#thunder bolt and lightning very very frightening

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 7

(Last of my predrawn beast men, so I should probably see if I can get the next chapter picture drawn despite my slow af laptop fighting me for every bit of existence)

Warnings; Yandere, platonic yandere, romantic yandere yandere behavior, yandere tempers, yandere attitudes, custody battle, poaching, territorial behavior, hoard guarding, implied violence, cooking, casual threats, untrusting yet kind-hearted reader, fem pronouned reader, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Cervitaur, Dragon, Crow, Unicorn, Cecilia, Harpy, Nemean Lion, Shinigami, Water Nymph, Gnoll, Crow,

~~~~~~~~

The loud crack of thunder drew you from your deep sleep. You had been pressing your face and entire body into the warmth beneath you and you could already feel the faint imprints along your cheek from whatever you were laying on. Thunder continued to roll outside and you slowly tried to gather your bearings.

Currently, you were in the nest Malleus had constructed in Ramshackle, though you were not the only occupant when you fell asleep or when you woke up. Lilia and Sebek were awake, their gazes turned outside and it was still rather dark out. You slowly sat up, trying to see what was so interesting outside when a green bolt of lighting struck the ground near Ramschackle. The sudden lighting forced a squeak of fright to escape you which drew the attention of Lilia and Sebek.

"I was worried he would wake you. It's alright, (Y/n), go back to sleep."

"What's going on, Lilia?"

"An unfortunate poacher decided to try their luck and Malleus was the one who took note of their presence. Don't worry, you're safe."

"Is Malleus okay?"

Lilia giggled at this, reaching out a hand to pat your head in an affectionate way. He was acting as if he didn't just say Malleus was fighting someone who was trying to hunt you down for their own nefarious gains.

"Of course he is. Malleus is a Dragon and there are very few who can actually stand up against a Dragon."

You were going to respond to Lilia when you noticed something strange. Silver didn't seem to be present and he certainly wasn't with Lilia or Sebek. Worry began to bubble up in your chest as to where the Reindeer man could possibly be before you felt the warm bed beneath you breathe.

Looking down, you were both horrifed with yourself and the situation as you realized you had been laying across Silver's Reindeer half like a bed. Your legs straddled the Reindeer's hips and you had likely been nuzzled down into the shoulder blades of the deer half. His human half was sitting up and completely still even as one of his blue and purple aurora colored eyes stared at you over his shoulder.

He was very warm and soft.

"Oh? Oh! Goodness, Silver, I'm so sorry-!"

As soon as it hit you that you must have crawled on top of the Reindeer during the night, you were quickly trying to get off of his back. Lilia actually started to laugh as you quickly dismounted from the Reindeer's back, falling back into a pile of pillows and disrupting poor Grim. The cat-like creature responded in a startled way to being jostled, his pronged tail lashing wildly as his fur stood on end in fear. You would have laughed at the startled response if you didn't feel so badly about frightening him to that point.

"Myeh?! Hey! What's the big deal? I'm sleeping-"

Another crack of thunder sent the furball diving forward to hide against your stomach, shaking in abject horror from the uncomfortably close sound. Of course Grim would be terrified of lightning, who knows how easily that 'den' of his would flood in a storm or how close he has been to being struck by a bolt. You couldn't help but pull the soft gray critter closer, petting his torn ears and back to try and soothe him even as his little wings shook.

"... You can lay on my back if that will help you sleep."

The almost tired drawl came from Silver as he slightly turned to look at you better, his Reindeer half partially rolling to one side when he yawned. Despite how inviting the offer was, you were still upset with yourself and worried you had offended the silver haired man somehow. Though you had been dubious about sharing the large nest with your- mostly uninvited- guests, you had been the one to invade his personal space and even climbed on his back while you slept.

"No! No, it's okay. I'm so sorry, Silver. I didn't mean to-"

"Why are you so upset?"

"... What?"

"I'm not angry, if that's why you're worried. Father sleeps on my back quite often during the day. I'm not angry you chose me as your sleeping companion."

"But I didn't mean to-"

"I know. You likely were drawn to how warm I typically am. It is quite drafty in this building, and it doesn't seem like there is any central heating."

You made a mental note to ask the professors about potentially acquiring a heated blanket to avoid cuddling your bed companions while you slept. It seemed like Silver was being truthful with you as Lilia crawled over to your side from where he had been gazing out the window. He was quick to flop down across the secondary shoulders of the large Reindeer and ruffled the silver fur with his Bat wings as he made himself comfortable.

"Silver's nice and soft, and his coat always keeps him warm even in winter. He really does make a good bed whenever I need a quick nap. Besides, he makes such cute little snoring sounds-"

"Father!"

"Keeheehee, just saying~ (Y/n), you should have seen him when he was just a little wobbly calf. I have some pictures back at Diasomnia I can show you. His legs were so long and he always tripped over them-"

"Father, please."

Lilia's joking helped calm your stress from the situation and also seemed to be helping Grim calm down. The blue-eyed cat-bat finally lifted his head from where he had been hiding his face against your stomach, reaching out a paw to touch the Reindeer's side. He clearly must have liked how warm and soft Silver was as he crawled out of your arms, curling up next to Lilia on Silver's back and snuggling down into the shaggy fur. You almost missed it, but as you looked up at Silver you could see a clear bright pink blush painting his fair cheeks before he looked away.

"It's over. My liege is on his way back."

Sebek said calmly, still looking outside with an almost unreadable expression. The lightning hadn't struck more than once and the thunder quickly quieted down after the first boom that woke you. It was almost like the storm was not actually a storm and you wondered just what it was that caused the lightning or why it was green.

He entered the room silently, only his bright green eyes were visible in the dark of the hallway as if he were wreathed in shadows themselves before he entered the room. Moonlight streamed across his form and he was once again the odd Dragon that had stumbled across you that first day.

"Did I wake you, child of man?"

"The thunder did."

"My apologies."

"Why are you apologizing for thunder? You didn't make it happen... Right?"

Malleus smiled as he returned to the nest, settling by your side and smiling at you patiently. It must not have been raining as he didn't seem to have a drop of water on him. He tilted his head and regarded you affectionately as if he were watching a beloved pet paw at him for attention.

"How little you know... Don't worry, there won't be anymore thunder tonight. I have the feeling that my message was recieved loud and clear."

"Did..." you found it oddly difficult to talk, "did you kill someone?"

Malleus didn't answer you, he just slowly blinked and reached out a clawed hand, patting your head gently. You found yourself wanting a bit more distance from the Dragon, wondering if you made a mistake to ask a question you truly did not want the answer to. As per usual, Lilia was quick to interrupt the tension with a loud yawn and stretch as if to imply you all should return to sleep.

"Here, (Y/n), I'll groom you to sleep again!"

"You really don't have to, Lilia."

"But I want to."

"One of these days I need to talk to everyone about personal space..."

~•§•~

The early morning dawn seemed to be a sleepy one as things slowly emerged from their warm beds and into the brisk morning. The low roll of thunder heard late in the night was certainly not lost on anyone as to the source of the sound. Even the few who rose for an early meeting seemed to be acutely aware of the Dragon's absence.

"Good morning, all. I have called this meeting at the behest of Riddle concerning the most recent events of orientation."

The Headmage stood at the head of the table, his feathers slightly ruffled from sleep as it was still quite early in the day. He usually rose with the sun and clearly had more energy than some of the Housewardens sitting at the table. Leona was barely awake as he lay with his head on the table, only the flicking tail showed the Nemean Lion was even conscious.

"As I am sure you all know by now, we have a Human living in the dorm on the main campus. Unlike most dorms, you do not need to enter a mirror to get to it and so it is easier for outsiders to access. However, there is no other place the Human can stay without putting her at risk of too curious students. Riddle, you told me you had a solution in mind for this?"

Riddle nodded, clearing his throat and straightening his bow.

"(Y/n) is Human and we all understand the gravity of the situation at hand. Humans died out from Twisted Wonderland centuries ago and now one has appeared in our school. It is our duty as Housewardens to assist in the safeguarding of this Human as her survival could mean the beginning of advancements made far beyond our lifetimes and even in our lives now. I'm sure we all understand the importance of keeping her safe. This being said, I am of the mind that it's time to switch out who is safeguarding (Y/n). This should be a shared duty of all the Housewardens, not just a privilege exclusive to Diasomnia."

Crowley nodded, leaning against his hand as he gave the proposition more thought. It seemed several of the other Housewardens were in agreement- at least, those who were physically present- at the idea of a shared responsibility.

"I, for one, think this is a wonderful idea, Riddle. Octavinelle is ready to open our doors to this poor unfortunate soul and keep her safe."

"You aren't usually one to offer help without a price, Azul. What are you looking to get out of this?"

"Nothing, of course! Just looking to help the less fortunate."

"I highly doubt that, Azul."

It was then Vil spoke up, the Harpy regarding the other Housewardens as if assessing them while he spoke. He could raise issue with letting the soft Human stay with any one of these uncouth ruffians.

"I agree that we all need to take turns guarding the Human, but how many of us can honestly be trusted with her? It is clear now that all of Twisted Wonderland will soon know she is here if they don't already. Frankly I wouldn't trust any one of you with her safety. Riddle, what makes you think you should be the one to protect her?"

"W-What?"

"It was one of your dorm's students who decided to post a picture of her. I think your dorm has done enough damage for now. I should think you would agree to revoke your own rights to guard her until you can prove you are able to keep your students in line."

"What is that supposed to mean, Vil?"

"Oh? Do I have to spell it out for you? Usually you're smarter than this, Riddle."

