#the return of flesh giraffe

[zhukzucraft]

happy build guessing to everyone!

[milqueandsugar]

imagine alastor's 7 foot tall ass self with an s/o who's like around 5 foot😭😭

id love to hear your headcannons and thoughts about this if possible🫶🫶

☕🌼 ` Your Tea Is Ready ` 🌼☕

Gen , Fluff

Includes , alastors menace behavior

He's taller than most demons, so for a long while it's likely never something that he thought about, just the way the two of you were made

If you asked him to grab you something from the shelf he'd do it, maybe a little dramatically if he saw you struggling or even holding it above you're head to bargain for a kiss on the cheek or something small

It isn't until he hears YOU talking about it to Husk or Rosie avout dating a giraffe does he take this as an opportunity to be a menace

He never really thought about your height before, or much of your appearance at all, he fell for you for you, the flesh your made of didn't particularly matter to him

But since he's come to the epiphany that it's something YOU think about often he does adore teasing you about it

Intentionally putting things higher up on shelves so you have to ask him for help, at first you don't think much of it, before you see him actively moving the peanut butter to the top shelf

He'll occasionally bow or bend down to talk to you

"Oh! Pardon my dear I couldn't hear you from all the way down there!"

If he's in a particular mood and in private he'll get down on his knees

Or pretending he can't see you cause your so Itty bitty

Lifting you up so you can see things better, or just to bother you

"I don't weigh anything to you do I?"

"It's like holding a couple of grapes."

Uses you as an arm rest, you're just the perfect height in his honest defense

He gets more playful with it if you respond to his jests, tease him about being a stretched out jpeg or freakily tall and he'll return the jabs, full of love of course

"Sorry my dear I forgot you were in the room! Just a little under my eye line, perhaps you'd like to stand on this chair?"

He says like he isn't looking at you like a heart eyes emoji

[sammyloomis]

2024 completions #1

part 2

back back back again!! gamers gamin'

06/12 update: posting this earlier than the new year because im gonna be rushed off my feet with work so i aint got time for gamin til late janurary :']

doing these is always fun and i know its mainly for myself fghj not sure many people even read these posts when i make em, but theyre fun to look back on!! in 2 parts cause i gamed too hard again smh smh

total games: 30

21/01 - Spider-Man 2 - 7/10

peter and miles return for double the spidey shit and double the big bads. why does anyone even live in this city anymore?? this sure was an insomniac spiderman game!!! like dont get me wrong, none of these games are Bad, theyre kinda middle of the road imo, but theyre still fun so ya cant fault em for that!! my main gripes with this game, as has been with the other 2, is just the overall story and dialogue being kinda boring. also, some of the side missions/collectibles stuff can be a bit of a pain BUT as i said, the combat is still very fun... tho mostly unchanged aside from some new abilities n gadgets

08/02 - Cozy Grove - 8/10

you are a spirit scout who has washed ashore of what seems to be a deserted island. except OOPS wait its not deserted, its haunted, and its YOUR job to help out the wayward souls stuck here into the afterlife if youre looking for a console version of animal crossing this is ur best bet imo!! tons of collectibles to find over the seasons, a bunch of decorations to spruce up the island, and a surprisingly rich story for each character u meet. this game covers some pretty heavy topics for how bright and cozy it looks, it was a pleasant surprise. my main gripes are how repetitive the quests are and how buggy it is; the game freezes a LOT and u have to restart the whole app multiple times just to get going some days. other than that, very fun and relaxing :]

22/02 - Frog Detective: The Entire Mystery - 10/10

you are frog detective, worlds number 2 best detective!! head off on 3 exciting cases and solve the Ultimate mystery - IS there a hat that can fit on frog detectives weird shaped head?? only time will tell im being dead serious about the 10/10 btw. this game is a collection of all 3 games in the series and theyre all super short, but super fun and cute and Funny. like genuinely. i love the low poly art style so much, i think the jokes are great, just the overall vibes are Brilliant, rly cant rec this enough :']

22/02 - Fran Bow - 8/10

fran bow follows the story of a young girl struggling with strange visions and evil entities i mean fran bow is a pretty iconic point n click horror game, idk what else to say abt it that hasnt been said already!! the art style is obviously a highlight, and the writing is iffy in some cases but surprisingly emotional a lot of the time for how messed up the visuals can get. theres a Lot of back and forth which can get a bit tedious, but the puzzles are pretty fun and overall its just a decent game imo

01/03 - Little Misfortune - 6/10

a young girl called misfortune goes on an adventure to find Eternal Happiness after a strange voice begins speaking to her inside her head the spiritual sequel to fran bow!! the vibes are similar for sure but something about this one didnt grab me the same as its predecessor. the character of misfortune can oscillate frequently between cute and annoying for me, as could the voice acting, but theres clearly a lot of heart in this one still :] the world didnt feel As fleshed out as fran bows but still a decent game

07/03 - Castle on the Coast - 7/10

you are a giraffe named george, washed ashore on an island with a castle (on the coast, if you can believe it). after meeting the residents, you gotta platform and collect ur way to the very top to help resolve some bad blood pretty cute n short platformer!! controls are kinda floaty/slippy and its very clearly meant for a younger audience, but its still pretty fun :] low poly art style is always a plus for me and i do always love a good platformer

09/03 - Yu-Gi-Oh! Master Duel - 9/10

the card game as you know and love it, now digital! i mean. its yugioh fghj if ur a new player its a great way to learn the basics and begin crafting some decks of ur own, if ur a returning player its a fun way to experiment with some new deck ideas and just play, and if u dont wanna play against other people online u can always just take it to a private match and duel there with ur friends :] the ui is sleek, yugioh itself is a fun game. honestly the only bad thing is the other players but u cant do much about that fghjk

15/03 - Yu-Gi-Oh! Legacy of the Duelist: Link Evolutions - 6/10

a single player yugioh game where you can duel through iconic scenes from the og anime and beyond kind of the unrefined, solo play version of master duel. its not as good imo, and master duel brought a lot of quality of life upgrades from this one, but if ur after a decent single player yugioh game this ones ur bag :'] this version has 6 different animes to chose from and u can play thru all of them, build ur own decks, etc etc. theres also an online mode but its pretty dead and if u wanna duel real people u might as well just use master duel

19/03 - Chasing Static - 5/10

having just buried his father, chris pulls over to a late night cafe after getting lost in the welsh countryside. while exploring the area, he finds a mysterious bunker and a voice over the radio pretty 'meh' horror game but i rly like the ps1 style graphics, always a plus for me. the actual plot and gameplay is fine, nothing too special, and its Extremely short, but not much else to say :']

20/03 - Steven Universe: Unleash the Light - 8/10

more gems are determined to disturb the peace of era 3 and its once again up to steven and the crystal gems to stop them another steven universe rpg!! apparently this is the 3rd in the trilogy, but the first one was never ported to ps so ive only ever played this one and 2 fghj BUT honestly?? these are rly good rpgs; the art style is gorgeous, the gameplay is fun, obviously the characters are cute too. its just a blast :] the Big Gripe is that its glitchy as hell fghjk you can get stuck in certain areas and be unable to move unless u exit the game, but i still highly recommend for su and rpg fans alike

28/03 - The Addams Family: Mansion Mayhem - 3/10

when a seedy businessman shows up on their doorstep looking to buy and demolish their house, the addams family have to scour the place of artefacts to prove their homes importance .....i mean. its. fine. its ur standard 3d platformer fare, nothing to write home about really. its one of those overpriced ip games that dont take long to beat at All. i only got it for the meme and cause it was on sale and like i say, not bad, but its just kinda meh. the "story" is boring and feels not very addams-y but at this point thats par for the fkn course for anything with their names on it fghj

31/03 - First Class Trouble - 1/10

its a shitty among us clone, and thats all i have to say about this mess this thing has been on my backlog for 2 years and i NEVER. thought id every finish it because its Literally just among us but not fun. all the trophies are online only and specific as Fuck. the only reason i did it is cause i unlocked One (1) trophy when it was free on ps plus with my mates and it was bugging the fuck outta me. so yuh. dont play fghj. p sure the servers are gonna die soon too

07/04 - Burnout Paradise: Remastered - 7/10

burnout paradise has you getting behind the wheel in one of the best racing/stunting/crashing games in the world. try not to wreck your car Too bad MAN. this bad boys been on my backlog for 3 years, holy shit. i bought it because i was nostalgic and i remember playing the original with my brother all the time, so it was defo an experience to go back :'] while it is a very fun game as a whole, it gets repetitive pretty quickly, even with all the new cars you unlock, and some of the online trophies can be a pain to get (2 specifically involving full lobbies) BUT cant deny its an entertaining time

27/04 - LEGO DC Super-Villains - 7/10

the justice league have gone missing and a new band of "heroes" have swept in to take their place. our titualar super villains arent too pleased about this standard lego game fare :'] if i had to pick, im certainly more of a dc fan simply for harley, and lego games are always fun collectathon type deals, so this wasnt half bad!! lego games humour is always a lil hit or miss, but these things are always aimed at younger audiences anyway so eh what can ya do

04/05 - Overwatch 2 - 5/10

one of the most famous fps shooter games out there, do i rly need to explain overwatch to you?? no your eyes do NOT deceive you, i did in fact 100% overwatch 2. not Completely on my own merit, i had the help of a boosting group, but still!!!! twas a journey :'] i never played overwatch in its heyday so i cant speak to how it Used to be, but from what ive played now its just... not rly for me. i like the characters a bunch, and the world/story building is interesting, but thats not rly the focus of the game itself tho i wish it was

07/05 - Control - 9/10

jesse faden inadvertently becomes the new director of the federal bureau of control aftering finding the previous one dead seemingly from a self inflicted gunshot. overtaken by entities called the Hiss, jesse fights to reclaim the Oldest House, while also searching for her long lost brother WHEW!! love this one holy SHIT. big big BIG scp vibes, the way this game handles its horror and aesthetic is brilliant and exactly my cup of tea. tbh i found the actual gameplay the least interesting part fghj i would've spent the whole time going around collecting files and reports just to read them if i could :'] that being said, combat and traversal feel Awesome, every new ability is so fun to use. great stuff!!

10/05 - Carrion - 9/10

you are an unholy, fleshy, offal abomination, free from ur confines within a secret underground facility. time to escape. and kill everyone on the way out :] honestly ive been wanting to play this for ages so im glad i finally could! just as fun as i expected, visually amazing i Love the pixel art style paired with this rly disgusting Thing ur controlling dfghj its incredibly satisfying to just grab people up and start ripping them to shreds. u unlock new abilities as u progress and encounter stronger enemies as u go, but the feeling of being some unstoppable force never rly goes away (positive). p short game, but very fun!!

13/05 - Coffee Talk 2: Hibiscus & Butterfly - 7/10

coffee talk 2 takes place a while after the first game, introducing a couple of new faces and reconnecting with old ones this games just p pleasant to play :'] like the first one, its a kind of a barrista/visual novel type deal where people come in and u make them drinks/listen to their stories/etc etc. the musics lovely, the arts p nice, but like the first one i feel like its all a bit surface level. i never Really feel like i connect with any of these characters, even the returning ones, but its still a pretty game and theres not much else to say about it fghj

18/05 - A Way Out - 5/10

two guys, brought together by a mutual goal, escape prison and begin a journey to exact revenge on the man who ruined their lives tbh i didnt actually finish this game since the plat pops Wayyy before the end and i already knew how it ended so... yeah fghj i only played this for a platinum bingo event im doing rn and needed a co-op game to do so here we are :'] that being said, its an interesting story with interesting mechanics!! defo fun to play with a friend if ur looking for a short impactful story to get thru together

23/05 - NORCO - 10/10

kay, finally coming home after her mother passes away from cancer, learns that she had been doing some investigating in the nearby swamps and begins trying to figure out what she was looking for a sci-fi southern gothic point-n-click game that BLEWWW me away dude. holy shit this story is so SO good, i loved every second of it. its such an interesting setting with worldbuilding to match, gorgeous art, haunting soundtrack AUGH cannot recommend this one enough

01/06 - Heavy Rain - 2/10

the origami killer kidnaps ethan mars' remaining son and he must go on a set of trials to get him back. and other stuff happens too i guess. bad. its just bad dfgh. lets try to start with a positive tho; the actual concept is pretty cool and the mystery/crime stuff is alright, but the writing and characters are fkn boring and annoying and gross. i hated ethan as a main character, i thought he was so annoying, the plot twist makes no sense, and all the female characters are so clearly written by a man who hates women. yuck.

01/07 - Pesterquest - 10/10

you're a lean, mean, friend making machine and the ceasless call of platonic relations beckons you even now!!! time to befriend some regular degular teens (and aliens) okay so HUGE preface on this game you kinda.... Have to have read homestuck to understand literally any of it. im a homestuck fan, and ive never read the epiloges or the "sequel" and even I was lost on some points, but REGARDLESS i fkn loved this so much. its just ur run-of-the-mill visual novel, but i genuinly had such a fun time revisiting these characters and seeing them again that i dont even care dfghj and great art too!!

04/07 - Hiveswap Friendsim - 7/10

you have just crash landed on a strange alien planet. your bones are broken, you're lost and alone, you're hungry and thirsty. only one thing can save you now... FRIENDSHIP!!!! so i think i was supposed to play this one before pesterquest dfghj but i got too excited to see characters i already knew again :'] ANYWAY this game acts as a little introduction to some characters you can meet in the ill-fated homestuck point and click adventure game, hiveswap. while i didnt find this one as engaging as pesterquest, it was still an interesting insight into alternian life!! which im all about. i doubt it ever will, but i wonder if they'll ever port hiveswap to console... a man can dream

09/07 - Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney Trilogy - 5/10

apollo justice, an up-and-coming defence attorney, begins his journey at the wright anything agency so i wanna start with a good thing off the bat because my opinion of this collection kinda plummeted towards the end. i rly like the 3d models, i think they capture the same level of character that the og 2d ones did and add new dimensions to everyone. everything else tho... hh idk man, i just rly didnt vibe with these at all, which sucks. i feel like it was just ret con after ret con after character assassination. big L tbh

23/07 - Grotto - 8/10

in the middle of the woods, in the heart of a mountain, lives a soothsayer. a startamer. using the constellations, you must provide the people who visit you with answers to their most pressing questions the art style of this game kinda drew me in, and the story ended up surprising me with how dark and interesting it is!! you end up making a lot of descisions that seem to have no good options, or giving people an answer that they end up misinterpreting for the worse due to ur limited options. for playing such a limited perspective, you get such a clear, vivid picture of whats happening outside your little cave. really interesting stuff

27/07 - Broken Age - 8/10

vella and shay are two teenagers with seemingly totally unrelated lives. they long for change, for freedom, and to do that they must break the traditions forced onto them from birth a point-n-click adventure with a surprisingly star studded cast!! and i didnt even know this was made by the same people who made psychonauts until i started it up :'] which means the art and humour were brilliant! honestly super fun, engaging characters and fun puzzles, and the way these two finally converge was honestly so brilliantly done, i did Not expect it at all

31/07 - Horizon Zero Dawn - 9/10

aloy grew up an outcast her whole life and its only when her past comes knocking does she finally begin to get some answers to her life long questions. also theres a bunch of huge killer robots :] this ones been on my backlog for so damn long, im so happy i finally got around to finishing it!! the combat in this is so addicting, i played it for like a week straight going for all the side quests n upgrades n such. the story was fkn brilliant, i feel like it balanced the the sci-fi elements really well with all the more fantasy stuff, and theres even some horror aspects that i really enjoyed!! im docking a point for glinthawks tho. FUCK glinthawks.

06/08 - Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective - 8/10

a man wakes up in a junkyard about to watch a woman get shot by an assassin. he has to help her but theres only one problem: hes dead. using his new ghostly powers, "sissel" must discover the truth behind his death and the strange events taking place tonight, before he disappears forever a game that id been super excited to play for how much it was hyped up by literally everyone i mentioned it to :'] the mechanics are simple but super satisfying, very rube goldberg machine, and the story is a tantalising mystery that unfolds at a great pace with plot twists and reveals happening at just the right moments to keep you engaged

10/08 - Cat Quest 3 - 9/10

the third installment of the cat quest rpg games takes on the open ocean, as our main lil cat buddy and their ghostly guide search the purribean for the north star treasure!! listen, i fkn Loveeeee the cat quest games and i recommend them to anyone who will listen and i mean that from the bottom of my heart. this one continues the trend of fun combat, an excessive amount of cat puns, and a surprisingly in-depth story that carried over from previous games. my big gripe is that this game is short as hell and it feels like even outside the story, there isnt as much to do as there is in the past games. still incredibly fun :]

27/11 - Bioshock: Remastered - 7/10

after your plane crashes in the middle of the ocean, you wind up in an underwater city called rapture where things seem to have gone completely tits up the gamer is back after 3 months with a game almost 4 years in the making on my backlog :'] not sure if this'll be the last game i have the time to complete this year but hopefully i got time for one more at least!! so theres a reason it took me so long to finish this one, its just cause it never rly clicked with me :[ which sucks cause its a rly cool premise with a ooky spooky atmosphere which is totally my vibe. ive been adamant i wouldnt play the rest (mainly because i thought the remasters would have the online trophies but, to my surprise, they dont) so time will tell if i keep on goin with this series

[zombieclieo]

"D'you think she cares?" His voice came across as a little worse for wear than it oughta. Death usually restored the body to peak order aside from a few scars, but here Martyn's throat was, scratchy and harder to parse than he woulda liked.

