#( hey what if i ate one million sand and died )

[reddhaed]

“I need you so much closer.” ( from giselle! )

it had been sometime since she has been home, and even though her travels left sera a particular brand of exhausted she couldn't help herself, immediately going to giselle, wrapping her arms around her. delicately, soft. reserved for the light of her life, her partner. oh. something so divine. and giselle always held the truth for sera, her words made so much sense. surely, giselle needed her to be closer. and that was it. what sera needed. "oh mon amour-" it was difficult to see in the moment why the mere idea of leaving and running off to far away places would even cross sera's mind in the first place, she then frames giselle's face in her hand "-i've missed you dearly, i am the one who needs you much closer." it's meant to be teasing, but it feels a little too close to the truth. peppers chaste kisses along her cheeks, the corner of her lips. has her giggling, like it's a silly thing. it's not. it's everything. smiles against giselle lips. "you have to tell me everything that's happened." she says between kisses, before moving back slightly. a soft smile on her face. "-please? i have absolutely missed the sound of your voice...among other things."

@immobiliter

[comic-brew]

Anemos

Summary: Grief is like a toxin, invading your every pore and spreading like the plague, leaving behind nothing but a jade black painted husk. Hollowed out, resembling more of a dead shell than a man.

Notes: Another last minute @jaytemisweek2020 fic! I really am incorrigible. Song: Anemos by Katherine Duska and Leon of Athens. I'm sorry in advance

Reading time: 18 mins (2.2k words)

Warnings: dealing with grief, fake character death, angst angst angst

Or read here on ao3!

***

Hurried wind, blowing forth

"Hey, Princess... It's Jason."

The phone had already started recording, the whooshing sound of passing vehicles was simply a miserable undercurrent to his already bitter voice.

He looked around at the city's skyline. It seemed so familiar from his spot on the rooftop, yet the empty, discarded bottles of scotch in the far back reminded him just how bloody different everything was. How it would never be the same.

"Well uh.."

He trailed off, coughing dryly and staring at the seconds passing on the screen. He scrambled to find the right words. He had so much to say -too much- so he might as well end up saying nothing. It didn't matter anyway.

"It's Wednesday today. We… we had plans for this morning. We were gonna grab breakfast at that terrible diner that you somehow like so much. Shaw's."

He chuckled bitterly.

"I seriously don't know why you like that crap. I'd rather eat Dick's cooking than go there again, and that should be saying something. Although-"

His eyes glistened under the moonlight, tears fighting to be spilt out of their glacial blue. Jason tried to swallow back the lump in his throat. He had to do this.

"I would relieve Quraq all over again if it meant getting to be dragged there -or anywhere- by you again- I-"

His voice broke, bent like a flower's rachis crunched beneath a boot. Jason finally gave way to the tears, flowing in beads across his cheeks. He put the phone down for a second, to brush away the salty waterfalls.

Hurried wind, he whispered to me: 'stay

"You know what? This is stupid"

A small scoff evaded his lips. A little insane. Perhaps a bit more of a sniffle as his kevlar enhanced shoulders drooped even further down.

He sat back down on the cement. Plopped the phone down on the ground next to his helmet, his forehead burrowed in his hands. Perhaps to hide the pain, to keep it locked inside. Trying to hold the weight of his head so that his neck wouldn't have to. It felt so heavy. Everything was heavy and fuzzy, thick and inky like a bog eager to consume him.

There was no bog, of that he was sure. So.. that left only the gaping hole in his chest.

Yeah, that should be it.

Dark matter was devouring him, sucking him from the inside, to make up for the absence of a heart beneath his ribcage.

I'm becoming one with the wind now

Lifting his head up from his gloved palms, he rested his fingers on his chin. Limbs huddled closely together, in a small bundle of 6 foot tall boy. A small bundle screaming in despair, even without the air tingling at his vocal chords. His every cell was radiating anguish, Jason could almost reimagine the bleak stench of death encompassing his meager existence.

He drew in a deep shaky breath, shuddering at the sudden chill blowing against his body. He kept shivering even after the soft gust had dissipated.

Blow forth with the wind, a kiss piercing me like a bullet in the middle of the night

The sharp 'ping' indicating the halt in the recording was almost lost amidst the cacophony of horns and shouts rebounding from the city streets. Gotham highway was hazardous on normal days. Only a more terrible place for grieving souls, even above it and by the familiar coldness of a gargoyle made of stone.

Jason would push this all aside and bury the pain deep down, he really would. But he didn't- he didn't get to say goodbye. His eyes welled up once more as he gazed solemnly down at the passerbys, going about their lives while his felt almost frozen in time.

Seconds weren't ticking anymore when the clock on his phone was pointing at midnight all of a sudden. Tears had been closely followed by sobs as he gulped down the last drop of liquid numbness.

It didn't numb the pain nearly enough.

At the final hitch of his breath, Jaso let his feet dangle from the edge of the rooftop as he was picking up the bloody device with Artemis' name and smile displayed, captured for eternity in an almost mundane moment of joy that he recalled being so heavenly.

It was at the beach. He remembers the feel of sand and wet hair between his fingers, remembers the soft crashing of the cerulean waves and how those same waves felt against his bare skin, and how his skin felt encompassed in her warmth.

Take me far away from here, you're the only one dressing me in light amidst the darkness

Jason remembers the tender whispers of nothings that held more value than all the knowledge in the universe. Those everythings now were truly nothing, if not for sharpened blades slashing deep into his skin. The faint aftertaste of salty lips and a smile so lovely in his eyes it could outbrighten the midday sun, now simply reduced to the shine of a katana embedded in his chest.

Twisting.

God… Why does it hurt so much?

He started another recording. The words kept nagging at his brain, they needed to be let out lest they ate away chunks of his soul. His soul that had already been split in half, drowned out in the haziness of regret and guilt.

His hand shot up to wipe at the tears but they were already dried roads carved into his flesh.

Grief is like a toxin, invading your every pore and spreading like the plague, leaving behind nothing but a jade black painted husk. Hollowed out, resembling more of a dead shell than a man.

I'm becoming one with the wind now

"It's me again. One more and I'll let you rest" he paused. "I promise"

Taking a deep ragged breath, searching his mind for any and every final bit of strength and courage, he continued.

"I-I love you, princess. I love you so damn much"

He sighed.

"I should have said it sooner, but my fucking trust issues… I just- I just thought we had more time"

This time when his eyes flooded he let the tears flow freely. There was nobody there to see them, nobody there to ask.

Nobody

My dream, my secret, sink me deep into the wind

"And it fucking hurts that you're gone, you can't even begin to imagine just how much... I don't- I don't think that much pain is able to be measured. Every time I even think of you my heart is just.. shattered -no- shredded into a million pieces I know I'll never be able to put back together"

If he was gonna do this, he was gonna do it right. No holding back on his emotions, no use trying to conceal the aching claw impaling his heart, stopping it from thumping in the right rythm. Broken, every attempt at pulsing was as good as a heaving sob of loneliness.

Broken..

"A thing that breaks is never the same, huh?"

The words were said in a somewhat joking manner but his lips hadn't got the energy nor will to twitch into a smile. His muscles felt like marble, securely tight into place no matter how much his brain ordered them to unclench. The pain tugged at his soul, wanting to pull him down, down below and sink him right through the murky depths of its abyss, until pain was all he could sense.

>I want the pain in my eyes, the ashes, the fire

The pain was close- he was already starting to asphyxiate, he wasn't prepared to hold his breath when his head was pushed underwater.

"And Biz.. he misses you a lot too. He's obliterated, and that's putting it mildly"

His voice was rasped and broken when he next spoke, the ever growing lump had almost clogged his throat.

"Please come back"

It was merely a whisper, the exhale of his final breath of hope assuming a material from. The desperate last stand of a wildflower against the harsh cold of winter. Jason closed his eyes, shutting out the harpies' eerie songs reminding him that she's truly gone, drifted away with a wind that never quite got to caress his skin.

I'm not afraid, you're here now

Next thing Jason knew was he'd been yelling, shouting loudly for the words to beat the lump and the anxiety. The air rising up his throat clawed against his trachea but he didn't care as long as his feelings weren't lost with the breeze. Even if the person they were aimed at never got to receive them.

His passion finally died out, turned to ashes smoldering miserably beneath his scarred flesh. Who would know when he saw him, that the most painful of his scars was the one nobody could ever trace with the pads of their fingers.

I want to last another breath in the deep

The sorrow was starting to become unbearable as that wonderfully radiant smile disappeared from the screen, belonging to a different lifetime. One that ended when the spark of fire wavered in her emerald eyes, much alike the fainting last flame on the wick of a candle.

With frantic movements he fumbled to whip out his pack of cigars and lighter. He held them in front of his chest, staring holes in the nicotine filled package, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. Artemis never wanted him to smoke and continue ruining his lungs, she didn't want him to let the it slowly chip away at his health. He hadn't felt the mellow sensation of his worries evaporating and blending in with the smoke in months. She was all he had needed to feel whole.

I'm not afraid, you're here now

The guilt was drowned and lost beneath the pain as Jason placed the cigarette between his lips and set it aflame.