Vil stood, his crest raised and an almost cruel smile curling his lips as he approached the distraught Unicorn. As far as Riddle was concerned, only he knew the rules to taking proper care of a Human so only he could provide adequate accommodations for her. But the way Vil spoke made a dark kind of doubt seep into Riddle's mind, wondering if the Harpy could be right and that alone was an upsetting reality Riddle didn't really want to face at the moment.

"You can't even begin to protect that Human from students in your own dorm, how can you hope protect her from actual threats?"

Riddle wanted to retort or have the grinning Harpy's head but he couldn't find the words to respond to the proud bird. Vil only grinned wider at the silence he was met with before turning to the other Housewardens with that same energy.

"None of you can. Leona shouldn't even be considered given he's a Nemean Lion. Azul will try to make a deal with her. Kalim will lose her within minutes. Idia can't even talk to us let alone talk to and protect her. Really, the only two who could be of any use are Malleus and I. Malleus is genetically wired to be a good guardian and I certainly have enough skill to actually keep her alive."

Crowley considered Vil's words, tilting his head side to side as he thought about what the Harpy said. He was of the mind to just let the Human choose her own guard, but maybe he would have to reconsider that given how upset the Housewardens were getting over her and it had only been two days. There was truth to the unusual charm of the extinct species and the hold they clearly had over others even in such a short time.

"I think you all are ignoring the bigger truth and being selfish as hell."

The growl came from the golden lion that now lifted his head from the table he had been resting it on. His green eyes glinted in the morning light and the faint sunrays seemed to shine off of his golden coat. Even his wild tresses held a faint glimmer that made the prince look every bit as regal as his lineage suggested.

"She isn't from here. She has a home she likely wants to go back to. We can't talk like we're keeping her when we should find a way to send that Mousey home."

"I would agree with you, Leona," Azul started, his eyes glinting with humor at the knowledge he was about to reveal, "but there are a few problems with that notion. Jade and I spoke with her yesterday and she claims she came from somewhere filled with Humans. There is nowhere like that left in Twisted Wonderland. I would wager she is from another reality entirely, one where only Humans thrive. One that we can't get to despite many trying in the past to prove we are not alone. I don't know how she got here, but she is stuck here now. Besides, do you really want to be the one to tell Malleus we are taking his Human away? I get you don't pay attention in classes, but I certainly do and I have heard the many tales of Dragons going as far as to kidnap Humans they are fond of."

Leona growled a low warning to the Cecilia to watch his words lest he be the recieving party of the Lion's ire. Though he was a lazy Lion and didn't seem to be bothered with much, he was still a force to be reckoned with when he actually decided to fight.

"Why the hell should I care why that damn lizzard wants the Human?"

"Well, Dragons and other Fae did take the extinction of Humans the hardest and mourn the longest, I would wager the older ones are still in mourning. Next to them, the Merfolk were the next most heartbroken by the ending of such a fascinating species. I wouldn't expect you to understand- being a Nemean Lion and all- but-"

"Keep talking, Cephalo-punk and I'll give you something to mourn over."

Azul closed his mouth quickly, knowing he wouldn't actually stand a chance if pitted against the weapon-immune golden Lion. For all his abilities, so many seemed to pale in comparison to the sheer strength Leona contained in his form alone. Out of the water, a Lion would always win in a direct fight against an octopus, the same was true for Nemean Lions and Cecilia.

"I can protect her better than most of you but none of you want to admit that. You all want to pretend I'll gobble that little Mousey up and refuse to even let me stand my own ground. What? Too afraid she'll like me more than you lot?"

This got Vil's feathers to ruffle as the Harpy seemed ready to fight the grinning Lion that so clearly challenged those at the table. Luckily for everyone else, the floating tablet finally decided to interrupt the conversation.

"Fine, we all gotta do it. I vote everyone's dorm gets put in a raffle and the next Housewarden to guard her is chosen that way."

"This is unlike you, Idia. You don't even show up in person to most classes."

"Humans were the best inventors we had before they died out. The last human lived on the Isle of Woe and made enough inventions to keep the Shroud family rich for centuries. Why wouldn't I want the best story telling species and most inventive species to give me new ideas? Probably why you want her too, Azul."

"Well, I certainly understand a profitable business venture when one is presented to me..."

"Exactly my point."

Crowley nodded, clapping his hands together and drawing the attention of those at the table. He heard exactly what he wanted to hear and he was willing to give every Housewarden a fair chance, even Leona.

"I believe a raffle is a fantastic idea, Mr. Shroud! And because I am just so kind to all, every Housewarden will be given a fair shot."

"Headmage, I beg you to reconsider-"

"Let's start this raffle!"

Riddle tried to start but the Crow had made up his mind and there was no changing it. As he used magic to summon his usual way of raffling students, he glanced around the room for a moment. Odd, he only counted six but there should be seven?

"... Did no one remember to invite Mr. Draconia to today's meeting?"

~•§•~

You stood in the kitchen of Ramschackle dorms, tiredly cooking up enough breakfast to feed your uninvited guests, Cater, yourself, and Grim. Despite your annoyance at being the only one to cook- let alone being the only one who really knew how- you dutifully continued your task. According to Silver, Lilia actually cooked often but was so abysmally bad at it they all thought cooking was a useless skill. It wasn't until you cooked for them that they even realized cooking food could actually make it taste better and not worse.

"If you all insist on making me cook for you, I'm going to insist you all provide the ingredients. The kitchen may be well stocked now, but if I have to keep feeding extra mouths every day the pantry is going to eventually run out."

You idly listened to the sizzle as you half-jokingly scolded the group that milled about your kitchen and sniffed in your direction occasionally. They were eager to get some breakfast from you and had all woken up before you did in anticipation for the warm meal you would no doubt create. Apparently you had once again moved to cuddle Silver's warm body in your sleep and the Reindeer refused to let Grim or even Lilia wake you before the sun was mostly up. The five others in the shared nest were all in agreement to let you wake on your own time, but your actual invited guest was quick to herald in the morning and woke you. It seemed like Malleus and Sebek were ready to attack the redhead but quickly calmed when you pulled yourself out of the nest to start cooking.

Cater had been an affectionate nuisance and asked you nonstop questions about what you were doing and how Humans cooked things. It became very clear to you- based on his questions and curiosity- that junkfood really didn't exist in Twisted Wonderland. Despite how you wanted to cry upon hearing this and mourn the loss of your comfort foods, you realized that you may be able to make your own junkfoods. You would certainly need help acquiring things, but there had to be some kind of inventive monster on this campus that could help you.

"I agree! These guys can bring the food and you can cook it! Why let them get all this free stuff if they don't help with getting or making it?"

"I can help cook-"

You were quick to smack the reaching hand with your wooden spoon, startling Lilia as his wings fluffed out in surprise.

"You," you started with a near threatening tone, "will keep your hands off of the things in my kitchen. Silver already told me how your cooking is and I will not allow you to scorch my meals."

"I think I'm a pretty good cook-"

"The answer is 'no'. You don't get to cook in my kitchen. I agree with Grim that it would be a welcome change to have you all bring me the foods you want and maybe even more spices than the few I have here, but you aren't cooking. If you really want to help me right now, you can start washing dishes."

Silver sent a silent thanks your way for sparing him and the others from another evening spent eating Lilia's cooking. The Bat Fae had learned to love cooking from the few Humans he had the pleasure of meeting, but he was so abysmally bad at it that his 'meals' could barely be considered food. Malleus and Sebek were also relieved to see you quickly shut down any idea of letting Lilia cook and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"I can do dishes! Riddle and Trey make me do them all the time. Don't know why Trey never lets me help him bake things though."

Cater was quick to roll up his sleeves, starting on the pile of dishes that had already begun to accumulate in the large sink. Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad if you could get your freeloaders to help clean or gather ingredients instead of doing it all yourself. Despite calling them freeloaders, you were appreciative of at least Malleus and Lilia being fairly adept guards for your safety. It did make you wonder what Malleus had done last night, but you also felt in your heart of hearts that you didn't really want to know if the lovely Dragon had killed someone on your behalf.

"Hey," there was loud scratching at that side door again and you already knew who it was, "the door's locked again. Please, have mercy, I'm just a starving Gnoll."

"... I really shouldn't have fed him. He's gonna come back every day and night for more."

You had the foresight to add extra to what you were making, anticipating the unusual pull your cooking seemed to have on the local monster population. Part of you wanted to keep feeding Ruggie as the gaunt appearance of the ever hungry Gnoll pulled at your heartstrings. His clear hunger and almost non-existent stomach told you just how little the Hyena man actually ate and it genuinely saddened you to know he was likely actually starving.

"Lilia, can you get the door?"

"On it~"

Ruggie was quick to scamper up to your side and sniff loudly at the food you were cooking. His tail wagged at almost impossible speeds as his stomach howled to be satiated, his Hyena head bobbing up and down when he began to cackle in excitement. Despite the warnings you had received about Gnolls, Ruggie didn't act like a slavering beast that sought Human flesh, instead he seemed much like someone who grew up never knowing when he could eat again or if he would be safe in the night. He reminded you so much of that first good look you got at Grim, covered in all the scars that riddled his little body and marred his cute appearance with tales of agony sustained. Both of them made you want to protect them however you could.

As you moved over to another pan which you had been using to cook up some scrambled eggs, you couldn't help but chuckle when Ruggie continued to vocalize his excitement. The cackling and whooping from the Hyena was almost a comforting song in the background of your morning. It was only when he reached a grizzled paw towards the pans that you barked out a similar whoop at him. Your sound startled the Gnoll as his gaze snapped to you in surprise, his nose working overtime as if to find the fellow Gnoll that whooped in response to his sounds.