"What?" Came the reply. Scott shook his hand out, dirt particulates separating from his fingers as he did.

"Cleo, I mean. Obviously." Martyn laughed, leaning back against Scott's pretty little house, hand waving in a mockery of one of Scott's common gestures.

"Why would I know what Cleo thinks of you? We aren't teammates this go around." Scott turns back to his work, but it's still obvious how the previous victor felt about this game by how his voice catches at 'go around'.

Martyn winces, but he shakes it off within milliseconds. "You two are always allies! There hasn't been a go when you two haven't been conspiring. I'm asking because--"

"Martyn." Scott's voice was sharper than he meant, and it softens as he continues. "For one, I won't ask how you know more about mine and Cleo's relationship than either of us have told you. You and Grian get so clammy about that nonsense. For two, she hasn't mentioned you."

Martyn doesn't flinch, but Scott can tell that hurt him. Scott lived with him for a while, he knows. Martyn thinks himself infinitely cool and collected, but he isn't. He never has been and Scott's pretty sure he never will be. The blonde coughs. "Cool."

"Cool?" Scott laughs, looking up. Arcing underneath his hair from his right temple under his hair and around his throat is a lightning scar, and it glows slightly at the middle of his throat in a cool cyan. It aches. Martyn knows it aches, especially when Scott laughs. "Martyn, you were soulbound two goes ago. I know she's cool and all, but what's your hangup? Are you this hung up on Ren? Me?"

"What! Scott, you're having a giraffe. I don't get hung up on people."

There is a poignant silence. Martyn shifts uncomfortably. Scott rolls his eyes and returns to his work.

"Scott, I just wanna know how she is. If she ever thinks about me. I don't--I try not to think about it. The past, I mean. But it just... I may die but the soul lives on. Bones are buried but the soul is still here and it still feels that little string, y'know? We had the same soul, for a while. The same beating heart." Martyn finally moves from his ramrod straight stance, squatting beside Scott, a gloved hand extended.

The palm is cold. Ice fucking cold. The diamond shaped mark seems to give his flesh freezerburn as he nears the scar to any other living being. Any that are around, anyway. Martyn is cagey about it--Scott wasn't being mean. He has four of those diamonds across his body, though he supposes he's lucky that they're all... eh, relatively easy to hide. The one on his cheek, the back of his neck, and right over his heart were harder to conceal, though. That, and the massive ragged timepiece seemingly slashed across his back. The scar that never healed. The reminder to keep his ears open. To listen. To betray when it suits him. That one still pulses red, sore and obvious.

Scott doesn't know that a diamond burns for him as Martyn nears him. He doesn't know that it gets a little harder to breathe as the scalding diamond on the back of his neck makes itself very known. Bound, again and again, had he always found himself following after another? Hitching his soul into pieces again and again? Where would a diamond appear this time, for Jimmy? Where else would the cracks spread? Scott flicks his nose.

"You're absolutely doing that thing again where you just stare at me and look pensive. Fine, you want to know so bad what I think they think? Fine, if it'll get you to either go away or help me plant." Scott finally stands up fully and stretches his back out, then his arms high above his head. He reaches over to grasp Martyn's upper arm. "Cleo is a complicated person. They do care. They also don't. You aren't the center of her universe and that is fine. For both of you. Worrying about what they think won't make you less afraid of what comes next. Holding onto us--me, Cleo, the Ahaliance, Ren, that won't give you the peace you're looking for. You and Grian hold on tighter to the past than the rest of us. Let us go, Martyn, and let what joy you can have now happen."

The diamond hurts like hell. Like Martyn has slammed back into a pool of lava and it is eating him alive. It feels like dying when Scott holds his arm. He doesn't react. Scott doesn't know everything. "Alright, alright, I don't need an intervention here, mate! I'm genuinely just trying to see if she's mad at me, and you're talking different breeds and stronger memories. Bah. Maybe you're holding on to Cleo."

"Am I, then?" Scott snorts, and thankfully releases Martyn's arm. The burning subsides, somewhat.

"I think you are, honestly. I look away and suddenly you're gaslighting and gatekeeping and girlbossing! What about my gaslighting?" Martyn holds a hand to his chest as he fakes haughtiness.

"You're a bad liar, Littlewood." Scott kneels back in the dirt. "Now help me plant before you go back to our canary."

Martyn snorts, this time. "Our canary. Yeah, Scott, only me and Grian hold on." He does listen, though, and helps cover wheat seeds with dirt. As his right hand connects with the soil, it aches like a red winter, cold and bloody. He misses Ren. He misses Cleo, and Pearl, and Mumbo and everyone. He feels like there's a world where they could have been happy together, where they played games and laughed around Christmastime. As he looks at Scott, he wonders...

"Do you know what Christmas is?" His voice is more hesitant than he means for it to be.

"No, why?" Scott replies, shoving half a tuber deep into the earth.

"No reason. Just an old story." Then, that was the difference. He and Grian knew there was something beyond. No one else remembers what life extant a Watcher's game is like. He raises his head to watch the darkening horizon. Scott boxes his ear with a smile, and he shrugs. At least they have tonight to pretend like She wasn't watching. Like they were friends planting a field.

[waspstar]

tagged by @/underthewirez, tyyyy!!!! What’s the origin of your blog title? i dont have one, but the first line in my bio is a lyric from the song river of orchids by xtc, my favorite band

OTP(s) + ship names: sanuso and tomdoc and me+the doctor hehehehehghghgh

Favorite color: yellow navy blue and um chartreuse

Favorite game: phantasmagoria 2: a puzzle of flesh

Song stuck in your head: im listening to something as i type this so i cant really say. but im listening to psycho surrender by rupert hine

Weirdest habit/trait?: having a hard time thinking of one that isnt tmi lol. pulling off the little plastic rims on plastic bottles and chewing them maybe.

Hobbies: collecting records....fashion... id say drawing but drawing is very serious to me. and its all i do most of the time.

If you work, what's your profession?: chronically unemployed. im 20 and my parents still havent taken me to get an id.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?: record store cashier. or a roadie, lol

Something you're good at: ummm typing fast? fixing tech issues?

Something you're bad at: cleaning and keeping habits lol

Something you love: being obsessed with something. and eating out (LIKE AT RESTAURANTS)

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: star trek one piece xtc

Something you hate: feeling like theres something tense going on between the people around you, like you missed an argument

Something you collect: vintage records

Something you forget: putting away food im done with

What's your love language?: idk, not mentally well enough yet

Favorite movie/show?: star trek voyager is my favorite show. better off dead is my favorite movie

Favorite food: mozzarella sticks with ranch

Favorite animals: raccoons, giraffes, elephants

What were you like as a child?: weird creepy and impulsive

Favorite subject in school: science

Least favorite subject in school: math

What's your best character trait?: loyal?

What's your worst character trait?: easy to anger

If you could change any detail about your day, what would it be?: this day specifically? i wish i didnt stay up all night and slept at 5am like i said i would.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?: peter tork.

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!): its very very nasty and randy. discipline by ultradiplr on ao3. its a sigma/reader. sigma is a character from overwatch. i still love the character, but i really dont care for overwatch anymore. and usually i dont think of sigma anymore when i read it. but i return to it semi often. i tag anyone who wants to do it. i mean it! please if you want to do it! none of my friends are active on tumblr anymore so i really dont have anyone to tag. frown.

[elisaphoenix13]

A Winter Soldier's Pet

He was doing this for Bucky. And really, Tony wouldn't care. He actually said that as long as they didn't bring home an elephant or a giraffe, he didn't care about more animals. They certainly had the space for it, and Stephen could briefly communicate with them so any new pets could live in harmony with the others. Athena and Emir we're well behaved but if the new pet didn't understand, that would be potential chaos.

But it was possible so that was how Steve found himself at the nearest pet shelter. He wanted to get Bucky a companion that could help him, especially when he wasn't there, and considered a dog. Bucky loved Athena and was more relaxed when interacting with her, but every dog he looked at didn't seem the right fit. They were too hyper, too small, or just a little too old. Bucky wasn't a fan of small dogs anyway. In fact, Steve was pretty sure no one in the tower cared for them. Flynn was honestly the closest thing one could get to a small dog and while he was cute, he was glad the fox stuck with Quill. Because of the Celestial's powers, the fox would forever be a baby, and he currently still had some extreme separation anxiety. 

If Quill was gone, the kit would loudly voice his displeasure. It had gotten a lot better...but it was also a good thing he was cute and behaved when Quill was home.

So he went to check out the cats instead. Bucky liked Tibbs too and even caught the two taking a nap on the couch before. Steve had trouble when looking at the cats as well. None of them gave him the feeling that they would be good for his boyfriend, and so with some disappointment, he was about to leave when he saw one more cat. A snow white one that was lazing about on a cat tower and looking directly at him with a disinterested expression and Steve knew that was what he was looking for.

"I'll take that one." He says to the volunteer walking with him.

"Sure...but I have to warn you that she isn't very social. She likes to do her own thing."

"I don't think that will be a problem." Steve says. "Is she ready to go home right now?"

"Yup! She's been fixed, microchipped, and caught up on all of her shots." The girl says with a smile. "Do you have any other pets at home?"

"Uhh…" Steve couldn't tell her about the tiger and wolf, so he just stretched the truth a little. "A couple of cats, a dog, and a fox. They belong to others though on different floors so it won't be a problem."

"Sounds good! I'll get you the paperwork and something to take her home in!"

That had been it. The girl walked away to get the paperwork as well as a temporary carrier, and Steve pulled out the money he would need to pay the adoption fee. When the volunteer came back, she walked into the cat room to retrieve the cat and put her in the carrier, and to Steve's relief, the cat didn't seem to mind. So far she seemed a lot like Tibbs, which was just what Bucky needed.

The girl came back out after closing the carrier - and the door to the room - and led Steve over to a table where she set the paperwork. "Just need you to sign here. These other papers are for your records in case she gets lost or sick. Did you want to give her a different name?"

Steve looks at her. "What's her name?"

"We called her Alpine." The girl answers with a smile and Steve shakes his head.

"I think we'll keep the name."

"Great!" When Steve finishes with the paperwork and he hands over the money, she motions toward the carrier. "She's all yours! Thank you for adopting!"

Steve thanks her in return and takes the carrier after the volunteer says her last goodbye, and he carefully carries Alpine out to the car. Bucky had no idea this was happening since Steve wanted to surprise him, and the man was napping on the couch when Steve left for the animal shelter anyway. He did stop by a pet store on the way back to the tower so he could get a few essentials for Alpine, and then drove home after offering her a small handful of treats. Whatever else they could get her, Steve figured he and/or Bucky could get later. 

Alpine did meow nervously during the last few minutes of the ride, but settled when Steve pulled into the garage and turned off the car. He grabbed the pet supplies out of the back, got out, and then circled the car to get Alpine out of the passenger seat before he headed for the elevator. Steve hoped this wouldn't backfire on him and that Bucky would love her like he assumed he would, but he wasn't too worried. Bucky really liked all the pets. Even Flynn when he wasn't crying.

"You'll like it here. Our floor is a lot bigger than the room you were in and you don't have to share it with any cats." Steve tells Alpine who meows curiously through the holes of the carrier she was sticking her nose through. "Unless Tibbs warms up to you. Which he probably will if he likes Goose, so he might come to visit."

Normally Steve would have felt ridiculous talking to an animal, but it was the norm with all the animals that were a part of the family. Everyone talked to the pets so he didn't feel insane at the thought. There were definitely weirder things.

Steve looks toward the doors when the elevator pings, and he steps out onto the floor when they open and he sets the carrier and bag down. Bucky was absent from the couch so either he was elsewhere on the floor or was upstairs.

"Buck?" Steve calls out.

"Yeah?" The soldier walks out of the kitchen with a piece of peanut butter toast in his hand and he stops when he sees the carrier. "What's that?"

"I... thought she might help. When I'm not home you know?" Steve says as Bucky moves closer after putting his toast down. "I've seen how Emir helps Scott sometimes. Tibbs, Athena... I'd say Flynn but I think Quill helps him more-"

He was rambling. Steve didn't ramble. But he finally got himself to stop when Bucky crouched down to open the carrier and Alpine poked her head out to examine her new surroundings before the new human. Even with his vibranium arm, Bucky was gentle when he reached out to scratch under her chin, and Alpine purred contently. Steve knew he chose correctly then. Even though the volunteer said Alpine wasn't very social, she took to Bucky straight away and he even smiled.

"You know this means that Tibbs will be down to visit now right?" Bucky asks and Steve laughs.

"Yeah, I know. You like her?" Steve asks.

Bucky looks up at him and smiles. "So far." 

He gently scoops up the cat and Steve watches with surprise. He didn't expect Alpine to let that happen. At least not right away.

"Want some tuna?" Bucky asks her.

"Bucky, I bought her cat food." Steve says with a fond huff.

"She's in a new place. She deserves tuna."

"Fair enough," the captain laughs.

The tuna had really been what solidified Bucky and Alpine's rapidly forming bond. The winter soldier opened a can of tuna for her and set her on the counter to eat it, and she made quick work of it before batting the empty can off the counter. She then jumped down after it to bat it around some more, and when she finally got bored of it, she wandered around to explore her new home. 

In the meantime, Bucky cleaned up the can, ate his toast, and then he and Steve set up her litter box and food bowls which were all filled with the proper fillings. Alpine walked over just as they finished to investigate her food and water bowls. She drank some water before Bucky took her upstairs to their bathroom to show her the litter box, and when she started to use it, they went back down to the living room to watch tv.

"She's adjusting faster than I thought." Steve says.

"You never told me her name. I asked you about it a little bit ago." Bucky points out.

"Alpine. The volunteers named her and I liked it."

Bucky nods. "It fits her."

"The next step is to introduce her to the other pets." Steve says.

"We'll give her a day or two to get settled."

"If Tibbs doesn't find her first. You know he has the run of the tower."

Bucky laughed and they settled onto the couch to watch tv, and to their surprise, Alpine walked down and over to them. Even more surprising was that she jumped up onto Bucky's lap and curled up for a nap. She purred contently as Bucky slowly petted her with his flesh hand and Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Thanks Steve. She's...she's great." Bucky says softly.

"I think she knows that she's needed. I know that despite what you claim, you don't like being alone. I thought she would help when you're not on a mission with me." Steve explains.

"Yeah, well, I can't keep crawling into bed with Mom and Dad." Bucky jokes.

"You know they don't mind. You'll even be able to take Alpine with you." Steve laughs.

"True. They're cooking dinner for everyone by the way."

"You know who's cooking and what?"

"Tony's making his lasagna." Bucky says.

"We better get up there early then. Both for a chance to get dinner and so we can talk to Stephen about talking to Alpine." Steve points out.

Which they did a couple of hours later. They left Alpine behind so she could get used to her new home and they went upstairs for dinner. Steve first approached Stephen to talk to him about the new pet while Bucky helped get the dishes out, and the sorcerer actually chuckled. Stephen and Tony were both unfazed with the news, and Stephen agreed to talk to Alpine and the other animals once the new feline was settled so that they knew of each other and lived peacefully. He actually was able to talk to the other pets that night since Emir and Flynn came up with Quill, Scott, and Cassie, so they knew the new cat wasn't an intruder.

When Steve and Bucky went downstairs and eventually crawled into bed for the night, Alpine hopped up to join them. She curled up at the foot of the bed with a happy purr and that answered one of Steve's questions about what they would need for her. They certainly wouldn't be bothering with a bed.

"What about you?" Bucky mumbles sleepily.

"Seeing that she helps you will be enough for me." Steve answers softly. "I'll always do what I can to make life better for you. For us . I'm with you--"

"Till the end of the line." Bucky finishes with a whisper before finally falling asleep.

It was their promise to each other after all.

[snake-0il-moved]

STEAM-POWERED STARTERS

roleplay starters taken from steam powered giraffe lyrics

change pronouns to your liking

"Is there such a thing as too much of a good thing?"

"I'm rather crazy, and I never thought I was crazy."

"Set me free"

"I let myself go."

"I don't want to live my life alone."

"It's easy to be angry at something that you don't understand."

"What’s the worth o’living if you can’t make a living?"

"Open your heart to me."

"You gotta get to the emergency room."

"You're ready to go far."

"Come with me, I'll show you how to be a metal man!."

"What is life?"

"What is real?"

"Why do living things need feelings?"

"Don't want to hear you say I love you."

"Will I ever be something with feelings to hide?"

"You're not a living thing with feelings."

'Unhinged laughter'

"Everything is fine as long as there’s a you and me."

"We don't have to worry anymore."

"We’ll keep us moving like a soliton."

"It will kill me, it’ll be messy."

"If my logic isn’t sound, what’s keeping our feet on the ground?"

"I’d rather be up in the clouds, but I’d worry, about coming down"

"Here we are, feeling worlds apart."

"Is it wrong to be pulled along by a song?"

"But if you don't go out at all, you'll never feel the rain."

"Functioning just fine, I'm alive."

"We might have our share of ticks, but that's how we get our kicks."

"The best shape is who you are."

"I want more from this stupid life."

"Do you want more from this stupid life?"

"To be pristine, you must be joking!"

"I have awakened to the same thing."

"I don't have the heart to send you untruthful words."

"Reading love and writing love, technically the same thing."

"I am a living thing, I am not a human being."

"I can't see straight no more."

"I'm still so far away."

"Lyin' awake like I've been before."

