so I know it’ll be done before I leave ‘cause I know you won’t do it unless I make you.”

Taking her leave, the boy kept looking at the room, swaying between both feet, a sigh huffing out like like some overworked Victorian steam train as he let his brow hang heavy over his eyes to shade the shitty bleak, full-screen bright sky that dominated most of the year in dreary, coastal areas like his uni. The low ceiling only came to around 6’1/2ft tall, fitting the overall feeling of ‘Sardine tin’, though for the first time in probably forever he was happy to only reach 5’3ft. If he’d been reaching 6ft like most of the people his age, Bill was sure he would’ve been feeling claustrophobic. Still didn’t mean he enjoyed the room, though.

Working up the energy, the smallest box was taken into hand first, and began the tedious process of open, pick out, place, repeat. Contrary to the usual, the whole apartment wasn’t too overheated, and made the work more manageable, meaning once all the clothes were pulled out and hung up, he didn’t have to change out of his long sleeve t-shirt or baggy jeans.

With a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and a hand scratching cherry, buzzed hair to brush out the accumulated dust, the last and second largest box pulled open held all his art supplies, from a bag of coloured pencils to a tray of oil pastels, seven clean canvases and bottles of acrylic paint (all in different stages of use and decay, the white nearly out) to sponges, rollers and brushes. If you’d heard of it, he probably had it. These were his pride and joy, the reason behind his whole relocating. These next 3 years, he was going to learn how to illustrate professionally. It’d been a pain in the arse to get here, having to do an extra foundation year just to earn the correct amount of points to get in anywhere, but to finally be where he wanted to be (excluding this flat), was a dream come true.

Kneeling down and using care he hadn’t bothered using with his other bits and bobs, each item was lifted out and slid into the square cabinet just under window along the back wall, slotted in together. Silent work, with upmost precision. No more irritating unpacking after this. Just a well needed nap maybe.

The door threw open unexpectedly, slamming into the wall, sending the poor boy up in shock, only to knock o into the unforgiving block of wood making up the overhanging window cill.

“FUCKING HELL!”

“STOP. SWEEEEAAARRRRIIIINNNGGGG!!!!”

Swerving round, venom charged by the unexpected and unnecessary pain, alongside the lack of sleep spat out, “Well maybeeeee if you had KNOCKED like a NORMAL FUCKING HUMAN BEING I wouldn’t have swore when I HIT my HEAD!”

No reply, just the sourest notes pinching her brow and nose. Now she’d fully lost it. Just great. Always quick to offend, painfully slow to forget. She wasn’t going to let this incident go any time soon. The thought clogged his throat and pinched the flame of rage, till all that was left was guilty silence. He’d fucked up.

“...some...of your flat mates have arrived.” Muttered out. Turning round, she briskly left without another word, her footsteps echoing down the stairwell just outside the thin apartment door.

“..,I’m sorry.” Whispered out dejectedly against the silence. Too late, as always. Why couldn’t he control his anger and just hold his breath? So much impulsiveness was becoming irksome even to himself. He didn’t think about swearing negatively, it’s offensiveness never really made sense to him he never directed at anyone. But her constant nagging and his irritability made for dynamite. He’d have to make up for that before she left. God, she was leaving properly today! For months! Was he really prepared for life on his own?

No, he couldn’t think like that, this is what he had worked for. Getting up, giving few quick assuring leg rubs, Bill shook his head to get out any unwanted thoughts and to go find the kitchen. He wasn’t really in the mood to have awkward stranger conversation, but ‘first impressions are always important’ as his mum would say. He supposed she was right, he needed to at least make some friends. The cramped corridor outside only had 5 doors, so it was easy to find luckily, and already there were a couple people and residents hanging around chatting.

“OH! Hi, which are you in?” FUCK, where the hell had she been hiding?!

A regally tall girl sporting the single most neon make up I’d ever seen came unseen from my right, and stood close.

Poor idiot couldn’t help but stare up in awe at the whole display of cyan shadow circling almond eyes and mint lipstick offsetting her natural tan skin and jet black swath hair. She must’ve be studying as a make up or fine artist to have that much knowledge on colour theory and pattern. Shit, shouldn’t stare.

“Oh, sorry, ugh... which room was it...I can’t remember the number but the one just by the entrance to the apartment.”

“That’s room 7.”

“Thank you.” The conversation died. There was a social queue here wasn’t there? Conversations usually carried on longer than this, what was it?

The girl smiled politely, but turned and left to talk to another girl. Bill let out an irate huff. Damn it, once again, a failed attempt at human interaction.

Never mind, try again.

Taking the initiative this time, he walked up to a lone boy this time. Ginger, riddled with freckles, slightly chubby. Tapping his shoulder, the boy turned and Bill tried to give his best realistic smile: eyes crinkled, cheeks full.

“Nice to meet you, I’m-“

“I’m a bit busy, can we talk later?”

Taken aback, all he could say was, “Oh, er, yeah. Sorry.” And he backed off again

2 more attempts and all he was left to do was huff. This was useless! Turning round, the brunette took off with silent footsteps out and didn't look back till he reached his room, sliding the door closed. Hands on the door, Wetness on his cheek. Lifting a hand, he tried desperately to wipe away any sign of tears. This was stupid, why was he so bad at social interaction? All he had to do was respond, like other people normally do... but how do people know what to say when there’s nothing interesting in common? Who talks about the weather and sports as a proper conversation?!

No, he couldn't cry here, anyone could hear him though these thin door. The bed seemed a more inviting place to calm down; covered, warm, maybe decrepit and creaky but it was the best he had, so no time like now to jump in. So that’s what he did, and it took a good hour, but the ache of anxiety that he hadn’t noticed had been building up in his chest earlier, finally drained away under the covers till he could at least stop his tears from falling. A year apart from familiarity and family was more daunting thought than it had been ever before.

A light knock sounded out. Hastily the covers were ripped back and hopefully now enough time had passed that his eyes weren’t puffy from all the rubbing. Mum walked in and a btech version of his earlier smile came out, probably pained looking. She looked slightly less upset than before, but still sported piercing hawk eyes. For all their disagreement, the boy didn’t want his last link to home on a sour note, so took his chance, and spoke up, trying to make amends for earlier, “Mum, thank you for dropping me off. I’m so sorry for acting stupidly, I was tired and in pain, and should’ve been calmer. I’ve unpacked everything and what not so I can take you out for a meal like you said earlier if you want?”

No immediate response, just the same prolonged eye contact, up until she let out a sigh. Was that a resentful sigh or a sigh of forgiveness?Oh how he hated being unable to understand subtleties.

“It’s alright, just please try to understand this from my point of view. Your an adult and people won’t appreciate you swearing around them when you work professionally, so just please try to make an effort to stop. For both our sakes.”

She was being lenient this time. She too wanted to leave on good terms. “I know, I’ll try and stop swearing so much.” A lie, but his swearing was habitual now, so it wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“I’d love to go out, but I’m already meeting a friend in town. You know Sandra right? Well she’s come up from Exeter to meet me, so I can’t miss that. Maybe tomorrow morning before I leave to Manchester?”

Why did it have to be tomorrow?

“Sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Alright see you tomorrow. Try and make an effort to make friends please?”

His Mum blew a kiss and left on good terms, so at least now Bill knew his mind could be at rest not worrying over an awful departure. His whole face dropped at last, overexerted by false emotion. If he hadn’t felt drained before, he sure as hell was now. What the hell his expression must luck like now was unbearable to think about. The covers came back over, but this time it wasn’t coming back off till tomorrow. Screw getting into pyjamas, fuck making friends, piss off outside world. All he needed now. Was rest.

————————————————————————————————————————

...Cold...

...coooolllllddddd???…

...Where were his covers?...

...why could he hear wind?

Head pulled up and eyes forced open, Bill was greeted by a yellowing sea of grass. Only, this grass...was seven times his height..

...what in the actual fuck? Elephant grass?

Shit, a winter gust blew up the back of his shirt and crawled into his skin, the force throwing him face down back into the ground. Shit, he needed to get to shelter. But where the fuck would shelter be in a field of grass?! Isn’t this stuff supposed to be the shelter! And more to the bloody point, where even the fuck was he! Was this some sort of shit joke played by someone in his flat or something?

Getting up properly this time, adrenaline pumped out by his rude and impromptu awakening, the boy grabbed the edge of his shirt to keep it down and hunched over as he began to walk forward. Obviously he was automatically lost, but he was balls deep in this shit show now so nothing better to do. Ughhhh Just one foot in front of the other COME THE FUCK ON. There’ll be shelter at some point. Thank god it wasn’t muddy, otherwise he’d be stuck here forever. Would be like walking through tar. Looking up through the arching tips of the leaves, the sky was the same blinding, blanket white as yestrday, no sun at all. It could very well rain soon if the clouds decided to turn grey. That spurred him onward. The winds kept on beating down, nearly knocking him down without warning at irregular intervals so he was constantly on his toes, and the uneven ground was a bitch to deal with. Ugh, now he understood what his mum was going on about “too much swearing”.

Something felt especially wrong about this situation. Obviously waking up in an endless field of grass was completely out of the ordinary, but the world felt.. out of proportion. The cracks in the earth which should have been minute, barely feel able, yet these were the more like small trenches, the size of gutters. On top of that the elephant grass was decidedly less woody, and reached higher than anything he’s seen before. Was this actually a joke?