"Woah! You didn't say you knew how to speak Gnoll!"

"I don't."

"What was that then?"

"Where I'm from, Humans are typically quite good at vocal mimicry because it is how most of our infants learn to speak. You were whooping, so I whooped back."

Ruggie cocked his head to the side curiously, you could almost see the gears in his head turning and grinding as he took in your words. His short tail had been still as he lost himself in thought before it resumed the rapid wagging pace as his brain caught back up to the rest of him.

"Cool! What other sounds can you make?"

The rest of your time cooking was spent making various noises- from growls, to cackles, even to various barking- to entertain the Gnoll and distract him from the food. Once it was ready, you had Sebek get enough plates for the eight of you and set to divvying up the meals. Naturally, Ruggie and Grim were the first to happily dig in to their breakfasts.

Things were peaceful and somewhat quiet, but as it usually was in this strange new world, things were not going to stay quiet for long.

"(Y/n)," a familiar voice called from the direction of the door to your dorms, recognizing the voice of the Headmage Crow, "I have news and a gift for you, my little chick! Where are you?"

"We're in the kitchen!"

The Headmage was surprised to see the odd group you had gathered in your kitchen, looking over the various students in surprise.

"Mr. Diamond? What are you doing here?"

"I told Cater he could stay here for the night since he was kicked out of his dorm. Sure, what he did was stupid and I am still mad about it, but no one should have to spend a night in those woods. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something terrible happened to him, especially in the name of protecting me."

"It's beautiful," the Crow sniffed as if he were about to cry, "such a heartwarming display of genuine kindness! I would expect nothing less from the beautiful heart of a Human! I've missed you wonderfully naïve and forgiving little creatures so much! Nothing quite like a Human's forgiveness to soothe the turbulent soul!"

You were stunned when the Crow actually burst into tears, covering his face with his hands and openly weeping from your- in your mind- simple act of kindness. It seemed the others weren't prepared for this behavior either as they all stared at the fully grown Crow Fae man weeping and bawling like an infant. He was quick to compose himself despite the sudden onslaught of tears as he pulled you into a hug you were too surprised to return, wondering what his problem was that he was so ready to emotionally break down in front of you.

"My beautiful little chick is the kindest soul to ever live and grace these halls with such a warm heart!"

"Um..."

"Here," he interrupted your confusion and pulled back to shove a hastily wrapped package into your hands, "A gift from your professors! It's a cellular device to let you communicate with us when you need. Sam assures me Idia has already programed our numbers into it and it is ready to be used whenever you wish."

"Thanks? Why-"

"Also! The other Housewardens and I have come to an agreement concerning your continued need for guards due to Mr. Diamond's actions. All Housewardens and their accompanying Vice-Housewardens will contribute to protecting this dorm and will switch out every week based on a raffle. This week is Diasomnia's turn, next week is Ignihyde's turn. You haven't met Idia or Ortho yet, but they'll be by to introduce themselves soon. Well, Ortho probably will be, Idia is excited to meet you but he isn't one to socialize much..."

A deep snarl came from where Malleus stood, casually setting his plate down to face the Crow directly and continue the deep percussive noise of his displeasure. It was more than obvious to everyone that the Dragon was not content with the idea of giving you up even for others to guard.

"You dare divvy up my hoard like I should have no say in what happens to her? My Human is not a pet to trade with anyone and everyone who takes interest."

"I'm not saying that, Malleus, what I am saying is her protection should be taken seriously by all students at Night Raven College and the best way to show others she is worth defending is to allow them time to form their own bonds with her by protecting her. Besides, Diasomnia needs their Housewarden and Vice-Housewarden. It isn't fair to those students to be left without yourself and Mr. Vanrouge permanently."

Malleus just growled in response, knowing Crowley was right but still furious he was not part of the decision making process.

"And Kingscholar? What of his dorm?"

"Mr. Kingscholar is a Housewarden and has made a convincing argument for allowing himself to be one of (Y/n)'s guards. As Savanaclaw has no Vice-Housewarden, it will soley fall on his shoulders when his name is drawn."

Ruggie then spoke up, trying to give yourself and Malleus a wide berth to not upset the Dragon further. Though the Gnoll was quick to fold to more powerful mages, he was excited to hear Leona would be given a chance and equal respect as a Housewarden.

"If Leona actually asked to help, no way he will let anyone tell him no. He doesn't like doing extra work, so the fact he volunteered for extra work shows he actually means to do it!"

"Exactly my thinking! Why deny such a strong student a chance to prove himself? Who knows, perhaps his time with (Y/n) will prove Nemean Lions do not deserve the negative view society has of them."

You were irritated that none of these men bothered to ask you how you feel about the situation, but if the nighttime interruptions were anything to go off of, you were still in danger. Though the prospect of being bounced around between several monster men didn't excite you, there was obviously need for their protective behavior.

"Now, I hope you all enjoy your classes today. I hear there may even be an unbirthday party happening in Heartslabuyl that you may wish to attend. Have a pleasant morning, my little chick."

[adventuresofalgy]

Surrounded by such remarkable views on such a beautiful day Algy felt so utterly full of songs that he felt he must hop back quickly over the wee ravine to The Singing Place, so that he could let some of them out in the proper manner before he burst.

The Singing Place was a very special rocky outcrop which those of Algy's friends who remember his first children's book A Surprisingly Fluffy Bird may perhaps recognise (see cover illustration below ☺️). It was here that Algy first told the tale of his dramatic and dangerous journey to the west coast of Scotland by sea to a crowd of assembled birds and animals, and, as a lonely castaway refugee, was thus able to make new friends in this land which was to become his home.

But on this much later occasion Algy had no visible audience except a distant sheep, who simply stared at him with disdain for a moment or two then continued its search for something nutritious to eat, which was undoubtedly a considerable challenge in this harsh environment and would require all the intelligence which a sheep could manage to muster…

Undeterred, Algy decided to sing his long ballad once again, just as he had done years ago. Who could tell who might be listening, hiding among the heather or the rocks?

As no human has ever heard Algy singing the saga of his voyage across the ocean it's very difficult to say what the tune might be, but the words have been recorded for posterity, and the song starts like this:

Once, upon a stormy day, Not long ago, but far away, A fluffy bird with hair of gold Perched on a branch, But lost his hold. And sad to say (Truth must be told) He fell into the water cold, He fell into the sea. He tumbled down into the sea; That clumsy fluffy bird was me. The wind began to roar and shout, The surf tossed foam and spray about, There wasn’t any time to think, He tried to float, Began to sink. Then suddenly a waterspout Swept by and saved him from the brink Of drowning in the briny drink: It sucked him from the sea. It snatched him boldly from the sea; That drowning fluffy bird was me. The day was dark, the clouds were black, The spout spun on a frantic track, Twirling fast across the sky, The bird on top Was riding high. The thunderclouds began to crack, And lightning bolts went flashing by: The poor bird thought that he would die And perish in the sea. He thought he’d perish in the sea; That wretched fluffy bird was me. The waterspout rushed straight ahead, The bird was shuddering with dread: His future seemed so very short, The fluffy bird Was quite distraught. As madly over sea he fled, The waves were in his every thought; The bird’s predicament was fraught With danger from the sea. His life was threatened by the sea; That frightened fluffy bird was me. Then, all at once, the lightning flashed, The sky burst open, thunder crashed; The waterspout released its grip, And soon the bird Began to slip. Back down into the sea he splashed; Beneath the waves he took a dip As frantically he tried to flip Back up out of the sea. He tried to jump out from the sea; That frantic fluffy bird was me. His leaping was to no avail, The ocean had him by the tail; Foul salty water filled his throat When suddenly He saw a boat With battered mast, and tattered sail Made out of some poor sailor’s coat. And there was something else afloat – A bobbing raft upon the sea. He saw a raft upon the sea; That startled fluffy bird was me. The boat was nothing but a wreck, No soul was left upon its deck: There was no sign of the crew’s fate, A story Sorry to relate. The bird struck out; he had to reach The raft: it seemed to be a crate. He wondered: would it take his weight Upon the tossing sea? A crate was rocking on the sea; That struggling fluffy bird was me. A lucky change in the sea’s swell Conveyed the drowning bird so well That he was thrown against the raft With so much force He almost laughed, And uttered an exultant yell Of joy, to find himself so close abaft A seaworthy and comfy craft: A nest upon the sea. He found a nest upon the sea; That happy fluffy bird was me. The floating crate was strong and sound, Secured with tacks and wire around. He grabbed hold of the rocking side And quickly Hauled himself inside. Overjoyed that he had found A raft upon the ocean wide, He curled up happily and sighed, Then rested on the sea. The bird was safe upon the sea; That rescued fluffy bird was me.

[Algy is singing the first nine verses of his long self-composed song The Ballad of a Fluffy Bird Lost at Sea, which appears in the penultimate chapter of his first childrens's book A Surprisingly Fluffy Bird. You can discover more about Algy's children's books on his own new web site, or on any Amazon site. Here's the link to the series on the Amazon US site, for example.]

[sweetbunpura]

Trey is called "The Muffin Man"

(Yuu: Do you know..The Muffin Man?

Deuce: The muffin man?

Yuu: THE MUFFIN MAN!!!)

Lilia's is either Batman or "How do you do, fellow kids?"

Silver's is just "Sweet Dreams are made of these"

Sebek is "THUNDER BOLTS AND LIGHTNING, VERY VERY FRIGHTENING-"

Lilia is literally just a full picture of "How do you do, fellow kids?"

*in the tune of mama mia* WAKA-SAMA!