"It seems to me okay is the only word I say today."

"Same lines that you rehearse."

"Tryin’ to swallow your worth."

"They left me!"

"What's in the sky?"

"There must be something more."

"Now we’re tangled in a web like flies!"

"Happiness sits in the palm of your hand"

"There's no time for breaking down"

"Please take this away from me"

"I now have everything, it is the greatest thing."

"Apparently there's parts of me that stick around too long."

"I promise I'll be back soon."

"I told you I'd hold you."

"I will return."

"I waited so long, I no longer care."

"You told me you'd hold me."

"Looks like there's no place to run."

"So this is pain?"

"I feel alive!"

"Scream, howl like a banshee."

"You can’t save your soul."

"Die, die, die!"

"Rise, rise, rise!"

"I’ve always hungered for their plight."

"Those cats are bizarre."

"Oh what a taste and oh what a thrill."

"You fill up my black toxic heart with your hate."

"I am the horror that eats you inside!"

"The doors are all locked down."

"Sirens are blaring."

"How could I forget?"

"I've seen this all before."

"She had fire in her eyes."

"She was brimming with hyper cosmic ultra vibes."

"He's charming."

"Daring and dashing and just when you need him he's there."

"He's got your back."

"I can tell by the look on your face, you've got some things on your plate."

"You must remember, you're only human.

"You've got better things to do."

"Your memories they stick, mine I can't delete."

"Remember to stand before you can fly."

"Oh the choice is up to you, nobody else but you."

"Maybe I'm only human with rusted metal plating."

"Hope is very hard."

"Hope is very hard when you've lost the thing you had before."

"Your smile said that you cared and It felt so wonderful."

"I helped you up when you'd fall. You did the same for me too."

"Though mine is metal and yours is flesh. Our differences make this the best."

"I grew numb to that feeling of pain."

"Things get quite mad when you’ve got no soul."

"But as far as I run, and as hard as I try, I can never seem to make it out."

"It’s the truth that I dread.

"Tomorrow we’ll be back to tearing wires from our head."

"There’s no one left to blame, just the things that I have said."

"Tonight you are dead."

"I thought it was the end of days."

"Never growing, never dying, never learning, it’s concerning."

"I will never be free."

"I want the world to know that I am in control."

"As they look upon my broken soul they’ll say “She was her own worst foe”."

"Find some nerve for this coward now."

"You can weld me to my knees but I won’t pray for mercy, no."

"I could never walk easily through life."

"Oh darling, I've arrived to you with my heart already in two."

"I always told myself I’d never fall in love."

"I hope it’s not petty."

"I can feel it when you say you love me."

"They say our thoughts are all mechanical."

"Can’t help being the way that I am."

"But you don’t like that way that I feel"

"Don’t wish the pain on you it’s so sore."

"Eat your heart out, Cassanova."

"They say it gets better, but it don’t get better."

"And I don’t want you to weep, but your tears are sweet wine."

"Such lovely tears."

"I don't think there's a name for it, but it's kinda like being in love."

"Well, it's the way she makes me feel inside like I’m not like the rest or any other guy."

"Oh no."

"It couldn't be him, hadn't he died long ago?"

"How could anyone hope to survive?"

"No, I didn't want to see what I've become."

"I certainly am a long way from home."

"I was built to explore."

"I must carry on."

"Man, that's really cool."

"We don't know how to dance."

"We just carry ourselves in an overdriven stance."

"I wake up and no one else is around, but her."

"There's no one to tell us what to do."

"I’m not alone against the world anymore."

"Look out, earth."

"You left me all alone."

"What future can I hope to see?"

"There's a void in my soul."

"l am not just a machine, I'm just a person holding onto a dream."

"Just give in."

"Watch and see."

"Lately your love of life has been fading."

"It'll be alright."

"You're not in this alone."

"There was a rift between you and me, but happiness was a choice."

"It’s never as simple as it seems."

"I found a way into your heart."

"You saved me, saved me from own foolish blight.

"I’m strong now, strong enough to cry only at night.

"There's a world out there waiting for you."

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Rather than intertwine your fingers with his, you reached out and slapped your palm against his in a high-five. The action stunned each of the males around you, although Suna was the first to comprehend what occurred, instantly stifling back laughter at how wide Osamu’s eyes had become. Their reactions did not phase you one bit, a fact that was illustrated by the confident smile plastered against your face.

“It’s going to take more than flowers to earn my forgiveness, gremlin,” Once you were stood on the step below the paralyzed male, you directed your hand to slip through your hair to the back of your neck, before ushering the strands to collide with his face. The cook pinched his eyelids together, then turned away from you to lessen the impact. “But I guess it’s a start.” Lifting your shoulders into a nonchalant shrug, you descended down the remaining steps until your platforms connected with the unpaved road. 

Waiting for him was a curtsey you were not interested in bestowing upon him. Instead, you commenced down the pathway on your own, leaving him to arrive at his own leisure. For the one minute you were alone with the creatures of the night, you ventured to label the emotions ripping apart the lining of your stomach.

Raising your hand to the light, the diamond on your finger shinned with a brilliance that resembled the love you once shared. A love that no longer held the spark it did years ago. But seeing him tonight, knowing that he abandoned his selfish desires for you – a little seed of hope was planted. The question was, would he tend to the seed? Would he provide it the sunshine it required to bloom? Or would he destroy it with the icy indifference you were forced to become accustomed to?  

The sound of another’s footsteps escorted your thoughts back to reality, and instinctively your hand was lowered back to its post. Osamu matched your pace with ease once he caught up, but he was slightly surprised by the bounce on your heel – you were walking like someone who had somewhere to be. He was certainly thankful that he left the flowers at the car, as you were clearly in no mood to receive them.

“You sure walk fast for someone with short legs.” A light chuckle accompanied his words, sending your heart rate back into a frenzy. Sometimes you pondered if your heart and mind were on completely different pages on the subject of love. Your heart would accept him, without any reservations. Your mind, on the other hand, was warning you against overstaying your welcome.

If your relationship was fated to expire – what would you do?

“Not everyone can be a giraffe. If you wanted someone taller you should have dated Ushijima.” The retort was drained of any audible emotion with your mind consumed by the anxieties of disobeying your destiny.

“Out of everyone in the world, why did you think of that guy?” Osamu dragged a hand through his hair, unintentionally adding a little fluff. He was a little confused why everyone was so damn obsessed with the guy ever since high school.

“Is he not tall?” Pausing, you allowed your gazes to meet, only to convey your disinterest in continuing the conversation.

“Yeah…” He almost felt like cowering under the intensity of your stare, it was a miracle he was able to choke out a response.

“Point made.” Maintaining eye-contact was far too strenuous with the weight of your emotions smothering you, and yet you were unable to rip your scrutiny away. How badly did you want his arms around you? Was it more than the desire to run away?

“Okay… But I wasn’t insulting you.” The emptiness glazing over your y/e/c irises sunk a wedge into his chest. Desperate to draw out the love you were suppressing, he closed the gap between you, slipping his arms around your waist. You titled your head as he nuzzled into your neck. His fluttering eyelashes brushed against the sensitive spot behind your ear, causing you to shiver unwillingly. “You know that I love your legs.” Sliding his hand from your waist to the small of your back, he applied a tender kiss to your neck.

“Do I know that?”

The hoarseness in your throat sent his blood rushing to his lower body, generating a haze that blurred the thoughts in his head. He knew you were seeking vulnerability; pure sentiments that he starved you of.

“You should, and I’m the worst for not telling you it more often.” He was not quite done with your neck, but he vowed to return after satisfying your needs. After pressing another peck against your flesh, he lifted his head to align your forehead with his for a brief moment. 

“I love you, y/n. I knew I loved you when we were sixteen, making out when our friends were fighting in the gym.” Overwhelmed by his own confessions, his breaths became far more spaced out and heavy. “I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you when we were eighteen, and you told my mother without any hesitation that you would be giving her grandbabies.” The memory of his mother’s expression kindled a comforting warmth inside you. At first, she was flabbergasted, but ten minutes later she was planning a baby-shower. Funny enough, it was the older twin who shattered everyone’s fantasy by reminding them that you two were too young for children. Needless to say, the twin’s mother was quite upset for the remainder of the evening.

“Oi. I’m not done.” Osamu stole a kiss on the tip of your nose, aiming to draw your attention back to him. He knew that you would likely be reminiscing, and he needed you to hear what came next. “I lost track of what’s important, y/n. But I won’t again. You are my priority. I don’t care about anything else. I can’t be happy without you. The day I proposed to you was the happiest of my life.” Allowing his eyelids to shut, his mouth hovered over yours, searching for your approval. “I know you said you wanted space, but before that... Will you let me remind you of our love?” 

Each inch of your skin burned in the ardor stemming from the entrancing words dripping from his lips. Both of your hands found refuge on his cheeks as you connected your mouth with his, aggressively. Using the hand on your back, he neatly framed your body against his then titled his head, providing you complete access to his mouth. He was in no mood to fight your desires; he would allow you to do what you pleased... to an extent. Removing a hand from his face, your fingers tugged at the bottom of his shirt, a simple action that drew a disapproving groan to vibrate in his throat.

“Baby, we’re in the open.” He did not stop you though, instead he began peppering open-mouthed kisses along your neck, battling the urge to leave a mark.

“Mhmm. Fine. If you don’t want me…” Trailing your tongue against your bottom lip, you attempted to fight your lustful urges by wiggling out of his grip. But he immediately shot down your efforts, keeping your body directly against his.

“Yeah right. You’re not leaving me. Sorry. You’re stuck to me forever.” An artificial frown crept upon his lips as he squished you playfully.

“This is not the human centipede, ‘Samu. I need space!” With his hands hovering around your sides, you knew trouble was brewing.

“You did not just compare hugging me to whatever occurred in that disgusting film.” Grunting, he began tickling your skin in revenge, forcing uncomfortable laughter to erupt from inside you. “Apologize.”

“Okay, okay!! I’m sorry.” Flailing around aimlessly, tears formed at your waterline as your failed to escape the lethal stimulation. “I’m sorry that you’re a punk ass bitch!”

Scoffing at the half-assed apology, he dropped a noisy and sloppy kiss to your cheek. “You’re marrying me, so I guess that makes you Ms. Punk Ass Bitch then.” While he may have been attempting to disgust you, the action filled your heart with a joy that brightened your features.

“Hmmm. I guess it does.”

Let’s do it again, shall we - human centipede 

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: ok, this was KINDA cute, right????? 

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[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 9

The Slaying of the Bobbledragon

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Since slaying a serial-killer dragon is a little outside the party's expertise, they're off to Cauterdale to enlist the aid of the Deathseekers' Guild! Having gotten a good night's sleep at a druid village, and not eaten, they're ready to take on, uh...

Well, some sort of very large monster that Zero kindly drew for me.

In the morning, they rather uneventfully get up and get back on the road, thanking the villagers for their hospitality. And the remainder of the trip to Cauterdale is likewise brief and uneventful, right up until the fire.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: the what Benedict I. (GM): The fire.

Yeah, the forest and the road up ahead are ablaze, sort of blocking passage. The dirt road isn't actively on fire, but the trees on both sides are, making it pretty risky to proceed. The team opts to send Oyobi up ahead to scout the situation- and pretty soon she comes back with a report. Apparently, just past the visible fireline, the forest is totally burned down- just charred stumps as far as she could see, right up to the city walls. The fire itself is just, like, 10 meters wide or so, so it's totally something they could just dash through.

It takes some Animal Handling checks to coax the giraffes through, and the ones that balk get them and their riders a little bit of chip damage from heat and smoke inhalation, but the party is pretty much able to push through to the blasted wasteland of charred tree stumps surrounding Cauterdale.

They notice a few people in strange armor in the distance, doing something near the fire- from the seemingly controlled nature of this burn and the name of the town, they conclude that those are fire squads doing this deliberately, and don't get involved. It's a fine conclusion, and the party begins walking the remaining mile to the city.

As they approach, they notice... a little ways off from the main gates, something is attacking the city walls. Guards atop the walls are manning some sort of huge harpoon guns, and they seem to have already slain several of the... whatever these things are. The remaining one, though, seems larger and more resilient than the others, continuing its assault despite the several harpoons already lodged in its flesh.

What they see is a huge reptilian monster. It's probably not a dragon- no wings, and it doesn't appear to be using a breath weapon- but it's the size of a dragon, with tiny arms, headbutting the metal walls of the town repeatedly.

Orluthe makes his Nature roll to recognize this thing- he's heard of them before. They're called "bobbledragons"- some sort of deformed mutant offshoot of true dragons, incapable of speech or flight or magic but still possessed of monstrous strength and durability.

Luckily, the bobbledragon doesn't seem to be in between them and the main gate- the fight is far enough away that they could potentially just walk up and head into town, assuming they'll open the gates during a situation like this. Hell, they don't even need to open the gates- if the guards just drop a rope, they should be able to just climb over. That seems like a decent plan, so Saelhen and Looseleaf begin working together to draft a use of the Message spell to ask the guards to help them inside.

Then they notice that I've been moving Oyobi's token on the map in the direction of the fight.

Oyobi, blinded by bloodlust and/or extra-credit-in-Severe-Zoology-lust, is determined to help fell the bobbledragon. Their attempts at persuasion fail, and Oyobi, undeterred, continues to charge the giant fucking T-rex that is making huge dents in the walls of a city.

As Oyobi runs for it, and as the party follows behind in hopes of stopping her from making a terrible mistake, the bobbledragon jumps and seizes one of the guards on the wall in its jaws, demonstrating its +10 4d12+7 bite attack by immediately oneshotting its victim.

Looseleaf: oh god we're all going to die. you're using the real t-rex statblock. that thing is challenge eight. it is made for a party of four level eight adventurers, so either we are all going to die here, or the guards are going to show us why they are professional fighters and we are students. Benedict I. (GM): "Shit! It can jump!" "No!" The guards seem upset.

Not promising.

Looseleaf: This thing does sufficient damage to oneshot any of us with a perfectly mediocre hit. Looseleaf right now is kind of thoroughly convinced that Oyobi is actually literally about to die. In that light, Looseleaf is going to message Oyobi again. And she is not going to get any closer. Actually, she's going to back off, put distance between herself and the monster. [Oyobi that thing is going to bite you in half get back here you are going to die.] Benedict I. (GM): Roll Persuasion! DC 20 again. -Looseleaf: 17 / PERSUASION (1)- Oyobi Yamatake: [I'M GONNA LIVE FOREVER!!!]

So... that's a bust, and Oyobi finally reaches the dragon and begins her assault. Miraculously, her flying leap hits, and she digs her sword in... for thirteen damage.

The guards return fire against the bobbledragon, and one of the harpoons catches it in the chest- but it doesn't go down, and the second harpoon- manned by just one guard, after his partner got crunched- misses. Another guard, without a cannon, throws a spear- and gets not only a critical hit, but a max damage critical hit, spearing the thing right in the eye.

...for eleven damage, because these are ordinary CR 1/8 Guards, but still!

Saelhen tries to distract the bobbledragon so Oyobi can run and hide, but... her arrow goes wide, and Oyobi isn't interested in running and hiding anyway. The bobbledragon, targeting whatever did the most damage to it recently with its bite attack, jumps and bites the whole damn harpoon gun out of the guard tower, leaving the guards without heavy weaponry.

And then with its tail, it tries to slap the insect that just stung it in the rear.

...and rolls a 3, meaning Oyobi gracefully backflips over the attack and strikes a dramatic pose.

Looseleaf: God, she did not deserve that dodge. She got so fucking lucky there. Saelhen du Fishercrown: she really didn't Oyobi Yamatake: "When you get to Dragon Hell, tell them Oyobi Yamatake sent you!!"

Looseleaf, in the interest of communicating to Oyobi how much danger she's in, makes use of an upgrade to her Rend Spirit attack she learned while studying Lumiere's notes on pain. With Painread, she can get some feedback back from something whose spirit she disrupts, and figure out exactly how bad a shape it's in. She does so (dealing a cool 16 damage as she does), and learns how huge this thing's remaining hit point pool is, so she can tell Oyobi how unlikely she is to survive long enough to take it down.

...It, uh, it was already pretty hurt when they arrived, and it, um, has nine hit points left. And it's Oyobi's turn.

Oyobi Yamatake: Oyobi dashes forwards, Naruto-runs up to the T-rex's throat, and does a spinning leap that slashes open its jugular. It roars, and the roar swiftly fades off as its breath escapes. Saelhen du Fishercrown: God dammit, Oyobi. Oyobi Yamatake: "YES! YES! B-S-U! B-S-U! B-S-U!" "THAT is how it's DONE!" She is jumping up and down, doing a celebratory dance, the works. "Flawlessed the boss! Hell yeah!"

Yeah, so... I had kind of been planning on her getting oneshot and laid up in the hospital, as a sort of character growth thing and also keeping her out of the way of certain events in town, but, uh... the dice... didn't exactly... share my priorities.

With the bobbledragon slain, and Oyobi doing an extremely obnoxious victory dance, the rest of the party springs into action to stabilize the guard who was used as a chew toy. Thanks to his plate armor, he hasn't lost much blood, but he's got more broken bones than not, and his prognosis wouldn't be good... if it weren't for the healer's kits Looseleaf had the foresight to buy for everyone. Saelhen stabilizes him, and Orluthe calls on his goddess to Lay On Hands to save the guard's life.

