#(though Blizzard was 5 chapters long)

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

My outline's almost 5k and I'm not done with it :/

[val-cansalute]

summary: You’ve been in Jackson for three months; you’ve been stuck in a perpetual cycle of guilt and ravenous grief, trying desperately to recover from what went down between you and your brother before you left home and came here. Needless to say, you’re fitting in like a lego block in an 1000 piece puzzle, and you realise you’re better off going back to the old house, where you can succumb to the thoughts that plague you. Maria tries to help here and there, shoving you into patrol with people she prays you’ll get along with, namely Ellie Williams. Rather than that, you expectedly remain strong in your stance, both of you as closed off as each other. You come to appreciate the mutual understanding you’ve reached, giving each other space, only ever making slightly critical remarks, to the point where you think you see cracks start to form in your iron shell. But iron is iron, after all.

ch. 1 -

You’re not getting better, definitely worse. Patrol is the only force beckoning you to leave your den of misery, patrol with Ellie. Not much luck there either, you return with an injured ankle and an Ellie who is slightly less awkward and icy, similar to you. Though, when you’re alone with your thoughts again, you are utterly helpless.

ch. 2 -

Progress is dwindling, regress is massive; you’ve been inside for a fucking long time, with your only motivation for getting outside off the table. The numbness is overwhelming, so the knocking goes unanswered as you merge with your mattress. You told yourself you’d leave Jackson once you can walk again. Then, Ellie breaks the door down, with a very important food delivery. She profusely apologises, but the blizzard raging outside captures your focus. She can’t get home now. Sleepover?

ch. 3 -

This chapter contains smut.

The tension is high after last night’s events. Ellie’s on her way soon after, and the consequences of her busting through your door fully set in when the woman from the infirmary manages to get inside to check if your ankle is healing well. Good news: it is. So, you can set off soon. Ellie returns, to your surprise, and she comes bearing gifts. You learn something new everyday, e.g. weed makes you and Ellie horny.

ch. 4 -

Ellie’s departure was a gentle slaughter of your heart, leaving you dazed and empty. It’s time to go. One last meeting with the people of Jackson at the party Ellie left you to help with, and you’re off, leaving nothing but a note and a confused Ellie to read it behind.

ch. 5 -

She’s searching for you, she’s desperate, and hungry, and exhausted, but she’s been worse. There’s no way she won’t find you.

ch. 6 -

This chapter contains smut.

Recovery is a slow process, but Ellie is someone you’ve historically found comfort in. Each day, she expands the bounds of that comfort, and each day, you’re sure you want to live to see another.

playlist:

[mulderscully]

i've forgotten if they're green or they're blue (2/5)

tags: firstprince. rated e. eventually smut. multichap. timeloop/magical realism. chrismas fluff. multiverse. book/movie smash up.

summary: When the worst snowstorm New York city has had since the Great Blizzard of 1947 snows Alex and Henry into their Brownstone, Alex falls into a bizarre dream and awakens in a world much like his own. Only it seems like he's suddenly five inches shorter, five years younger and why is Henry the only person who can tell?

AKA, Movie Alex falls into Bookverse before he and Henry get together.

[CHAPTER ONE]

Something is wrong.

He can feel it before he opens his eyes. He feels like there is a cinder block laying on his chest, heavy and huge, making it difficult to breathe.

The dreadful feeling continues to spread until the only thing Alex can focus on is the rapid beating of his heart. The muscle he trusts to keep his blood bumping feels both massive and like it's being squeezed all at once, and not in a good way.

For a terrifying moment he cannot seem to force his eyes to open.

When he was fifteen he had sleep paralysis for the first time. Back then he had no idea what it was or why it was happening. He's long abandoned Catholicism, but his young teenage mind jumped head first into worst case scenario, thoughts of demonic possession and other shit that he was too scared and embarrassed to vocalize outloud had him setting an old bible next to his bed even though he didn't actually think it would do anything.

It happened rarely enough that he found the episodes easy enough to ignore most of the time, until they were happening. Luckily, after he graduated and his mom won the election, they seemed to stop one and for all. His life was finding some sense of normalcy again, even though it was not the normal life most people had, and that seemed to stop them.

He never told anyone.

Ever.

Fast forward nearly ten years later.

The leak.

READ ON AO3

[lacrymatoryao3]

Redemption Was Just The Beginning

Chapter 12: February, 1900

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11]

To the world, Arthur Morgan is dead. As he tries to face the idea, in a lush valley in Ambarino he comes face to face with a woman from his past, and they must reckon with an era long gone. Especially when she has secrets of her own.

(Rated explicit simply because eventually there’s smut in this.)

Tag: @photo1030

2,468 Words (AO3 Link)

The weekend that Ana’s birthday fell on was ironically the coldest days of the winter. She made it clear, more than once, she didn’t want anything special. It didn’t matter to her. It was just the day she became another year older. Arthur could relate. He hadn’t paid much attention to his own in many years, He didn’t even really know the day any longer. Sometime in July, from what Ana had told him. He supposed the trip up to the mountains for Arthur Francisco to get his moose, though he was willing to settle for an elk if they couldn’t track the former, was special enough for her.

Every breath Arthur took while outside burned, as if the air was turning his lungs into ice. He trudged to the shelter attached to the stables where the wagon was stored, missing the West more and more with every step. The deserts there were just as unforgiving, sometimes with the dust storms that were as terrible as the blizzards, but there he wouldn’t be freezing his balls off. Worse, it was going to be several more hours dealing with the weather once they were on the trails.