Over the gale, was that. It WAS. Murmurs over the utterances of the wind; there were others out here too!

“HHHHHHEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!”

The murmurs stopped, YES they’d heard him.

“HHHHHHEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!”

“AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”

...who responded to a hey with ‘arghhh’.

But more importantly...how in the hell were they so loud? Would it be a good idea to be found by someone he didn’t know the intentions of? An extra large gush smacked the back of his head, thin, neon red fuzz doing nothing to stop the icy chill gripping his skull and adding to the overall painful exhaustion that was going to take the waning strength of blueing limbs. There was no choice left.

“HHHHHHEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY, I’M OVER HEREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!”

No shout this time thank god, his ears couldn’t take that again. Legs shaking, feet black and blue in his trainers, Bill was desperate for them to arrive soon.

THUMP THUMP

What was that?

THUMP THUMP

WHY THE FUCK WAS THE GROUND SHAKING?!

The earth tremors kept coming, and the boy couldn’t stand any longer, falling to his knees and gripping the strands around him with white knuckles. They were getting closer. They couldn’t be earthquakes. Something huge was approaching. Nonononononohejustsighedhisdeathwarrentandnowwhateveritwaswascomingtocollect-

The thumps stopped directly in front of him and a shadow fell over. He’d been seen. Looking straight up through the light canopy, staring straight down at him, was a face.

A gigantic.

Bearded.

Middle aged.

Face.

...Not a point of pride. Bill fainted.

(AN:- a repost from my other account cus it isn’t working properly)

[a-doq]

lion king thinkpiece under the cut:

hoo boy lmao. i honestly really wanted to enjoy it! i wanted to have a fun time! the lion king is one of my favorite movies of all time. one of my earliest memories is watching it obsessively at home. it was my family’s first VHS. i got the platinum edition dvd as a birthday gift from my family when i was younger. i’ve seen the broadway musical. i’ve seen the movie several times before in theaters during re-releases. i had a fucking lion king themed sleeping bag, sweater, tool bucket, watch, computer game, pajama set, and christmas ornament.

so anyway this movie sucked. and that really sucks because the lion king means so much to me! i tried to enjoy it as much as i could. but by the end i was honestly bored and sick of it and just wanted to leave the theater and do something else.

i’m going to go scene-by-scene here and explain my biggest thoughts (so “spoiler” warning i guess lmao):

circle of life: whatever it was fine. instead of starting out with a loud yell and then the screen fades in from black, in this version there’s a static shot of the landscape that holds for like ~5 seconds before the sun starts to rise and THEN the yell starts. the first thing that honestly popped into my mind was “this reminds me of the teletubbies opening sequence” LMAO

Scar’s intro: new scar is mostly fine. the actor is clearly trying his very best and i appreciate that. it’s tough to take it seriously because it’s basically an ugly-ass CGI lion walking around talking about being evil and it kills my suspension of disbelief a bit. john oliver is annoying as FUCK as zazu which is super disappointing. obviously zazu was supposed to be annoying in the original too but he was also formal, respectful, neurotic, and caring. in this version he’s given some more dialogue that makes him sound like a complete dickhead at all times. james earl jones constantly sounds like he’s out of breath and is going to keel over. THAT in particular is super jarring because i know all of mufasa’s lines and delivery by heart and it just emphasizes how inferior this version is.

young simba: voice is fine. definitely upped the cute factor. BUT they also changed his character to be... stupider? and it honestly makes his character annoying. simba shouldn’t be annyoing! in the original simba KNEW that the elephant graveyard was dangerous but explored it anyways because he was immature. in this one he doesn’t even know that the elephant graveyard is dangerous because he’s stupid. he ignores what people tell him straight to his face and just acts like a dipshit.

stampede: ya lol. ragdoll mufasa is unintentionally hilarious. idk if any of y’all have seen the leaked recording but yes it’s just as bad. also, the point of mufasa’s death scene is that it’s simba’s first experience with death. in the original, when simba is tugging on mufasa’s ear to get him to wake up, you get the sense that simba doesn’t really understand what death is. in this version, he just lightly taps mufasa’s forehead, then immediately assumes he’s dead, and just accepts it?? ALSO, the cinematography of the stampede scene is weird. in the animated film, as soon as the stampede starts, the lighting and background transform from bright and sunny into extremely dusty, so that you can’t discern left vs right. in this version it’s STILL LEFT BRIGHT AND SUNNY WHILE SIMBA AND MUFASA ARE FIGHTING FOR THEIR LIVES which is like... fucking WHY. there’s a few jumpscare-esque action moments of mufasa getting the shit beaten out of him by the stampede which i actually liked and thought added to the tension of the scene.

timon and pumbaa: overstay their welcome, yet ironically are the only emotional magnets in the second half of the movie. i hope y’all enjoyed the hakuna matata excerpt that was released by disney, because that’s the only emotion you’re going to get out of donald glover in this entire movie. EXTREMELY important scenes to simba’s character are completely cut out and replaced with nothing:

-simba collapsing on a cliff in mourning after talking about his father living on in the stars

-simba pacing and talking to himself about why going back would be pointless, then screaming at the sky “you said you’d always be there for me” and crying

-rafiki whacking simba over the head, and teaching him that the past can hurt, but it’s important to learn from it.

-simba cornering scar, telling him that he’s a murderer and that he doesn’t deserve to live after what he’s done

also, all the emotional scenes that they DID leave intact feel hollow. not only do the characters not show any facial emotions (which has been bitched to death on the internet), but they literally DO NOT MOVE THEIR BODIES AT ALLLL. for the ENTIRE second half of the movie the characters are either just standing there or running in order to change scenes. the scene with mufasa’s ghost? simba just stood there THE ENTIRE TIME AND LITERALLY DID NOT MOVE. no shots of him gazing up at the sky, no shots of him running through the field after his father. the whole thing is just shot-reverse-shot. but because they didn’t bother to animate mufasa in the sky (it’s literally just james earl jones’s voice with a few shots of lightning), it just looks like simba is standing there, having a conversation with the fucking sky, like he’s having a schizophrenic episode. when simba returns to the pride lands, they didn’t even bother to animate his head looking around at the destruction. when mufasa dies, they didn’t even bother to animate his ears going back, or his body crouching, or his fur bristling, or his tail tucking under his legs... he just STANDS THERE while the voice actor is “crying” and it’s so awkward lmao. 

miscellaneous nitpicks:

-the movie is REALLY fucking quiet. it might’ve just been my theater, and i know that kid’s movies are played at a lower volume so as not to damage their hearing, but this was just abnormally low. i had a hard time even hearing the music half the time.

-the entire movie is very dark and unsaturated. “i just can’t wait to be king” is the most colorful the movie looks. everything after that is ugly

-pride rock looks extremely... short? and not tall at all? it looks like 10 feet tall at most. it doesn’t feel majestic at all. it just feels like some boulder.

-”he lives in you” wasn’t included in the movie even though it was released in the soundtrack... why? fucking why? the placement of that song in the musical is excellent and greatly enhances the story. but whatever i guess! gotta make room for a 30 second excerpt of beyonce’s song.

-there a weird scene included in the movie, where, instead of rafiki learning that simba’s alive through the wind, a literal tuft of simba’s mane falls out, is carried by the wind, GETS EATEN BY A GIRAFFE AND THEN COMES OUT IN A BALL OF SHIT, WHICH IS THEN ROLLED AROUND BY A DUNG BEETLE??? WHICH RAFIKI THEN USES TO LEARN THAT SIMBA IS ALIVE. and the whole thing lasts for like 4 minutes??? what the fuck??

-simba and rafiki exchange like 3 lines of dialogue max lol

-kids will be bored. by about 3/4 of the way through the movie all of the kids in my theater collectively stopped giving a shit and were just wrestling with each other on the floor

so yah. if you want to see a version of the lion king with all of the melodrama systematically stripped away for some reason, with all of the unique cinematography from the original replaced with shot-reverse-shot, watch this lazy remake.

at least my girlfriend’s seat was broken so the ticket guy gave us a free voucher to see another movie together in the future.

[helloimnotlame]

We Own The Night - Seth Rollins Smut

A/N: Stressed Seth and Reader take drugs and forget about the world to Dance Gavin Dance. Written in the perspective of being high. Drug use and mentions of anxiety. GIF not mine ; Listen to the song here ! <3

♫Forget my jealously You swallowed the demons on your own♫

You never saw yourself doing hardcore drugs in a million years. Everything about it just made the instinct say no. The side effects, the way it tore people's lives into halves..It wasn't a risk you wanted to take. But this....was needed. This was earned. Besides - it wasn’t like you were getting doped up on the street with Brian Griffin. You were with the man who had your life, who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He was laying beside you with a deep glaze of darkness that wrote 'high as fuck' in all caps that steamed into his melted fudge eyes to the long spirals of his hair sprawled across his face like a dry mop.

♫Stomp that feeling, your puke is a mutant Can’t think of who did this, well I grew stupid♫

His bronze greek crafted physique was the only thing you could see in the graphite sheets that inspired a black hole sensation making you feel like you were balancing on thin air. You felt like you were floating just above the thermosphere on a wicked cold cloud with the only thing keeping you grounded being a subtle tingling sensation against your leg. Maybe it was just his lapping over yours - but that'd be the easy answer. Your brain was screaming giant eel, but you were too high to care either way.