Then there's this guy- the captain of the guard, who fought in the battle with a fancy crossbow that shot flaming bolts. He demands to know who the party is, seeming kind of annoyed that they rewarded weakness by saving the guard's life.

Benedict I. (GM): He looks down at your medical kit. "Y'know, all of my men are prepared to fight and die for our home. You really want to take away this man's glory?" The injured guard looks up. "Uh, sir, I- it's fine, actually..." "Feh." Looseleaf: This guy immediately seems like a bad boss. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Oh, he's ridiculous. Okay, that changes the tenor of this conversation somewhat! "...I apologize, sir," says Saelhen, bowing to the guard on his stretcher, "if I have diminished your victory with my carelessness."

And rather than give this guy any more of the time of day, Saelhen asks the random guard his name. (And then I have to give him one and make him a character, whoops.)

Medd Cutter here is thankful for Saelhen's assistance saving his life, and Saelhen pledges to remember his heroism. The commander feels- by design- somewhat left out of the heroism-remembering, and declares that he is REX SCAR, and Saelhen kind of blows him off. He's not happy, but...

Captain Scar is still the sort of person who is very impressed with anyone who rolls up and kills a bobbledragon just because they felt like it, and despite Saelhen's calculated snub, tries to get buddy-buddy with the group of obviously very powerful people who just arrived. He decides to help them through customs without going through the usual processes, much to the chagrin of...

...Long-Tongue, Cauterdale Customs and Border Inspection Officer of Cauterdale, who's very loquacious and wordy and redundantly repeats what she says in different words to phrase things differently in a somewhat unnecessary fashion for no real reason. Rex bullies his way past her, but Saelhen- as another snub, and just to be... nice? (What's her game...?), hands her the 300-page history of the de la Surplus family as collateral for a deferred border inspection.

Inside the walls, Cauterdale is a very crowded place. It's like 80% slum, choked with buildings constructed of a patchwork of scrap metal and discarded siding, without much wood to speak of. The streets are narrow and bustling, and the general vibe around the place is impatient.

The remaining guards escorting them (Rex went off someplace) inform them, when questioned, that the town indeed burns down the forest around them- since they're near the jungle, horrible dangerous things tend to come out of the trees to attack them, and their harpoon defenses are most effective when they can see their attackers coming from a mile away, with no obstructions. Looseleaf asks if bobbledragon attacks are common.

Benedict I. (GM): Another guard shakes his head. "No, that one was pretty crazy. Usually it's just the giant spiders, or the giant mosquitoes, or the mushroom demons." "We've had a few bobbledragons before, but that was like, four at once." Looseleaf: "Oh gods there's already giant spiders?!" "We're not even at- I thought this was a pine forest still!" Benedict I. (GM): "No, that's usually after it rains," Medd says. Looseleaf: Looseleaf casts Druidcraft. Please tell me it's not going to rain. Benedict I. (GM): Nope! Clear skies for now. "Whoa, cool." Looseleaf:"Thank the gods of sea and sky and weather and everything even tangentially related to weather," she says. "No rain." "I hope it never rains, ever again." Benedict I. (GM): "Haha, better stay away from..." "Wait, where are you headed?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "The rainforest," adds Saelhen, mildly. Looseleaf: "Ttttthunderbrush, and yes I know that place is crawling with spiders NOERU SHUT UP,"

Then Looseleaf asks about what they're there for- the Deathseekers' Guild. Unfortunately, the guards tell them that the Deathseekers... probably still exist, but they're like, a weird secret club of old people who think they're too cool to join the guard. They give them a couple leads- apparently the Temple of Andra keeps tabs on them, and also a guard by the name of Mags was the last to see them as they were recently seen leaving the city.

The team splits up- Looseleaf and Orluthe head for the temple, and Oyobi and Saelhen head for the guardhouse to talk to Mags. (Vayen... is still gone, after vanishing as soon as the bobbledragon fight started.) The latter group does their thing next session, so...

After dropping off their rental giraffes, they head inside to meet...

This guy, working the reception desk. He seems to be made of rock, and when he talks he rumbles.

As Looseleaf explains their dilemma and their need for Deathseekers, this guy takes a keen interest in their plight. He's very "hmmmm, iiiiiinteresting, oh i see, you don't say?" about the whole thing, making a very normal interaction seem as ominous as possible.

He tells her that the Deathseekers, to his knowledge, should be back in the city from their unspecified errand inside two days, and offers to take a message.

Looseleaf: "I don't suppose they're looking for a green dragon, are they?" Benedict I. (GM): This guy's smile keeps getting wider. It's kind of creepy. "Hm? What makes you say that?"

As she explains about the dragon, he offers her and Orluthe a candy from a bowl on the desk. After some hemming and hawing out-of-character because the creepy rock man is offering you suspicious candy, they eventually opt to have some, because really, Looseleaf isn't suspicious of this guy. Hers is lemon-flavored. It's tasty.

Then, as she describes the empty tower with the corpse of the torture wizard in it, this guy's demeanor changes suddenly from "creepy wry amusement" to "genuine concern". He tries to put on a poker face, but him having a poker face when he's until now been all creepy-friendly chewing the scenery... stands out. He gives her a strong assurance that the Deathseekers will handle this problem for her.

Benedict I. (GM): "I... thank you, for this information." Looseleaf: "You're welcome. Please, uh, make sure that the Deathseekers get this information as quickly as possible. The dragon eats a corpse a week and there's only three corpses left in the tower, there's a very real deadline on this." Benedict I. (GM): [rolling 1d20+4] (Insight) 17+4 = 21 Looseleaf: Belatedly, Looseleaf realizes she's made a mistake. Benedict I. (GM): "You say... the dragon eats three corpses a week?" "Only three corpses left in the tower?" Looseleaf: Namely: Looseleaf has no good reason to know the fact that the dragon eats a corpse a week. Since she's never met the dragon. Benedict I. (GM): "Curious information." "How did you come across it?" Looseleaf: "Uh, erm, uh." Shit.

Looseleaf opts to tell the truth about Arnie, to avoid spinning a dangerous web of lies for herself- after all, Arnie's not worth lying for. She does describe him in as sympathetic terms as she can, though, and asks this guy not to harm him if possible- she doesn't want to break her word to Arnie if she can help it.

Benedict I. (GM): He takes a moment to process this. "...Very well." "My people will be the soul of discretion." "I thank you very much for your generous contribution to the Ecumene of Understanding."

Looseleaf notices that something is wrong.

This guy is the receptionist. He's not a bishop or anything. He's not even wearing priestly vestments- just a nice suit. And he's speaking as though he's in a position of power- "my people", he says.

And after considering various possibilities, she tries something. A shot in the dark, but...

And the way Looseleaf plays this, is... "quit acting like you don't know what I'm talking about, c'mon, the jig is up". She takes out the letter she found in Lumiere's tower and shows it off, as proof!

And this guy keeps denying it, and getting increasingly more panicked, and looking nervously over at Orluthe, and asking her to please stop, shh shh shh shh, and it's when he begs her to have a conversation with him in private please that she makes the connection. If this guy is affiliated with Lumiere, who's apparently affiliated with some sort of secret conspiracy that's affiliated with some sort of deific usurpation... he maybe doesn't want to have that conversation in front of a cleric.

Looseleaf:"Okay, Orluthe, uhm. Sorry, so," Looseleaf whispers into Orluthe's ear. "Long story short, turns out my sister, who left my village way before I did, ended up falling into some kind of magical secret society. The kind of secret society with Hal Lumiere, i.e. 'the torture wizard who came up with all those pain knives that we all got stabbed a lot with', was apparently a very active member of." Benedict I. (GM):Oh my god, um. Looseleaf: "So, uh, I'm kinda freaking out about that, right now, but if my hunches are right then I'm the sister of someone important in their organization?" Benedict I. (GM): As you start whispering, he tries to interrupt. "Please do not say things to him!" "Please let us speak in private!!" Looseleaf: Oh he's freaked out now huh. "Anyways that's why I am actually indeed going to speak, with this guy, in private," Looseleaf finishes. "And if I don't show up in a half-hour or so, then things have probably gone lopsided." "In which case you should find everyone else and tell them to, I dunno, come save me or whatever." "You got all that?" Benedict I. (GM): The rock man looks distraught. Orluthe Chokorov: "I, uh... think so? This is really... I'm not sure it's safe..."

With a good Persuasion roll, Orluthe agrees to stay behind, and the rock man leads Looseleaf into a backroom whose doors and walls seem warded heavily with some sort of abjuration magic. A secret saferoom.

The man describes the problem: the gods don't know that they exist, or didn't until Looseleaf went and told a cleric of Diamode that they existed. Clerics, in this setting, channel divinity literally- their gods come into their heads to do magic for them, meaning anything a cleric knows is something a god can know, if they care to check.

Benedict I. (GM): "Because if the next time Diamode is in that kid, if she goes looking for that memory..." "I mean, she might not. And you didn't mention anything about our aims, so she might consider it beneath her notice." "But that, right there? That was nearly game over." "And I can't just kill you, because if I did, Yomi would end me." Looseleaf: "Yeah, I'm not incredibly foolish, I haven't actually shown anybody else Yomi's letter." "Nobody knows that Lumiere was involved with... deicidal blasphemy." "That's what this is about, right? Thereabouts, in terms of sheer magnitude and hubris?" Benedict I. (GM): He sighs. "It's not like that." "At least, it's not all like that." "The Project is... fractious." "The less you know about the project, the less you're able to carelessly blurt out about the project your cleric friends, or to anyone who tries reading your mind or tricks you into a Zone of Truth..." "The safer we all are." "With as much as you know, you're already dangerous. It'd be best for us- and you- if you dropped this. Never spoke of it to anyone."

Looseleaf points out that it's good that she found the letter, because that tower was sitting abandoned for a year- anyone could've walked in and read it, since it was lying on a bookcase in the open.

This is somehow not taken as good news- when he finds out that the letter could've potentially been read by anyone, that there was a security breach for a year...

Looseleaf: "Look, my man, next time you want to send a letter, by the way, use... use some encoding." "Don't just write things in plaintext like a chump, by the gods." Benedict I. (GM): "He was supposed to burn after reading." Saelhen du Fishercrown: he's too dead for that! Benedict I. (GM): "Wait, you said it was... out in the open?" "But he's dead?" "Either he was an idiot, or... someone else opened his mail." "Except... Yomi should've hand-delivered it, so..." "...well. We'll definitely look into it."

He brings up sending for someone to do memory magic to handle the breach- but he realizes he can't have that done to Looseleaf, because Diamode would notice if someone tampered with her cleric's memories, and someone needs to still know what's up so they can keep Orluthe away from the truth. (Plus, she figures she'd notice the inconsistencies and end up sleuthing it out again.)

Looseleaf asks if Yomi is doing well, and gets... that she's intense, and powerful, and she probably thinks she's "doing well", but... he doesn't know about happy.

Lastly, he shows Looseleaf a symbol- a blank circle, with the elvish character 人 drawn underneath. The symbols of gods are typically circles with a design inside- so the meaning of this and its relationship to the nature of the Project is fairly easy to infer.

Benedict I. (GM): "If you need to prove to someone you're in the know, without blurting out a bunch of dangerous details, this is the mark." He then eats the paper and the graphite stick he used to draw it.

Next time: Saelhen and Oyobi grill the guard Mags for information on the Deathseekers, and connections are made with powerful individuals.

[strawberrycarnivals]

Hi there! Can we get a yandere Dabi kidnapping the reader but then yandere Shigaraki ends up falling for the reader too?

Oh, anon😭😭 I had so much fun with this one. Thank you for the request💖😈

Cw: cursing, kidnapping, noncon, yandere, sexual at times, murder lmao let me know if I need to add anything else

Kidnap Your Own Girl

Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

The League gathered in the living room of their new headquarters- a large penthouse suite located in the one hotel Shigaraki didn't destroy in Deika City. "What's going on?" They grumbled at Shigaraki.

"Hey. Everyone shut it. We have something important to decide on." Everyone shifted uncomfortably. They were exhausted and not quite ready to do another mission yet. "We need to decide on what we're eating tonight." The room let out a sigh.

"Why's everything a god damn ordeal with you, man?" Dabi flopped himself on the couch and turned on the tv. Channel number 58 specifically. He needed to see something. Your sweet voice filled the air.

"Hey!! As your leader I'm demanding you listen to me and put in a suggestion!!" Tomura huffed and stomped his foot, tantrum beginning. "Quiet down, crackhead. I'm trying to watch something." He turned up the volume. You twirled your hips on television and Dabi smiled.

"Y/N? You're watching a pop star right now when more pressing matters are on the table?!" Shigaraki seethed and Toga sat next to Dabi on the couch. "Oooo! She's beautiful!"

"I know. That's why I'm going to make her mine." Tomura exploded into laughter.

"'Make her yours'??? Have you lost your mind? You look like a ballsack. Also isn't y/n from *****?"

"Yeah. She is. But she's touring soon in Osaka. And I'll be ready. Plus she's not going to be able to resist me." He smirked. Toga gushed. "Oh my gosh! A kidnapping!! That sounds so romantic," She sighed. "Bingo." Dabi snapped. "Wanna help?" Toga jumped for joy. "Is that even a question? Obviously!"

"Whatever, you freaks. I'm ordering chinese take out.. Twice. Order chinese take out. I'll be in my room." Shigaraki was gone instantly. Twice nervously panicked. "Wait!!! Do you want chow mein or fried rice?? Orange chicken or teriyaki???! AHHH!! COME BACK!!"

Tomura punched the wall of his room in anger, thumb out. He already knew y/n would be in town soon. This weekend actually. He had your tour schedule all the way down to the songs you would sing on stage. How dare Dabi try to steal what was his? He needed a new plan. He opened his closet and made his way to a shrine of your posters and merch.

He reached out touched your photographed face. You were an angel. "Looks like there's a new gameplan. See you soon, princess."

~

It was the day of your concert and you were beyond excited to be in Japan. You decided to get some shopping done at a nearby mall before the show that night with your best friend and couple of body guards. Everything was going great. Until you went into the dressing room with your "bestie."

"How do I look in this, b/f/n-chan?"

B/f/n stared at you and smiled unnaturally.. and her face melted off, a thick gray slime hitting the ground. "What the f-" a naked girl with space buns covered your mouth and held a knife to your throat. You froze. "Dabi," she whispered. "I got her." A tall man with what looked like rotting flesh stitched to his face entered your dressing room and the blonde girl stifled your scream. Where were your guards?? Where was b/f/n??

"Why so upset to see me, y/n? I'm hurt." The man cooed. "Listen, sweetheart. You're coming with us... well me more specifically." You attempted another blood curdling scream, felt a pinch in your neck, and then everything went dark.

You woke up in a luxurious bedroom, dazed. It was still bright outside. Where were you? Your cell phone was gone. You tried the door. Locked. You tried the window. Locked. It looked like you were on the top floor of a hotel.. surrounded by a collapsed civilization. Your body shook violently, realization setting in. Those two kidnapped you. You heard the news playing in what you assumed to be the living room outside your room. You pressed an ear to the wall and gasped.

"The hottest new pop star of our generation- y/n- has now been missing for 2 days. Her best friend b/f/n was found in an alleyway with no memory of what happened and her security guards were found burnt to a crisp outside of a mall store's dressing room. If you have any information about y/n's whereabouts please call our hotli-" the door opened and a lanky man with baby blue hair appeared and quickly locked it behind him. You saw his sunken-in eyes and dry, torn looking lips and backed into the furthest wall, shrinking into yourself. "Please stay back." You squeaked. He dropped to his knees in front of you.

"Shhh, shh. It's okay, princess! I'm here to save you." He held out his hand, thumb curled in. "My name is Tomura. I'll get you out of here." He smiled wickedly.

You gasped and nodded your head, grabbing his four fingers. He was going to save you! You shouldn't be so quick to judge appearance, you thought. Relief and hope washed over you. "These two.. these two villains kidnapped me! One was a stitched up man and the other one looked like a schoolgirl! I think I.. I think I missed my concert. And my bodyguards are dead." You sobbed into his shirt.

"Oh no, princess! It's okay now. Because I am here." He smilled mockingly and pulled you into a hands-out hug, smelling your hair. You smelled like cake. Fuck. He broke apart from you and turned toward the door, discreetly tucking his raging boner into his waistband. "Okay now let's get you out of here. I think the villains are gone." Of course the idiots were gone. He was the one who sent them out in the first place. He hid a huge grin, trying not to seem too suspicious and opened the door. "This way."

He lead you through the suite's living room, into a kitchen, around a dining room, and down a hall. He opened a door. It was a filthy master-sized bedroom covered in junk food wrappers and video games. It was dark but you could make out about 6 different gaming stations and 3 desktop computers. He shoved you inside and locked the door behind him. "What's going on?? I thought you were saving me, Tomura??" Your eyes watered, fear eating at you once again.

"I am, Player 2! I'm saving you from boredom. Dabi's room is a drag. You'll have much more fun in here with me!" Your eyeballs turned solid white. He tricked you. You knew he was a villain from the start and you allowed his comforting lies to warp your mind into trusting him immediately. You crumpled to to the floor.

~

Dabi snuck away from the group and returned home to the hotel. He didn't have time for Shigaraki's bullshit grocery requests. He needed to see his darling. Wanted to touch you. You were so cuddly when you were unconscious. You even made cute little moans that instantly gave him a hard on. He actually had taken it upon himself to rub one out into your mouth last night. You swallowed his emission with a smile on your face. The drugs in the syringe Giran sold him really knocked you out, but he knew you were probably a needy slut while conscious as well. He had to find out.