Artemis wasn't there anymore to care.

***

"Just- I know it's hopeless, but if it happened to me, then why do the people I love keep dying?"

Even the mechanical sound of the recording couldn't dim the pain that laced Jason's voice, bitter like a bird that broke its wings.

She let a stray sniffle escape her.

"First Roy, now y-you.. Is this some short of sick joke, universe?! Alright, Jason, you come back, so you can get attached to people and witness everything fall apart so you can feel it. Yeah, the irony wouldn't have worked if I hadn't died, right?!"

The pointy lines of the recording ascended, indicating the increase in volume. Still, there was no way to show the despair with which he clung to the rage.

She pushed back the tears.

"Oh, Arty…"

He was crying.

The tears fought harder to be freed, somehow proving to be even stronger than an Amazon.

I want to run, to leave, go to the open sea

"I have no fucking idea what I'm supposed to do!" the voice uttered. That deep timbre that could soothe and comfort her in a heartbeat was reaching her thorn studded, tying her insides in a knot.

She started weeping quietly. A duet for two broken hearts.

There was a big pause in the sound, yet the needle kept running to reach the end of the voicemail, she was beginning to fear that tinted in pure anguish would be his last word she'd cherish in her memory.

A snort interrupted her abrupt panic. She wiped at the tears as she let old memories be carved into her brain.

I want to touch the sun before I fade in the dark

"Look at me. I'm ranting in a voicemail meant for you. I must be fucking delusional but... I still- I still believe you'll hear all of this someday.."

Her chest heaved with increasing difficulty as the guilt gradually consumed her. He was mourning the loss of her, oblivious to the fact that her heart was still beating, and aching with every poisoned word.

He was going to hate her, but she preferred the man she loved to be able to loathe her, than to take this futile love to his grave.

I'm becoming one with the wind now

She would protect her little one, no matter the cost doing so already relayed upon her heart.

"Well I.." he begun, clearing his throat. "I guess this is goodbye" he said softly, cautiously, and the message ended with a pained 'I love you'.

Artemis murmured back a goodbye. Her breath caught on her throat, she had to exert herself to convince her lungs to draw another sharp intake of air.

She stared at Jason's contact before she'd have to dispose of her phone and everything that bound her to her previous life. She gave the picture of the man a tight lipped smile, tears running down her skin as she muttered an 'I'm sorry'.

I'm not afraid, you're here now

A finger hovered above a tear tainted delete button as wreaked sobs echoed throughout the dark room. The dark room where the shadows danced a walz of death and chaos, giggling under the starlight pouring in from the only window.

Someday.. Perhaps someday she could see her love again.

The finger came down and the shadows danced no more.

I'm becoming one with the wind.

[calpalirwin]

Endless Endings

Summary: Calum goes home for a funeral. He isn’t prepared for the feelings and memories that come with it.

A/N: I was watching This Is Us and Kevin and Sophie’s relationship gave me the feels (I will fix the formatting/add this to my masterlist in the morning, I just want to get this up cuz I’m excited!) Italics are flashbacks/memories

Content: Darker than my usual stuff

Word Count: 1.9K

And away, and away we go!

~~~

When he saw the caller ID, he was answering it before his ringtone could even kick in. “Zo? Hey, how’s everything?” Calum talked into the phone.

“Hey, Cal,” was the tearful reply.

“Zo, what happened?”

“She died, Cal. My mom. She’s gone.”

The phone clattered to the floor. Calum’s head felt like it was underwater, the worried voices of his bandmates sounding muddled as they tried to reach him. No. Claire Harper couldn’t be dead. Zoey!

His brain snapped back into enough focus for him up the phone, ignoring the jagged crack in the screen. “Hey, I got one for you,” his voice was telling her, his ears still ringing.

“What?” she asked, holding back the next sob.

“He starts an apple cider company. Calls it ‘How do you like them apples?’.”

Her laugh wasn’t the laugh he remembered. It was choked. “Thank you, Cal.”

“Anytime, Zo.”

The voices around him were still muddled as he hung up the phone. “Zo? Zoey Harper? From home? Cal, is she okay?”

“I gotta go home,” was all Calum replied with before walking out of the studio.

~~~

“Hey!” the girl scolded the boy and his stirred up cloud of sand from his jump off the swingset.

“Sorry!” the boy grinned, showing off a missing tooth.

“Watch it,” she continued to growl.

“I said I was sorry!” he told her, crossing his arms, his smile disappearing.

“Ooo!” another boy snickered. “Cal likes Zoey! Cal likes Zoey! Cal and Zoey, sitting in a tree!”

“Shut up!” they both shouted at the other boy before they looked at each other and shared a look of disgust complete with a “Yuck!” and fake gagging.

Calum smiled to himself as he stared out the plane window. It was amazing how easily the memories came back to him. A lifetime of him and Zoey Harper- his first, and only love.

~~~

“And now, Claire’s daughter would like to say a few words,” the pastor said and a young blonde in a sleek black dress moved to the podium.

Her striking green eyes were red around the edges as they scanned the room. A small smile curved on her lips when green met brown. “My mother and I didn’t always see eye to eye. Maybe that’s not something I should say at her funeral, but it’s the truth. She was reckless in everything she did. And as much as it drove me nuts, it also encouraged me to take my own risks. And, uh…” Zoey paused to collect her thoughts, and in the back, Calum let his run wild.

“Oh, Cal, that’s great!” Claire cheered, wrapping him tightly in a hug. “Isn’t that great, Zo? London! Wow!”

“Yeah, great,” Zoey forced a smile. She wanted to be happy for Calum and his band. But how could she when her boyfriend was dropping a bomb like dropping out of school and moving to fucking London?

“Zo,” both Calum and Claire said, frowning.

Zoey scraped her chair back, striding out of the room.

“Zo!” Calum called after her.

“I need a minute!” she yelled and the slamming door rattled the windows.

Calum sighed, letting her go, figuring he might as well start practicing now.

“Hey,” Claire said, reaching across the table to grip his hands in hers. “Don’t let the fear of what’s to come diminish the greatness of this moment, Cal. Allow yourself to be happy in the most unfiltered way. Shout your joy from the rooftops. You boys have worked hard. This is your moment. Never settle.”

“‘Great things happen when you chase after what you want.’ It was like her catchphrase. It’s what she told me when I finally moved to New York and got that dream apartment. She came to visit and we went out for coffee. This real small hole-in-the-wall place. We would always go when she came out or I would send her a bag of their home roast. I was actually… I was in that shop trying to buy a bag. I was giving the clerk hell for not having their home roast. Funny how quickly priorities change with a phone call. God, I owe that clerk an apology,” Zoey’s voice broke off in a small giggle. “I’m gonna miss you, Mom.”

~~~

The bell on the door jangled as he walked in the doughnut shop.

Calum’s laugh rang out around them as she swallowed her bite. “What?” she asked, self-consciously. “Do I have something on my face?”

He continued to snicker in his hand, “Geez, Zo, it’s everywhere!”

“Have you seen your own face?”

“What are you talking about? I do- Zo!” he gasped as her finger swiped the chocolate frosting off his doughnut and smeared it across his cheek.

“Hah!” she laughed at him. Then she was squealing as he rubbed his cheek against her face, creating a powdered sugar chocolatey mess, their giggles filling the small shop. “You’re crazy,” she told him, her cheeks pink with laughter.

“Crazy in love with you,” he replied, pecking her lips with his.

“And I’m just as crazy,” she smiled against his lips.

“What can I get for you, today, sir?” the teenager behind the counter asked.

“One powdered and one chocolate, please,” Calum said. “Actually, two chocolate, please,” he amended as his stomach growled.

~~~

She had a forced smile on her face as she was engaged in a conversation with someone, her eyes begging to be rescued. Calum leaned against the car, not wanting to go inside, feeling so out of place outside somewhere he once considered a home. He dug his phone out of his pocket, watching her as the line rang on his end. Her eyes glanced down at the phone in her own hand, her smile becoming a little more genuine as she answered. “Hey, Cal.” Her voice was heavy and Calum knew instantly that Zoey hadn’t been sleeping for God knows how long.

“Hey. So I was driving and I passed by that doughnut shop we used to frequent. And uh… well, I got one with your name on it. I’m out front.”

Her eyes glanced up and locked on him through the window. She put a hand over the speaker and excused herself from her conversation, walking out of Calum’s view. “Get me out of here,” her voice was saying and then she was in front of him, grabbing the doughnut back from him and sliding into the passenger seat.

~~~

“Hey, I got one for ya,” she said, breaking the silence as they ate their doughnuts, powdered sugar coating her mouth and dress.

“Shoot.”

“He goes to Alaska to become a fisherman in an isolated village and never talks to another soul.”

“Damn, that’s dark,” Calum giggled, handing her a napkin. “Seriously, do you even aim for your mouth when you eat?”

She giggled with him as she dusted off her lap. The giggle turned into a sigh. “I can’t believe you came. I feel like I’m underwater. Like my body is on auto-pilot, while my brain is a million miles away. Seeing you again, well, it grounded me. You’re the only one who gets it Cal. You’re the only one I can let my guard down with.”