♫ Say accidents happen, it’s admirable acting

Flicking the back of your ear with my finger ♫

Your attention was on smile across his face that you never saw before. It wasn’t one of those fake smiles he put on for the kicks nor the solid hoax he put one in response to you asking if he was okay. This - was as genuine as the night. How much you'd give to see him like this all the time..for him to as happy as he was now everyday..it’s a shame how much the law demonizes drugs. 

♫Separate is the way though, no second is the place though Just fake it through the day and the night is your god.♫

His body folded to press his nose against the smooth white desk beside you, lined with alleys of the devil’s snow. His eyelids laid shut in anticipation, his nose inhaling the dusk in one quick motion, leaving no other evidence other than the small residue marking his nose. “Heh, fuck” His ash and sandpaper voice groaned. The TV wasn't even on yet all you could hear when he spoke was Grover form Sesame Street. His voice was already raspy as it was without the drugs and the crank only enhanced it. The sound wasn't bad and if you weren’t high you’d enjoy the harmonic sounds however in this moment, it was too cringey to bear. "Shhh" your finger faintly pressed against his lips but you felt ear. At least your vision manageable or else you would've start digging for gold. His voice croaked as a laugh in response. "Whatever...girl..." that smile again. 

♫ Let your hair down have one more round Drink til you believe it Sloppy kisses, dirty wishes Baby, this is living ♫

Deep down there was hope that this wouldn't ruin his career. Its hard policy with the crank. But that hard policy is what lead him here in the first place. The constant spotlight, the immense workouts, you could tell he was getting frantic. But, the rest of the world's thoughts came later. Now, it was trippy vision, pure relaxation and post-hardcore. "I...I feel like I'm alone right now" his dreary voice stuttered, leading him on top of you - his weight hitting you like the weight a fat baby but still with the presence of its delicacy. He wasn’t holding back. His velvet hands smoothed across your arm until it stopped just in the crease, the pricky tip of a needle replacing his hand. There was a sudden rock in your stomach that spewed fumes of anxiety that you didn’t feel with the crank. Guess you did need another dose. “It’ll only just be a second babygirl...don’t worry...I got you” his scratchy voice consoled, waiting for you to nod your head in permission before continuing. Sure he was high out of his, but at least he was still compassionate. before piercing your skin with the sharp needle and wasting the toxin into your stream. if only you were stable enough for pain. once all the fluid was drained, he released, tossing away the syringe and cupping your chin in his hands. You shared grins - societies renegade druggies.

♫Get up off the wall come on get down get down Give into moment and live now live now♫

It wasn’t long till you felt the effect kick in - your body shivering under him as waves of nirvana poured into your veins. No wonder people get hooked on this shit. It was a feeling like nothing other - but you were strong. And it was only this one time. Right? "That's my girl" he purred his breath the gin to your tonic, the aurora he gave off better than the drugs.  “Yknow, I heard this shit is good for the relationship stuff... and yknow it's hard. So many people fuckin' watching and telling me how to love.." You heard his words loud and clear and even digested every word he said. A response though - you'd have to take a rain check. All you felt like saying was "koala" and didn't know why. Seth noticed and with the subtle drag his tongue glided across his bottom lip in desire for your own, your lips connected, the taste of him was the same as yours but a bit sweeter.

♫I have the heart of a coward Here in my arms is exactly where I want you We own the night♫

The kiss was during with no form yet tumbles of passion found. He got on top of you yet weightless. The gray cloth of his sweatpants hoovering above you was like a weightless kite. His warm lips touched your neck sparking instant sensuality and to the beat of Tillian’s voice your bodies moved ships that clashed into the swivels of the duvet. “You want it ?...As much as I do?” he gasped in between kisses, his lazy body rested into the crook of your neck - his breath panting against your skin almost comparable to the smack of air you fell when entering Walmart.

♫Say accidents happen, it’s admirable acting

Flicking the back of your ear with my finger♫

“I...I want it as much as you do” The words didn’t feel like it came from your mouth. For all you knew - you were a cloud carrying all the hippies of South Central through the sky. And maybe you’d be one of those clouds who look like something legible. Before you could think more you felt his wet lips grasp loosely at your skin. The subtle tingles it left was no match for its real life counterpart. This, was like snake kisses. “You taste so good” he mummered as he suckled on your neck. Who knew the taste of skin would be enjoyable..Maybe it was the perfume. "Yeah?" Hypothetical yet out of your mouth like butter. "Yeah" his dry voice purred in confirmation. If only the words were “Okay” the two of you  would’ve been a perfect spin off to The Fault in Our Stars.

♫See you in battle; your boat is my paddle Your life is my business; your plaque on my wall♫

And if the two of you were stars - boy would there be many faults. But you shined together and only for each other. That’s what mattered. The feeling of Seth’s persusaive tongue, his hands grabbing at your body in complete desire, the aching warmness that began building between your legs...Everything going on began to become so intense and you could feel small moans breathing through your lungs as if it was your breath. "Shhh...baby...you just squaked" Seth cooed giggling under his breath, his finger dragging your lips just as you did. Is that sound you made? You were thinking if it was so much you couldn’t even remember. If only anxiety could be this peaceful in real life. “I got you baby girl...it’s okay”. He was still chucking about it yet you still got the message that it was your cue to relax and let be, let be. You owned the night.

♫I need poison mitigate my pain Feel my toes go golden up in flames Give me false hope in my veins Tranquilize and modify my brain♫

The bare air invaded your skin vulnerable skin as your clothes fell to the beside to the mercy of Seth’s finger pads. His honey dripped body hovered over you like smooth molasses, his aching erection rubbing gliding across your clit giving you chills. A suave hiss slipped from his lips in response to feeling his tip meet your sensitive place, his velvety hand cupping the side of your cheek. By the look in his devilish eyes you could tell he was ready, and you only returned the look. His hips lined up perfectly against yours, his fat cock smoothing into your hole giving you instant sensations at the feeling of being filled. With the high the was no space for pain, but only the immense pleasure you felt from him hips bucking into yours, and his dick filling your walls. “Oh fuck” you breathed, hiking your back and clutching onto his forearms. It was like an all in one sex toy. Everything was twice as hard, twice a deep, all the things you begged him for in normal circumstances. Everything was so intense...and it was amazing. He was writhed with pleasure too by his facial expression twitching trying to find the right way to express itself at the warm tightness of you that sent him into ecstasy.

♫Where did I go wrong? There's nothing I can do the thrill is gone So I play these nervous songs Pretend that I’m not barely hanging on♫

Like steam blowing gently at the boulders your stomach built - you felt another high approaching the one you were already hugged inside. With each pulse and twitch his hard dick writhed through you - you could feel he was going there too.

"Good girl..good girl" he rambled on as his aggression increased, your body bouncing with each thrust he gave.  "My precious little angel...Oh my fuck I need you...I love you...” You could fell his emotions pour out into the cup of escasty, that you took a long gulp of, your orgasm erupting and releasing like little small volcanoes. The highs you shared spoke for itself - Seth collapsing on top of you, and your own body in itself as you laid restlestly in the duvet. 

♫ And medicate Medicate Medicate me all night long♫

That high was over but you still were consumed. It was just added pleasure into the pool of divine you were bathing in. You could tell Seth felt the same way as he fell back into his previous position, right beside you, only his half of his body was now sprawled out on top of yours carelessly. He turned his head to look at you - a crooked yet soft smile across his lips. “Yknow - I’m seeing stuff n’ shit right now but..we’re - we’re in this together...Forever”. Each of Seth's words were dragged by the grasp of his weary voice yet you could tell it was genuine. All the words he wanted to say all this time came out.

[unchartedterritoria]

Dangerous (Sam Drake x OC) - Chapter 14

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5* Chapter 6 * Chapter 7 * Chapter 8 * Chapter 9 * Chapter 10 * Chapter 11 * Chapter 12 * Chapter 13

As always, you can read the story thus far on A03  HERE

Chapter Summary

Sam and Faith try and make their way out of the firey building falling down around them and the mental aftermath.

Sam shielded his eyes against the flames that were licking at the corners of the room. He coughed as he edged around what was the remains of the stairs, now just a tall tower of fire and heat. Sam reached a hand out in front of him, finally feeling the cool dirt of the back wall against his hand. He patted the wall frantically, ducking lower as the flames made their way across the ceiling. Finally, he felt the seam of the dirt crusted door under his fingers.

    “Oh thank god,” He uttered in relief as he frantically began to scratch at the small door in the corner of the room.

"Faith, C'mon! There's a door!" He yelled, his voice barely carrying over the sound of the house going up around them. Unable to grip the door, Sam slammed his shoulder into it, the dirt covering the entrance falling to the ground.

"C'mon, move you, son of a bitch," He muttered under his breath as he drove his weight against the door again. This time, the wood shuddered and cracked. Sam threw himself against it with a yell one more time, and the door exploded, covering him with dirt, dust, and speckles of wood as he landed on the ground. The doorway led to a small passage no bigger than a walk-in closet. Laying on the ground, Sam watched as the smoke pushed across the ceiling, finding its escape between the small slats of wood that covered it. A storm cellar, complete with a long-forgotten storm door. It was a way out.

"Faith!" Sam called as he scrambled to his feet. He looked back; the flames had doubled in size and number, the heat bordering on unbearable. He heard nothing but the sound of the blaze around him. Sam headed frantically back into the basement, his eyes burning and red from the smoke.    