He excitedly opened the door to his room and.... you were gone. His face fell. Did his angel escape? No.. that couldn't be it. The lock could only be opened with a specific hotel card. And the famous y/n was known for not having a quirk. A lightbulb went off in his head and exploded. That dirty fucking bastard! He marched to Shigaraki's room and threw open the door. You trembled. What did they want from you?? Money????

"You're a fucking prick, man. Go kidnap your own girl. This one's taken." He pointed at you. Taken?? Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

"I believe I am your leader and YOU WILL RESPECT ME, you fucking deep fried giraffe. If I claim something, it's mine. And I'm claiming her. She's my Player 2." Princess? Player 2??? Your brain was short circuiting in it's skull. Were these villains fighting for your love?

[yamisnuffles]

Your Fire and Your Flood, Pt 2

Chapter 2 is here at last.

Read on Ao3

- - - - -

In the beginning there was neither light nor was there dark. There was nothing. There was everything. There was Her and She was both. She was all the light and dark to come, the stars, moons, trees, and clouds. Everything and nothing. That was how Crawly felt. There was no light around him anymore, barely any in him, nor was there dark. Just nothing. And everything.

Consciousness came in fits and starts. First in the feel of droplets on his scales. It must have been rain because that was all he’d felt for weeks. It had started to feel like that was all he’d ever known. But if it was, it had slowed remarkably, no longer a downpour but the occasional drip... drip... drip. He would have thought it curious- each drop too warm, too heavy with something he felt more in his soul than his flesh- but he wasn’t in a place to be curious about anything. He was adrift in the dark and that was all he knew again before long. 

The next thing he was aware of was heat. He’d been warm from the moment of his creation. Her love burned at the foundation of every angel. It should have been enough to carry him through anything, had sustained him through the coldest nights and even in the void of space. Rain, no matter the amount, should have been nothing. He hadn’t realized just how cold he’d gotten until heat returned to his body. It came from somewhere outside him, soft and peculiarly inviting. His body was suffused with it until the spark inside him was stoked to new life. He wasn’t sure how long he continued in that nebulous existence. He was only ever aware of the return of cold for the warmth that always followed.

Finally there was song. Song. That was something that hit him at his very core. Seraphim were made to sing for Her. Crawly had sung often, especially as he spun out constellations. Each heavenly body was another note in an infinite song. He hadn’t sung since then, hadn’t heard other angels sing for even longer. Human song had its own kind of beauty- raw and honest and vital. That it was different from angel song did not make it worse but it was different. There was no mistaking what he heard now was an angel singing. That sound was like a hook to the center of his being that yanked him all the way back to consciousness at last.

At first he wasn’t sure if he’d properly woken up. He couldn’t make sense of what he saw. He thought he was sitting amongst the clouds, but that couldn’t be. He slithered and stretched underused muscles as his mind lifted from the heavy fog of a very long sleep. The movement as much as his gradual awakening told him that he was actually swathed in a white cloak. He wriggled toward the light through folds of soft fabric.

He was in a small cabin on a ship large enough that it was barely troubled by waves. Not far away, framed against a miraculously sun filled window not far away, was Aziraphale. That explained the cloak. He should have known instantly from the smell- which he gathered now on his flickering tongue- but the ongoing lilt of angelic song had pushed all else from his mind. It was everything in a way that made his prior nothingness feel like a distant memory. It filled him until he felt he might burst.

Not for the first time, he wished for another corporation. This one wasn't made to house so much emotion. His heart swelled. He wanted to smile. He wanted to cry. He couldn't do either, so instead he used a voice laden and hushed with feeling to speak the only truth that mattered to him. 

"Aziraphale." And that, too, was everything.

If only it hadn't meant an end to the song. Aziraphale silenced immediately and spun on his heel. His mouth hung in a wobbling, wordless circle. Shock, sorrow, joy, and more all washed quickly across expressive features. Crawly had forgotten just how blue those eyes could be, especially swimming in unshed tears.

"Oh,” Aziraphale said, finding his voice at last. “Oh, Crawly, you're-"

Aziraphale rushed forward and bent smoothly to draw the whole unwieldy mass of Crawly’s serpentine form into his arms. The long body of a snake wasn't meant for hugging, so Crawly met him halfway by winding around Aziraphale's torso. It meant Aziraphale was left hugging himself as much as anything but it was enough.

Tears fell from Aziraphale's eyes and suddenly Crawly understood what he'd felt before, the rain that wasn't rain. "Hey, I'm alright," he said, not wanting to be the source of Aziraphale's pain. "I'm okay."

"You silly- You foolish-" Aziraphale blustered in a voice that might have been successfully cross if it hadn’t come from between gasping, shaky breaths. "You- you impossible serpent. I thought you were gone. You nearly were."

Crawly nuzzled into the downy hair at the base of Aziraphale's neck. He couldn't bear to see the other angel cry, especially when he was the cause. "Sssssorry."

"You should be." Aziraphale hiccupped over another sob and quieted as he tried to even out his breathing. "I don’t know if the water really would have killed you but that, that… absurdity might have. Whatever were you thinking?"

"Wasn't, really. Just sort of… did it.”

Aziraphale tilted his head to aim a withering look at the snake on his shoulders. “You just decided syphoning off your own ethereal energy was the best thing to do?”

“Yes?” Crawly buried his head at the juncture of Aziraphale’s neck. “I was tired, okay? You don’t know how long I spent trying to convince someone, anyone, to listen to me. But all any of them ever see is the Sssserpent of Eden.” He hated that phrase, hated what it represented and that he could never escape it. “A thousssand yearssss like thissss. They whissssper and tell sssstories sssso everyone knowssss.” Of course his hiss would become more pronounced now and he hated that too. “I was so tired,” he continued when he was certain his voice wouldn’t betray him. “And desperate. I wasn’t about to let the only humans who believed in me die.”

Aziraphale’s shoulders slumped. He reached around to stroke gently along Crawly’s back, leaving a trail of warmth wherever he touched. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.”

Crawly melted into the touch. For a moment he was able to imagine that everything actually would be fine and then he stiffened. He slithered around so he could talk face to face. "Wait, where are the humans?" His whole body went slack, sure of the answer already. "It didn't work, did it? I screwed it up and they didn't make it anyway. I promised. I promisssed and still…"

“Crawly, no. Shhhhh, no, no, no,” Aziraphale soothed. “They’re fine. Just fine.”

Crawly was so busy cursing up a storm that it took a second for him to process what Aziraphale had said. “They’re… alright?” he asked, not daring to hope until it was confirmed again.

“More than, I’d say, given they were sustained for so long by celestial energies. I can take you to see them when you’ve rested up more.”

“I don’t need more sleep. I mean, probably do, but I already got a lot. I think. How long was I out?”

“Well-”

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t be able to get more sleep until I see them for myself. So if you won’t take me, I’ll just find them on my own. I’m sure I can sniff them out.”

Crawly moved to drop from Aziraphale’s shoulders but was stopped by a firm hand and a sigh. “Alright. Promise me you’ll try to rest up more after, though.”

“Promise,” Crawly replied without hesitation.

Once out of the cabin, a wave of animal smell hit Crawly. They didn’t have far to go. They passed tall fenced stalls that held elephants, camels, and giraffes. One of the giraffes had its neck curved to look into the next stall over, the one that Aziraphale approached after a furtive glance about.

“Miriam, I’m coming in,” he warned as he undid the latch. “I’ve got someone with me that I thought you might want to see.”

“You’re bringing someone?” came a woman’s nervous reply. “Who- oh.”

Crawly saw instantly what Aziraphale had meant about the humans being better than alright. There was the slightest glow to them, visible in the dim corner where the two elder children were huddled behind their mother, Miriam. As soon as they saw who was with Aziraphale, they all rushed over, the children in an excited jumble and their mother at a more controlled pace. Anah and her brother Reuel hopped up and tried to grab onto the end of Crawly’s tail but were stopped by Aziraphale.

“Alright now, children, Crawly has been through a lot. Best to look and not touch,” he tutted.

The children pouted in unison. Joy bubbled up inside Crawly at the sight of their innocent, open petulance. There they were, clearly considering disobeying the Principality, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s no fun,” he said and he dropped down without further warning.

The children shrieked and giggled. They stumbled with pudgy legs amongst his many winding coils while their mother and Aziraphale looked on with matching exasperated expressions. Their petting was far from gentle but Crawly enjoyed it more for that. He could still remember perfectly the way they’d hardly dared get near him at first. Now it was clear they could hardly get close enough.

“Az- Azira…” Anah screwed up her lips. “The other angel said you were sleeping and that we had to leave you alone. If you don’t need to eat, why do you need to sleep?”

“Because I like to sleep,” Crawly answered. Which was the truth, if not the whole truth of the situation. He didn’t like lying when answering questions but he didn’t think a teeny tiny omission would hurt in this case, given that the alternative was to risk the children feeling guilty for something he’d chosen to do. “Sleeping is great. Sometimes I think I would like to nap for a year.”

“A year?” Reuel gasped.

“Maybe a hundred.”

This was met by a peel of laughter from both Anah and Reuel who clearly thought he was joking. Which, he was. Sort of. A bit. Maybe.

“Wanna see the ostriches?” Anah asked, veering to another topic without warning the way only a child could.

“And sheep!” Reuel chimed in.

“Sheep are boring.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh. We can always see sheep.”

Aziraphale held his hands up. “Children, we can see whatever you’d like.” He closed his eyes a moment and Crawly could feel him probing for the presence of any other celestial beings. One snap later to ensure they went unnoticed and he added, “Lead the way.”

The children scampered out of the stall, followed by their mother and baby brother, and finally the two angels. Crawly rode on Aziraphale’s shoulders so that he could actually see the animals. The children were more than happy to chatter at length about each animal they passed and Crawly was happy to listen. He found he was actually fairly interested since most creatures tended to give him a wide berth. The miracle that made them all more docile for life on the ark ensured he could get a good look without any of them panicking.

He wasn’t sure when he nodded off. Sleep was usually something he chose to do instead of something that simply fell on him, but one moment he was enjoying the children’s glee at the snakes and the next, he was nestled back in Aziraphale’s robes. Starlight washed the floor in a soft glow. Aziraphale was seated next to him, legs folded primly underneath himself. He was humming some human tune to himself and startled slightly when Crawly stirred.

“Awake again I see.”

“Nnnnh,” was Crawly’s eloquent response. He felt cold again and slithered up into Aziraphale’s lap in search of warmth. “How long was I out this time?”

Aziraphale conjured extra heat into his palms and stroked along Crawly’s spine. “Not long. Only a few hours. I do believe you’re properly on the mend at last.”

Crawly couldn’t manage much more than a thoughtful noise in response. The heat felt so nice and when he didn’t say anything more, Aziraphale started to sing the same tune he’d hummed before. Crawly thought it sounded familiar but Aziraphale had replaced the words with cheerful sounding nonsense. Combined with the ever present lap of water against the hull, it threatened to put Crawly right back to sleep. He would have happily submitted if it hadn’t meant he was liable to forget once more something he’d wanted to say.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“Whatever for, my dear?” Aziraphale responded without pausing the soothing motion of his hand.

“The humans. You didn’t have to rescue them. I know you’re not supposed to.”

“Ah, well…” And now Aziraphale pulled back into himself and wrung his hands together. “No, I’m not, but no one ever said I couldn’t help you. So when I finally found you and you had the humans with you, what choice did I have? Perhaps I wasn’t supposed to save them but you’d already done that and I wasn’t about to kill them. Whether I did it outright or simply left them, it would all be the same thing in the end. Which meant there was only one thing to do. And you were all huddled together and really, it was just easier to take the whole boat and all its occupants than try to extricate you from the lot.”

Crawly could tell from the way Aziraphale was rambling that he’d rehearsed those excuses a few times in case he had to explain himself. “How’ve you kept four humans from going unnoticed?”

“It would seem most of the angels find all the animals a bit… distasteful, so they’ve mostly left me to it. Gabriel in particular, who was meant to keep me updated on when I might see land again. As for Noah and his family, they trust me to keep things in order.” Aziraphale squirmed and his gaze skipped around in search of sudden intruders. “So it’s really been no bother. Certainly nothing to thank me for.”

“You did a lot, Aziraphale. They all seemed happy and healthy. Don’t say that was all down to me because I haven’t been doing much of anything for a while. After everything they’ve been through, you made them smile again. You did that.” Crawly knew how difficult it must have been for Aziraphale. The Principality seemed forever torn between what he felt was right and what he thought Heaven wanted from him. He’d gone above and beyond even knowing it could get him in trouble. “So, yeah, think I actually do have to say thanks.”

Aziraphale squirmed again but it was clear he was pleased from the way his lips curled up despite himself. “When you put it like that, I suppose I must.” He averted his eyes and his cheeks tinged with pink. “Though I feel far from altruistic. I did it for you. Because of how much you’d given. Because of how I…”

He trailed off, leaving Crawly to wonder. And wonder he did, about that angel with self conscious crimson painting the tips of his pale ears and the light of a halo glowing delicately from just this side of reality. Aziraphale had gone so far out of his comfort zone, risked the wrath of heaven, all for him. A snake, the Serpent of Eden.

Again Crawly felt something too big, too complex for this simple corporation. It filled him and filled him and filled him, bigger than the wrathful sea outside. How could he feel something so huge? He doubted there’d be any containing it even if he’d had his proper form. He was a star too heavy to sustain itself, a supernova waiting to be born. He didn’t know how else to put it, even to himself. He didn’t think he’d ever felt something like this. It was all consuming and yet it gave and gave.

It was everything and it was nothing. It was-

Oh.

“Aziraphale, I- I think…”

“Hmm?”

He couldn’t say it. Were angels even allowed to love in this way? This was no wide, encompassing love for creation nor the intrinsic act of being that was loving Her. This was specific, desirous, needing of another like a mortal might need for air. Even if it could be holy, Crawly wasn’t sure it could be when coming from him. It would drag Aziraphale down. Aziraphale was meant to soar in the heavens, not be forced down into the dirt.

“What is it?” Aziraphale prompted again.

This feeling was a revelation but Crawly couldn’t reveal it. He’d rushed in too often and stumbled into folly. He couldn’t risk that. “I think I… might sleep again. For a bit.” There. That was better. Safer. “Could you stay with me? Maybe sing a bit? Helps me sleep.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale replied, his smile beatific.

Crawly slithered back into the pile of robes though he’d never felt warmer than he did with Aziraphale’s thigh pressed against him and a song drifting through the air just for him. He hadn’t thought what he felt could grow anymore but there it was, bubbling up. He had the same feeling he did when he’d first awakened from his long slumber, that he was swathed in clouds rather than fabric. He buried himself in the robes, sure that if he continued looking at Aziraphale he would burst.

Once more, impossibly given how he felt, sleep claimed him. It was not darkness that met him this time but a dream of the stars. Six wings carried him in a familiar dance. It felt right, better than it had when he’d done it in the waking world because this time Aziraphale was with him. They flew hand in hand to every one of Crawly’s creations. When there was no more to show, Crawly let out the feeling that was burning to be free and turned himself into a star just for Aziraphale.

He lingered blissfully in that dream until the sun on his eyelids couldn’t be ignored any longer. A smile remained painted on his lips despite the stiffness in all of his limbs. He indulged in a languorous stretch and yawned so wide it was a miracle his jaw didn’t end up unhinging. His fingers were buried deep in tangled curls before anything struck him as odd.

“You’re- you- you’re… oh my.”

Aziraphale’s stunned stammering confirmed it. He knew what he felt but he still had to look down, to press fingers into lightly freckled skin, in order to believe it. He was a tangle of limbs piled at Aziraphale’s feet. He had his body back. His. It didn’t make a bit of sense and he expected scales to sprout at any moment, but there was no denying it.

He thought of conjuring some clothes but decided for the moment that he’d rather wear Aziraphale’s discarded cloak. He didn’t care one speck that it was too large. He liked it more for that. Delighted laughter burbled up and escaped his lips- his lips- as he tried to get to his feet. It continued, even as he stumbled. It would have kept going until he hit the deck with his face but Aziraphale caught him first. Heat blossomed in his skin where Aziraphale’s hands made contact. Even if his legs hadn’t felt confusing at the moment, being so close to Aziraphale this way would have robbed him of the ability to walk all the same. His knees were uselessly weak.

“Careful now,” Aziraphale said softly as he tucked himself under an arm. “You’ll need some time to get used to your legs.”

“My legs,” the seraph repeated with a wide, crooked smile. “My legs.”

Aziraphale snapped and a pile of cushions appeared. He lowered the other angel onto them and then cocked his head. “It’s good to see you again,” he said. The skin about his eyes crinkled with his smile. Those blue eyes blew wide suddenly. “Oh. I remember now. You’re not Crawly. You’re-”

“Don’t.” A shiver passed through new skin. The former serpent couldn’t pin a finger on exactly why he dreaded hearing his old angelic name, only that it filled him with a distinct sense of wrong. “That’s not me anymore.”

“Not you?” Aziraphale asked, perplexed. “My dear, it’s your God given name. You’ve earned it back and you’re saying you don’t want it?”

“Nope.” The seraph picked absently at his fingernails and toes. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he considered. “Not that. Not Crawly either.”

“If you insist,” Aziraphale huffed.

“I do.”

“What should I call you, then?”