“Isn’t that what your fiancé’s for?” he asked with a pointed glance to the ring on her finger.

“He didn’t know her like you did. And now he never will.” Her eyes stared out the window. “Oh, wow,” she breathed, realizing where they were. “I haven’t been here in forever.”

“Me neither,” he admitted, putting the car in park. “Every time I come home, I can never bring myself to come here. I had my best and worst night of my life here.”

“On the same fuckin night,” she recalled.

“On the same fuckin night,” he agreed.

Every summer the park held a Movies in the Park night, showing everything from old-time classics to current blockbusters. Neither of them had seen Good Will Hunting, but had always wanted to. So there they sat, curled up under a blanket and the stars, eyes glued to the large projector screen.

“Aw!” the audience let out a collective groan as the projector sputtered and the screen went black.

“Sorry about this folks! Please help yourself to the concession stand we have set up, free of charge, and we’ll try to get this up and running again shortly,” a volunteer announced.

Calum and Zoey turned to each other, sharing a grin. “Free snacks!” they shouted in each other’s faces before scrambling to snag free popcorn.

“Hmm, looks like they fixed it,” Calum said as they swung side by side. “Should we go back?”

“Nah,” Zoey replied with a shake of her head. “Where it stopped was actually perfect. No ending could be better than that.”

“We could make up our own,” Calum suggested.

“We could!” she exclaimed, loving the idea. “Promise me we’ll never watch the real ending.”

“Promise,” he swore.

So back and forth they went, creating their own endings, long after the real movie had ended and long after the popcorn disappeared. They would have stayed all night and into the morning had it not been for Mali striding towards them, tears running down her face.

“Mali?” Calum asked, his voice laced with worry as his sister looked about a millisecond away from a breakdown. “Mali, what’s wrong?!”

In the dim lighting from a nearby streetlamp, Zoey could see the darkening of his already dark eyes and the clench of his fists as worry gave way to anger that someone had hurt his sister. “Dad’s gone, Cal,” was the broken answer. “Him and Mum got in another fight and he’s… he’s gone!” With the confession off her lips, the older sibling collapsed into the younger one’s arms as they both began to sob over their parents’ broken marriage.

~~~

“Did you ever watch the ending?” she asked as they swung side by side.

Calum shook his head. “Nah. That was probably the only thing I ever did right.”

“Cal, don’t say that…”

“It’s the truth. I had everything that night and then I lost it all before sunrise.”

“Cal, you didn’t lose anything. Yes, your parents split and I know how hard that was for you. But you weren’t running away. You went off to London because you chased a dream. A dream that paid off rather fuckin’ well, by the way.”

“And you?”

“You didn’t lose me either Cal. We just weren’t meant to be.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love a girl the way I loved you…”

“Then love her differently. Love her better.”

“Are you happy? With the endings we created?”

“Are you?” she challenged, knowing he didn’t mean the movie.

He chuckled and pulled out his phone. “Wanna see the real ending?”

“Sure.”

They sat, side by side, the warm sun on their faces, and watched the ending of a movie they swore never to watch the ending of. And it was better than all the endings they could have ever imagined on their own. But still, they both felt a finality to it all, and when Calum dropped her off back home, he wondered if he was better off with his endless imagined endings than the real one.

~~~

Tag List

@goeatsomelife @flameraine @cashtonasff5sos @here-for-the-uproars @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @baldcalum @sparkling-chaos @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Of Monsters And Men |4|

Pairing: (eventual) Dean x Reader Warnings:a bit of angst? Nothing serious.  Word Count:1k A/N: HUGE thanks to @petra-arkanian-1497 for helping me out with this, she saved my ass. This is mostly a filler chapter but I really liked it idk. Promising enough? Tell me how you liked it!

Masterlist – Catch up HERE (Part 1) - Series Masterlist

(Can we just talk about how beautiful this gif is. Found on Google Images credits to owner)

Of Monsters And Men IV:  Lean on Me

When Dean walks back through the door of his house, Y/n has managed to stack the dirty plates tidily by the sink and has moved herself to the couch where she is now napping. A small pit of guilt forms in the bottom of his stomach for making her stand and walk with legs she’s never used before, alone, but it quickly diminishes as he thinks back on his day.

The walk he’d taken calmed him down a little. He’d rolled his pants legs and walked along the shore, dipped his feet in the water, holding his shoes in his hands. Eventually, he’d stopped walking, a good five hundred feet away from his beloved house. He’d turned to look up at it, the rays of sun tracing its familiar outline, briefly recalling how long it had taken to save up for it and rebuilt it. He’d scrunched his toes in the damp sand, feeling the softness of the retreating tide and taking a deep breath, his thoughts going a million miles a second.

Now mermaids are real? Jesus Christ, what a mess. A whole new world, a species only he knew about. The amount of responsibility that had now fallen on his shoulders was massive, too big to handle alone, but he had no idea who to turn to.

He found himself trying to decide if the girl in his house just that, a girl. Were mermaids human? Were they animals? Well, that depended on what how you’d define the word human- No and no. He is not going there.

The idea of her being a monster didn’t even cross his mind.

What did mermaids even eat? She ate her cheeseburger earlier, liked it, too. He supposed some part of her had to be human. How was he supposed to house her? Did she even know how the human world works? It’d be like raising a child. Would she ever go back to her home? The sea? He felt stupid just thinking about this absurd concept.

He’d sat down on a rock, a few feet ways from the shore, and gazed distantly at the horizon, watching the last hues of apricot and bubble-gum pink fade slowly. He’d watched the waves come and go with a peaceful force that died away quickly but smoothly, the familiar, salty fragrance of the ocean putting him instantly at ease. This was safe, familiar, the ocean. Or so he had thought.

Shit, how was he supposed to handle this?

He patted his pockets, finding his smartphone in his front pocket. Dialing the one number he’d never forget, he sat with his feet planted on the ground and his elbow rested on his knees, phone pressed to his ear.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice was almost a whisper.

“Heya, Sammy.” He sighed.

“It didn’t go well, did it?” Yeah, how could the younger Winchester have known when he’d told his brother to just talk to her and not make any assumptions?

“Well, I didn’t have to talk to her.” Dean remarks sarcastically, shoulders sagging and toes curling around a pebble.

“What do you mean?”

Dean explained exactly what had happened. From the second he walked in the house to finding a giant fish in his damn tub, having to take her out of the water and watch the gigantic, colorful, stunning tail transform into legs and her fiery hair turn back to the raven black that he was familiar with, the second air reached her lungs.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you drunk? Or stoned? Or both?”

“I wish.”

Sam promised to come down to visit and meet this mysterious girl –“Mermaid I’m telling you. Not a girl, a friggin’ mermaid.” “Okay, sure. Mermaid. Whatever”- as soon as possible.

So Dean decided it was time to go back.

And there she is, curled up on his couch, again.

What has he gotten himself into? Christ.

He’d dressed her into one of his old, burgundy Henleys that Jessica had bought him and damn did it look good on her. She was beautiful with long, coal colored hair that fell into smooth waves, much like the ocean under the moon.

He didn’t sleep that night.

He spent hours tossing and turning under his covers, tried calming his rapidly beating heart, tried catching even twenty minutes of shut-eye. But he didn’t, his brain a mess of cluttered thoughts.

Giving up, he climbed out of bed and walked down the hall. Raising his eyes, he meets her form and halts.

She’s standing up, or at least trying to. He can hear her soft grunts and huffs as she clutches the arm of the couch, but he makes no move to go help. She takes three really fast breaths before she thrusts herself up to her full height. Arms waving around almost comically, she wobbles and curses under her breath before she steadies.

Smooth legs bare, only in a bandage that’s covering her left thigh, his shirt covering her butt and swallowing her whole and he finds himself short in breath.

She turns slowly and hesitantly tries to take a first step, hand gripping the arm of the couch tightly. Her knee almost buckles and she leans on the couch that’s a little too short for her.

It hits him just then that maybe he’s being a little selfish. Hell, she was dumped in a world she knows nothing about, injured, clueless and scared. She’d had her first encounter with a human, gotten new limbs and on top of everything she has this asshole person yelling at her for all of it, as if he was the victim.

He isn’t.

And yet through all of it, here she is. Fighting.

Dean Winchester, speechless, makes his decision and appears in her field of vision. She stifles a gasp of surprise. He walks around the couch, approaching her very slowly, as if to not scare her. He offers his hand and she looks at it, scared that he’ll lash out again and it sends a spark of guilt through him. A small reassuring smile tugs the corners of his lips. Her eyes examine his expression, then his hand and then his eyes, and before he knows it, she’s giving him the brightest, kindest, most grateful smile he’s ever seen.

She takes his hand and it feels like the world just comfortably slid into place.

He steps closer to her, forearm under hers so she can use him as a crutch, fingers lacing.

“C’mon,” he breathes, voice a low rumble. “Lean on me.”

She takes her first step.