Faith sat against the back wall, still holding Remy, her face buried in his wild hair. Sam knelt by her side.

    “Faith, we gotta go, this house ain’t gonna last much longer,” Sam told her.

    “We can’t leave him,” She said in a muffled, watery voice from between the locks of hair.

"He's gone, Faith. He's gone, and we're gonna be next if we don't move!" Sam urged, his voice growing louder over the noise of the snapping wood.

    “We can’t leave him, Sam! We can’t leave him!” She cried. A loud crash interrupted her pleas as the large iron stove from the kitchen above crashed through the ceiling. Sam threw himself over Faith, shielding her from the flying embers and debris. He knew that the house didn’t have much longer. Sam sat up and grabbed Faith roughly by the shoulders.

"Look! We lost the Bible, we lost the note, and we lost Rem! I’m not losing you too!" He yelled, his eyes frustrated and pleading her to go with him.

    Faith let go of Remy, letting his lifeless body slump back against the barrels. Without a word, Sam grabbed her hand and pulled her up. The fire overhead blazed out of control as it ate away at the rest of the house. Keeping crouched, he led her back and through the small opening to the cellar door. Faith doubled over, a gagging cough grabbing her as the air in her lungs was replaced with thick smoke. Sam pushed on the hinged doors above their heads. He felt the doors give a little under pressure.

"Help me push this," He said quickly. The flames had begun to make their way into their little alcove, and the oxygen was almost gone. Sam and Faith braced their arms and with a quick 3-2-1 from Sam, pushed against the old doors with all their strength. The doors opened, and the hinges screamed in protest. Smoke billowed out of the opening as Sam and Faith climbed up and through the doors, scampering into the woods that backed up to the house.

Faith leaned against a tree, gasping for fresh air. Sam turned and saw what was once the home of Mary Edwards now a blazing inferno in the middle of the woods, the flames already trying to jump to neighboring trees. The second story imploded as Sam grabbed Faith’s hand and led her back through the forest and down the path.

    Faith stared out the windshield of the SUV as Sam drove down the rural highway, the car quiet except for the noise of the road under the turning wheels. Faith sat unblinking, almost catatonic. Her right cheek was swollen, her clothes torn from falling and her bottom lip had managed to stop bleeding finally. Sam wasn't in much better shape. His nose was slightly swollen and no longer bleeding. A gash began to crust over the end of his eyebrow, and his knuckles were a bloody mess. Both of them were covered with a layer of dirt and smoky soot that clung to their sweaty skin.

Sam drove as quickly as he could without drawing unwanted attention to the two of them, anxious to get out of Springfield, anxious to get out of Illinois altogether.

    “Let me have your phone,” He asked her quietly.

    Wordlessly, she pulled the burner phone from the inner pocket of her jacket and handed it to him. Never taking his eyes off the road, Sam dialed 911.

"I want to report a fire. It looks like that big patch of forest off route 92 south of downtown is on fire, there's a ton of smoke. Tell them to get there quick," Sam said in a monotone voice before hitting END. He took the phone in both hands, cracked it in half and chucked it out the window onto the road.

    Sam was careful to keep watch of Faith out of the corner of his eye as he drove. After the ordeal in the basement, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Catatonic is better than hysterical I guess, he thought. After a half hour of silence, his worry subsided a bit, figuring that Faith was processing everything in her own way, which was by herself, in her head, alone. He understood that was how he dealt with things too. Prison had a tendency to make oneself their own counselor.

    Faith sat in the passenger seat, the only move she had made in the last hour was to switch from staring blankly out the window to staring blankly at her hands. They were filthy and turned from tacky to stiff as the blood that covered them dried. The little bits of wood that stuck to her skin held on by the sticky drying blood made her think about those mosquitoes caught in the tree sap in Jurassic Park.

    As she stared at her hands, her brain slowly turning back on, she noticed something odd; Her hand had grown a small extra finger, one that seemed to have no bones to give it shape. She blinked a couple of times, the supposed extra finger coming into focus. On the floormat of the car, just beneath her hands, lay a red gummy worm; An escapee from Remy's never-ending pouch supply.

Remy, oh god, Remy.

    The events flew through her brain, the solace of its emptiness gone, instead filled with the blood and horror that had just happened.

Faith's stomach began to churn quickly, the mechanics in her belly throwing the gears in reverse. She breathed deeply through her nose, her hand going to her stomach.

"Pull over," Faith said suddenly.

    “What?” Sam asked, surprised to hear anything from Faith.

    “Curb it!” She loudly demanded, one trembling hand at her mouth, the other frantically unclipping her seatbelt.

    Sam quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road. Faith had the door open before Sam had the car in park and took off like a shot through the field of decapitated corn stalks in front of her. Sam got out of the car and limped after her, the one knee still smarting from the kick from Arthur gave it earlier. He saw Faith finally skid to a stop, doubled over. Sam slowed his pace when he heard the faint retching sounds in front of him.

Faith stood back up, the heaving finally subsided. She took a couple of wobbly sidesteps, wiping her mouth with the dirty sleeve of her jacket, looking like an Irish drunk in the St. Paddy's Day parade. Serendipitously, nature had placed a small boulder in the field. She plopped down hard, resting her head in her hands.

Sam walked up beside Faith. He went to put a comforting hand on her shoulder and stopped himself, thinking better of it. In their time together, Sam had caught on to the fact that Faith did not like to be touched. Instead, he sat down beside her, resting his elbows on his knees, the lowering sun casting them in a golden tone.

    “I killed a guy,” Faith said in a small voice, her head still in her hands.

    “You did what you had to do.”

    “I killed him. I stabbed him with a piece of glass. I felt his blood on my hands; this is his blood on my hands," She said shakily as she dropped her bloodstained hands out in front of her.

    “Look at me,” He asked her, gently turning her shoulder towards him so he could look at her. Her eyes were large with fear and tear-filled.

    “He was trying to kill us. Once he killed me, he would have gone after you. You did what you had to do,” He explained as gentle as he could and still get his point across.

    “I killed a guy and Remy’s dead. Remy’s dead,” Faith said as she dropped her head and the tears started to spill down her bruising face.

    Sam swallowed a tight lump in his throat, waiting for her to place the blame on him.

"He's dead, and we left him there in that burning building! What about his parents? His family?" She sputtered, crying. Sam stayed silent, bracing himself to be blamed but still knowing that all of this was better out than in.

    “That asshole killed him. He shot a 17-year old boy,” She sniffled.

    “I shouldn’t have let him come,” Sam said guiltily.

    “No, no. Don’t go there. The blame is on Bixby. It’s all that Bixby asshole and his fucking boss, not you. So, you quit that shit,” Faith spit with anger through her tears.

    Faith’s burst of angry logic silenced Sam. He expected her to cast nothing but blame in his direction. Assorted accusing statements like, ‘Why didn’t you do this, why did you let him do that, You could have stopped him.’ That lingering feeling of inferiority in him had always reared its ugly head in big situations like this. Faith blamed Arthur Bixby, blamed Jasper Nox, but she didn't blame him. The heavy guilt in his heart wasn't gone, but Faith had made it lighter, and for that, at that moment Sam knew he kind of loved her.

    “He was just a kid. He was just a kid, Sam! He was just starting out and he was gonna go so far, so far and now he's gone. He’s gone,” She sobbed into her hands, her tears flowing freely.

Sam's heart ached for Remy, and it ached for Faith. He wanted to ease the burden on her, make her feel at least a little better like she had done for him.

    He reached his arm behind her and gently patted her on the back, rubbing her back lightly.

    Faith turned towards Sam and put her arms around him, taking him by surprise. For the first time in months, she wanted to be touched, wanted to be comforted. She buried her head in the shoulder of his coat, her arms around his chest. He gingerly rested his face on the crown of her head as he rubbed her back and held her as she cried.

    “I’m tired of people dying,” She said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his jacket and the tears in her voice.

    “I know,” He muttered gently into Faith’s hair.

    Faith sat and cried while Sam held her in a strange field by the side of the road in Illinois as the sun went down.

Despite Arthur Bixby, despite Jasper Nox, despite everything, at that moment Faith felt safe.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Unadulterated Crack Part 12

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Word Count: 1,475

warnings: Angst, Humor, slight violence, Thorin being a diddly dumb ass, Implied smut, Shunning, attempted blackmail, Thranduil being an ass, and alcohol usage

A/N: I know I said you’d get the next chapter in November, but I didn’t want to wait, plus I’m feeling motivated for once.

— Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7— Part 8 — Part 9— Part 10 — Part 11— Part 12 — Part 13 —Part 14 — Part 15— Part 16— Part 17 — Part 18 — Part 19 — Part 20 — Part 21 —  

    It took Thorin two hours to realize he had over looked you, and left you without reassurance that he was alright. He sought you out, and when he found you leaning up against a boulder on the river bank with Dwalin lurking not far from you. He realized that Dwalin had been more than a little clingy and protective of you then he had in the past. But Thorin thought nothing of it, he assumed that Dwalin was just protecting you because you had Thorin's braids in your hair. He approached you, and once you were in arm's reach he took a hold of your waist between his hands. He cooed, "I am sorry I did not come to you earlier." Much to Thorin's surprise you did not receive him as he had hoped. He had wanted you to hug and kiss him, and ask if he was alright while looking at him with concerned eyes filled with love. Instead you slapped him, hard, across the face and glared at him with cold eyes. You screamed, "What were you thinking! How could you be so reckless, and stupid!"