Ruggie is "Thrift Shop"

Azul "Extended Car Warranty"

No one should ever look at Yuu's phone for the sake that everyone will learn what she calls them.

[janeway-lover]

thunder bolts and lightning, very very frightening!

[spacecasehobbit]

Infinitely easier to come up with fake fic titles, I can do that all day. How about "I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake" or "thunder and lightning (very very frightening)" lol

I am jealous of this skill! I even trip myself up coming up with fake titles, lol. But onto the fake fics for the fake titles!

--

"I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake"

Angst! Angst seems like the obvious answer, here, haha.

There's lots of potential for a fic with this title in AtLA.... Zukka could go either way (or both ways :p). I could see a Tyzula option with lots of Ty Lee secretly pining for Azula and knowing it's a mistake every time she finds little ways to feed her crush and hope it won't end in the inevitable heartbreak that she knows is coming.

But the one I'm leaning towards most is an Iroh-introspective piece in which Iroh (one who is absolutely, 100% just as Dramatic as the rest of his family, even if he pretends to be quieter about it) finds all new ways to blame himself for both Lu Ten's death and Zuko's burning immediately after the Agni Kai with Ozai, all while desperately trying to keep up a mask of hope and cheer every time Zuko wakes up long enough to look his way.

The mistakes were too numerous to count, and every one is an impossible weight he must learn to bear anyway. The secret is that he's dying inside even when he's smiling.

--

"Thunder and lightning (very very frightening)"

This one immediately inspired, "lighthearted and cute," lol.

For AtLA: maybe a Zukka fic in which Sokka experiences his first thunderstorm in the Fire Nation's rainy season, after starting his new position as Ambassador for the SWT.

Sokka is merely trying to hunker down in his warm and cozy ambassador room with some warm and cozy stew, when who should appear, between one lightning flash and another, on a nearby hilltop visible from his window - outside, in the rain - but Mr. Crazy-Fire-Guy Zuko... who is, apparently, practicing getting hit by lightning in the middle of the storm.

Who does that?

Zuko. Of course, Zuko does that, because Zuko is a crazy Fire Nation royal - Fire Nation Fire Lord, even - who would stand around in a lightning storm, shirtless, redirecting giant bolts of energy from the sky with his bare hands, with no concern whatsoever for either getting fried or for frying poor Sokka's nerves. First with, "Oh no!" and then with, "Oh, no."

[storybounded]

B.G3 Scott Stats:

✬ High Half Elf ✬ Paladin ✬ Oath of Devotion ✬ Noble

✬ Current in-game: Level 5 ✬

More under the cut ( since it's gonna get long )

Basic Skills:

Athletics: 8

History: 5

Insight: 5

Persuasion: 7

Oath of Devotion

Paladins who take this oath abide from the following tenets: - Courage. Stride dauntlessly into action. - Compassion. Lend your arm to those in need. - Duty. Tend to your responsibilities. Obey the laws and support those entrusted in your care. Failure to abide by their tenets will result in a paladin forsaking their oath, and becoming something very different as an oath breaker.

Cantrips

Shocking Grasp ( lightning ) - Sends a magical electrical surge through his grip. The target cannot use reactions. This spell has an advantage on creatures with metal armor.

Poison Spray ( up to 10 ft )- Conjure a puff of noxious gas. (TBH I cannot remember why I chose this last year, I like to think it's something akin to bear spray in Scott's case since he was born a noble. So more self protection taught to him by his family).

Resistance- Make a chosen target more resistant to spell effects.

Speak with the dead - Grant a semblance of life to a humanoid corpse, allowing it to answer five questions. ( Scott gained this ability sometime AFTER being infected by the tadpole. Desperate times calls for desperate measures...)

Speak with animals ( I know this was learned AFTER the tadpole, but in my head, he was born with this ability thanks to his elf-side.)

Paladin Spells:

Wrathful Smite - Possibly frighten your target and make them unable to move.

Divine Favor - Weapon attacks deal an addition 1-4 radiant damage for a short period of time.

Shield of Faith - Protect anyone from attacks and increase armor class by 2 for a short period of time.

Thunderous Smite - Pushes your target 10 feet away and possible knock em' down.

Aid- Heal allies and increase their hit max by five points.

Magic Weapon - Infuse a weapon with arcane energy. I like to imagine Scott infuses it with his electrical magic.

Protection from Poison- Touch someone to neutralize all poisons affecting it and grant it protection against poisonous influences.

Always Available Spells:

Protection from Evil and Good- Protects an ally against the attacks and powers of aberrations, celestials, fey, fiends, and the undead. The target cannot be charmed, frightened, or possessed.

Sanctuary- You or an ally cannot be targeted until you attack or harm someone. You can still take damage from area spells.

Lesser Restoration: A basic healing spell

Silence: Create a sound proof sphere. all within are silenced and immune to thunder damage.

Class Actions:

Holy Rebuke- Grant an Ally a vengeful aura that can deal 1-4 radiant damage to anyone who hits them with a mele attack.

Sacred Weapon- Weapon emits a bright light and has a higher chance of hitting hard.

Turn the unholy: Turn the nearby undead and fiends for a short period of time. They are forced to flee and cannot come close. Scott reserves this for worst/final case scenarios if they are surrounded.

Lay on hands: Magical touch that can heal.

Divine Sense: Gain an advantage on attack rolls against celestials, fiends, and the undead.

Divine Smite: Deal an additional 1-8 radiant damage to fiends and the undead.

Physical Weapon Actions:

Piercing Shot- deal regular damage and possibly inflict gaping wounds, which cause extra damage on attacks. The undead are unaffected though...

Brace- from what I an understand, it's movement speed for a short period of time.

Sacred Munitions- Infuse your crossbow bolts with holy energy.

Pommel Strike- Make a non lethal attack against an enemy and possibly daze them.

Lacerate- Slash your target's vital points to make em' bleed. Undead are unaffected...

Cleave- Swing a weapon in a large arc to attack multiple enemies at once.

Main Hand Attack- Make basic melee attack

Ranged Attack - Make a basic ranged attack with a ranged weapon

Other fun facts:

See Invisibility ( BIG TMI warning for eye injury, feel free to skip to speedy sparks below) - Can see invisible creatures within 30 ft. However, this was caused by surgery that made him lose his real eye due to an agonizing failed attempt to get the tadpole out of his head...so Scott very much has a magical prosthetic eye in this verse. Rip scott 😅. (I totally forgot I did this last year. More of my choice than his. It is useful, okay? 😂)

Speedy Sparks- Charges his lightning magic when dashing.

Feller of monsters - Advantage against monstrosity type enemies.

Noble- Scott has proficiency in history and persuasion as a result of his past - steeped in silken nobility.

Civil Militia - Due to being a paladin, Scott has weapon and armor proficiency.

Fey Ancestry: Scott has an advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic cannot put him to sleep.

Dark Vision: Also, due to his fey ancestry, Scott can see in the dark up to 40 ft.

Divine Health: to bank off his elf ancestry, the magic flowing within his veins prevents diseases.

Dueling: Scott is better suited to wielding a melee weapon that is not two handed. Thus, he can hold a weapon in one hand, and a shield in the other.

[naavispider]

Chapter 32 - If you playing me that mean my home aint home

A clap of thunder rumbled through the cool air, vibrating through the deck - through the very boat itself. Spider shuddered awake with a gasp.

A flash of lightning illuminated the sleeping huddles that were the recoms. No one else was awake. No lights were on. 

The sky rumbled again, louder this time. Spider sat bolt upright. The totality of the darkness consumed him - he wasn’t used to this level of blackness in the forest. 

The noise shook his bones, turning his blood to ice. It sent memories from the death machine spinning through his mind. He wanted to go inside. He wanted to stay with the recoms. He didn’t know what to do… he sat, frozen.

Realising he didn’t want to even make the short walk to the airlock on his own, he tried to remain calm. 

Despising himself, he summoned the courage to crawl over to the nearest sleeping huddle - Miles Quaritch. The next blaze of lightning spurred him on, like a frightened rat , he thought angrily to himself as he reached the man’s unconscious body. 

He paused - unsure what to do now. The deck was hard and cold underneath his hands and knees. He wanted to reach out, to… he didn’t know what. Wake Quaritch? And say what? That he was scared of the weather ?

Instead he curled up by the recom’s shins, trying to get as much body contact with the man as possible, while still keeping some semblance of distance. His back was the length of the entire man’s lower legs. 

Quaritch stirred. 

His movements must have woken him. Great . 

He rested there for a while, shivering slightly under the angry sky, waiting tensely to see if Quaritch was still asleep.

His unasked question was answered by the man’s huge arm, which came down and pulled Spider up, so he was level with Quaritch’s chest. Spider slid easily along the metallic floor, and prayed his gratitude to Eywa that the man hadn’t fully started spooning him. 

The man pulled his jacket off himself and over Spider groggily. Spider wondered if the recom was really awake; whether he’d remember this in the morning. 

For now, he was content to remain by Quaritch’s side, space between them, but still feeling the protection of his presence. He sheltered from the thunder underneath the colonel’s heavy arm, but it took him a long time to fall back asleep. 

*******

Morning brought more fear and anxiety with it. As the first rays of light broke over the watery horizon, the surviving members of Project Pheonix rose one by one to greet the day. If any of them had thoughts about the sight of the Colonel and his boy curled up next to each other, nobody spoke them aloud. 