Part 5 :D

Taglists! (Which, by the way, you can join hERE)

Forevers:

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[killjoytigermom]

Chapter 2 - Substitutes And Sewer Systems

“The sewer system?” “Apparently it’s the only way in that doesn’t have camera supervision or Dracs on patrol,” Poison said, reading the message the Underground had sent us. “Can you blame them,” Kid chuckled. “There’s a small unit of Underground folk who’ve provided us with directions that lead directly to their place, they can keep us hidden there until we’re ready to sneak into the hospital,” Poison continued. “They suggest doing the whole operation in one day, with our best option being at 12:10 exactly, when the Drac patrol around the building is taken over by a bunch of Scarecrows. That way no one will be around when we sneak in.” “But what about when we sneak out,” Ghoul wanted to know. Poison looked at the screen in front of him, and back at us. “Yeah, we’re probably going to have to make a run for that one,” he said awkwardly. “What, they didn’t give specifications for that,” I said in disbelief.

“All they’ve said is that there’s an entrance to the sewers two alleys east of the building; they’re suggesting that we take that and immediately get out of the city…” I sighted and took a sip of my can of soda. “Well, it’s like you said…,” I mumbled, “it’s our best shot.” We were all silent for a moment, but then Poison took it upon himself and said: “Alright, well, let’s get prepared then. I want to be at the edge of Battery City at sunrise, because judging from the directions we’ve been given, we’re going to be walking through their cisterns and drainages for quite a while.” The rest of us immediately jumped into action, Fun Ghoul walking towards his work station to finish his next set of explosions, Jet Star collecting everyone’s ray guns to patch them up as best as he could, Kobra Kid walking out of the diner to make sure the Trans Am was solid enough for another long ride through the desert, and Party Poison fixing up a reply to the Underground, confirming we’d be there tomorrow morning.

I stood there, in the middle of the diner, everyone quietly working on what they needed to do to make sure we’d get out of tomorrow’s mission in one piece. Eventually I gathered up the courage to say what had been on my mind for the past couple of days. “Poison?” “What’s up,” the redhead said without looking up from his screen. “M- maybe I shouldn’t go with tomorrow.” That caught his attention. “What, why not?” He looked up, the bright blue light of the screen still illuminating his face, causing his confused expression to look rather haunting. “I mean, we all know my aim is shit, we all know what I do in this organization, and I just don’t want to be in your way, is all.” “No, Tiger, we need you on this mission,” Party said as he stood up and started walking towards me. “I mean, who’s going to get that baby out of there when me and Kobra are shooting up the place, Ghoul is throwing bombs around and Jet’s already behind the wheel, screaming at us to hurry the fuck up,” he said with a grin. “Hell, it’s in your name, even! Tiger Mom. I mean, it’s not like the four of us guys don’t know how to hold a baby, but not when we’re fighting BL/ind force

“So you’re signing me up as the mom of this expedition?” Party smiled. “I thought you’d already done that a few days ago?” I snorted. “Okay, fair enough, smartass,” I said, giving him a gentle push back towards the table where Jet’s contraption was still humming, waiting for a message to be send to the Underground. “I better start prepping too then.” I opened up one of the cabinets behind the bar where I kept most of my stuff and pulled out a drawstring bag, filling it with a few blankets and towels, making sure to pick the cleanest and softest ones, as well as two empty plastic bottles, hoping to fill those up with water, before remembering something. “Hey, guys…,” I said as I turned around to face the diner again, “if this is an infant, and we’re stripping it away from her biological mum… she’s still going to need… well…” At this point Party, Jet and Ghoul were all looking at me, but I decided to crush my embarrassment, counting myself lucky the most immature man of the group had gone outside. This was war after all. “She’s still going to need to get something along the lines of breastfeeding…” I issued, blushing still, despite me putting shame aside. This was one of those moments I was reminded of the fact that even though some called us the Fabulous Five, I was still a woman in a group of guys. Maternity amongst paternity.

“Kid and I were planning to make a brief stop on the black market…,” Jet started slowly, slightly embarrassed. “It’s going to be difficult to get our hands on it but who knows if someone still has milk powder?” “You mean like baby milk,” I asked for reassurance. He nodded, his wild hair bouncing with as he did so. I sighted in desperation. “Even that isn’t really what I’d like to give her, especially since you have to look out for BL/ind brands, ‘cuz we know they put mashed pills in there, and I can’t give her solid food yet either for a good year or so, so I can’t mash something together with fruits and vitamins…,” I thought out loud. Proper baby milk powder was as rare as it could get; even medical equipment was easier to get in the Zones. Not a lot of children were born amongst the Killjoys anymore, and the ones that did had always still had their mum.

“Because actual milk, from like… a mom, would be best… right,” Ghoul asked, with slightly less embarrassment than Jet. “I mean, yeah,” I shrugged defeated. “And you can’t give her that?” “Well, I mean, no, unless you want me to become a fuckin’ wet nurse or something…” The response to Ghoul had barely left my mouth when I realized that that was probably the best way to go about this. I dropped my face in my hands in defeat and to hide my glowing cheeks and sighted. “I’m going to have to become a fucking wet nurse, ain’t I,” I said muffled through my fingers. “If that means this kid will live, then yes,” Party now spoke up. I looked up at him with tired eyes. “I know, Poison, I know. This kid could literally save thousands- no, millions of lives, and she cannot go out and be the new Messiah when she dies during infancy because she’s not getting the proper food.” “So you’ll…-“ “Yes, Party, I’ll do it. I’ll still need supplement for a good two weeks though. If my body is responsive at all. Plus this means I won’t be able to go on missions anymore.” “If that means we get a healthy Messiah, so be it. We won’t miss your aim much anyway,” Party said jokingly, in an attempt to lift the mood.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in,” I said with a grin as I threw an empty soda can at him, before turning to Jet. “Like I said: I’ll still need milk powder. Hopefully just less of it. Try to find pre-Analog stuff; some powder is good for a couple of years I think. If not: hunt for vitamins and fruit. It’s not preferable but it’ll have to do. And no dairy, by the way.” When I saw Jet scribble my advice down on a scrap of paper, I turned back to fill my bag with whatever I would need tomorrow, and tried not to worry about it too much. Maybe he and Kobra would have a lucky find.

After putting minimal medical equipment in the bag as well, just to be sure, I tried to tidy up the kitchen behind the bar of the diner, which I’d sort of claimed as mine long ago, and gabbed a handful of Power Pup cans, the few kitchen utensils that were left behind long ago, and a saucepan, before walking out of the diner and into the desert air, which was starting to cool down as the sun sunk below the dunes at the horizon. Kobra was still half-hidden under the Trans Amp, his boots sticking out from under the dusty, multi-colored car, a few tools lying around in the sand. He didn’t notice me come out, so I let out a short greeting, to let him know it was me walking around, and not a Draculoid that might’ve snuck up on him. I walked towards the small fireplace I’d used many times before to make dinner on. I got out a lighter and grabbed a handful of random tumbleweeds to start a fire, before opening the cans I’d taken with and dumped them all into the saucepan.

Using an old and crooked spoon, I dug through the brown chunks and goo, eventually pulling out a handful of blue pills that were hidden in the food to drug those who ate it. Throwing them into the dirt, I placed the pan with the remaining chunks on the fire, stirring every so often, trying to get most of the liquid to evaporate without burning the actual food that was in the cans. The fact that we’d found a bunch of pans when looting a Scarecrow camp was a gift from heaven above- the goo and liquid BL/ind used to keep the contents of the cans edible was one of the most disgusting things I’d ever tasted, and when I discovered this simple way to get rid of it, I wasn’t the only one that was cheering. One by one the guys emerged from the diner once the smell of meat and old vegetables started to fill the air, and before long we were all munching on tough chunks of food from cans we used as substitute plates while the sun’s last rays of light dyed the sky many shades of orange, pink and purple.

[strangelittlestories]