     Thorin held his stinging right cheek, and stuttered, "W-what do you mean!"     You seized him by the front of his coat, and yelled, "You went charging into a fight by yourself when you were out numbered, and your enemy had the high ground! You are damn lucky that Bilbo acted when he did or you'd be dead! You are also lucky that I didn't get a chance to get my hands on you sooner cause I would have done more than just slap you! Your people are relying on you to reclaim Erebor and you can't do that if you are dead! Do you know how scared I was that I'd loose you! If you ever do something so stupid again you better hope they kill you or that I don't find out you did, cause if the latter happens I will kill you my own damn self!" throwing your arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder. 

    After Gandalf told all of you that the viscous bear outside was their host, Beorn, everyone went to settle down for the night. As Bifur, Bofur, Dwalin, Bilbo, and Fili and Kili headed to the barn to sleep you looked over at them and said, "Remember boys, even," Then you bleated like a goat, and continued, "Means no."

     The rest of the company burst out laughing, as Thorin rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned at your bestiality joke. Thorin then led you to a pile of hay in the stables, he wrapped his arms around you, and said, "I want you." kissing your neck.

      You chuckled, "I'm not quite sure I have forgiven you for nearly getting yourself killed." leaning your head back to expose more of your throat to him.     "Then let me make it up to you." He hummed, as his hands began to knead your rear.

    At the Elvish Gate, as Gandalf demanded they not free his horse, you grabbed him, pulled him down to your level, and hissed, "You better bring Thrain back alive and in one piece or I swear I will tell everyone about your true nature Olorin!" in his ear.

    After he left, you stuck with Thorin and Dwalin, and tried to keep the whole together as they descended into the delirious madness that the forest engenders, which didn't really seem to have any effect on you. You felt like you were a shepherd trying to keep a flock of drunken toddlers together. When the spiders came you didn't stand a chance with the Company being so goofy. When Bilbo cut all of you down, he made sure to do you last so you didn't get squished by your Dwarven companions. 

    After Thranduil had spoke to Thorin, he sent for you for some odd reason. When you entered the throne room, Thranduil was pouring himself a goblet of wine. He said, "Tell me, what is a child of man doing traveling with a group of Dwarves with a death wish?"

     "Death wish? What death wish?" you mocked innocence. 

    Thranduil glared at you, and states, "The wish to slay a dragon and reclaim a home land."

     "Well we're not here to fuck spiders." You sneer.     He points at you and firmly whispered, "Do not speak to me in such a manner, I am a king."

     "Well I didn't vote for you." you quip.

     Thranduil says, "That's not how that works."

     "You are a king amongst elves Thrandy, and I am not an elf, so do not expect me to kiss your ass like everyone else with pointless formalities. I am not a child, saying that you have a born right to rule just because of your lineage will not work with me." you snap.

     He stared at you for a moment, before smiling softly and saying, "You are a strange girl, but you amuse me. Would you like some wine, it's the very best my halls can offer." 

        Your mind shoots to the baby, and you huff, "I should not, now did you bring me here merely to get a look at the odd ball, and waste my time. Or did you want something?"

     Thranduil examined you closely, his eyes wandering over your form. After a few minutes, his eyes grew wide, and he breathed, "You're pregnant?"

     "That is besides the point." You growl, "are you done wasting my time with your games?"

     Thranduil said, "It is a child of Durin, is it not?"

     "That is none of your business. Now tell me what you want, or I'll go back to the dungeons my own damn self." you puff.

     Thranduil sighed, "very well," dramatically, he said, "When I mentioned you to your foolish leader, and he became rather defensive. I wished to know what makes you so unique that you managed to worm your way into that oaf's heart."

     "I like to think it's my perky nipples." You snort.

      Thranduil laughed, "I see why he seems so fond of you now, you are lively. Tell me does he know you are carrying his child?" You avoided eye contact, with the Elf king, after a minute, Thranduil hummed, "Do you fear that he would not accept your child due to its mixed blood? Is that why you hide it from Thorin?"

     "No, I do it to protect him, he has enough to worry about already. He does not need to fret over it now, I will tell him when December rolls around." You admit having been found out.

    Thranduil said, "I will make you a deal, if you get me the gems of star light that I desire, I will keep your secret from Thorin."

     "I have a counter offer, you even think of opening your big mouth to Thorin, I will take those gems and throw them into the deepest part of the lake." You retort.

     His eyes widened as he breathed, "you would not dare."

     "Wanna bet?" You huffed.

     He looked you up and down before muttered, "I see why Thorin likes you." before saying, "I will not tell your beloved fool that you are with his child, but I require that you at least attempt to convince him to return the gems to me."

     "That will not be possible at least until after November twenty third." You shrug.

     He eyed you curiously, and asked, "Do pray tell as to why that is?"

     "He's been falling deeper into the dragon sickness the nearer we get to Erebor. By the time we actually reach the mountain it will be in full control. But Thorin is not like his grandfather, he will beat it on his own on the twenty third and he will fight in the battle. After then, if he survives, and I do as well, I will help you try to negotiate with him. He's usually more receptive to something when I am around. You will also have to compromise with him, you can't just demand he return them without offering something in return. The mere fact that you foolishly revealed how desperate you are for the return of your wife's jewels means he has the advantage. However I make no promises that I will succeed, I am just one woman Thranduil. I alone cannot undo thousands of years of hate and mistrust between the Dwarves and Elves. Also I do not know if I myself will survive the battle, so do not get your hopes up. However you need to arrive at Erebor after you hear Smaug is dead, with two thousand armed elves, and plenty of food and medical supplies to share amongst Dwarves, men, and elves." You caution.

     Thranduil nods his head, and assures, "We have a deal, now I will return you to your cell."

— Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7— Part 8 — Part 9— Part 10 — Part 11— Part 12 (here)— Part 13 —Part 14 — Part 15— Part 16— Part 17 — Part 18 — Part 19 — Part 20 — Part 21 —  

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[nightblink]

Blink Reads Oathbringer - Chapters Two, Three, and Four

Chapter Two – One Problem Solved

Hello Adolin, my sun son, I have also missed you so.

Good man, taking charge and organizing your people just like you've been raised to. Find that purpose in usefulness. Find that distraction. You're going to need it.

Heralds, I'm a terrible person, but I want you to b r e a k.

That's not almost a relief, that is a relief that they found the body, because you are too honest for your own good and The Worst Liar and it's going to tear you apart inside trying to keep this a secret. It's almost a tiny weight off of your shoulders, being discovered and that small step closer to your own Damnation, isn't it?

Oh shit, Dalinar calling out Teft by name-

“Looking for him? You lost your highprince.” Why do I find this so fucking funny. It's such a little thing and yet I'm cackling.

'connoisseur of death' – Dalinar why you gotta be so Extra(tm)

(we all know why, it's a Kholin Genetic Affliction)

I was listening to The Way of Kings not long ago and it sticks out as Dalinar catalogues Sadeas' face and wound that Adolin likes to and is skilled at using his fists while on the battlefield. Also managed the overpowering and stabbing while beat to shit and with at least a broken wrist. If he'd actually managed to get Sadeas in the ring, I'd give the man under a minute, if Adolin didn't drag the 'fight' out for the vicious pleasure of it.

SEBARIAL AND PALONA, AYYYY

'He didn't trust most of the highprinces farther than the wind could blow them.” Dalinar. Dalinar you do know that you live in the stormlands, where I know that a Highstorm's stormwall has been known to lift boulders and carry large trees at least 640 kilometers. The wind can blow anyone pretty damn far.

…..actually, that explains everything, considering how easily you trust.

(Wisdom was your dump stat, wasn't it. Ten sapphires says you have a negative modifier for Insight.)

Palona says what we're all thinking. Give that woman a medal and a nice spa day.

L o r d I forgot how much I liked Sebarial and his combination of common sense (for a Highprince) and snark.

[whistles] I knew Urithiru was massive, but that description puts my visualization on a wholly different scale. Ten tiers, each of eighteen levels? Is 18 going to be another number to watch out for?

RICE PADDY ROCKBUD FIELDS

BrandoSando what powers do the squires osmose from their Radiant. I want a list broken down in detail, stat.

Bridge Four, never change.

Dalinar. Dalinar, he would have undermined you at every turn. Forget uniting Roshar, you wouldn't have been able to unite Alethkar with Sadeas sowing dissent and tearing down everything you try to build! Think what you may, but Adolin did what must be done.

Good man, Aladar. Good to know that you can change when faced with new information. Sebarial being Highprince of Commerce was practically guaranteed from the point we heard of him building a proper economy on the Shattered Plains. Adolin as Dalinar's right hand and general was a given.

But what is Renarin to do, other than attempt to figure out his powers? It's a high-priority task, to be sure, but Dalinar, couldn't you entrust a little less personal of a responsibility to him as well? Make him feel like part of the greater whole rather than set aside as he's always been…?

[sighs] I suppose we'll see how this plays out.

Chapter 3 – Momentum

Ohhhhh, and here we get one of the three chapters released way long ago that I did read.

'Rockbuds crunched like skulls beneath Dalinar's boots' What a line what an iconic line-

Almighty Dalinar you were more arrogant than Adolin easy; you can damn well see where he gets it from

This entire visual is glorious and I'm reveling in the descriptive flavour. Who needs a movie when this plays out in the imagination so well?