Quaritch was the last to wake, or perhaps he was just the last to move. He had realised Spider was there, in front of him, a couple of hours ago, and he hadn’t been able to stop his swelling heart from melting. It felt like a talisman he would carry around in his chest all day - the feeling of hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Spider would be okay, whatever dumb decisions he made, however hard he had to push the kid, and whatever war-based trauma they found themselves going through. 

Aside from this, he hoped the boy was speaking again today, or at least seemed more with it than he was yesterday. Probably he had just needed a rest from going along with their war crimes, and a good night’s sleep.

His hopes were affirmed as Spider stirred, rubbing his eyes and stretching out. He could tell just from the kid’s body language that he was more comfortable. He let Spider sit up and look around before seeking verbal confirmation.

“How you doing today kid?” 

Spider had started to root through the pocket of Quaritch’s pack that contained the snacks. “Depends,” he said in a measured tone. He swallowed without looking at Quaritch. “Any plans to terrorise Na’vi today?”

Quaritch knew that Spider already understood the answer to that. 

“We’re hitting up an island further South,” he replied carefully. “One we were supposed to do yesterday,” he added. 

Spider didn’t reply, just grabbed a protein bar and stood. “Going to the bathroom,” he said, turning away towards the outside cubicle on the other end of the deck. 

Quaritch watched him go. That seemed like remarkable progress. The kid was up, walking and talking - a vast improvement on yesterday’s turn for the worse. He needed to let Scoresby know to set a course for the island as soon as possible. 

Most of the other recoms had gone to breakfast already, so when Spider returned they followed suit, passing through the airlock and down to the small canteen. 

Spider had wanted to argue, but decided it wasn’t worth it. He had his protein bar, but would be able to eat it more easily inside the ship, so he went along with it. He hoped Quaritch wasn’t expecting him to eat a whole ass cooked breakfast, like he seemingly had yesterday. Anxiety pooled in his stomach and clawed the back of his throat when he remembered Quaritch’s words: You will eat enough or I will make you. He knew - or at least prayed - that this was an empty threat. Quaritch wouldn’t force Spider to eat; in any case how could he? 

He unwrapped the protein bar as loudly as possible, and made sure to make a big spectacle of finishing it off. 

Luckily, this seemed to satisfy Quaritch, for he made no comment about Spider’s breakfast. When the rest of the squad had all finished, the colonel led them back out to deck to brief them for the day. 

“The village we’re hitting up today is on the Southern edge of the atoll .” Quaritch announced as Savine hopped up to sit on the railings, and Mansk slung his AR around to clean. 

Spider stalked over to lean on the railings next to Savine, scanning the horizon for signs of land. 

“Same plan of action as before. We go in, we grill, we exit. Minimal casualties, maximum impact. Same MO.”

“Think Sully’s gonna be there?” Fike asked.

“Unlikely. But the more villages we strike, the higher the chance somebody’s gonna crack.”

“We’re not just looking for Sully,” Wainfleet interjected. “We’re looking for weapons, comms, any kind of tech. Anything to indicate Sully’s passed through.”

There , in the distance - a faint outline of the now familiar reef structures that protect the shoreline. 

“Scoresby’s bringing us in, we make landfall in 20 minutes. Get ready.”

Spider’s heart thumped powerfully against his ribcage as the recoms scattered to prepare their weaponry. As Savine armed herself, Spider counted three knives strapped across her legs and belt, two pistols, her assault rifle, and a stun gun attached to her hip. 

Minimal casualties, yeah right . 

No one paid him much attention as they climbed up to the roof of the bridge to where the ikran landed. They mounted the animals and Mansk was the first to take flight. 

“Circle round,” Quaritch warned. “Sec-Ops haven’t secured the indigenous yet, they could open fire.”

Mansk soared past them as they took off, grinning - something Spider rarely saw unless he was with Savine. Quaritch brought Cupcake around the boat a few times until Scoresby’s confirmation sounded in their ear.

“Blue Team, you are good to go,” the voice informed them. 

Spider gripped tighter onto Cupcake’s rough tendrils as she banked hard towards the shore. His breath caught in his throat and adrenaline pumped through his veins as the tiny figures of Na’vi were thrown to the ground below them by humans in skel-suits. 

He was used to the brutality of it by now, but the fear he felt for the clans never subsided. He supposed it was his punishment for going along with it all. 

Smoke was already rising from the shelters when Cupcake swooped down over the village, soaring a couple of circuits before touching down on the sand. As usual, the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik had been targeted and were bound, waiting for them near one of the shelters. Tears streamed down the Tsahik’s face as they approached.

“<Please, leave us alone, we haven’t done anything!>”

Spider made to move towards her, but Quaritch’s hand on the nape of his neck held him back. 

The Colonel pulled his assault rifle around, aiming it directly at the line of bound Na'vi 20 feet away. He fired a warning shot into the sand in front of them, barely missing a young warrior who looked to be about the same age as Neteyam. The memory of Neteyam momentarily brought Spider’s attention away from the firing line, so he didn’t immediately process the cries of the villagers as they waited to see what the humans wanted. 

Quaritch brought up the image of Jake again on his tablet. He shouted his name at the clan leaders, in English and Na’vi, making it crystal clear for everyone listening who he was talking about. 

“<Where is he?>” Quaritch demanded, grabbing the Olo’eyktan by his queue. 

The man yelled in pain. “<I don’t know! We haven’t seen him! He is not here! Please, you must leave us!>

Quaritch looked at Spider, though Spider could tell he already knew what half the words meant. 

“They don’t know where he is, they haven’t seen him!”

“Ask them if he, or any Sully has passed through these waters, ever .”

Spider took a breath before doing what he was told. “<They want to know if Jake Sully ever came through here…>” Spider took another deep breath before the next part, praying to Eywa for forgiveness. “<Or any other son of Sully or Tskaha Mo'at'ite.>”

He wanted to close his eyes and run away, despising himself for asking the question, bitterness bubbling away inside like a guilty ocean of pain. 

Quaritch watched on.

“ Kehe! Kehe! ” The Tsahik’s eyes were deep, a cavern filled completely with fear. “<We have never seen any Omatikaya, we are Ta’unui, no forest clan has come here, not since the time of Great Sorrow!>”

“ Mawey, frawzo, frawzo …” He turned to Quaritch. “The last time they saw Omatikaya was years ago!”

Quaritch turned to the clan leaders. “Last chance,” he declared, raising his rifle. 

Spider knew what he was going to do before he did it. “No!” he shouted, shoving Quaritch’s outstretched arm, and the rifle went off into the sand, missing the line of prisoners, who all screamed and tried desperately to shuffle back on their knees away from the line of bullets. 

Quaritch released the trigger as soon as his aim had missed, shoving Spider down to the floor, hard. He landed on his side, rolling over from the force of the blow, but he was only down for seconds before scrambling back up again. He couldn’t watch Quaritch fire at more innocents.

“<Tell them what you know!>” he begged the Olo’eyktan, “<they’ll destroy everything…>”

“<We know nothing!>” shouted the leader, tears pooling in his own eyes. 

Quaritch had watched the exchange with his eyes narrowed, expecting Spider to translate immediately. 

Spider faced the man, wearing an expression he hoped to never repeat in his life. He could tell Quaritch didn’t need him to repeat the words. His eyes wide, tear streaks marking his face, he stared back at Quaritch, and the plea carried across the air between them like a poison. 

No child should ever look at their father like that. 

Quaritch’s mouth tightened, and he signalled to the recom squad to follow him down the shoreline. The wails of the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik followed them. Instead of returning to the ikran, they headed towards a community space further down the village where assembled military personnel were waiting. Spider wanted to stay behind, but the crackle of Savine’s stun gun spurred him on. 

Na’vi were bound and scattered on the ground all the way down the beach. Fire blazed along the shoreline and the smell of burning canvas filled Spider’s mask.  

Quaritch and Wainfleet strode over to talk to the commander of the Sec-Ops unit, who Spider didn’t recognise, but was wearing a skel-suit.

“Well this shit ain’t working,” Quaritch sounded disappointed, but not bitterly so. 

“Nah, it’s useless,” Wainfleet muttered back, both men trying to formulate next steps. 

“If we turn up the heat he’ll just keep running. We gotta draw him out.”

“May I suggest a more targeted approach?” The military commander suggested. 

Screams still filled the area. 

“What you thinking boss?"

“All units move out,” Quaritch told the commander, before signalling to Project Phoenix to return to the ikran. 

Well that had been quick at least . Spider let out a huge sigh of relief as he gathered himself together. He raised a shaking hand to adjust the fit of his mask on his neck. 

What did a more ‘targeted approach’ mean? What was Quaritch’s plan now? Spider shuddered to think, but anything was better than this. He could hear the trigger-happy recoms grumbling behind him at yet another wasted opportunity to engage in combat, but Quaritch reassured them that they’d get their chance to fight eventually. 

Spider clutched on tight to Cupcake once more as they circled around the burning village, praying that wherever the Sullys were, they were hidden beyond the reach of all things, even sunlight - for Spider knew that Quaritch would hunt them to the ends of the planet. That this wasn’t the end. It was simply the beginning.

[griseldabanks]

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Requested by @katarena

Fandom: MCU Characters: Steve and Sam Prompt: "Don't EVER scare me like that again!"

When the rainy season came to Wakanda, it hit hard and fast. One minute, Bucky eyed the clouds gathering on the horizon and said they needed to get the goats to their shelter. The next thing Sam knew, they were running through rain that pelted them like a thousand tiny daggers, the wind driving right into their faces as they hustled towards the goats' enclosure.