Good Bean

A #microfiction for anyone who has been a good bean recently... "That's a nice cow you have there, lad." There was a boy on a dirt path. Well, a young man. And he did indeed have a cow with him, on a tatty twine leash. "This cow is a dick. It ate my favourite hat." The person speaking to the young man was swathed in robes, so you could barely make out a thing about them. "Where are you taking it? To the market?" The young man huffed and chewed his lip, sulkily. "No, I'm just taking it out into the woods and hoping it *dies*." The figure in the robes chuckled softly. "What if you were to sell it to *me* instead? I would give you these three magic beans..." The beans were old and wrinkled, though the hand they rested on was not. "That sounds fake, but, honestly, I just really hate this cow. I would trade this cow for any amount of beans." The figure pressed the beans into the young man's hand. "Then the deal is made." They took the leash and began to lead the cow away, up the dirt path. "Hey!" Called the young man and the robed figure stopped for a moment. "Hey, uh ... you're alright." The figure chuckled again and kept walking. The young man was not scolded by his mother when he returned to their farm. He had neither of those things. He had thieved the cow and gave it away for such a cheap price as it was stolen property. Though it had eaten his favourite hat, that much was true. So the beans never got thrown out of a window and into the mud. Instead, that night, with his raggedy coat wrapped tight against the chill, the young man ate one of the beans. There was a great rumbling in his tummy during the night. And when he woke at midnight, he woke screaming as shoots and leaves erupted out his mouth. He passed out. When he woke again, his mouth was empty and he could breathe clearly. He could feel heat on his skin and when he opened his eyes, it was ever so bright. He had never seen a sky without a cloud before and every inch of this strange land was drenched in sun. Everywhere he looked, there were trees, some of which were so tall he had to climb smaller trees just to see the top of them. While some were tiny, even smaller than him and when he looked at the grass he saw that it was not grass at all, but a carpet of impossibly tiny trees. "Do you mind up there, Mr Giant?" A little voice called up to him. "You nearly stepped on my house there!" And the young man saw that in the boughs of some of the trees were little houses, growing like fruit from the branches. And a tiny face was peaking out from one of the little windows and it had a very stern look to it. "Oh. Sorry." Said the young man. "I'll, uh, I'll climb higher up..." "You do that!" The tiny person shouted. And the young man climbed further up the trees and found himself a little perch on one of the big branches. He realised he was hungry, but he didn't want to eat any of the fruit in case it was secretly another house. So he ate a second bean and wrapped one of the big leaves around himself and it was one of those furry kind of leaves, so it was almost like a blanket. When he woke up the second time, he felt something sharp and hard beneath his leaf blanket. Looking beneath him, he saw stones. Shining, precious stones of various sizes. He looked around and saw the stones stretched out along a lengthy shore. As they got closer to the sea, the stones gave way to glittering sand, a rainbow made out of the dust of gem stones. Behind him loomed giant, sheer cliffs. And above those was a great mess of thunderous clouds. As he looked up, the first drops of rain began to splatter down upon his face. Then the lightning struck, lighting up the iridescent beach. The rumble that followed the lightning hit him hard in the chest, but he was already running for the sea and it barely broke his stride. The waves rose up to greet him and he tumbled joyously in the surf until he was exhausted. When he curled back into his leaf blanket, his skin was stained with the glitter of jewels. What he didn't yet know was that it had been beaten so deeply into him by the waves, that his skin would forever more be sparkling and priceless. That night, he did not eat his third bean, for it was his last one. Instead, he planted it in a small cleft in the cliff. When he woke, the beanstalk was not a hulking giant of a thing, but simply an oversized plant from which a number of beans hung. The young man ate a bean. Then another. Then another. He moved through worlds too numerous and wondrous to count or satisfactorily describe. So we won't bother. Suffice to say, by the time he was down to his last bean once more, his eyes were considerably wider and his mouth considerably more lined from laughter. Finally, he found himself on a hillside at night, under a million stars, with mountains before him and the lights of a town behind. Sitting on a little mound to one side, he saw a figure swathed in robes. The figure had her hood pulled back. She had blonde hair and her eyes were two more stars. "There are no refunds on the beans, you know." She said. "I was hoping I'd find you." Said the young man. "I've eaten the cow, anyway." She said. The young man smiled. "You're alright."

[arts-butthound]

Sense and Salarian ability, chpt 4

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537765/chapters/64412392

He drifted home to a planet far away from the Citadel; where the grass grew high and he and his brothers would come home after a day of play, smelling of clay and tropical pollen. The smell of jungle plants seeped into the humidity of the air and rich, moist soil conformed to the feet. Lau could almost feel and smell the sunshine of Nasurn … Damn. This herbal mixture was everything that the asari vendor had said it would be! He sunk lower into the deep trench of the tub, water tickling the muscles in his head. He breathed in the arid spice and wished it were possible to stay here in the water, time easing to a standstill, for the rest of the day.

He’d been in the tub all morning, finally able to steal a few hours to rehydrate his porous skin. The recycled air of the Citadel tended to lean towards the dry side and long, frequent bathes had become necessary since moving here to run the gallery.

It was now nearly noon, standard station time, and the world outside of the bathroom called. He had obligations to attend to and a certain asari to appease. He heaved himself lazily from the tub.

             Inside the apartment, his strict habits were as uniform as his decorating-dealing in sharp corners and absolutes. Get out of the tub. Facial moisturizer. Body moisturizer. Horn oil. Eye drops. Get dressed. Straighten up the bathroom. Turn on the venting fan. Then it was off to the kitchen for a quick cup of tea and a small amount of nutrient paste. As he ate, Lau didn’t taste a thing. The man ran on auto-pilot, watching the clock, stealing minutes for himself. He had to be sure to only take what could reasonably be excused away.

             Eramanthe had only thought to invite him to the Art Museum at the last moment, yet had the gall to say it would mean ‘so so much’ if he showed up. He couldn’t decide if it was because the museum had borrowed a piece from her two hundreds and she wanted a visible excuse to avoid it or if it was that she was asked to be a speaker, but she was excited none the less.

Five minutes stolen.

Lau knew she had other friends to bother about this kind of thing. She hadn’t given him time to reasonably ‘think on it’ before he had to tell her ‘no’ on the pretense of pretending to be busy. Somehow the woman thought that inviting him just yesterday evening was practical. Lau had been in the middle of dinner. He had looked forward to doing absolutely nothing today.  He shambled about the apartment, deciding now was the perfect time to straighten sofa cushions in the living room.

Seven minutes.

“Never should have answered that call.” The salarian grumbled under his breath. He took a lint roller to his shirt, his keen eyes and hands zipping over stray bits of fuzz that stubbornly held to the fabric. A beige dress-shirt with a built-in abdominal guard and quarter rolled sleeves. Black pants. Newly polished boots. Gloves that reached just to the edge of his palm-a gift from his sister and apparently the current style at home.

Nine minutes.

             Lau ruefully locked up his apartment and walked to the closest rapid transit port. Fifteen minutes on the dot. The alarm on his omni-tool began to ring as he punched his destination into the terminal. Precisely on time. In this way, he could easily blame traffic on his tardiness, explaining to Eramanthe how there was a decent wait for a cab and how traffic had been bad at a certain intersection.

             He enjoyed that RT cabs didn’t need real people to drive. As annoying as her portals could be, cabs operated by an Avina module were a god-send to the socially averse. Only tell her where you needed to be and then enjoy the quiet while you could.

             On the annual occasion, The Ambei’on Museum of Culture and Art would open its doors to the public free of charge-claiming to want to spread a celebration of diversity in the galaxy. Parents often brought bored children, who ran around with heinous abandon. College students would come with sketch books in hand to study form. Art collectors would walk about, admiring and hunting for prestigious artists they had yet to purchase a piece from. Lau stood outside the front doors, staring up at the event banner.

Inside, the halls and amphitheater were abuzz with excitement and the garbled conversations of dozens of groups as they wandered about. This year the museum had welcomed in some of the most prominent works from the human race into their collection. Human artists and tour guides stood by pieces, grandly speaking of the history and importance of their assigned station. As Lau walked through the building towards the Asari wing, he made a mental note to make the trip here another time to look at what human art had to offer. He’d caught glimpses of works in passing, and though one of the more ugly species in the galaxy, human artists seemed to have a similar grip with the asari on universal form. Even if their painted colors were muddied at first glance.

As a college student, Lau had once thought his work would end up in a museum like this. He smiled to himself and shook his head at youthful folly. So few artists among the millions were actually purchased by museums; or were considered influential enough to be remembered in grand halls. Eramanthe had been at the game for three centuries. Now in her four-hundreds, she was bound to have at least one piece in a museum or another.

“Lau! Hey!” Lau focused ahead of him as Eramanthe waved, shouting to gain his attention in one of the most earnest, undignified manners. He half smiled, waving back at her as he walked. “I’m so glad you could finally make it!”

“Yeah, sorry I’m late. Traffic got bad at-”

“Oh I don’t care about that!” Eramanthe waved off his feigned concern. “I’m just glad you showed up! I was sure you were going to tell me to bugger off when I called last night.” Her voice bounced with glee, Eramanthe’s smile curling around her cheeks as she took Lau arm in arm and began to walk.

“Bugger off?” Lau gave her a strange look. “Is that new slang you picked up somewhere?”

“It’s a human expression I learned recently while out people watching!” She took her free hand and waved it in front of them-as if she were relating to him something regal. “It means to hit the road! Get lost! Go away!” Lau made a small humming sound, shook his head. “Well I liked it!” Eramanthe defended, turning up her nose playfully. “Eighteen years of their being in space and I’m still learning so much about the species.”

“Only you would consider slang as educational.” Lau answered flatly, scratching the beneath of his jaw.

“You smell really nice today. You wearing a new cologne?”

They walked together companionably for a while, Eramanthe blathering on about some of the artists being displayed-how she’d like to meet and collaborate with them. Lau kept a constant eye out for business partners of his family. A hand full of them lived on the Citadel as well.  If he had to deal with the business aspect of his life today, Lau was sure that he’d end up on the evening news under the banner “Salarian Nerves Break.” Or “Frog-Man Gone Wild!” He wasn’t even entirely sure what a frog was.

The Grand Hall was a wide long room that was saved for sculptures of all sizes-those that ranged on the smaller side were presented closer to the walls, allowing for larger sculptures to breathe on the open floor. The best of every species creators were featured here in stone and sand, wood and clay, metal and waylaid junk. The room had the comforting smells of fresh floor polish and aging materials. The two would point out pieces that caught their fancy and stop to discuss it for a moment.  Move on to the next piece.