He can make a line of spearmen waver with just a war cry, Heralds

I said it the first time I read this chapter and it keeps running through my head – the Blackthorn is fucking terrifying

Even now, he's having trouble feeling the Thrill, or at least getting it to catch and hold. I can't imagine he was anything close to proto-Radiant at this point, but perhaps Alethi predisposed towards Radiant-ness have an innate resistance?

(We never read of Kaladin feeling the Thrill.)

OOOP, THERE IT IS.

I would like to rage.

Bloody as it may be, the thought of young!Dalinar spinning with his poleaxe like a dancer is viscerally satisfying on some deep level.

“I just go where he points me.” Dalinar confirmed for guided tactical missile.

And there's the arrow, and Dalinar is impressed. Nearly gets shot again with just how impressed he is. (Now's not the time for competency-kink to kick in, buddy.)

Dalinar. Dalinar, anyone else would call this a bad idea.

“He's got a hole through his chest. Tough break.” Dalinar please.

….Sadeas had golden Shardplate. Sadeas had golden Shardplate. I suppose this must be before he picked his colours as Highprince, and I am entirely unsurprised that he'd go that showboat-y. Was he forced to give up the gold at some point? Is that why his Plate during the current timeline was painted red as opposed to Elhokar's golden set?

“Oh Dalinar. What would we do without you?” Sadeas, I'm afraid your flirting isn't going to work on this one.

Chapter Analysis: young!Dalinar classed straight Barbarian. WIS for dump stat.

Chapter Four – Oaths

[squints at the pre-chapter quote] Theory that the book Oathbringer in-universe is Dalinar's biography is rapidly declining. Still possible, though.

THE EVERSTORM RETURNS.

!!!! He's feeling the Stormfather's emotions? The soulbond can transfer emotions between spren and Radiant and vice versa? Be still my heart.

Stormfather is bascially a cat, ignoring Dalinar just because he doesn't want to come when called, confirmed.

SNUGGLES

Not only snuggles but bared safehand aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh- I love how that's more a sign of trust and intimate familiarity than anything inherently sexual.

The Everstorm is at least slower than a highstorm, but that's not a whole lot of reassurance. “It wouldn't tear down cities, but it did rain destruction upon them – and the winds would attack in bursts, hostile, even deliberate.” Yeaaaah, definitely not. How powerful can those “deliberate” gusts be, I wonder?

Gavilar was your control back then, wasn't he? External control, rather then the internal discipline you keep now.

You want to- you want to get married before you let yourself 'get seduced'. I mean, that's entirely fitting with the Vorin religion and the Alethi in particular being so focused on oaths, but damn, man. I thought you two were already quietly together.

INFORMATION ABOUT SHSHSHSH GIVE IT TO ME GIVE IT TO M-

….shit. You're telling Navani about the lack of memory. Hoooooly shit.

Hostage? Hostage?!

I am abruptly SO MUCH more concerned for Adolin and Renarin, Adolin was only thirteen and Renarin even younger I thought she'd fallen ill or something but a hostage situation can you imagine how that impacted the boys, how that must have scarred them to the core – during their formative years! I- fuck. This is going to get some serious attention on the RP blog after I've finished Oathbringer.

The thought of Elhokar faced with Dalinar and Navani's wedding vows is partly so hilarious that I almost want it to happen, but on the other hand I feel he'd spontaneously combust with sheer embarrassment and I probably would too.

Dalinar you lunatic.

….still stuck on hostage situati-

'silk-covered virgin' – does that mean that the Alethi traditionally get married in silk clothing? I'm imagining the men in a vest-and-takama set, the women in something light and flowing. There's no way that Dalinar isn't in his uniform right now though.

True spren versus subspren? What would constitute a subspren? Is that akin to the difference between honorspren and windspren, or is there a further level of spren that we haven't seen yet?

What do your sons think of this, Dalinar? They who remember their mother? I don't think they're opposed to you remarrying – on the contrary, they'd want you to be happy, but… what do they think?

BRIDAL CROWN. I NEED TO ART THIS ASAP.

Red is lucky, making a note of that.

“A lady must be prepared.” Oh hush, you planned for this to happen.

This. Is not going to make Elhokar feel any less like he's being ousted as king. This will undermine his confidence in his position even further, which is not good when King Social Anxiety is already pretty much at rock bottom and recuperating from an assassination attempt.

The face of the storm itself opening up overhead, the world hanging on a suspended breath… I'm getting shivers, no wonder the crowd exploded with awespren!

OH GOOD YOUR BOYS ARE THRILLED. Grinning! And joy! And, despite the Alethi not being big on contact, hugs. Adolin you touch-starved nerd

Oooof. That is pretty heretical, Dalinar, you have to admit that. Even atheists like Jasnah are probably less 'heretical' in the eyes of Vorinism than someone 'faithful' proclaiming that God Is Dead. In this time when your goal is unity, this isn't going to help you in the slightest.

[looks at map of Alethkar at the end of the chapter] [looks up]

Why. The everloving fuck. Is there no scale for distance. THIS IS A BASIC PART OF MAPMAKING. I WILL COME OVER THERE AND BEAT IT INTO YOUR HEADS-

...still stuck on hostage situation and I’m apparently not getting over it anytime soon

[aikojwhpa]

The fence chapter 1

sorry if it sucks this is my first time writing for other people to read. The Fence Chapter 1 Author's P.O.V It was just a normal day at bighit high school, everyone was in their classes. and all of a sudden you can hear a girl screaming at the top of her lungs it sounded like she was being hurt so wolfie walked out of her class not bothering to ask the teacher to go see what was going on.