A good question. He drew in a long breath until he felt truth lodge somewhere in between his ribs. “Crowley,” he answered and he instantly knew it was right.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale echoed and if Crowley hadn’t known before, it was sealed as soon as he heard it come out of those lips. “If that makes you happy then, yes, I think it suits you.”

Crowley flashed his teeth in response. “Suits me, huh?”

He wasn’t sure who he was right now. His skin felt familiar and foreign all at once. He grabbed one of his feet and hooked it behind his neck. He was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to do that. He wiggled his various digits and felt the pull of muscles and tendons as he stretched out his limbs again. He felt a bit looser at the joints than he had before but otherwise normal. He stuck his tongue out until he could see the rounded pink tip of it. Normal too. Unless… He concentrated and it forked at the end, falling somewhere between human and serpent. Concentrate more and it was back again. He was fairly certain if he really wanted to, he could be a snake again, but he didn’t want to.

Aziraphale watched him with a bemused smile as he continued testing the new parameters of his body. “Do you have any idea how this happened.”

“Nope,” Crowley said, popping the ‘p’ and thoroughly enjoying forming his mouth around words again instead of just willing them to come. “And for once, I’m not going to question it.”

He set his feet flat and pushed up in another attempt to stand. His hips swayed this way and that. He probably would have fallen again except that he pulled his wings out to balance him. A pleasant tingle ran up his spine. They ached to be used. His current quarters weren’t large enough to really stretch them, which only left him with one option.

He folded them tight against his back and reached out to take Aziraphale’s hand firmly in his own. “Come on.”

“Where to?”

“Just come along, would you? More fun if I show you.”

Aziraphale gave a small, tight nod. Crowley thought it was the other angel who was trembling and then he realized it was him. That wouldn’t do. He pushed past that jittery feeling, took a few gravity defying strides forward, and then hopped out the window, taking Aziraphale with him. Aziraphale all but fell out after. Crowley pulled the startled blond into his arms and they floated down together with the aid of six star bright wings.

He couldn’t help but laugh again as they made a soft landing on the surface of the water. He released Aziraphale from the embrace and took a few more increasingly steady steps. When he didn’t fall straight on his ass, he took another step, skipped, hopped, and fluttered forward. It was all marvellous. He could have spent the next thousand years reacquainting himself with everything he’d missed in the last thousand.

Aziraphale followed after him with a more controlled gate. “You really have no idea why you got your body back?” he asked. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Given the timing, I suppose it must be what you did for the humans. Which, if that’s the case, Her plan truly is ineffable.”

Crowley twirled about on one foot and looked straight into eyes the same blue as the water beneath their feet. His heart pounded hard in his chest. Love, it said.

“Not a clue,” was the easy lie, though only a partial one at that. He knew in his soul what this was about but that didn’t mean he knew the reasoning. Perhaps She was rewarding him for not sullying Aziraphale with this imperfect, all too human love. “Like I said, not questioning it.” He extended a hand toward Aziraphale. “Fly with me?”

Aziraphale let out his own wings with a contented sigh and took Crowley’s hand. “I’d love to.”

Love. Love. Love.

Hand in hand, they took flight.

[carmenlire]

Slipping Under

read on ao3

Standing in the doorway, Maryse presses unsteady hands to her middle.

She tries to take a deep breath but finds that she can’t quite manage it. The best she can do is a sort of desperate, choking inhale and things are dire indeed as the man sitting at her son’s bedside doesn’t flinch, acts for all the world like he’s unaware of her presence-- oblivious to the medics in the room, all of his attention focused on Alec.

That first step into the infirmary takes more strength than Maryse thought she had. She doesn’t want to get closer and see just how thready her son’s lifeline is, doesn’t want to face what the other end of the phone call promised less than an hour ago. As she nears the bed, she sees the claw marks in Alec’s side, stretching from just below his ribs to just above his hip. They’re vicious streaks of black-streaked crimson and a sob builds in her throat.

Venomous ichor, she thinks and the pit in her stomach digs a little deeper, leaves her nauseous and terrified.

Magnus doesn’t look up as she nears. No, his gaze is glued to his husband, both of his hands clutching one of Alec’s. In what she thinks must be an unconscious move, he’s twisting Alec’s wedding ring, a tiny compulsive tick as his unglamoured eyes stay fastened to the man in front of him.

Maryse doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to shift his attention. She just takes the empty chair on her son’s other side and lowers herself gently. It feels like she’s aged a century in the past forty minutes.

The drone of the heart rate monitor is steadying. Every beat means Alec is still alive, that he’s still fighting.

Now that she’s closer, Maryse sees her son in all his shadowhunter glory and it makes her sick to her stomach.

Bruises litter his body. There are half a dozen iratzes drawn over his heart, his abdomen, his thigh. She sees the bones of his arm knitting back together under scraped flesh and her heart clenches.

There are other marks, though. These are old-- the scar that runs parallel to his clavicle, an old wound clumsily and hastily healed from when he’d taken a tumble during training, dozens of tiny scars from the endless recoil of his bowstring.

There are scores of marks that proclaim her child a soldier, a warrior with the angel’s blessing.

As Maryse studies her son’s prone form, a piece of her heart grieves. It steals her breath, the overwhelming sorrow she has for what’s become of her eldest. If she'd known now what she knew then, she would've taken her children and run as far and fast from this world as she could. This world makes children grow up too damned fast, robs them of their childhood and does its best to carve their hearts right from their chests before they're even old enough to understand what they're losing.

It's a zero sum gave and the Clave is always the damned victor.

The infirmary staff work quietly in the background and Maryse moves her chair over to give them more room. Magnus doesn’t move and no one dares suggest he do so.

Watching as shadowhunters do everything they can to save their leader, Maryse is left alone with her thoughts.

Eventually, a salve is spread over the claw marks before it's bandaged with pristine strips of cotton. The color contrast is striking, covering up such angry wounds, but it worries her, how Alec’s skin seems leached of all color, blending in with the linen.

Long hours pass and Jace and Izzy stop by for long visits before exhaustion pulls them both to their bedrooms. Patrol had been so brutal that night and her other children had applied iratzes as well to stave off the consequences of a hard battle.

Through it all, Alec doesn’t move. He doesn’t twitch, doesn’t grunt in pain. There are no snores and that causes another little pang in Maryse’s heart.

Alec’s snored since he was just a toddler. Back then they’d been cute little snuffles that had made her chest ache with love. The few times she’d roused him as a teenager, they’d morphed until it was like a buzzsaw was sounding in his bedroom.

She wonders dryly how Magnus sleeps in the same room with the man.

Looking over, she smiles wanly at the sight-- Magnus’s eyes are closed, his chin resting on his chest in a position that will prove extremely painful later. His hands haven’t moved from Alec’s. Maryse is just set to get up, maybe urge Magnus to take Alec’s old bedroom or even set up a cot here when she stills.

Magnus groans a little, blinking open gold eyes blearily. She watches as his gaze flies to Alec’s face, panicked, hoping for a change before his shoulders slump even more when he sees that there’s no change at all.

His hands tighten on Alec’s and then he’s gingerly moving his chair so that his knees are flush to the bedside. He carefully leans forward until he can rest his head beside Alec’s uninjured side, on scratchy utilitarian sheets. He doesn’t seem to be aware that he’s not alone in the shadows of the infirmary. It strikes her that this scene is incongruous with who most believe Magnus to be. There is no elegance in his slouch and sharp eyes are red rimmed and exhausted. There is no pride in the man on the other side of the bed, just hope and endurance. He is not the High Warlock tonight, in this room. He is simply Mr. Lightwood-Bane, a worried husband.

Maryse watches her son-in-law turn his head so that he can look up at Alec and there’s a love there that’s so deep it steals her breath.

She’s never known that kind of devotion. It fills her with not an inconsiderable amount of awe and relief that her son found someone who looks at him like he’s not just their sun but the whole damn universe.

Magnus falls asleep like that and she doesn’t have it in her to disturb him. It’s like his whole body sags toward the bed and the exhaustion that must have been riding him hard has disappeared, albeit temporarily.

Left alone with her thoughts, Maryse finds twining shades of grief and regret seeping into her gut. For the longest time, her children were nothing more than additions to the Institute’s roster, a mercenary way to outrun her own disastrous missteps.

As she studies her son in the low light, shame scalds her throat. She was a worthless mother-- horrid, selfish, cold.

She thinks about how many times she could’ve lost Alec and the others. She thinks about her son who was once her pride and joy and how many times she slammed the metaphorical door in his face.

By the grace of the angel, Maryse has found her second chance. It haunts her sometimes-- often-- how little she recognizes the woman she’d grown into. Tonight is the latest in a long line of times Alec’s been injured.

It strikes her now, though, how close she’s come countless times to losing Alec.

Tears well in her eyes and she bites back a sob at the realization. It’s another side of a coin she’s flipped dozens of times over the past few years, another light bulb that illuminates just how low she’d sunk and how much she still has to go before she’s finally free from the hole she’d dug herself.

Most days Maryse resigns herself to never seeing total sunshine again.

Laying a gentle hand on Alec’s knee, she smooths away imperceptible wrinkles from the sheet that covers him up to his waist.

There was a time she knew Alec, her darling baby boy, better than anyone else. She knew his favorite color was blue and his favorite food chocolate cake with almonds and that he loved the giraffes at the zoo with a passion reserved only for five year old boys without a care in the world.

Then she’d changed and Alec had followed suit and she mourns the boy he’d turned into-- the boy she’d turned him into with her cold words and biting contempt.

She was so blind, she thinks now. Looking back, the signs were all there but she’d been too stupid and too full of herself to realize and there’s not a day that goes by when she doesn’t wish she’d done something, something different.

She’d thought his training sessions were nothing more than a boy’s attempts to make his mother proud. Maryse hadn’t known that they were punishments, not at first, and by the time she had she’d been apathetic.

And then there was the morning she’d surprised her Institute by returning from Idris early. She’d watched Alec and his parabatai train and she’d known what those looks meant, the lingering glances Alec stole when he thought Jace wasn’t looking.

It had killed her to see them, to realize what they meant. She’d never stopped to wonder what Alec must be thinking, feeling, inside the cold walls of the Institute. Her treatment had become even more abrasive after that day and it sickens her now to remember the way she’d looked at her son and seen a failure, a disappointment.

She’d mostly washed her hands of him after that, his only value as a soldier. When he’d proposed to Lydia, she’d been pleasantly surprised-- fuck, she’d been over the damned moon.

Her eyes drop down to Alec’s hand resting near hers. Oh so carefully, she covers it with her own and she smiles even as her heart aches, as it bleeds out for the mother she’d been and the mother Alec had needed.

So foolish, she thinks now. So terrible.

Still, Maryse hadn’t seen anything amiss until the night of Max’s rune ceremony.

It had taken seeing Alec falling over a ledge for her to realize just how much damaged she’d done.

What kind of mother, she used to think, could let her child suffer so much without knowing?

She’d been that mother and shame burns through her.

Her thumb strokes over scarred flesh in gentle sweeps and she knows these particular scars are a biting reminder of everything Alec’s been through.

He’s stronger than she knew, stronger than he should’ve ever had to be.

As Maryse watches over her son, she knows that she’s a different person, infinitely better. While Alec may have forgiven her-- and isn’t that something that stuns her every time she stops to think about it-- Maryse has yet to forgive herself.

She vows for the thousandth time to be there for her family the way she should’ve been all along. She doesn’t want to have any regrets moving forward.

Maryse stays awake until dawn light starts to peak through the stained glass windows in the infirmary. Her eyes burn and her back aches but she doesn’t move.

She watches over her son-- and over Magnus-- and it’s the easiest thing in the world.

When Alec opens his eyes hours later and turns his head, the first thing he sees is his mom, watching him with warm eyes.

It’s a punch to the gut and when she straightens and runs a hand through his hair like she used to do when he was little, he sighs and lets his eyes close once more.

He feels Magnus’s hand in his and with his mom standing watch, he feels the safety net he’d craved for so long fall into place.

It’s more than he’d hoped for all those years, more than he’d thought he'd deserved.

Alec tries to stay awake a few moments more, wanting to sear this onto his hazy memory, but pain pulls at the edges of his conscious and he slips under again to escape.

Maryse stands and leans over her son, bringing her hand down to rest along his cheek. She kisses his forehead and while part of her mourns for the thousands kisses and hugs she’d missed-- thrown away in bitter apathy-- she cherishes this chance and promises herself it’ll become one of countless.

[artificialqueens]

before the sunrise (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 2648

AN: Wrote this little drabble as a break from ANOTHER drabble (which is way longer than a drabble now) that I had originally started to take a break from my WIPs. I’ve been feeling like I’m stuck in a rut lately and Writ is the best for prompting this to me and cheering me on to get me out of it. I appreciate them the MOST. And they beta-ed this too, who could ask for more? Thank you for all the sweet lovely feedback on my current fics. It makes me happier than you know.

Night shifts aren’t that bad, really.

The convenience store is empty most of the time. Quiet. The rows lined with snacks and packaged food sit untouched, acting as Brooke’s only companions between the hours of 11 p.m. and 7 a.m. in the morning.

Brooke had taken the job because ballet expenses and the rent of her shitty downtown apartment don’t pay for themselves. Four months in with night shifts, it’s not too unmanageable. She has a pepper spray bottle in the pocket of her jeans and a heightened sense of awareness towards the windows and doors, watching those who pass by for any sense of possible danger.

But it’s calm. She spends most of her nights manning the register, holding back yawns. Listening to a podcast over the overhead speakers because there’s no one else there to complain that the store isn’t playing the latest top 40 hits.

Most of the time, she’s just bored.

She has her occasional regulars, people to talk to when the dead of night becomes a little too quiet. The mom of a newborn who lives across the street and comes in around 2 a.m. with her baby in tow, trying to get him back to sleep as she rocks him while she walks. The McDonald’s employee who comes by during his break to grab a pack of cigarettes every couple of days. The businessman who leaves work late enough that he never interacts with his family during the day, preferring to grab a packet of beef jerky for a makeshift dinner. The store also gets its fair share of those who’ve drank a little too much at the bar a few doors down, gotten themselves worked up. Though she’s able to redirect them, send them on her way after filling their hands with snacks.

No one has really stood out to Brooke, made her look twice just yet as she checks them out at the register. That is, until 4 a.m. on a Tuesday night when it’s raining a little too hard outside the dingy windows.

“A place actually open? Fucking finally!”  

Brooke’s not sure whether the statement is uttered by a customer or a drowned rat, by the sight of the woman who’s just walked in the front door. Her hair is soaking wet and heavy on her shoulders, her makeup smudging by her eyes and making her look like she has raccoon-esque dark circles.

Brooke watches in amusement as the woman strolls up the counter, slamming both of her hands onto the table and rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Can I help you with something?” Brooke doesn’t put on much of a customer service voice for the woman, distracted by the way she seems to be shaking the drops of water from her hair onto the counter.

“I moved here about-” The woman pauses, checking her watch, ‘-eighteen hours ago. Forgot about dinner, no big. But my stomach is growling and it’s gonna be breakfast time at this rate, and what I’m saying is I need a snack or imma truly lose my shit while tryna unpack.”

“Why are you up so late?” Brooke takes a proper look at the woman, sees her baggy shirt and shorts and rain soaked skin and the way she’s slightly shivering.

“Too much energy. Couldn’t fall asleep ‘cause I started unpacking a little. And now I’m hungry.” The woman shrugs, taking a step back to look at the shelves. “You got anything good?”

“We have some microwaveable meals, if you want-”

“Nah.” The woman waves a hand. “My microwave ain’t unpacked yet. That’s a project for tomorrow. How ‘bout snacks?”

Brooke comes around the side of the counter because fuck it, it’s 4 a.m. and it’s highly unlikely that any other customers will be coming by anytime soon. The woman’s lips part slightly, looking up at Brooke once she’s beside her, and Brooke realizes just how short the woman is.

It’s adorable.

Nonetheless, Brooke points to the aisle beside them. “Got some trail mixes and chips over here, if that’s what you’re into. Some jerky, over there. Some dry cereal in that aisle, over there?”

The woman’s eyes light up at seeing the cereal on the top shelf. “Fuck, I haven’t had Fruit Loops in ages. That’s my dinner.”

Brooke wrinkles her nose. “Fruit Loops for dinner?”

The woman shrugs. “Hey, it’s got fruit. That’s healthy, right?”

“Well-”

“Dang, I can’t reach.” The woman huffs after she tries to jump, get her hand to graze the top shelf, the Fruit Loops just out of her grasp. Brooke tries to hold back a laugh at the way her brow furrows.

“Can you…?” The woman looks at Brooke sheepishly, pointing at the box.

Brooke grabs the box without having to reach too far. “I got you.”

“A giraffe. Thank you.” The woman grabs the box with a grin that lights up her entire face, and Brooke can’t stop herself from returning it.

“I think we have some milk in the refrigerated section too, if you wanted-”

“Nah.” The woman scoffs. “Fruit Loops are best right out of the box, baby.”

It’s after the woman leaves with a wave, when Brooke’s brain is replaying the way she said ‘baby’ over and over and over in her head, when she realizes that she’d forgotten to ask the woman her name.

Brooke doesn’t see the woman for another week, her night shifts a boring haze that seem to blur together. She’s tired, real tired, from the exertion she’s putting her body through during the day with dancing, her muscles tugging and straining as she rolls out her shoulders and puts away inventory. She has to hold back a yawn as she opens yet another box, wanting nothing more than to head home and have a proper night of sleep.