The sky tore in half with a blinding streak of light, and Sam could feel the very ground under his feet trembling in the rumble of thunder that followed. Sam's heart skipped a beat, and all of his senses came alive at once.

Under fire.

Assess danger.

Recover casualties.

Find shelter.

Heart rate ramping up, Sam vaulted over the fence, trailing behind Steve and Bucky, who had sprinted ahead of him. Lightning flashed, thunder boomed, rain lashed against him from every direction at once, but Sam felt calm. He was made for days like this.

The three of them herded the frightened animals toward their shelter, a small cave in the cliff that rose above the meadow. Sam mimicked Bucky's calls as best as he could, adding in a few of his own words of encouragement as he waved his arms at the herd, occasionally heading off a goat that tried to bolt away from the rest.

Finally, they reached the cave and the goats trotted into its welcome shelter. Bucky stood by the gate, counting them as they passed him. As Sam herded the last few towards him, Bucky looked up grimly. “We're missing one.”

As if on cue, a plaintive maa sounded behind them. Sam turned to find Steve walking towards them, carrying one of the smaller goats in his arms. “Got it!” he called. “I think its leg is hurt—“

The world went white. The very air split in two with the loudest thunderclap Sam had ever heard. He stumbled backward, losing his balance on the slick grass and falling into a mud puddle.

Sitting up again and blinking to clear his vision, it took Sam a moment to realize what he was looking at.

A brown lump of fur lying several feet away, not moving.

Steve, flat on the ground. Not moving.

Sam scrambled to his feet, even as Bucky charged over to Steve's side. They each grabbed one of Steve's arms and hauled him into the shelter of the cave mouth. Another deafening thunderclap echoed around the cave as they laid him down on the ground.

Tendrils of smoke or steam curled up from Steve's body in several places, his shoes little more than blackened scraps and his hair standing on end. His eyes were closed. His chest wasn't moving. Sam couldn't find a pulse.

With a curse, Sam barked out, “Help me get his shirt open.”

Face pale as death, Bucky reached out with his one hand and yanked Steve's shirt right off his body. The dog tags Steve always wore around his neck were hot to the touch and gave Sam a shock of static as he hastily pulled them off. They'd left a shiny red burn mark on Steve's chest. Right over the heart.

Clasping his hands together, Sam knelt at Steve's side and started chest compressions. “Bucky—breathe for him.”

“What?”

Sam glanced up. Bucky's eyes were wide with terror, staring at Steve as if paralyzed. But they had no time for fear. Not when Steve's life was in their hands.

“Listen to me,” he said, crisp and clear. “I need you to open his mouth, hold his nose closed, and breathe into his mouth when I tell you. Can you do that?”

With a start, Bucky snapped out of his trance, nodding quickly and doing as he was told.

The minutes inched by slowly, but each one that passed only made Sam more desperate than ever. This wasn't supposed to happen. He'd been in this position far too many times, but never with Steve. Steve was...indestructible. Nothing short of the Winter Soldier should have been able to bring him down. And the Winter Soldier was breathing directly into his lungs.

Come on, Steve, don't do this. Don't you dare. He needs you too much. I need you too much.

Thunder crashed overhead. Steve's eyes popped open as he let out a horrible, wonderful retching cough. Sam hastily rolled Steve onto his side as he vomited onto the ground.

“Steve!” As soon as Steve was finished, Bucky wiped off his face with the end of the cloth he wore over his left shoulder. Anyone who had seen Bucky in combat would be astounded to see how gentle his movements were as he helped Sam shift Steve to a more comfortable position, bundling his ruined shirt under his head as a pillow.

With a groan, Steve passed a hand over his eyes. “Did I...pass out?”

“You got struck by lightning, you idiot!” Bucky snapped, grabbing Steve's hand and pressing it against his forehead, knuckles white.

Now that the danger was past, Sam could feel the adrenaline subsiding again, leaving him feeling shaky and queasy. He slumped back against the wall of the cave opposite from Steve and Bucky, suddenly tired down to his bones.

The next flash of lightning made Sam jump, though he tried to pass it off as merely shifting his position. “Don't ever scare me like that again,” he said. “You're not allowed to die. Not on my watch.”

He was shivering so hard he had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering. He wasn't sure if it was because he was soaked to the skin, because of the adrenaline, or because of the thunder. Maybe all three at once. This rotten day had turned into a complete nightmare.

Sam let his eyes slide closed. They should call for help as soon as the storm passed—maybe with one of those bead things, if Bucky had one. Steve needed to get checked over in a hospital. He might be a supersoldier, but being hit by lightning was no joke.

Another roll of thunder, and Sam's heart seized. A bright flash. Steve on the ground. As if felled by a single bullet, plummeting through the air, ripped away from him forever as he crashed to the ground—

“Sam. Sam!”

He cracked his eyes open again, and found both Steve and Bucky watching him. He got the sense that they'd been calling to him several times already.

Steve beckoned to him from where he lay, head pillowed in Bucky's lap. “Come on, Sam, get over here.”

Sam didn't even try to stand. He crawled over and stretched out as well, resting his head on Steve's warm stomach. It moved steadily with every breath Steve took. And even though the ground was hard and rocky, Sam found he could breathe easier too.

Steve put a hand on Sam's shoulder. “Thank you, Sam. You saved my life.”

“Yeah.” Sam's instinct was to make some sort of quip, something to lighten the mood. But the words evaporated on the way to his mouth, and all he could do was grasp Steve's hand in his, tightly enough that he could feel the life pulsing through Steve's veins.

Still here.

[daryfromthefuture]

“Safety” for Mixed Bag One-Word Prompts!

thank you for the request! as per your wish, i shall do doc (and some marty) for this one :)

"Another day, another downpour." Emmett commented as he adjusted his goggles and took another look at the repair instructions his older self had left him in the mine. The schematics appeared more complicated on the paper than they actually were. Or maybe he simply perceived it that way - those drawings did come from himself, after all.

Marty, who was sitting on the workbench, sighed as he watched the raindrops race each other down the little window. "Yeah. It's getting boring, watching the gray sky every day."

Doc lay aside his screwdriver and wiped some sweat and dirt from his brow. All this mechanical work, though easy, still was a bit of a challenge - Emmett was more of a theoretical guy; he loved to think about science and sketch plans and schemes. God knows how many unused blueprints he had piling up in his drawers.

Well, he'd have to construct the DeLorean in the next 30 years anyway. Might as well prepare himself.

"At least the work isn't all too difficult," Doc said with a smile, taking a proper look at Marty now that he could afford to take a break from building the contraption that was meant to replace the fried time circuits.

Marty just gave him a thumbs-up. "You're the doc, Doc."

The scientist had to laugh. "I guess I am, huh?"

He cleaned his oily hands with his lab coat and sat down next to the boy. The duo stared into the distance for a moment, the roar of the thunder outiside well audible due to the brief silence.

"Are you hungry? I apologize, I got so caught up in fixing the car that I forgot about lunch," Doc asked, beraking the quietness.

But Marty shook his head. "Nah, don't worry about it. I'm not hungry. Can't say that about Copernicus, though." A small grin appeared on Marty's face as the mention of Copernicus' name caused the dog to whine from the other end of the room.

"Oh, thank you for reminding me." Doc got up and went to a shelf where he stored some dog food - in case he didn't have the time to go up to the house and feed his pet during his work. He opened a can and poured it into the small dog bowl right beneath the shelf. Copernicus wasted no second in throwing himself at the food.

Emmett smiled. "For such a small dog, you sure are hungry." He pat his dog on the back before making his way to Marty, who was now once again staring outside, his head in his hands.

"You had quite a bit going on lately, haven't you?", Emmett asked with sympathy in his voice. He had have no idea that he had the ability to be this gentle with someone, let alone a frightened child.

He had always seen himself as rather unable to comfort others.

But with Marty, it seemed to work just fine.

"Yeah, it's- I won't get into the details, but some shit happened and- well, you're stuck in 1885 now - as you know," Marty said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

Doc hesitantly raised a hand to place on Marty's shoulder. He gave it a friendly squeeze. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll get this sorted out. We'll get this sorted out."

Marty chuckled. "I don't have any doubt about that. I trust you."

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and a wind howled through a tilted window in the back of the lab.

"Whoop! I didn't know that was open!" The inventor hurried across the room and quickly shut the window.

Marty followed Doc with his eyes and relaxed a little. This all seemed very familiar to him. Sometimes, these moments even made him forget that he was in 1955. Doc was Doc, and this was Doc's lab - a place he knew was one where he'd never be harmed - in whatever decade.

Not even a minute later, Emmett was back at the teenager's side. His hand moved back to sit on Marty's shoulder, well aware that Marty appreciated the gesture.

"Alright, how about I make us some nice, warm tea, and then we can resume our work after we've taken a short break?", Doc suggested.

Marty took in the atmosphere. The cold November storm outside, from which the lab shielded him. Doc, always the guiding presence, caring about him even though he'd only known him for a week. Copernicus curled up on the floor, making a happy expression in his sleep.

In a way, this was home.

Marty looked up at Doc. "You know what? I'd like that."

[archester-creations]

Rated: G

Pairing: Simon Petrikov/Thunder Prince (oc)

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: @whumptober day three prompt 'journal', brief suicidal thoughts

I met a strange man today. He doesn't look human, but I don't either anymore. More and more, I'm not even sure if I will remain human for much longer. But if I am not human, what will I be? The witches and wizards I've studied always seemed human after a certain point, but was that true or was that just christianization efforts and the changing of times? Will I become like the Norse gods of old, something inhuman that later scholars may morph into a human skin?