. Wolfie's P.O.V I walked out of the class because i heard a girl screaming for help it sounded like she was in a lot of pain so i went to go and check up on what was going on. when i reached the screaming girl i saw that V's ex girlfriend was beating my younger sister up her name is Sally but we call her uni. i saw that V's ex had stabbed her in the arm and leg and was beating her up, i was fuming i charged towards her and pushed her on the floor "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?!" i screamed to her face. i guess i screamed loud enough for V to hear me and he ran towards my voice and he saw Uni on floor covered in blood and me on top of his ex screaming at her face. V asked me what was going on and i scream "THIS BITCH STABBED UNI AND BEAT HER UP!" V then smirked at me and said "take care of her" i smirked back and his ex looked at me in fear. V took Uni to the nurse while i was beating the crap out of his ex girlfriend "get over V he doesn't like you anymore so get over him" i said to her. I took out my dagger from my boot and was about to stab her in the throat when someone pulled me off of her but that didn't stop me before i looked at who picked me up i threw my dagger into her chest. After i threw my dagger into her chest i looked behind me and saw that jack my rival had pulled me off of her "what the heck don't touch me ya nasty!" I told him, "THAT WAS MY FRIEND WOLFIE!"he yelled at me "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FUCK ASSHOLE!?" "YOU SHOULD BECAUSE SHE WAS MY SISTERS BEST FRIEND" we yelled at each other "well next time tell your 'friend' don't mess with my family" i said and then walked off as if nothing happened. V's P.O.V I was walking down the hallway from the bathroom when i heard a oddly familiar voice screaming at someone it was in fact wolfie, which is odd because she never leaves class unless she wants to go smoke but she usually calls me to go with her. so that means someone pissed her off and a pissed off wolfie is never good because no one can piss her off that easily. when i ran to see what was going on, i saw my little sister uni on the floor covered in blood and crying out in pain. i saw wolfie on top of my ex girlfriend.. *shit wolfie never liked her* i asked uni what happened but wolfie answered me "THIS BITCH STABBED UNI AND BEAT HER UP" i smirked at my twin and said "take care of her". i turned back to uni and carried her bridal style and carried her to the nurse's office and put her on the bed and went to go call the nurse who was on break but on my way back i saw that boy jack from the grey family pick up my twin by the waist before she could stab nicky my ex in the throat. but i walked away before i saw anything else. i found the nurse and told her what happened to my sister, i didn't tell her what wolfie was doing to nicky though, cause we would probably get in trouble for murdering a girl on school grounds. after the nurse stitched and tended to uni's wounds i put her on my back like a piggyback ride, and we walked through the halls to get wolfie so we can go home but she was talking to jack well, more like yelling at him but i looked at her and we made i contact and i signaled her so we can go, and she said one last thing to him that i couldn't hear then she walked towards me and intertwined our fingers together and we walked home. me and wolfie took uni to our family mansion and told Sebastian our butler to take her to her room. after i made sure uni was ok i over heard dad yelling at wolfie, our dad never really liked wolfie but no one knows why. when we were little she would always get less than the rest of us like if our parents buy us toys they would only say they forgot her's. but back on subject dad was yelling at her so i went closer to hear them " WHY DID YOU LET HER GET HURT WOLFIE!" he yelled "dad it wasn't my fault" she said softly "THEN WHY DID SHE COME BACK WITH TWO STAB WOUNDS HUH?!" "i don't know why dad" she said softly again. "YOU ARE SUCH A STUPID IDIOT YOU KNOW THAT?" he yelled at her and her eyes were starting to water so i came in and said "sorry to interrupt but me and wolfie have to go to the library dad" "yeah go and take your stupid sister i don't wanna see her right now" dad said "yes sir" i replied. me and wolfie walked towards the door and from the corner of my eye i could see wolfie wipe her tears, she doesn't like to signs of weakness so she quickly wiped away her tears but she thinks i didn't see her. i intertwined mine and wolfie's fingers and walked to our mansion in the woods. while we were walking i asked "why was dad yelling at you?" " he thought i was the reason why uni got hurt, but it's ok i get blamed for everything anyway so i'm used to it" she replied to me i felt bad. we reached our house and walked in and the first thing we saw was wolfie's pet wolf yes i said wolf she has a thing for wolves that's why we call her 'wolfie'. but as soon as we got in i pet him his name is miso and then went to the shower. Wolfie's P.O.V when we got to our house in the woods i went to my room and my pet wolf miso followed me to my room. as soon as i got into my room i closed and locked my door and crashed down on my bed and started to cry. i always got in trouble for something i didn't do by my dad, i don't know what i did for him to hate me so much but he does. i started to sob at the thought of my own parents hating at me i didn't see V walk into the room *welp i guess i didn't lock the door* he sat by me and made me lay down on my bed and he hugged me and i shoved my face into his chest. "shh it's ok wolf it's ok calm down" he started to comfort me. i stood up and started to yell "WHY! WHY DO THEY HATE ME SO MUCH WHAT DID I EVER DO TO THEM!" "i don't know wolf" V said calmly he always was calm when i had mental break downs but this was my worst so far "i just don't understand why they hate me so much, they love the rest of you and WE are twins but they only hate me but why?" i said more softly this time and started to sob and i fell on the floor in sadness. V rushed over and started to comfort me again i couldn't hold it in anymore i cried and cried until i could barley breath, after a while i stopped. "go wash up and we can watch a movie ok" V told me and i looked up at him and said "ok thanks bro" "it's really no problem i'm always here for you sis love ya" he said "love ya too" i replied. i went to the bathroom to shower after i came out and changed into a hoodie and some joggers after i changed i went downstairs and saw V in the kitchen he was making us some food for the movie. i went to the couch and put in the movie crybaby *if you haven't watched that movie you need to johnny depp is the main character*. after a while me and V were on our 7th movie it was 2:48pm so we fell asleep on the couch. *the next morning* still Wolfie's P.O.V the next morning me and V have to wake up super early so they can get out of the woods and walk to school. the school is only 20 minutes from their house in the woods but it is an hour walk from their parents house that's why they prefer to stay in their house. they walked to school and when they got their i saw jack standing by the gate and walked faster so i don't have to be in his presence but V stopped walking and i looked at him confused and he just told me to go to class and he'll meet me there, i was so confused but i went anyway. i got to class without V and my teacher asked "where's your brother?" "none of your business" i replied and she shook her head in disappointment. after 2 hours i was already in my second and i started to get worried so i walked out of class and the teacher yelled at me " Where are you going this time?!" and a girl in the class said "probably to kill another student" i walked up to her and said "unless you want to be the next murdered student then keep on talking but if not i suggest you shut the hell up or i will shove my dagger down your throat and don't test me because i will" and i walked out. i was walking for about 3 minutes when i saw V talking to jack and they were smoking outside and then i realized he was buying weed from our rival i got so angry all of a sudden. i took a dagger from my boot and threw close to V's head i didn't hit him though i knew i wasn't but i wanted too. he looked up and was about to shout but then he saw me "shit" he mumbled under his breath. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" i yelled at him "wolf please just-" he said but i interrupted him "don't call me that i am so.. i don't even know anymore, i was coming to check on you because you didn't come to class like you said you would so i thought you were in trouble but then i see you buying from HIM! REALLY V? WHAT IS THIS WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE! YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID TO ME AND HERE YOU ARE BUYING FROM HIM!" he looked at me in shock i never yelled at him before. I ran to the school gate and it was closed and locked so i climbed it and ran to the woods but not to my house it was a secret place i found when i was 11 years old it was a beautiful sight it was a water fall with green grass surrounding it and some boulders. i took off my jacket and skirt and jumped in the water i calm down easily when i'm in the ocean or any water that i can float in. i heard someone shouting my name so i quickly grabbed my skirt and jacket and hid it in my secret bag under a medium sized rock and jumped in the water again and went under the water fall and on the other side was more rocks and boulders so i sat on a boulder. "WOLFIE I KNOW YOU'RE HERE PLEASE COME OUT!" it was V how did he know i was here?. "NO YOU BETRAYED ME V HOW COULD YOU DO THAT WE PROMISED THAT WE WOULDN'T BUY FROM THEM ANYMORE!" i had to yell because i was behind the river. V's P.O.V I ran after wolfie, i know where she's going because i used to there too because it always calms me down and one time i went and i saw wolfie in the water but she didn't see me. i ran after her i saw her take off her jacket and skirt off she always had shorts underneath her skirt in case of emergencies. after she stripped she jumped into the water and started to just float there doing nothing but float. i think she heard me stepping on the branches because she dove under the water and went to the other side of the river. WOLFIE I KNOW YOU'RE HERE PLEASE COME OUT!" i yelled to her "NO YOU BETRAYED ME V HOW COULD YOU DO THAT WE MADE A PROMISE THAT WE WOULDN'T BUY FROM THEM ANYMORE!" she replied. it was true me and wolfie made a promise that we wouldn't buy anything from them anymore after what they did to us. *flashback* Wolfie's P.O.V me and jack were walking through the woods hand in hand we were walking and just talking about random stuff. when we were walking we found this abandoned mansion, it was all dusty and beaten up but we found it beautiful. we walked up to the door and it was already open so we went in and saw that there was nothing inside it looked like whoever lived here just up and left this place. "i want it" i said "what" jack said confused "i said i want it, it's mine now wanna help me fix her up?" i replied "ummm... sure!" he said. we went to my house first i snuck in and threw out a bucket of cleaning supplies and the key to my car at jack and he surprisingly caught them all. i crawled out the window and took my keys from him and opened my car and we drove back to the abandon mansion and started to clean inside. after 3 hours of cleaning jack was outside for about 20 minutes so i went to check on him and i got tackled to the floor and knocked out. *2 hours later* i woke up in a dark room my head was pounding and i was so scared i looked at my wrist that usually has my bracelet on it and it was there i pressed the button on it and waited. a little bit later a door opened and i saw jack and i looked at him confused "what are you doing why did you bring me here?" i asked him "SHUT UP! i brought you here for experiments so shut up, i am gonna give you a shot and we will see if you transform within the next 2 hours" he said and i was so confused "transform? what the hell" i muttered under my breath. V's P.O.V i was at home waiting for my twin Samantha she went out with her best friend jack it's been 3 hours and i'm getting worried so i went to go look for her. i looked everywhere in the house first and she wasn't there so i looked in the woods and she wasn't there but i saw her car from afar it's not hard to miss it's bright red. i ran over there and saw a huge mansion it's beautiful looks like she wanted it so she was cleaning it but she wasn't here. while i'm searching i hear a chime from my wrist. "shit" i said, we made these bracelets with a button on it to signal when we are in trouble if we aren't with each other. i ran to her car and jumped in i have a spare key i hooked up my bracelet to her GPS so i could find her. that's weird she's at the grey house, i arrived and got out of the car but before i went in, i went to the trunk of the car and opened it and grabbed her daggers and a gun. i walked in and i could hear her screaming i knew it was her what the heck are they doing i walked towards the screaming. and i came to a door and listened to it and i could hear the screaming i knocked the door down and saw her on the floor she looked like she was in pain she was rolling around the floor. when she saw me she screamed more " V help me please i don't know what's happening it hurts so much he gave me a shot and it hurts so much!" i looked at her eyes and they were a crimson red i panicked i cut the rope off of her foot and picked her up bridal style and walked out. when i reached the door i heard someone coming downstairs so i ran to the car laid her down in the back seat and went back with the gun and i saw jack at the stairs. "WHERE IS SHE!" jack yelled at me " WHAT  DID YOU DO TO HER" i screamed at him " i didn't mean to i swear. my dad made me do it i swear please believe me" he said " don't ever go near her again, if you do i will not hesitate to kill you you understand" i told him " ok but when you get home lock her up don't let her out she is going to transform and she will be hungry so don't let anyone near her" he said "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT " " just go before my dad comes back GO!".

[tokyoteddywolf]

Fishy Feathers Chapter One

FUCK YEAH I ACTUALLY GOT IT DONE!!!!!!! :D Here, have some cute baby Avian Lance and Mer Pidge! Aka Chick Lance and Guppy Pidge, for now. :3 ————————————— She hated thunderstorms. She didn’t like how they made the waves all out of control and rough. Her mother trilled worriedly as the sky darkened and the waves started turning choppy. They had been playing around in one of the rock formations near the coast, the rest of the pod in deeper waters, when her father called a warning about the incoming storm. She whimpered and clung to her mother, her guppy tail not exactly strong enough yet to swim through tough currents like the ones sweeping through the area.

Without warning, a huge wave came out of nowhere and slammed down on her, knocking her grip off of her mother’s fin and sweeping her away. She screamed in fright, her mother’s loud panicked calls fading as she vanished with the wave.

…………………………………………………

Lance whimpered, looking around the trees and cringing as another raindrop landed on his nose. He didn’t mean to fall from the nest! He just wanted to see that pretty bluebird again! The sky was still dark, the sun not quite risen yet, the storm fading into the distance with the occasional rumble of thunder. He didn’t know how to get back into the nest, his oversized brown and tan wings not quite able to lift him yet, so he stayed on the ground, sad and scared little chirps echoing from his throat.