Eramanthe stopped and pointed out a sculpture that froze Lau's breath into a tight ball inside his throat. It was radiant. It was powerful. Abstract metal spikes, not quite connected, depicted the mighty and solid form of the turian people. When viewed at a distance, it was everything the turian hierarchy was known for. However, as the viewer grew closer to the piece and circled about, the more gapes appeared in the polished metal. In the center of this behemoth, made of softer curves and wood, was a form that knelt on bended knees and clutching at its head and shoulders heaved up around the cowl. The wood could have been visually appealing, but large gouges had been taken from the form-its surface was splintered and scratched.

It was perfect…everything here had to be placed just so. The execution was flawless. It was one of those pieces that dared you to reach out to feel the reality of its existence. Lau resisted this urge, of course. He wasn’t an animal. But it was there none the less.  The corner of his mouth threatened to twitch, to become an awed sense of wonder and respect. Maybe he could get the artist to contribute to the gallery…maybe the gallery could afford to commission a piece for permanent display!

“Caius Olymlin.” Eramanthe read the artist plaque. Lau turned jaggedly to face her. The crazy bastard was already in museums? So soon?  He looked back up at the piece. The space between years became tangible in front of Lau’s eyes. He hadn’t ever thought Caius capable of such complexity-

So careless. So reckless. The light catches his plates as he laughs, shining mercury. Surrounded by others, magnetic. Despised by the teachers around him. Despised by me. He plays more than he studies. His work is safe forms, passing grades. If he doesn’t take this seriously, why is he here?

-He’d always had great talent, but such discipline? He’d grown so much as an artist. “Goddess! Lau, get the load of this! He made this right out of college! That’s just not fair.”

Of-fucking-course he did.

             The enchantment died in Lau’s eyes, his aloof scowl returning. Taking two steps from the sculpture, Lau’s boots clicked against the wooden floor when he returned to Eramanthe’s side. “You don’t say.” He droned, briefly glancing at the plaque. “Well, some have the eye at a young age. Shall we go on to your piece?”

“Ah-we don’t need to do that.” Eramanthe waved off the idea, smiling uncomfortably. “It’s just from the Athame series. I really don’t need to see those…ever again.”

Lau smirked, shaking his head at her. Artists and their inexplicable need to distance themselves from old works would forever be funny. Lau gestured forward as Eramanthe took his arm once more and they left Olymlin’s reputation behind without a second glance…barely.

             In his desperation to put distance between him and the sculpture, Lau allowed Eramanthe to take the lead as they walked through the rest of the grand hall and through other bits of the museum. He teased Eramanthe-threatened to drag her toward “Athame in Water-Light” for ‘the culture’ and ‘the pride’ in his friend for having a piece of art in a gig like this!

“So, when is Zejaa’s Dala’Sian?” Eramanthe asked, trying to subtly turn the two away from her sculpture’s location. Subtlety was never her strong suit.

“A little more than nine months. Big parties like that take time to get together.” Lau shrugged. “Client’s need to make time on their schedules, family circles need to be notified to send their leading member. Etcetera.”

“Goddess.  I’ll never understand why it takes you guys so long to officially put someone in office. She’s been Dalatrass for what? A year and a half already?”

“Acting Dalatrass, Era.” Lau pointed out. He pushed her gently with his shoulder, which only served to make the both of them sway slightly. “Completely different set of forms and treaties. There is the proper mourning period to consider, after all.”  All these years of closely working within a salarian dynasty and she still cared to know so little about whom she dealt with. Some prideful part of Lau chose to guffaw at Eramanthe’s perceived audacity.

“And some of you still wonder why Illicei turned down the job. So damn fussy-” Eramanthe’s attention was suddenly called away by a museum attendant and a group of guests, waiting around with eager eyes. She’d be back in a few moments.

Lau took the chance to sit on a bench and assume a distant gaze. He barely remembered anything about his grandmother. He’d been too young when she’d passed on to the next circle. He only knew her from what he’d heard. What he heard was she’d been one of the most willful ohm’re in his family in recent memory.  Eramanthe seemed to look back on her fondly enough. But then, she liked most everyone. His mother, Illicei’s daughter, looked back on his grandmother with more embarrassment and distance. She suggested to his clutch of ten that they do the same.

He stretched his fingers against the fabric of his pants. Tension he hadn’t been aware of eased out of the digits as the white noise of the museum visitors hummed off of the walls. Today wasn’t completely intolerable. Maybe he’d grab some lunch with Eramanthe before walking home. Lau’s favorite food vendor, an arthritic old salarian, was near here. Lau, being one who generally didn’t enjoy cooking, figured he’d treat himself and buy enough to have for dinner later.

“So-” Eramanthe reappeared, waking Lau from his train of thought. “It looks like I’m a little late for a talk I’m supposed to give. It’s for a bunch of kids and their parents. I’ll only like fifteen or so minutes…”she planted her hands on his shoulders and patted them. “Stay! I’ll bring back some wine for us!” Gone again before Lau could blink. How did a woman with such short legs move so fast? One would think she were more rubber than a salarian whelp.

Now alone, he was able to take in the room fully. The colors of clothes against the multicolored stone blurred and lurched. Then his eyes glanced over a ghost in the crowd that made his chest heave with a heavy groan. The duct rat girl.

Damn the gods.

The girl stood still among the crowd, strange faces passing her by without seeing. But Lau saw her, much to his discomfort. He’d never seen one stranger so often. There was an entire ward, an entire station, of people between them and yet he saw her more and more often. A stranger is supposed to have the decency to go away after a brief encounter.

Despite Lau’s staring, she had yet to see him. Though still dirty and unkempt, her eyes were placid, her face blank as she stared up at a jagged red stone statue.

It was her hands that caught the flick of his gaze. How, though glued to her sides, they moved and caressed imaginary forms. Lau blinked a few times. He analyzed. She wasn’t touching it, though her fingers were ravenous. If Lau had to guess, he’d think…was she tracing the object of her hands attention. It was just an old krogan statue, crudely carved a millennium ago. It wasn’t an attractive thing by any means. Even the face had corroded over time. More or less, it had probably been donated by some collector as a possible tax write off. Or perhaps found by an archeologist before the krogan’s had become an isolationist nation on Tuchanka. Cultural history, perhaps. But art history?

The girl’s eyes roved over it, though. She looked for something that his, admittedly biased world view, could not reach. She’d looked at his worthless scrap too…his horns burned slightly.  Obviously she had yet to learn how to look at anything worthwhile. For now she wielded misguided eyes.

He considered her.

He considered his options.

He considered how much he was potentially going to regret this.

“You know, I never did get the… opportunity to thank you, properly. For returning the sculpture you broke, that is.” Lau cleared his voice appearing at her backside.  

Her shoulders bounced up around her neck, her hands immediately flinched into little claws. A slight gasp that could count almost as a strangled screech. Well…he hadn’t meant to scare her so.

Lau looked to the statue she’d been so enamored with. He wore a false smile, shifting his weight from foot to foot almost imperceptibly.  “It was unexpected.  I apologize for my anger then. I was certain you had come back to rob me. Not return a repaired sculpture.” Should he tell her that it was admirable? He probably shouldn’t. The right thing was done and it would be repetitive to say more.

The human didn’t say anything. How awkward. She just glanced at him with those piercing eyes over and over again. Looked from her shoes to him; back to her shoes. Back to him. She nodded, swallowing. Lau began to reconsider his decision to come over here. “Your school teacher should be praised. They’ve done a fine job teaching you at an introductory level of clay work. Eramanthe, my asari friend, wouldn’t shut up about how pleased she was at your repairs.” He wondered if he sounded friendly enough? Should he try better eye contact? The two stood, shoulder to hip, as still as the stone in front of them.

“Was….was it her sculpture?” She squeaked. Finally!

“Er, no. Someone else’s.”

More quiet between them. What had been so fascinating to her about this krogan rock?

“I don’t…go…to school.” The girl wrung the hem of her shirt repeatedly.

Lau looked down at her with offended surprise. ‘I suppose that explains her lack of manners before.’ he thought to himself. “But, where did you learn to fix that, without anyone to teach you?”

She shrugged, looking down and rolling her open palms. “I dunno. I followed the wire…it looked right?”

Right. The base armatures. He’d momentarily forgotten those were in there. “Tell me” he cleared his throat, looking back towards the broken immortalized krogan, “I noticed you were looking at this. What catches your eye?”

“It’s pretty. You can see where it got hurt. It feels nice, the edges-I didn’t touch it!” She clarified, fiddling with her hands when Lau shot her an incredulous glare. “I-imagined- it feels strong. That’s all. How it looks, I mean. It’s still got a lot of sharp parts in it- on it. That he doesn’t have a face…feels comfortable? Like he could be…I dunno. I just…like it. I guess.”