The strange man calls himself Lightning and I'm not sure if that is his true name or a joke about his appearance, as he looks like he has been struck by lightning multiple times. There are no lichtenberg scars that I can see poking out from his shirt or the jeans he wears, but his light hair poofs with frizz even in the braid he contains it in and when he shook my hand I felt a strong jolt of electricity that surprised me. It reminded me of storm watching from when I was younger. It smells like ozone around him. I do not think he is human. I wonder if he is one of those Norse gods, or perhaps a god from another region, if any of them truly exist. His ears are pierced, and he wears lightning bolts in the holes.

— — — —

I caught my appearance in a broken shop window today. I've been avoiding them, so it's been some time since I've seen what I look like, but I look older than I did the last time. If anyone saw us together, they would assume I am his father, despite us being the same age. He assures me we're about the same age, though he looks two decades my junior. The way he talks sometimes is the main reason I believe him. Though he wouldn't gain anything from lying. Unless he thinks I would be more inclined to trust someone more my age.

I'm not sure if that would actually change if I would trust a person. Do I trust anyone? Do I trust everyone? I think I trust Lightning. I feel like I do.

I feel like I'm supposed to.

— — — —

I had to wear it again today. The time between putting it on and taking it off is blank for longer than before. Lightning was still there when I returned from the Ice King. He didn't seem frightened. He didn't even seem shocked.

I think the crown likes him. That worries me, though what worries me more is that it doesn't make me want to leave him behind. Just who is my strange companion?

— — — —

The monsters are getting worse, and with them the need to wear the crown. I wonder if the earth will ever be free of these creatures. I do not hope to still be me if that time ever comes. Is it bad if sometimes I think letting the monsters get me would be better than falling completely into my madness? I think either option would only end with eternal darkness and my own death.

My companion does not look strong enough to fend off the monsters by himself. I stay.

— — — —

Dear diary, I think I'm being followed by a hot prince. He has hair like lightning, even if he wears it in a braid. A few times I’ve actually caught arcs or light coming off it! They’re why I noticed him behind me. His eyes are very bright. If he’s following me, does that mean he likes me? I hope it does. He’s kinda hunky for a twig. Plus, he seems nice. He smiled at me. :)

— — — —

I do not remember making the last entry. I am suddenly reminded of Robert Lewis Stevenson's Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I hope my Hyde is less inclined to violence than the Dr's was.

I hope my story ends better than theirs did, if it even has an ending. My researched showed that the crown gave some form of immortality. But it is surely an imperfect immortality. If it wasn't, I am sure I would not have found the crown. Or if I had, it would've been on the head of a madman.

The way my Hyde describes our companion makes me certain he is not human. I do not know why he travels with me. I won't force him to stop. Maybe I shouldn't, but I appreciate the company. I think I need it more now than ever. I hope the crown really does like him, and it does not drive him away like it did Betty.

— — — —

Dear diary, my stalker is still there. Now I’m sure he likes me! It makes me happy, though I’m not entirely sure why. Is this love? He told me his name is Lightning, and his eyes sparked when he did.

— — — —

Damn my Hyde! He is supposed to stay with the crown, but now his madness encroaches even my waking moments, for the moments wearing the crown felt like sleep and the moments without I felt awake, but now the crown's memories feel like the impressions of a dream. It feels like I am drowning. The water presses on my lungs even now.

— — — —

My days are getting shorter. Even now, as I look over at my companion, his hair is no longer the almost white I’d grown used to, but a light blue that looks much closer to what the Ice King must have seen when he called it lightning. I am now sure that Lightning is not a pun, but simply a statement of what he is. I am not sure if it is his true name. Maybe he just likes the name humans have given him. Maybe it was a warning. I am sure he is not human. If he is a god, I wonder why he’s taken human form and decided to follow me. I do not ask. I don’t want to make him stop.

If he finds out I know, will he stop? Was introducing himself as Lightning a joke for himself, or the notes of a desire for me to find the truth?

— — — —

Dear diary, my ice likes him. :) I don’t think it’s more powerful near him, but it jumps to attention when he’s close. It made a flower for him without me even thinking about it. He smiled when I gave it to him, and my chest felt warm. I didn’t know my chest could feel warm. It was nice.

— — — —

Dear diary, sometimes my vision goes weird when I look at my stalker. He has earrings, but they don’t always look like earrings. I can’t tell if they’re metal or magic. Sometimes they look silver. And sometimes they glow white. I think he has magic like I do. I didn’t know there was anyone else like me. I wonder if he is also trapped in madness?

— — — —

Lightning, if you ever read this, please find Marcy and tell her that I am sorry. I am certain that you could do it.

Thank you for staying with me.

— — — —

Dear diary,

Lightning Prince <3 Lightning Prince <3 Lightning Prince <3

— — — —

Dear diary, he saved me today. I didn’t notice the creatures until it was too late, but he did. He used his magic to kill them with lightning. It was loud and bright, and he was beautiful in the midst of that light, his hair glowing with the electricity. I think I might be in love.

— — — —

Dear diary, I haven’t seen any creatures lately. I think they might be all gone, so I’m making a kingdom for us! It’ll be our own little ice kingdom, our own slice of earth. Maybe I’ll even find us some penguins to rule over. And polar bears. Though I’m not sure if there are any of either around where we are. Or if they’re even still alive.

Lightning will love the kingdom, I’m sure. :) The unbroken snow on the ground is already pretty. It sparkles like his eyes sometimes do.

— — — —

 Dear diary, the handsome prince has run away. I don't know why, but I caught him reading you so I think it must be something in your pages. If whatever you said caused him to run, I don't think I want your memories. They must be pretty scary. I'm burying you now. Good bye, diary.

Love, Ice King

[fivedollarfred]

Thunder bolts and lightning

Very, very frightening 

Gotta love them late summer storms :D

[authoresswillowraine]

Bless Your Heart

[TW: Explicit language, gun usage, blood, death]

The night was pitch black and the smell of fresh death hung in the air. It enveloped me and permeated my senses to the point of being damn near overwhelming. The velvety copper scent was so thick I could all but taste it on my tongue. My mouth watered more with each forward step.

Blood. A lot of fucking blood.

If I had a pulse, it would’ve quickened. My long still heart wanted to pound inside my chest. It was like a wild thing clamoring to break free from its cage made of bone and flesh. Good thing it wasn’t possible.

A warm breeze danced over my cool skin, and whipped my long, thick black hair around my face. The faint sound of thunder roared from a few miles away. The storm was headed for me, not that I was frightened to be out in it. Storms energized supernatural beings and I was no exception. I relished the feeling of the electricity that played upon the wind. I knew it was getting closer with each passing second until it was right above me. A deafening ‘CRACK’ brought me up short, and I shot bolt right up in my bed.

Whoever says vampires ‘die’ at daybreak and that we don’t sleep, nor dream was either lying or believed everything fiction said about us. I slept – even snored and I dreamt in vivid details. Usually, it took me several long minutes to fully come back to reality upon waking.

The storm, however, was very real and had worked itself into my subconscious to play in my dream. The lightning was fierce and flashed brightly in my pale gray eyes. It broke through my new “guaranteed” blackout curtains – which I made a mental note of. That could be a safety issue if the sunlight ever shone through them for lesser or younger vampires. Sunlight didn’t kill even the youngest among us, but it was uncomfortable and at times, painful. It could cause hives or burns in younger vampires or weaker ones. For older, Master vampires like me it was little more than an annoyance. I didn’t enjoy the sunlight, but it wasn’t detrimental to my health in any way. Sunshades were all I required to combat the discomfort. But I hated the heat and didn’t feel much more kind about the cold. I preferred Fall.

‘Fuck.’ I thought, still salivating from the copious amounts of blood in my dream. The craving motivated me to get out of bed and do something about it before it got to be overbearing. I checked the clock on my phone: 3:21 A.M. I had gotten two whole hours of sleep before I was jolted awake. Once I was awake I played hell at going back to sleep, so it was going to be a long day for me.

My bare feet shuffled across the luxurious carpet on my bedroom floor before they hit the warming tiles of the hall that led into my kitchen. Most of the flooring throughout my home was heated. Except for the bedrooms which were all thick, lavish carpeting that matched the rest of the décor in them.

I kept emergency blood in my fridge from willing donors, which after a little heating up, would work. I preferred to feed from a living being, but I wasn’t one to call and request it at this hour. Unlike some Master Vampires, I also didn’t keep a house of willing ‘feedees’ at my beck and call. My modest home – at least from the outside- was my oasis. My sanctuary. I seldom let anyone gain entry, and those that did were trusted confidants. There were very few humans who’d had access to my home, and none who had been there by anything other than free will. I didn’t like to use my vampire powers to feed or get laid. It wasn’t my thing, because it was rape, no two ways about it. It didn’t matter if I was taking blood or having sex, consent was a requirement, not an option. I didn’t bring home ‘just anyone.' If I did that may require compulsion at the very least and wiping their memories after they left me at worst. Both of which would be rape in that scenario. No, I had willing sources and lovers, but I wasn’t up to either this night.

The best device I had found to warm the refrigerated blood was a baby bottle warmer. Don’t laugh, it worked. I could heat it to whatever temperature was my preference without scalding my mouth. You only heat the blood too long in the microwave once before learning your lesson. Blood scalds and because it’s so thick it burns far more than an instant. Luckily I healed almost immediately but it doesn’t mean I didn’t feel the pain.