She knows this job isn’t sustainable in the long term, that she has to find something else. But it’s convenient, and the night shifts pay a little bit more by the hour than the day shifts do, and her apartment isn’t rent controlled and there’s no way she’s moving back home anytime soon.

So, night shifts for now it is.

The clock hits 2 a.m. as Brooke fiddles with her phone, too out of it to sort through the register or clean a little or even pretend to look like she’s doing work. She’s watching the recording of the run through of the latest show that her company’s going to put on, going over the steps from one of the acts in her head, as if the mental exercise will help solidify it once she has to go to practice in the morning.

Hey, it’s worth a shot.

She nearly drops her phone when the door to the store slams open, hitting against the wall, and her heart’s about to jump out of her chest before she realizes that it isn’t someone trying to rob the store, or anyone intimidating. No one that she’s need to pull out her pepper spray for.

No, it’s the woman from last week. Looking a lot less damp and still as adorable in a t shirt dress that could very well be her pyjamas.

“It’s you!” The woman perks up when she sees her at the register, waltzing over to lean against the counter like she did last time. “Haven’t seen you here the last couple days.”

“Have you been coming in the daytime?”

The woman nods, and Brooke shrugs. “I only work nights.”

“Ooh, a woman of the night.” The woman winks and Brooke has to hold back a snort.

“I’m not sure that means what you think it means.”

The woman remains unfazed, still grinning at Brooke. “I like my definition better, if I’m being honest.”

“I’m sure you do.” Brooke leans against the counter too, a smidge closer to the woman, notices the way the woman’s eyes widen a bit. “So, what brings you back?”

“Out of Fruit Loops. Also ‘cause I didn’t see you during the day and was wondering whether I had made up a six foot tall glamazon cashier all in my head.”

“Real, and here in the flesh. As I am most nights.” The store seems more like a bedroom to her than her actual bedroom does, considering how much time she’s been spending here.

“Good to know. Guess I’ll have to come visit more often, then.” The woman winks at her and Brooke’s not sure, really, if she’s flirting with her, because who else would voluntarily come to a seedy convenience store in the middle of the night?

So, Brooke’s gonna lean into it. Even if she’s not 100% sure on the woman’s signals. “I’ll look forward to it, that’s for sure.”

“Good…” The woman looks down, trying to search for something, and… is she looking at Brooke’s boobs? Brooke’s about to comment before-

“You ain’t got a name tag or something?”

“Oh.” Brooke feels herself turning red, any moments of suaveness dissipated. “Brooke. And nah, they don’t bother, considering the employee turnover rate.”

The woman looks unfazed. “Cute. I like it.”

She starts picking up the snacks she’s dropped on the counter, and Brooke frowns. “You’re not gonna tell me yours?”

“Vanjie. But you can call me Vanessa.” The woman, Vanessa, flips her hair over her shoulder, and Brooke has to hold back a grin, because now she can tell, she really can, that the woman’s giving her signals.

She likes it.

Vanessa comes back every couple of days after that, buying snacks, sticking around to talk more often than not.

Brooke learns that Vanessa’s moved from Tampa, a makeup artist in town for a few months while she’s working on a project that’s filming in the city. She hates the cold and rainy weather so far, but doesn’t mind the humidity. She’s brought her dog with her while in town, and pulls her phone out excitedly to show Brooke pictures of him.

“If you think I’m not going to have a meltdown over how cute he is, you’re absolutely wrong.” Brooke can’t help the way she scrunches up her hands, the way her face pouts a little, because Riley is indeed adorable. “You should bring him by sometime.”

“Maybe I will, tomorrow, if he’s not snoring away.” Vanessa tucks her phone into her pocket, dipping her hand into the bag of chips that she’s just bought, before holding it out to Brooke. “What about you, got any pets?”

Brooke grabs a handful before answering. “Kitties. Two of them.”

Brooke pulls out her own phone to show Vanessa, whose voice becomes adorably high pitched as she flips through Brooke’s camera roll, cooing at the pictures of them all cuddled up to her.

“This is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen, are you kidding?” Vanessa gasps when she sees a picture of Brooke holding both cats up in her lap. “Stop. This is the best thing ever.”

A throat clear behind them makes both of them jump, turn around, to see a slightly dishevelled man holding a package of toilet paper in one hand and Pepto Bismol in the other. “Hi, uh, can I check out?”

Brooke chances a glance over at Vanessa and has to avert her eyes immediately to keep herself from cracking up right then and there. She takes a deep breath before looking up to face the man again, and can see how positively green he looks. “I can help you at the register, sir.”

Brooke manages to keep it together until the man lets the door close behind him and he’s out of earshot. She peeks over at Vanessa, who bursts out laughing.

“That much Pepto? Shit, he probably going through it tonight!” Vanessa’s bent over in half, cackling, and Brooke can’t help but join her.

“Oh god. I bet it’s coming out of both ends.”

“Nasty. A shitty problem to have, wouldn’t you say?” Vanessa looks over at her, eyes twinkling at her, and Brooke snickers.

“And that was a shitty pun.”

“You liked it.” Vanessa nudges her, hops up onto the counter, and the motion fills Brooke with a sense of ease, an untangling in her chest, from the way Vanessa does it so casually. Like they’re friends now, like their regular hangouts at the store are for more than Vanessa just buying some snacks.

She hopes Vanessa doesn’t have to move back any time soon.

It’s 5:30 a.m. on a Sunday night and Brooke’s tired. It’s quiet, more so than it usually is, and Brooke can’t help the way she lifts her eyes up every so often, peeking at the door, looking for a certain someone.

Vanessa hasn’t come by the store in days. Brooke had gotten used to her, had enjoyed passing the time by cracking jokes and fooling around and learning more and more about her. Telling Vanessa in turn about her ballet training, how badly she wants to make principal dancer eventually.

Vanessa had listened, asked questions. Let her ramble about her financial stress and ballet stress and work stress and it’s nice, really, because Vanessa understood it too.

So Brooke misses her.

She knows that Vanessa’s had a busy week at work, that the television show she’s working on has had longer hours than usual. Still, she can’t help the way she peeks at the door, waiting.

The watch on her wrist creeps past 6:30 a.m. and Brooke only has half an hour of her shift left to go and she’s thankful, because she needs a nap before practice today. She’s about to drop her head onto the counter for some quick shut eye when the door slams open, in a way that only Vanessa can do.

“Brought you coffee.” Vanessa holds up a cup and grins, handing it over, and the first sip of caffeine is practically heavenly.

“You absolute godsend.” Brooke takes a second sip, then a third, before putting the cup down.

Vanessa puts out a hand in front of her from grabbing the cup again. “Slow down, you. Don’t wanna burn your tongue.”

“I want caffeine, though.”

“True, who needs taste buds, anyway?” Vanessa reaches over, grabbing her hand, tugging her around the side of the counter like she usually does. “Help me pick out a morning snack.”

Brooke grabs another box of Fruit Loops from the top shelf because Vanessa’s gotten her into them, too. Vanessa’s squeal of delight makes the extra sugar worth it.

Vanessa cracks the box open on the counter after she pays, shoving her hand in to grab a handful. She holds the box out towards Brooke, who grabs some too.

The tail ends of Brooke’s shifts always bring in a hint of sunlight, rays that catch in the glass of the windows as they start to rise. Dawn is Brooke’s favourite part of her shift. When the darkness starts to leave, when the rows upon rows of snacks aren’t illuminated just by fluorescents anymore.

Vanessa in the light of day has a gentle glow to her, the sunlight hitting her skin in shades of gold. She’s beautiful, even as she munches down Fruit Loops like her life depends on it.

Brooke’s about to ask her what her day holds when Vanessa reaches into her pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. An old receipt? Brooke can feel her brow furrowing as Vanessa holds it out to her.

“Think there was something on one of my old receipts earlier. Can you look at it?” Vanessa’s eyes are sparkling and Brooke doesn’t understand why as she unfolds it, before…oh.

A phone number.

Vanessa’s phone number.

“You mighty cute in the nighttime. Care to hang out with me in the light of day?” Vanessa reaches out, interlaces their fingers, like she already knows what the answer will be.

“Know any good breakfast spots?”

[ms31x129]

Woohoo! Time for Chapter 3! I had to make a another DJ! I felt compelled! @cultureisdarkbeer @monikafilefan @today-in-fic

Chapter 1 - Courage to Jump Tumblr LINK or if you like AO3 it is HERE.

Chapter 2: Luck of the Irish Tumblr LINK or if you like AO3 it is HERE.

Chapter 3: Graffiti of the Heart  (Click on the name for AO3) or if you like Tumblr just clickity-click on the Keep Reading link below.

{Summary:

Jackson continues his journey, leading him into D.C. and the power of words, mixed with his abilities, and some parental love, allow him to travel back into his younger self. There he delves into a memory within a memory, but whose memory is he recalling?

Oh Jackson, never fret, when you are the son of Fox William Mulder and Dana Katherine Scully, you never walk alone.}

“A vision is not just a picture of what could be; it is an appeal to our better selves, a call to become something more.” -Rosabeth Moss Kanter

Jackson tossed the cabbie a $20 that he’d “won” on a scratch off ticket he picked up at the gas station not far from his house.

“You good, kid?” the man with thick eyebrows and questionable hygiene asked him as he slid out of the back seat.

“I’m good.”

As he shut the door and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, the man’s window opened and Jackson rolled his eyes at the preemptive attempt to dole out words of wisdom that he knew were surely heading his way.

“You’re a kid alone in the dark, and I’m dropping you off in the middle of the National Mall,” he warned, pointing at the dimly lit public square overlooking the lake as if it weren't completely clear to Jackson as to where he was headed. “Shit happens.”

Jackson leaned down and smirked. “Yeah, I got that,” he waved the driver off. “Thanks for the heads up, but they're the ones who should be afraid of me.”

The cabbie shrugged, probably figuring he’d tried if a sullen news report streamed across his T.V. in the morning about a teenage boy found dead behind some bush near Constitution Ave.

The cab’s tail lights shone in the dark as it drove off down the street. Jackson was left alone to wander and think about what the hell he was going to do next. Running was getting old, fast. Yet, running was all he knew how to do anymore.

After bouncing round from place to place, traveling and sightseeing for months now, he figured he’d stick around more familiar places for a while. And after his little run-in at the house, he decided a larger populated city would be a better area to blend in at. He was fairly certain no one of importance was searching for him after taking a bullet through the skull and had been presumed dead by everyone but his mother, yet he couldn’t be too careful if he wanted to keep what was left of his family safe. So, the busy tourist attraction around the Washington Monument seemed like the perfect place to clear his head before finding a cheap motel to crash at for the night.

The springtime weather was unusually warm for nightfall and the soft quacking of ducklings bathing in the lake in front of the monument caught his attention. He smiled and found an old bench to sit on and stretch out his long legs as he watched how the mother duck encouraged her babies to follow her into the glassy water.

As a little boy, he would run out back behind his farmhouse and sit on a log with his dad to watch the birds and geese swoop down onto the lake during migration. The sky would darken with the mass amount of them hovering and playfully cutting through the air above him. Now when the sky darkened around Jackson, it was not due to nature and its natural way of life, but an unnatural force of darkness that has managed to follow him wherever he went.

“What do I do now?” he wondered to the empty seat beside him, strumming his fingers along the back of the bench. “Alone in the dark…”

As he steadily chipped away at the fragments of the multilayered paint, Jackson noticed letters engraved deep into the weathered bench. With his curiosity peaked, he leaned down to tear away a larger chunk of blue paint and saw exactly what was written.

DKS & FWM

WERE HERE

1994

His eyes widened just before his mouth fell open. “No way! It can’t be,” he shook his head in disbelief. But there it was, etched in precise, even lines that defied all logic.

He could feel her —feel her as if she were sitting right beside him in that very moment. Even with so few letters to go on, there was no mistake to be made. His birth mother had marked her presence for her future son to unknowingly stumble across 25 years later.

“Un-fucking-believable. I guess the past really does screw with the future.”

His fingers traced along the letters, feeling each groove as if he were her sitting in this very spot so many years ago. Was she acting as a lovestruck young woman daydreaming of the man she loved? Was she poking fun at the probable 30 other initialed couple’s forever time stamped into the bench’s frame? Could she have been contemplating her future, her whole life as she scratched each line with purpose?

So many never-ending questions with never enough answers. He did carry one way to find resolution to some of his larger ones that have remained unanswered for far too long.

Jackson reached into his pocket and opened up the letter once again. He inhaled deeply and picked up where he had left off.

And if I falter or fail on this day, know there is an answer my child. A sacred imperishable truth but one you my never hope to find alone.

The last words barely registering in his head when his mind started up like a projector, snapping his head back with the force of the memory.

December 10, 2008

It was a cold day and his mom had him all bundled up in a puffy blue and white jacket. He could hardly move, restricted by the coat and his sweater that hugged him. It chaffed at his pale sensitive skin underneath.

This hospital felt more like a church with pictures of saints covering the walls, crosses with the carved out figure of Jesus bleeding from his hands and feet hanging ominously.

The hallways to the children’s section had windows with tiny squares, reminding him of a jail cell from a show on T.V.. The nun brought them down another hallway with big blue bears and bright yellow giraffes painted on the walls, stuffed animals and toys inside the rooms on shelves and beds. All of it couldn’t hide the cold hospital walls, hard industrial floors, or the thick flat wood of hospital railings holding the stench of sickness and antiseptic.

It all made his stomach turn and chest feel tight with worry. The sound of machines beeping played in the background as his anxiety grew.

Another room now.

This one was baby blue in color with animal prints dressing the windows and children’s drawings mounted for all to see. It was meant to be friendly, but it only had the hair at the back of his neck standing on end. He wanted to run. He wanted to cry. No more tests.

Everyone passed with purpose; expressions dark with evil, lingering stares for such a holy place. Jackson made up his mind. There was no way he’d ever return to this place again.

They turned the corner quickly and he swung himself wide, stretching out his arm, tugging at his mother’s hand and was suddenly hit by a moving object in a white coat.

Stumbling back, his gaze scanned up towards the woman in front of him. Her face was blurred by a file, but her feelings of defeat, of a battle lost, of helplessness, of the world closing in was in full high-definition. Her kind blue eyes framed by vivid tendrils of hair never quite met his, but they were the softest blue he had ever seen. Like water in the pool at his friend Mikey’s house, floating peacefully in chaos.

“Oh, excuse me. I’m sorry,” she murmured, reflexively placing a soft hand to the top of his head and leaving a spattering of goose flesh along his skin.

He heard the stress in her voice, saw the tightness in her neck, her hair reminding him of a blood moon casting it’s red shadow among the wheat grass swaying in the fields by his house. She was beautiful.

“Mother,” the word rising unbidden from his throat in a mere hoarse whisper for no perceptible reason. His eyes followed her as she swiftly rounded the corner to disappear from which they just came.

“You’re not hurt are you, Jackson?” his mom asked as she leaned down to give him a once over.

“No, Mom. I’m fine,” he mumbled back sharply as they continued down the corridor.

The nun conducting their tour had his father’s ear, relaying information in cautious tones “...once he begins to show promise in his progression he will visit Dr. Goldman for additional testing...”

That last word, “testing,” burrowed into his ear and burned at his throat as if he had swallowed shards of glass, lighting his stomach on fire.

The word hit him so hard that it pushed him back into the present. His brain rattled fiercely inside his skull. The heel of his palm massaged his brow at the ache firing in his brain until his anxiety settled.

It wasn’t going to stop him this time. He would push the physical and emotional pain away to continue on. Determined, he read the next line:

Chance meeting your perfect other, your perfect opposite, your protector and endangerer.

“Ah!” His small index finger screamed in pain. Something sharp was in his coat pocket, stabbing at it, pricking the skin. He dug it out in the privacy of his bedroom. It was one of those guardian angel pins like the one his mom used to wear and place inside Christmas cards when she sent them to people that were special to her. It must have slipped into his pocket from the woman who had bumped into him in the hallway earlier. Mother . Jackson recognized the birthstone as his own. The angel pin flipped around his naive tiny fingers and he realized he was, once again, trapped inside another flashback. Back into the abyss he plunged, opening into the eyes of another .

A ceiling came into view. A foreign bed, the softest of pillows, and a warm comforter surrounded him as a strong consoling arm wrapped around his waist. Deep, complex resonating emotions filled him—pain of loss, regret, and a heavy emptiness that hovered over him so thickly that it nearly suffocated.

“Do you think God is losing any sleep?”

His perspective shifted and a man’s face came into view. He had a beard worn almost as a mask, drawing attention away from the honest truth he held in his eyes.

Harrowing truths he carried on the cross he bore for ‘her’ and for… a sister. His eyes reminding him of the first of spring, when the grass just started to grow, but the death of winter remained underneath.  

“Why bring a kid into the world just to make him suffer? I don’t know, Mulder, I’ve got such a connection to this boy,” Jackson said in a tender voice that was not his own.

“How old is he?” the man asked and his eyes softened further, concern flooding through his vocal cords.  

“You think it’s because of William?” she wondered as if she were afraid of his answer.

“I don’t know... I… I think our son left us both with an emptiness that can’t be filled.” As he spoke his eyes revealed an intricate mosaic of an endless devotion—caring and love built up inside a never ending staircase like the one in the MC Escher art book that had caught his eye in the library.

“Just go to sleep,” the man said and tightened his comforting embrace. His lips rested at her temple for reassurance. “Let me curse God for a while.”