“You were staring at it rather hard to simply ‘like’ it. And what about your hands? You were-”

“I didn’t touch it! I swear. They just do that when I…look…at pretty things.” Her cheeks burned red, and her brows knit together. Lau watched as she knotted her fingers behind her back. He took a deep breath.

“It’s a texture thing, isn’t it?” He smiled at her. A small smile! Only to say he understood. There were things in life, when they lay in your hands, that made a person feel like comfortably vibrating. Or those things made them feel at a standstill, complete in their focus. “Understandable. Plenty of people have that and just don’t notice the need as keenly as others.” Her eyes grew to the size of small moons. “I suppose if you’re looking for texture, krogan art is a good place to seek it out-”

“Whazza difference?”

“Excuse me?”

“The difference. I mean, krogan art-isn’t all art the same? No matter who makes it?”

“A decent question, I suppose.” Lau shrugged and crossed his arms. “Different species have different needs of the senses, and scope of emotion. As an example, asari artists tend to work with soft, gentle curves. Classy and refined. Whereas krogans don’t seem to edit themselves, leading to the edges. No forethought, no planning. Just straight into it and getting a rather rough looking final product, but there’s honesty to it…if often a jaded honesty. An artist is only limited by their imagination, but their culture and environment do color their tastes and styles. To say all art is ‘the same’ is insulting to the works. Not to mention rude.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be.”  The cageyness in her eyes had dulled some. She looked at the statue again, a small smile gracing her features. “I wanna do that when I grow up.” She said, nearly under her breath; more to the air around her than to him or anyone else.

Lau scoffed, “You could certainly pick better points of inspiration to base that off of.  This piece of junk is more than likely here as appeasement. Even if you do have an affinity for krogan art, there are better examples.” He looked down at her, an unsure knot forming at the base of his gut. “What did you say your name was, earlier? I don’t believe I caught it.”

“Tegan.”

He nodded. “You may call me Ropon.” What could Lau say next? He knew, but part of him was still uncomfortable. It was a complete disaster last time. But…everything he’d been trained to believe seemed to stand in front of him. Some have the eye at a young age. Lau looked at her in earnest. “You-If you’d like to actually learn a bit about sculpting, I’d consider…having you back at the gallery for a few lessons.”

The duct ra…Tegan’s mouth dropped open and she gapped at him like a fish- eyes all a twinkle. He straightened his posture and folded his arms behind his back. “You’ll have to work for me though, in exchange. I’m not just handing out a free ride. Cleaning will have to suffice until I find a way to make you more useful.”

“YESSIR!”

Sudden. Irritating. “No need to shout.” He hushed, looking about them as others curiously looked in their direction. They soon lost interest. “Show up late morning tomorrow.  Ten to Eleven, preferably. Once the work is done, I’ll see where I need to start with you.”

Tegan bit her lower lip, jaw trembling with excitement as she continually nodded. Lau was surprised she wasn’t making herself dizzy like that. That kind of enthusiasm…Lau was almost jealous. He scanned the room for an approaching Eramanthe. Wishing for escape. Needing the wine she’d promised to return with. Tegan continued to stare at him eagerly, her smile a ‘u’ of excitement. It made him uncomfortable-like trying to humor nieces and nephews that were a year old. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well…I have other things I need to be doing today. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”

If running away from a child could in any way look dignified, Lau would have done so. Instead, he turned on heel and walked away with his back straight and arms still folded behind him…desperately wanting booze.

“Aelin! Guess what!” Tegan bounced down the steps of the museum, towards a waiting older brother with a warm smile and a rub for her head.

Aelin stood up from his place on the steps and stretched his long arms. “Whazz’at, Petal? You look pretty happy right now.” Tegan smiled and nodded her head, taking Aelin’s hand in her own. She loved the sound of his voice; the way he always sounded tired, a bit husky-speaking in rounded tones. When she’d been small enough to share a bed with Vey and had had a nightmare, she remembered him rubbing her toddler belly and murmuring little pattering phrases in a language unknown to her.  Though, thanks to the blow he took to the underneath of his hood the evening past, he sounded wheezy, as though it still hurt to enunciate.

He took a long drag of a cigarette as the two descended down the stone steps, blueish gray smoke exhaled. Tegan watched it twist and curl until the smoke dissipated into the air. “Aren’t you trying to quit?” she pursed her lips as she gave him a solid look.

Aelin only chuckled, taking the thing in between his teeth as he spoke. “Vey certainly thinks I should. Harder to quit than she thinks it is, though.”

“You’re not even going to try, are you?”

“Not at the moment, no. So, what’s the thing I should be guessing at?”

             As the two walked down the street, Tegan twittered on all about her afternoon in the museum, all the pretty things that she’d seen! Aelin had a hard time imagining the paintings and sculptures she talked about but smiled along with her enthusiasm. That is, until she started telling him about the art dealer again. The more she talked about her conversation with him, the more Aelin’s paranoia twisted his stomach. His smile became a much wearier thing, though he tried not to quash her fervor. He listened to her babble on until they came to a small convenience store, where Aelin bought them both a fruity drink and sat them on a bench. (His bruised lung had begun to feel tired from the walking anyway, so now was as good a time as any to break.)

“Petal, I’m very glad you’re excited for this. But, you didn’t give him a...immediate answer, did you?” His fingers played with the condensation on the cold bottle.

“Yes?” Tegan answered, taking a gulp of the drink. “Why?”

“Well… You have a habit of doing this when you’re excited or want to help. And sometimes you end up regretting that, y’know-”

“That’s not gonna happen this time. This’ll be so much fun!”

Aelin stayed quiet for a minute, taking a drink and thinking. “Okay…um, I’m going to come with you tomorrow then.  Just to keep an eye on things…see what you learn while over there.”

“No!” Tegan stood suddenly. Her hair moved along with her, like a wild animal, as she slammed down her bottle onto the bench, glaring at her brother. Tears burned their threat at the edge of her eyes. “No! You wouldn’t be saying this if it were Vey or Cetus! I’m not stupid! I don’t need you to babysit me!”

“This is not babysitting! And I never said you were stupid, Tegan.” Aelin tried leveling her with a stern glare, patting the seat beside him again. She only crossed her arms and withdrew further from him.  He groaned, leaning against the bench and feeling his bruises wince and swirl. “Yes, I would say the same thing to the other two. You’re a bit on the naïve side, Petal. I need to make sure you’re okay with this guy.”

“It’s fine! He invited me! There’s going to be other people around, so I’ll be fine!”

“You get more stubborn by the day, you know that? Humor me…and know that it’s not me thinking less of you, little sister. Bad people exist.” Aelin shifted on the bench slightly, to better reach for and rub Tegan’s back. He felt her body angrily quiver under his finger tips.  “If this guy is honest, he wouldn’t invite you back if he thought you were stupid. If he’s a jackass, I want to be there to help you…let me?”

[lets-be-real-biscuits-blog]

January 2nd, 2018

11:45 am

I just woke up and I don’t feel like getting up, my head freaking hurts. Not to mention I feel like I ate sand paper.

I’m going to listen to music and just not get up for an hour. That should work.

I just feel so drained and tired when I stand or get up, and I already feel like shit as it is.

So I’ll check in when something interesting happens.

***

2:28 pm

Well, nothing interesting happened, but I got off my ass. I think that’s all your gonna get for me today, so I’m probably going to throw a story in here somewhere.

Anyways, I’ll check in later.

***

Story time!

Chapter One: Ambulance

*Damon Salvatore’s P.O.V*

I was looking for someone to drink dry, in the eastern part of Mystic Falls. The air was cold and foggy, as I watched the lonely street of freezing tears from the sky’s dark clouds, and waited for a car to pass. It was pouring and you could barely see the light from the lamp post across the road. It was the perfect place to wait for someone to run you over. My body was laid out, in the middle of the black crumbled gravel, and the darkness from the sky, was picture perfect for the screen of a horror film.

I could just feel the dark atmosphere around me, as I laid there in my now soaked leather jacket. My black hair was stuck to my forehead and I heard the light rumbling sounds of a vehicle approaching. A mischievous smirk appeared on my lips, as I awaited the car’s tires to run me over. It was going full speed, and my only thought was; ‘It’s a shame, they have no idea that they’re going to run over a man.’ The tires slammed into my right arm and ankle, making a sickening cracking sound in my bones.

I mentally laughed, as the car’s back tires hit me as well and that’s when the driver stopped the car. 'Time to play dead.’ I thought and a woman came out of the driver’s side. When she came to the back of the car, she gasped at the sight of me; a dead man. I could practically hear the tears in her eyes, as she repeated the same words. “Oh my God!"She repeated them again and she backed up. She ran back to the car, probably looking for her cell phone, so she can call someone. I got up, careful not to make a sound. The woman wore a pantsuit, with a pink blouse under it and black heels. I carefully made my way towards her, my feet not making a sound as I took steps.



My eye’s glowed red and I readied my fangs. I tapped her shoulder and she wiped around. Her eyes widened in fear and I covered her mouth. "Don’t scream!” I ordered softly, my compulsion made her quiet.