His Mama was asleep with his siblings, his Papa out on a flight to the nearest human city to buy food. So nobody would notice him until they woke up. He folded his wings around his body clumsily, still not quite used to using them yet. He was only six, still a hatchling. He wouldn’t start flying lessons until he was at least ten or twelve. More droplets splattered his wings, and he huffed irritably. He figured there had to be a drier spot to sit and wait, so he got up and marched determinedly through the forest in search of a warmer and less drippy place.

He stopped at a hill of rocks that tumbled down to a beach, eyes wide. A huge body of water lapped at the white sandy ground and boulders, smooth and rough and his inner chick wanted to climb all over it! Chirping excitedly, he scrambled down the hillside, yelping when he tripped and landed face first into the sand, oversized wings flapping awkwardly in an attempt to stop his fall. He sat up, brushing grains of gritty sand from his cheeks and rubbing his nose with a soft whine of pain.

His head whipped up suddenly. He could have sworn someone had just gasped… getting to his feet, he shuffled forward in the direction of the noise, soft, inquisitive little chirps leaking from his mouth. His Mama always said to chirp before he talked, that way he could get attention on him when he spoke to an adult or stranger. There was a pause, and then something mimicked his chirps back! It didn’t sound like any kind of chirp Lance had ever heard before, it was kinda hollow and higher pitched than his own. Squeaky, like a baby pigeon. He clambered over the rocks to the source of the sound and…

He stared, star struck. Big golden brown eyes stared back, a soft pink mouth full of sharp teeth dropping open in surprise as the pale skinned, green scaled mermaid noticed the goofy, fluffy brown and tan speckled wings on his back. Realization registered to both children, and Lance shrieked and ducked back behind the boulders while the mermaid did the same, curling up into a scaly ball with fins flared and covering her non scaly torso.

After a few minutes of nothing happening, Lance peeked back over the rocks and scanned the ball of green fins warily. Mama had always said that an Avian who got too close to a Mer was sure to be dragged into the sea and drowned. But… then again, Mama said that the Mer were huge and vicious and would attack fearlessly… so why was this one so small? Smaller than him, actually? And… scared? Of him? Why? Plus the fact that she was several yards away from the water, and the rocks looked painful to lay on… and one of her fins, the webbed one on her lower back and further down was bleeding along the base, like something had tried to pull it off. He crawled over, carefully, because he was pretty sure this shaking ball of fish scales couldn’t hurt him right now, plus he couldn’t just stand by and watch her suffer! She probably had a family waiting for her, missing her!

He let out a soft, warning peep before he pressed his palm against the fin covering her face. It wasn’t slimy at all, actually kind of like the really fine spider silk his Mama bought for a dress once, super soft and smooth. The fin pulled back, and the mermaid was staring at him again. Lance offered a reassuring smile. “Um, hi! Are you okay?” He spoke up for the first time that day, words instead of bird sounds. It seemed to startle the guppy girl, because she clicked softly in surprise.

"So, uh, I’ve never met a Mer before, but you look kinda… dry? Do you need anything?” He asked, tilting his head and shuffling his wings nervously. Her eyes followed the movement before she swallowed thickly and blinked back tears. “Wah-der. ’M drai. Owie.” She whimpered, still too young to form proper words but trying to convey the message anyways. Lance recognized the babble as toddler talk, his little brother spoke in it currently. Which meant this Mer was at least two or three years younger than him. “Wah… der? Oh! Water! Okay! I’ll get you to the water then! Um… but first we should bandage your fin… I know!” Lance reached behind his back and tugged at the strings tying his shirt together, the design keeping his front covered and his wings free.

Tugging off the thin fabric, he started tearing it into strips. “Wha’ birdy doin’?” The little mermaid whispered, confused. Lance smiled. “Makin’ a bandaid! Hold still, ‘kay?” He reassured the younger creature, clumsily tying the fabric strips around the damaged fin. He tied it off tightly, so it wouldn’t slip off, and brushed some sand off of the guppy girl’s tail. “Okay, how’s that?” He asked, the mermaid blinking and wiggling her fin experimentally. “Owie bedder!” She squealed happily, propping herself up on her hands to stare to the bandaged fin.

Lance preened, proud of his work. “Okay, let’s get you to the water! I’m gonna hafta carry you though, ‘kay?” The Mer nodded, and Lance wriggled his arms under her body, grunting as he somehow managed to pick her up into a princess carry. “For a small girl you sure are heavy!” He yelped, staggering down the rocks and boulders to the waters edge. She let out an indignant, offended, squeaky pigeon chirp and smacked his cheek with a webbed hand, pouting. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just not used to carrying smaller people with tails. All my siblings have wings you kno- AAAAH!” He cut himself off with a startled screech as he slipped on a particularly wet rock and fell forwards into the shallows of the sea, the mermaid sent flying before she plopped into deeper waters.

She surfaced quickly, worried about the fluffy winged boy, and promptly burst out laughing. High pitched, joyful, amused chirruping trills of mirth practically leapt out of her mouth as she took in the sight of the shocked and soggy birdy boy in the water on his hands and knees, wings puffed up in surprise. Lance blinked and sat back on his knees in the water, still a little stunned. It was wet, yeah, but a different kind of wet. Salty and moving and warm and almost alive somehow. And… he loved it! He made an excited little chirp and spread his large wings wide, sweeping them low and getting them wet. The pigeon chirping mermaid swept closer, still making those happy little giggles, and splashed him with more salty water. His face lit up and he splashed her back, laughing. This was so much different from the rain! The ocean seemed to play with them too, small waves crashing into him when he went too far out and pushing him back to shore, tugging lightly at his shorts and wings, splashing him and getting him thoroughly soaked as he chased the little mermaid around excitedly.

A few hours later the sun was fully up, and he was resting against a boulder with his wings and everything under his waist completely submerged, leaning against his new Mer pal. “So… I never learned your name, by the way?” He asked the tired out guppy next to him, and she hummed quietly. “Mom named me-” a series of clicks and squeaks followed her words, and Lance blinked. “-bu’ my Word name is Kadie.” The mermaid finished, smiling. Lance thought a moment. “Katie? Mm… doesn’t suit you. But Pidge does! Can I call you Pidge?” Lance asked, tilting his head towards her in order to gauge her reaction. Katie’s face lit up. “Like a birdy?” Lance nodded. “When you chirp, you sound like a baby pigeon. So, Pidge!” The newly dubbed Mer clapped her hands excitedly. “Pidge! Pidge! I’m Pidge!” She cried, absolutely thrilled with the nickname.

"I’m Lance! And you’re Pidge!” Lance introduced, Pidge grinning enthusiastically. “Lance! Fluffy birdy Lance!” She cooed, and Lance giggled. The happy fun time was interrupted by distant, loud, trilling calls from Pidge’s pod. Lance perked up at the sound of his Mama calling his name nearby. “Aww…. I gotta go home now…” Lance pouted, Pidge drooping as well. “Play 'morrow?” She asked the Avian boy, splashing him lightly again. Lance stood up and stretched. “Yeah! Course we can! But it has to be a secret okay? Nobody can know, they’d separate us.” He made a shushing sign with his hand, Pidge mimicking the signal. “Mhm! Nobody know!” She giggled, as her pod called again. “Bye Pidge! I’ll see you tomorrow!” He said, wading onto the beach as his fishy friend waved goodbye before diving into deeper waters.

…………………………………………………

Pidge pulled the shirt bandage off of her fin, swimming towards her mother. She was instantly engulfed in a crowd of worried pod members, her mother squeezing her tight and clicking furiously about how worried she’d been while her father and brother pressed in close, Matt examining her scabbed up fin. “Where have you been? We’ve all been worried sick!” The pod leader, Alfor, scolded her lightly, and she played with her fingers nervously. “Beached!” She shot back defensively, and gasps of horror echoed through the pod.

Many times a young beached Mer was either killed by drying out or by being killed because of another species looking for easy prey, as guppies hadn’t developed the shifting ability yet. The shifting ability allowed Mer to go on land, but only after puberty hit, around twelve years of age. The first time was pretty painful, and they resembled humans, which is why it was used as a last resort when beached.

Alfor softened instantly. “At least you made it to the water in time… I think you should stay in the cove until you’ve healed, alright?” Pidge nodded, already planning how to sneak out to see her feathery friend on land.

………………………………..

"Goodness Lance, you’re soaked! What where you doing out there, playing in the lake? And where is your shirt!?” His Mama berated him as she flew him up to the nest, his siblings already crowding around and chirping with questions. “Mama! I told you! My shirt ripped when I fell from the tree and I’m all wet 'cuz I fell into a big puddle!” He complained as she fussed over him, ruffling his hair with a towel and drying him off before she bundled him up in warm clothes and blankets, constantly checking for a fever.

His Mama sighed in exasperation. “My little chick, you’re too curious for your own good! Next time you fall from the tree, you climb the branches or wait for someone to come get you, understand? No more of this wandering off!” She scolded him, and he huffed quietly as she started working on drying out his wings.

Now to figure out how to get to the beach tomorrow…

—————————– Chapter one is done and I am taking a nap, goodnight- ugh- *flops onto bed and sleeps instantly* (The Shance comes into play later, I just wanna focus on the Pidge and Lance sibling dynamic for now ;3)