Unfamiliar long lashes fluttered shut and a sharp pain sang through the center of his brain.

The vision rapidly zoomed out, blurred and tunneled, focusing in on the toy box in his old room and the angel pin in his hand. He heard his parents talking in hushed tones just outside his bedroom door. He was there for a brief moment, only for him to be forcefully sucked out again.

His consciousness jolted back from his own eight year old body and violently threw him forward into the present.

His birth mother's angel pin vanished, the letter now in its place, clutched firmly within his shaking hand. He had just watched a moment in time through Dana Scully’s eyes, and that man was Fox Mulder.

“Oh. My. God.”

[wyrmeleon]

The Monster

     I wrote this horror story for a Halloween writing competition for Creative Writing class! I based it loosely on False Memory Syndrome and my love for werewolf-like creatures. It’s a bit of a mess.

Side note: The main character, Dani, is in no way connected to the Adventure Zone character of the same name.

@mythgirlimagines @psychadelic-fool @captainschmoe

     There was blood under Dani’s fingernails. It was uncomfortable, weighing down every fingertip. Were they bleeding? Dani stared at their hands, wracking their memory. 

     A fog of confusion filled their mind. Where were they? Their mouth was dry. Every muscle throbbed. They sat curled in on themselves, chin to chest. The cold tile pressed against their knees, leaching the warmth from their body. 

     How did they get here? They grappled for understanding but the memories slipped away like water through a sieve. Tentatively they tilted their pounding head from side to side, trying to clear their thoughts. Immediately, their vision swirled and pain rose in their gut. Hot vomit splashed onto the cold floor, the acrid smell searing Dani’s nostrils. They hacked and rolled onto their side, dragging themselves away from the puddle. They felt their back hit a wall: cool, tiled like the floor. They sat still, trying to catch their breath as their vision swam. After a few shaky moments they could survey their surroundings as long as they moved gingerly. They were in a small, dingy white room. To their right was a dented iron door. The doorknob was torn away, replaced by a jagged metal plate. Above them was a row of tarnished showerheads - long, rusty streaks like bloodstains marring the walls below. They looked down at themselves. They were naked, covered in dirt. A few inches from their bare foot was a small drain through which the contents of their stomach were trickling. The sight made them grimace. 

     Dani decided to try to stand. Stiffly, they arranged their aching limbs. Just as they reached out to support themselves, they heard a sharp crackle. Their eyes darted to the sound. In the far corner of the ceiling was a small speaker with a slow, blinking red light. From the intercom came a low voice faintly tinged with a West Virginian accent.

     “Thirty-one people dead. Youngest victim: three-year-old Philip Eastman. Decapitated. Oldest victim: sixty-four-year-old Maria Valdez. Disemboweled.”

     As Dani began to wrinkle their brow in confusion, a memory struck them:

     People were weeping. A mother wailed, heartbroken. They were filled with guilt; it rose in their throat and threatened to drown them. They tasted blood.

     “Some were friends. Some were family. They all came to the fair looking forward to a night of lighthearted fun. None of them expected to be torn limb from limb before the day ended.”

     More memories: a Ferris wheel, glittering against the night sky. A group of faces, smiling and laughing.

     Dani’s knees buckled and they fell to the floor. What was happening?

     “Do you remember, Dani?”

     Dani looked up sharply to the drawling intercom, teeth bared for a hot retort. Before they opened their mouth, however, there was a sharp pop as the intercom turned off and a hiss as the showers above them turned on. Frigid water sprayed down. The sudden cold sent a shock through them, their vision shrinking to a pinpoint. One more image flashed in their mind’s eye, just before darkness overtook them:

     A young man’s face, horribly still, eyes glassy. An incredible rush of anger and pain.

     Dani had no idea how long they’d been unconscious. They sat in silence, skin clammy, paralyzed with confusion and dread. The voice’s words were stark in their mind. Yes, they remembered. But what exactly were they remembering? Darting from memory to memory, they scrabbled to make sense of it all. 

     Abruptly, their thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound, distant and muffled by the wall behind them. Something was scratching. Something with claws. Then, another sound- footsteps, approaching the source of the noise. There was a low whine, the sound of a man gently hushing something, the click of a door closing. Then silence once more. Dani cowered, hyperventilating. Hours passed, until they weren’t sure if they had only imagined it all. They were cold. Their jaw ached. There was a faint dripping as the remnants of the cold water trickled in the drain. An air conditioning unit clanked on. Then came the crackle of the intercom. The voice was steelier this time, accusing.

     “Where were you the last night of the fair, Dani? Were you lurking as the children and their doting parents were massacred at the petting zoo? Were you there when the carnage continued, carving a path through the midway? Witnesses are describing a horrible creature- rolling eyes and claws that could cleave through flesh like butter. Like nothing they’d ever seen before. The news is calling it the Fairway Terror. The police don’t know quite what to make of it yet, but they’ll put it together. They’ll map its path. They’ll find samples, take them in for testing. It won’t be long before they figure it aallll out. You know what you did, Dani.”

     The intercom shut off with a pop. Dani leaned against the wall, mind reeling. Footsteps approached their cell. A shadow passed under the crack of the door. There was a wet thud. Suddenly, a flood of blood came gushing under the door towards them, the coppery smell filling the room. It ran along the cracks in the tiles and pooled against their naked body. Dani screamed, trying to stand but slipping and falling into the rising puddle. It was everywhere, spilling across their skin. Their mind went blank with panic, then was filled with a terrible vision. 

     A terrible beast with rolling eyes and jagged teeth, its fur matted with blood. So much blood. The smell is everywhere, tinging its hot breath. Its haunches flex and it pounces, preparing to deliver the killing blow. 

     It was all so real. Whose blood was this? What was the creature? Who was trapped in its claws?   

     -Was Dani the monster?

     The lights flickered and went out. Dani’s mind was screaming, overloaded. The blood clung to their skin and soaked their hair. They writhed, moaning gutturally, scratching furiously at their arms until their blood mingled with the stickiness lacquering their shaking body. Sobbing, they frantically shook their head. What was going on? They didn’t know what was real anymore. There seemed to be a distant howl, the sound of panting. It echoed in Dani’s mind until it was deafening. Was it real? Was it just another strange memory? Or was it Dani themself?

     His eyes were glassy, lifeless.

     They staggered under the wave of emotion. Breathing heavily, they stared at the scarlet sea lapping at their clenched feet. A reflection appeared before them, warped and horrifying. The creature’s face stared back at them- eyes wide, mouth gaping, twitching horribly. Dani’s face.

     Their thoughts splintered in a thousand directions. Images flashed painfully in their mind’s eye. They saw blood running down their hands. Claws. They felt entrails split open in their mouth, left ragged by their slavering fangs. They heard the screams of the victims struggling under their weight. It’s all your fault. All your fault.

    There came the sinister crackle of the intercom.

     “How did it feel, Dani? How did it feel to have their flesh give under your claws, to watch the light leave their eyes? Did you hunger? Did it excite you? You’re a monster, Dani. You know what you did.”

     Dani breathed heavily, shaking uncontrollably. Monster. They were a monster. Thirty-one people dead. Dani shook the confusion from their mind, panic turning to cold decisiveness. They remembered the sounds of weeping and snapping jaws, the dead man’s staring eyes. What was going to happen when they were found out?

     They grit their teeth. Dani was the monster. They’d show him a monster.

    They let rage overtake them. Grunting, they launched themselves at the intercom. The speaker split easily as their fist struck it, the mechanism squawking and bursting in a shower of sparks. Landing easily, they turned towards the patched door. They exploded at it, pummelling it and scrabbling at the edges with blood-soaked hands. Their raw fingers slipped along the metal plating, prying it off and wrenching it open. They narrowed their eyes, surveying the darkened facility before them. Their head swiveled, hunting. There. A light. They took off towards it. As they approached, the sounds of panicked crashing grew louder. They threw open the illuminated door to find an office in disarray. Fumbling desperately for the landline was a silver-haired man in a rumpled lab coat. The tag on his lapel read ‘Dr. George Bray’.

    “Please, for the love of God,” the familiar voice begged, now trembling with terror. “Kill me, destroy me! Just spare him! I only wanted to keep him safe! He’s all I have lef-”

    His voice broke off into a strangled scream as his arm snapped easily in Dani’s grip. Wrenching him to his feet, Dani screamed, animalistic. They dug their fingers as hard as they could into Bray’s soft face, letting the gore run down their elbows. Then they tossed him roughly into the desk. There was a sickening crack and the doctor lay still, blood trickling from his gaping mouth.

    Dani sniffed and turned down the hallway. It wasn’t over yet. They returned to the door of their blood-soaked cell. Eyes narrowing, they turned to their left. There. Another door, slightly ajar. They nudged it open. Two luminous eyes shone back at them.

    There it was. The creature. It all came flooding back.

     A text message from Dani’s cousin: ‘im so bored lol. im going to die if i have to be stuck inside 1 more day’. 

     Dani shot back: ‘How bout the fair? It closes today’. 

     ‘that sounds awesome actually. wanna come?’

     ‘nah man, u kno i have work! Have fun tho, send lots of pix!’

     A smiley emoji. A picture of Dani’s cousin feeding a giraffe, surrounded by friends. A group of faces, smiling and laughing. A Ferris wheel, glittering against the night sky. Then nothing.

     The phone call with the news. The Fairway Terror. Thirty-one dead. Dani’s cousin never even saw what got them. And it was all Dani’s fault. All their fault.

     The day of the funeral. People were weeping. A mother wailed, heartbroken. They were filled with guilt; it rose in their throat and threatened to drown them. They gnawed on their lip, biting back tears. They tasted blood.

     Dani peered into their cousin’s casket. A young man’s face, horribly still, eyes glassy. An incredible rush of anger and pain filled Dani at the sight. This was all their fault. Their suggestion had killed him.

     Then there came a new memory, one Dani had not seen before:

     It was after the funeral. Dani was distracted. They had been walking for hours, the asphalt scuffing under their sneakers. They didn’t even know what part of town they were in anymore. Suddenly, something caught their eye. A dark shape shuffling and snuffling by the dumpster. It moved too quickly for Dani to react.

     A terrible beast with rolling eyes and jagged teeth, its fur matted with blood. So much blood. The smell is everywhere, tinging its hot breath. Its haunches flex and it pounces, preparing to deliver the killing blow. Dani’s head struck the pavement painfully as they dug their nails into the creature’s matted throat, fighting back. Dani faintly heard a man with a light accent calling out desperately:

     “No, don’t kill them!”

     Then it all faded to black.

    A shuddering sigh leaked from Dani’s chest. They looked at the creature. It looked back. It seemed so much smaller now. They weren’t any different now, were they? They were both killers.They were both monsters. 

     The creature smelled its father’s blood dripping from Dani’s clenched fists. It whimpered, chain clanking as it pressed itself to the far wall of its cell. The sound filled Dani with rage. They lunged. With a swift bite and a wrenching of the head, it was over. The creature lay dead at their feet.

    They didn’t stop to look at what they had done. Closing the door behind them, they shuffled down the hallway towards the red exit sign. As they slunk through the double doors, letting the emergency alarm blare behind them, they heard sirens approaching. Seeing the flashing lights in the distance, they steeled their gaze. They lay in wait in the shadows, tense and waiting. The officer approached, fiddling with her holster. They could see the whites of her eyes. Gore ran down their chin as they snarled, leaping. The blood was warm under Dani’s fingernails.

[sass-and-suspenders]

With You

GIF from Crowzley

Prompt: “We need to talk.”

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Words: 1,351

It started during a quiet night at home. You had been dating Rafael for a few months and, after a particularly rough day for both of you, Rafael showed up on your doorstep with a bag of your favourite takeout in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Wanting a distraction from the day’s stressful events, you put on a random movie as Rafael uncorked the bottle of wine.

“Ugh, this character is so stupid,” you groaned, gesturing with your chopsticks to the blonde on the screen. “Setting off the flare gun while they were hiding from the flesh-eating albino squirrels was bad enough, but did she really have to text her boyfriend ‘We need to talk’ while he was out searching for medical supplies?”

Rafael was too busy chewing to verbally respond, but nodded in agreement.

“I mean,” you continued to complain through bites of Chinese food. “She could have at least told him what she wanted to talk about. That way, he wouldn’t have had to worry about it while fighting off that zombie hippopotamus. Plus, he would have known that she hid the diamonds in that taxidermy giraffe before the monkey ninjas arrived. But, no, she had to be stupid and text him one of the worst things you can ever text someone.” You threw your hands up in the air for emphasis, accidentally flinging some chow mein onto the couch.

“Don’t even get me started on those monkey ninjas,” Rafael grumbled as he speared a dumpling with his chopsticks.

You and Rafael were silent for a while, content to be in each other’s company and watch, what you would later declare, the best worst movie in existence.

“Hey, Raf,” You said, turning your attention from the bad acting and campy dialogue to him. “We need to talk.”

His eyes flicked from the screen to your face, raising an eyebrow.

“About who gets the last egg roll,” you cheekily smiled as you held up the egg roll in question with your chopsticks.

From that night on, we need to talk became your and Rafael’s favourite inside joke. It even became a friendly competition to see who could come up with the most mundane, hilarious, or just downright weird statement. Of course, neither of you were keeping score, but you thought Rafael was probably in the lead after his text of, We need to talk…About Carisi trying my patience >:( 

Over the course of your three-year-long relationship with Rafael, you must have exchanged hundreds of we need to talk texts. In fact, Rafael swore that you had a sixth sense because you always seemed to send them when he was having a bad day.

Take last Wednesday, for instance. Rafael had spilled coffee on his shirt and was changing into one of the spares he kept in his office when his phone lit up with messages from you,

We need to talk

About the Avengers Initiative

Or that day last month when key evidence for a case was declared inadmissible. After consulting with Liv on the courthouse steps, he checked his phone to discover two texts waiting for him,

We need to talk

About your ass in those pants ;)

Or how about the time he was sick with the flu. Miraculously, you were able to persuade him to stay home from work. After making sure he was comfortable, you went out to pick-up medicine and surprise him with soup from his favourite Cuban deli that was halfway across the city. As he was lying on the couch, huddled in blankets and miserably watching daytime television, his cellphone chimed.

We need to talk

About racoon hands (are they tiny people hands or do people have large racoon hands???)

P.S. You better be relaxing and NOT working!

Which brings us to tonight with Rafael stuck at his office, drowning in paperwork.

Rafael was at his desk pouring over witness testimonies with his trusty gold pen in hand. His suit jacket was off, his sleeves were rolled up, and dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes. Case files surrounded him on three sides, giving him the appearance of a weary king living in a castle made of precariously stacked files.

In the middle of mumbling about how the defense wouldn’t know a good plea deal if it bit them in the ass, his cellphone vibrated from atop one of the piles. He scowled at the interruption until he noticed the text was from you.

We need to talk

A second message followed almost immediately.

About Fight Club

A faint smile began to appear on Rafael’s lips as a third message arrived.

…Oops!

Rafael’s small smile escalated into a wide grin as he began typing a reply, letting you know that he would be home late.

Hours later, an exhausted Rafael entered your shared apartment. Loosening his tie, he walked into the living room to discover that you had waited up for him. His heart swelled with love at the sight of you sprawled across the couch.

“Hey,” you smiled lazily at him and made room for him on the couch, the soft hum of the television in the background.

“Hi, cariño. You didn’t have to wait up.”

Rafael made his way over to you, gently kissing the top of your head before collapsing beside you.

“I wanted to,” You told him, rearranging your blanket to cover Rafael. You frowned slightly as you noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “There’s a plate of food for you in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, cariño, but I already ate.”

“Something healthy or did you have those cookies you like from the vending machine?”

“The cookies may have made an appearance,” Rafael admitted.

“I figured,” you said, leaving the couch to go heat up the food. “I know you too well, Rafael Barba.”

Movement on the television screen caught Rafael’s eye and he smiled when he realized what you were watching. “Is this that terrible movie you forced me to watch when we first started dating?”

“Uh, I think you mean the best worst movie in existence,” you corrected from the kitchen.

Rafael rolled his eyes, but didn’t object.

“And besides,” you continued. “From what I remember, you got pretty into it.”

“I did not!” Rafael scoffed.

“Well, you can turn the channel if you want,” you said, returning from the kitchen with the plate of food in one hand and a drink in the other. “I mean it’s not like someone’s favourite part with the cyborg lemurs is coming up.”

“It is?” Rafael eagerly asked as he gratefully accepted the plate. “I guess we can finish it, then.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want it to seem like I’m forcing you,” you teased, nestling into your usual position at his side.

Rafael nodded, the ends of his lips turning upwards as the cyborg lemurs appeared on the screen. For the rest of the movie, however, Rafael’s attention was focused solely on you. Since coming into his life three years ago, you had always made him feel safe and loved. Asking you to move-in with him had been one of the best decisions he ever made; you made his apartment feel like a home the moment you walked through the door with your first overstuffed box. He was in love with you, all of you, including your horrible taste in movies.

He only hoped that you felt the same way about him.

“We need to talk,” Rafael suddenly announced as the credits began to roll.

You shifted from your position under his arm so that you could face him, a smile playing on your lips in anticipation of Rafael’s witty punchline.

But what happened next was not what you expected.

Instead of a joke, Rafael got down on one knee and pulled a small black box from his pocket. A small black box that he had nervously carried around for the last week as he agonized over the perfect way to present it to you.

“About how I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”