I tilted her head and bit down on her neck. Her blood spilled out and I tried to drink every last drop. It kept pouring out, like the rain. She soon grew limp and I drunk more of her blood. It tasted sweet, like candy to a child, or water to an animal that has been wondering the desert for a long time. I bit harder down, as I grabbed her shoulder and forced her closer to me. My fun was soon died. Headlights to another vehicle appeared and I could hear the slashing of the rain hitting the top.

“Two in one night, you’re too kind.” I said, aloud to the dead girl. I wiped the blood off my face and made sure I didn’t have any that went on my clothes. I snickered and stuck her back into her car and before I knew it, the car that I heard from earlier crashed into the back of the woman’s car. The front of it shattered into pieces and rolled twenty feet away, until it came to a stop. I looked at it, with wonder.It was a four door, 2009 Ford Explorer. It was a dark blue and some of the windows were broken, from the crash. I walked to the truck, to make sure if there was any survives. I bent down to see a man and woman, arms sprawled out and their eyes closed.

They didn’t have a heartbeat, but I did hear a faint one. Maybe someone in the back? I questioned myself. I got up from my crouching position and made my way to the door in the back. I crouched back down, the door had a dent and the window was cracked. Since it was dark, I couldn’t see anything through the window. I grabbed a hold of the door and yanked it off, with my strength. There, a young girl sat upside down, and blood from her head was dripping on the ground. The girl could barely open her eyes, “Mom, Dad?” She asked, in a croaked voice.

She looked tired and almost fell asleep. She was having trouble staying awake, as tears rolled down her face. “Hello?” She said a little bit louder. More tears streamed down her face and she tried moving, but she winced and whimpered. I felt bad for the girl, she had no idea what was going on and she just lost her parents. A pang of guilt filtered my stomach, as I looked at the girl with pity. Since when did I feel, when did I ever feel guilty for something like this? “Someone? Anyone?” She cried out.

“Hey, I’m here.” I told her and she let out a deep breath. I slowly bent inside and unbuckled her. She slipped out of her seat and fell into my arms. I pulled us out of the Ford and set us beside it. She lay limp in my arms, as she tried to look around. “What’s going on?” She asked quietly. She was slowly breathing, as she tried to open her crystal blue eyes. Her black hair was clamped to her head from the blood. “You were in a car crash.” I said, stroking her cheek. “W-who are you?” She stuttered the question. Her dark green skinny jeans were ripped from a gash in her leg and she was losing a lot of blood.

“My name is Damon Salvatore.” I said, making sure she wouldn’t fall asleep. “What’s your name?” I asked her. “Lille, where are my mom and dad?” She asked, getting worried for her parents. Lille didn’t look no more than thirteen. I can’t imagine losing parents, at such a young age. I looked at her, I gave an apologetic look and she let more tears escape her water line.》 “No,” she shook her head, “No!” She said louder.

“I’m sorry Lille, for your loss.” I said, trying to be polite. Lille probably had no idea that the world could be so cruel. How it could crush you into a million pieces and most people wouldn’t care. She needed someone to care and she needs help, she’s losing a lot of blood. “No.” She whispered, as the tears fell out of her eyes and onto to my chest. Her head was against my chest and she was slowly closing her eyes. Shoot!

“Lille, you need to stay awake.” I said trying to get her attention, her eyes started to roll and I needed to do something, quick. I bit my wrist, blood poured from my vein. “Lille,” Lille looked up at me and saw my wrist. I leaned her against me, I put my wrist in front of her mouth and she looked at me with pure confusion. I put her lips on the blood, and she struggled against me. “You need to drink.” I softly spoke, with order. I put my wrist against her mouth and she couldn’t help the blood that spilled into her mouth.

She stopped struggling and tried to rip my hand away from her. It didn’t work. After a minute, I pulled my hand away from her mouth and she tried to get out of my grasp. It didn’t help that she had a little frame, her mouth hung open and she was breathing heavy. She still had tears forming in her eyes. “Lille?” I asked, and she put her head on my chest. I could tell she was scared, her body was shaking. I tried comforting her, by rubbing her back. But I don’t think it was helping. “What are you doing to me?” She asked her voice low and had fear clearly in it.

I sighed, “I know it might seem crazy, but I’m trying to help you.” I said slowly, “How do you feel.” She looked up at me and seemed to be confused. I lifted up my hand and wiped the blood off her temple, to reveal a healed gash that once was there. She looked down, she seemed so confused. I lifted her chin and made her look at me. “……..I feel, okay.” She was hesitant about her words. She looked me in the eyes and suddenly relaxed. Her brows weren’t furrowed, her eyes didn’t squint, and her breathing wasn’t heavy, but still her tears didn’t stop.

She clasped and put her head on my shoulder. She sobbed, as I stroked her hair. I can’t help but feel hurt seeing her like this, it’s like she turned my humanity on. Just like that, I can’t believe a human can control my emotions, in just a snap of her fingers; she can make me feel guilt and other feelings I can’t control. She lifted her head from my shoulder, “Shouldn’t we call someone?”

“I think we should,” I said. But what if she tells someone about everything that happened; how I gave her my blood and it healed her injuries. “But you have to keep me a secret.” More confusion covered her face; she looked at me and tilted her head. “What do you mean?” She sniffled; her eyes were red and puffy. Did she really forget that I gave her my blood? “When I gave you my blood, you can’t tell anyone about that.” I answered; she nodded and put her head back on my chest. I couldn’t believe how well she was taking this, but she really doesn’t know the whole story. She put her forehead under my chin and started to shake again.



She really must be scared, she lost her parents and now a stranger is telling her not to tell anybody that I fed her my blood. She’s probably cold as well, it’s poring pretty hard. What am I going to do? I can’t just leave her; if I call someone they would ask questions about the drained woman in the car. “How come your blood healed me?” Lille asked. She was curled into a ball in my arms. “…..Because, I’m not exactly human.” I said quietly. She looked up and I knew what she was going to ask. “I’m a Vampire.”

I swear I saw her make a funny face, but she quickly changed her expression when she saw how serious I was. She gulped and put her head back under my chin. “Oh,” Was all she said, her shaking got worse and held her a little tighter. “I won’t hurt you,” I said in a-matter-of-fact tone. But I tried to soften my voice as much as I could. I lifted her chin up again and she had fear in her eyes. “I promise.” I said sincerely. She tried to give a smile, but it was broken. Broken and crumbled to the point where she needs someone to lift her up. A drop of blood from her moth dripped onto her chin and I wiped it off. She looked back down and snuggled into my side. I unzipped my coat a little and pulled out my phone.

I dialed Liz’s number and waited for her to pick it up. It ringed three times, before it revealed Liz’s voice. “Hello, Damon?”

“Yeah, Liz. I’m going to need you and an ambulance, at the Eastern part of Mystic Falls.”

“Why, is everything alright?” She asked, with a little worry in her voice. “No, there are three dead bodies, one survivor, and two wrecked cars. One of the body’s look like they’ve been attacked by an animal, if you know what I mean?” She went quiet for a moment, and then I heard her curse under her breath. “Okay, I’ll have two ambulances there in six minutes and I’ll be there shortly after.”

“See you then.” I said and the line went dead. It wasn’t long after, the ambulance got there, that Liz was already asking questions to Lille. Lille explained how that she was barely awake, and I helped by making sure she did. Lille was getting more skittish, every minute I was away from her. The distance between us was short, and she was about to leave soon. I didn’t want to leave her, not just because she knows what I am, but because she turned my humanity on. Again, how can a simple girl do so much to someone like me? Someone as heartless as me? I had no idea how, but I was going to find out.

“Sheriff,” I asked Liz, from behind her and she turned around. “What is it, Damon?” She asked curiously. “Could I ride with Lille, to the hospital? She still seems pretty scared.” I asked and she nodded. “Yeah, as long as it’s okay with Lille. Than go ahead and keep her company.”

I nodded and turned away. Lille needs someone to be there for her, until someone else can be there. But I couldn’t help the guilt in the pit of my stomach, to grow even more. I walked up to the ambulance, as they were putting Lille up in it with the cot. I lifted myself up into it and sat myself by her. In the light of the truck, it looked like Lille had gotten paler. There was dark circles under her eyes and she had an IV get stuck into her forearm. She looked at me and started to smile, as the doors to the ambulance closed and it drove away to the nearest hospital.

The way she looked made me feel worse, I didn’t need to be here for her, but I chose to anyway. She lifted her hand a little, I’m guessing for me to take and I gladly took it. I smiled back and the ride there, she never took her eyes off me.

***

7:24 pm

Me and my sister watched vines for an hour before my parents came home with pizza.

Nothing again has happened. Just been sitting on the couch the entire time, watching Vampire Diaries.

I’m feeling alright, just numb. Mentally speaking. I’m ignoring my sorrow, my never ending one.

Anyways, I’m gonna go. I’ll check in later.

***

11:37 pm

Well, bed time. I’m still watching Vampire Diaries with my little sister.

We’ve been watching it for the past few days now, it’s become like a ritual. Its kind of funny.

Anyways, I’m going to bed. Goodnight to all, and I’ll check in tomorrow.(If I don’t wake up dead)

Yours truly,

The Girl Who Ignores The World