As I waited for my blood to reach the perfect temperature I mulled over the dream I couldn’t shake. I had a few witches I could call upon to decipher the dream. Villia, my favorite of them all, would tell me that my instincts about what the dream meant would be more accurate than anything she could tell me. I liked any advice that told me to trust myself. After all, I had kept myself 'alive' for over four hundred years, so I couldn’t be too awful at this gut instinct thing.

I had a nagging feeling that the dream was a premonition of something bad. That dark times were ahead. Of course, I hoped like hell I was wrong, but until it happened there was no way for me to prepare. I just had to wait and see. Premonitions were the least reliable of my skillset. That sucked because it seemed like it could be one of the most useful powers if I could harness it better.

I made a mental note to ask Villia about premonition. She’d be able to help me sharpen my ability or have an idea of who could assist in that area. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t asked her before now. Another myth about us, not so mythical creatures? We were reborn with all the cool powers, like superheroes, but painted like villains.

The truth was, we came over with anything from zero extrasensory gifts, to several but not all. There were ways we could gain extra powers, and none in a pleasant manner. To enjoy gaining power, one had to find their true pairing. Doing that was about as likely as finding a hay-colored needle in a haystack. Chances are slim to none, that is.

Blood ingested; my mind no longer raced. I grabbed my remote and clicked on the television to keep me company. Once upon a time, I’d fallen into the couch potato trap. That phase had caused a bout of depression that I thought was going to put an end to my long existence. I had no idea how people made it their go-to for entertainment.

I had every channel and streaming service, yet only watched enough television so I could carry on a conversation. I avoided mainstream media like the plagues I had gotten through unscathed. If you know, you know. Instead, I kept up on news from independent and reliable sources – contacts on the inside. I knew World leaders, politicians, and their right hands. I knew military members, indie reporters, and had those types of connections. It was far more reliable and way less sensational.

The television now offered a soft glow and soothing murmuring of a random infomercial so that I no longer sat in complete silence. This was the only time I felt the deep loneliness settle into my bones. The stillness of the night and early morning hours when I only had myself to keep me company. These are the hours when I’d love to be able to wrap my arms around someone. When I wanted to experience what some of those closest to me had explained with goofy smiles on their faces. A sense of peace, of wonder, that they had found another being who added to their happiness. Unconditional love for those of them lucky enough to have it. Those relationships seemed to be rare among everyone I knew, however. We lived in what the younger generations referred to as a hookup culture. Sex had become God; love was far down the list. I understood it, somewhat. As much as I craved someone when the loneliness crept in, I had fought hard not to have anything substantial. Sex was easy, and a need. Love was something that made you weak if you allowed it. I couldn’t afford to be weak. I had too many people depending on me for their entire existence. I would not risk anyone else, let alone everyone else to abate my passing bouts of loneliness.

My eyelids drooped and I let my head fall back against the back of my bright white, overstuffed couch. I was miraculously about to doze off when a feeling washed over me. It was a warning. Someone was around the perimeter of my home, and they weren’t familiar. They wanted something, and it had to be something pressing to bring them out in an electrical storm. I was up, gun in the waistband of my pajama bottoms before they had a chance to knock on my door.

Country, gun-toting, mamaw loving, dad-bod having Vampires? Hell yes! I've got you covered. First 3 episodes will be FREE on Vella. Subscribe to see where Giddeon goes, and how well an almost 7 ft tall, country boy vampire fits in.

[cosmictempestt]

thunder bolts and lightning very very frightening

[apathy-driven]

thunder bolts and lightning very very frightening

do u have a vibrator in ur pants or is ur penis just so scared

[riemmetric]

Clara, afraid of shadows | WIP Excerpt

WIP: Rain on empty shells (working title)

I'm still brainstorming the plot and the pace of this novel. In the meantime, I'm writing copious amounts of emotional hurt/comfort scenes between the main characters. For no other reason than I want to. Clara and Christopher are childhood friends turned lovers, experiencing some horrors together. A very self indulgent scene.

The sky above Christopher’s house was tearing itself apart; rain oozed from the clouds’ open wounds. Clara shuddered alone in his bed, caught in the throes of a nightmare. The thunder followed her in her dreams, seeping through the border between realities. In the dream, she was covered in slick moss, fine but sturdy roots anchoring her to the ground. Her flesh was bloated and straining under the skin, oversaturated with rainwater. She was alone in an open field, hidden by plants and darkness, while the lightning bolts were gathering power in their empire of sky, searching for a soft body to strike.

Thunder roared through the skies of Brasov, pulling Clara out of the nightmare. She woke with a start and stared at an empty room. Her pulse was racing. For a terrifying moment, she couldn’t understand where she was. Lightning struck again, illuminating the contour of Christopher’s bedroom.

“Ok, ok,” she muttered to herself, while she covered her ears and waited for the thunder to pass.

All the interior doors in Christopher’s house were open. Clara appreciated that; neither of them liked closed spaces. The main corridor, which linked all the rooms in the house, was painted in an eerie pattern of lights and shadows. The kitchen faced the street – its windows let in streaks of orange from the streetlamps. The living room and the bathroom were both dark. Christopher worked in his little study – his desk lamp leaked warm light. Clara could hear him typing on his computer.

Another flash of lightning. A shadow ran through the corridor.

Clara sat up in bed, blinking. If only the cursed rain stopped for a second, so she could gather her thoughts. Lightning hit the neighbor’s house and in the white light that flooded the bedroom she saw a dark figure standing in the doorway. She stopped breathing. The thunder crashed above her head, making her jump. A moment later, the room was back to its initial level of emptiness. She got out of bed and tiptoed towards the doorframe. Christopher was typing serenely in his study. The rain tapped against the rooftop.

Someone was breathing down her neck.

She turned around with a strangled yelp. There was no one behind her. Pain struck her heart and made her run into the study.

Christopher was staring at his computer’s screen, blue hues reflected in his glasses. The desk lamp drew a cocoon of yellow light around him. He was wearing headphones and didn’t notice Clara come in. She leant against the doorframe, collecting herself. It wasn’t too late to go back. She felt like a child scared by her own vivid imagination, about to bother her busy parents. The image disgusted her. Behind her, the house was empty and dark. Except she wasn’t sure about that, couldn’t be sure.

“Christopher?”

He looked up.

“Hey! What’s up? You can’t sleep?”

He was smiling, his soft features bathed in light. Clara clasped her fingers at the back of her neck.

“Not really, no. Had a stupid nightmare.”

“Ow. Do you want to talk about it?”

Clara turned her head towards the corridor. Lightning struck again and the various objects populating it momentarily showed their colors. There were no demons, no ghosts lurking in the shadows. She hadn’t answered Christopher’s question; he got up from his desk and closed went over to her.

“Hey,” he said, stroking her arm.

Clara flinched. Concern showed up on Christopher’s face. He gently took her by the shoulders and guided her away from the door. In the light of the study, Clara looked frightened. Christopher rubbed her arms.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

Clara slumped against his chest.

“I hate this,” she said as Christopher put his arms around her. “I saw something in the room. I saw shadow figures, as Cristina calls them.”

She could hear Christopher’s heart pick up its pace.

“In the bedroom?”

“In the corridor, at first. Then in the bedroom. I thought there was one behind me.”

“Do you want me to check it out?”

Like the parent of a child who doesn’t know fact from fiction. Except she could hear Christopher’s heart beating fast. She knew he had seen something in the woods the last time he was there with David. They both listened to Cristina talking about the paranormal world.

“If you don’t mind.”

Christopher kissed the top of her head. “Of course not.”

When he let her go, Clara regretted saying anything. She would have preferred him to simply hold her for the rest of the night.

Christopher turned on all the lights in the house and diligently inspected every room, Clara following like a scared puppy. He looked under the bed and inside the closets, then stood in the middle of the bedroom with his arms crossed, daring something to manifest in front of hm.

“I don’t see anything strange,” he said.

“Do you think there might be something we don’t see?”

Christopher looked at her for a long time. She would have rather been called stupid.

“That’s always a possibility, I guess.”

Clara sighed. Then came another lightning – thunder succession and she felt herself on the verge of tears.

“God, I want this to stop! Can it stop for a second? I can’t hear myself thinking.”

She glanced at Christopher and saw him deep in thought. It wasn’t all inside her head, then. It was in his head as well.

“Can you come to bed?” she asked.

He hesitated. “Sorry,” he said eventually. “I have to finish the script by tomorrow. If David doesn’t do the voiceover tomorrow, we lose our appointment with the recording studio and the whole project gets delayed.”

Clara swallowed past the knot in her throat. “Ok. I get that.”

Christopher pulled the comforter and the pillows off the bed. “You don’t have to stay here alone, though. Come with me.”

The little couch he kept in his study could be made into a small double bed. It transformed the space into an extra guest room when needed. He got a clean sheet from the corridor closet and made the bed. Clara watched him, her eyes full of love.

“Here,” he said and reached out for Clara’s hand. She grabbed it and he guided her to sit down next to him on the makeshift bed. “I reckon I have a thousand more words to go, plus editing, so I’ll keep at it for at least another hour.”

“Thank you,” Clara said and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He embraced her and kissed her shoulder. She felt his lips curve into a smile at the base of her neck and squeezed her eyes shut, keeping away the tears.

“Hold me tighter,” she said.

Christopher obliged. “I’m here,” he said. “No matter what happens, I’m here. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Keep the light on, please.”

He kissed her good night and closed the door, then sat back at his computer. The rain tapping on every structure of the house, Christopher’s fingers tapping the keyboard. Clara bent her head down among the pillows and tried to think about nothing.

[bonabellbarry]

Thunder bolts of lightning very very frightening AAAAAAAAAAA