The radiant heat from the stable stoves made his work bearable. The wagon needed its cover put back on before he loaded it so their cargo wouldn’t freeze quite as fast or be blanketed by snow kicked up from the wheels. He started by taking the hoops off the wall, five strong but thin wood arches bent into a U shape. He inserted them deeply into the slots along the edges of the wagon’s walls on both sides. He then drug a large and heavy canvas into the wagon, draping it over each hoop until the wagon bed was completely enclosed. He jumped out and tied the canvas in place on nails pounded into the outside walls until it was tight and unmoving.

He went into the stable and brought out two strong Dark Bay Shires. He put on their collars and myriad of straps before finally attaching them by the neck to the wagon’s yoke. Then, he went back in to tack Josefina, Delfina, and a Bay Frame Overo Criollo yearling that was Ana’s substitute for Enrique – he was too old to handle the long and arduous journey. He hitched them to rings on the sides of the wagon, climbing into the seat and slowly maneuvering to the front of the house.

Arthur Francisco had carried the crates of provisions they needed to survive only a few days in a remote hunting cabin. The boy seemed immune to the cold, just sitting there making sure his gun was ready. Arthur envied him as he shivered taking the crates one after another and shoving them into the back. There was enough food to last longer than they intended to be there, and utensils for cooking and eating. There was good, thick bedrolls and pillows and blankets. There was also various tools the cabin didn’t provide. It made him question how they were even going to fit a large animal with them, but he tried to arrange them in a way so there was enough room.

“Has your mama come back yet?” Arthur asked the boy. He hadn’t seen Ana all morning after breakfast. She had to speak with Mr. Liang to make sure everything was perfectly arranged for him to take over while they were gone.

“She’s in the kitchen.” Arthur Francisco replied.

Arthur sighed with relief going into the house. He took a moment to warm himself up by the fire, then going to the kitchen and get another hot cup of coffee.

Ana had her back turned at the counter of the Hoosier cabinet counter, making sandwiches for the ride. Arthur stopped dead in his tracks in the entryway. He blinked hard. The way she was dressed was something he had never witnessed her in before. Wrapped around her head and shoulders partially covering a dark green, cable knit Donegal sweater was one of her colorful shawls. That wasn’t what stunned him. Instead of a skirt she wearing a pair of pants, decorated on the outward sides of the legs with silver, bow shaped conchos. It wasn’t the fact she was wearing them. He had seen plenty of women in various styles of them before. What changed his demeanor was how tight they were. They hugged her form, accentuating her thighs and backside that had become wider and larger than what they used to be. His eyes traced every curve up and down. It triggered a spark in his brain, rekindling a long dormant flame that burned through him and settled in his lower abdomen.

It took all he had to restrain himself, to control his more primal impulses. His instinct was to walk up to her and grab her, knead her fabric covered flesh. He imagined how soft she felt. It made the heat travel a little lower than he was comfortable with. He shut his eyes for a moment, shaking his head rapidly to knock the thought of molesting her out of his brain. It was wrong to be looking at her the way he was, like a piece of meat and he was a starved dog. He averted his gaze the best he could, going to the kettle and getting the coffee he wanted. Holding the cup, he found he was trembling slightly. He didn’t like that either, the smallest thing working him up.

“I… Don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that.” Arthur managed to mumble.

Ana turned and held their lunches bundled in warmed cloths, “Oh! You’re right! I learned the hard way trudging through snow in a skirt is a terrible idea.”

Arthur swallowed to keep his voice steady, “Think you’ll be warm enough?”

“They’re fur lined.” Ana said, “So I should be fine. Is everything ready?”

“Yes, ma’am. Waitin’ on you.”

Ana gave him the bundles, “I just need to get my coat and hat on. I won’t be long.”

Arthur went back outside to wait for her. Being re-shocked by the cold helped him calm down some. He shoved the bundles through the small hole in the canvas at the back, which Arthur Francisco had closed up when he climbed in. Arthur got into the driver’s seat when Ana joined, climbing up beside him with a quilt that covered both of their legs.

The wheels started to go deeper into the snow as they started to descend upwards into the mountain. Arthur allowed himself to go deeper into distracting thoughts, but they weren’t pleasant ones. He kept being reminded of the mad dash after the disaster at Blackwater. They had taken a long and confusing route. It was an attempt to throw lawmen, bounty hunter, and the Pinkertons off their trail. It succeeded until the spring blizzard hit them, slowing them down. Arthur had barely slept when that happened, being constantly on guard until it was too much for his injured Boadicea. He had to leave the poor, beloved horse’s body somewhere around Tempest Rim.

Then they suffered when young Jenny Kirk died and they had to stop to give her a proper burial near where Spider Gorge flowed from the glacier. All the while Davey Callander was fading faster and faster. At first it appeared he would possibly live when Dutch sent him ahead to find somewhere to rest for a while, and maybe find John and Micah along the way who went some time before him, with Charles’s horse Taima he let Arthur borrow.

If he had been a religious man he’d have said the discovery of the abandoned mining town of Colter was a Godsend. Being in those slowly rotting, drafty, and creaking structures was much better than being battered out in the open. Arthur didn’t expect where they were going to was going to be like that, but he still felt a twinge of those ghosts coming to meet him.

Halfway up the mountain there was a large board nailed to a tree with a message painted by hand in black. It was so weather beaten Arthur had to stop and get down to read it. The sign was just a large slab of untreated plywood. What it once said was something along the lines of: ‘TOWN – ABOUT 8 MILES BEHIND. CABIN – ABOUT 8 MILES AHEAD. APPROVED GUESTS ONLY! OWNER LIVES 3 MILES NORTHWEST OF CABIN’.

It was a good place to rest anyway. From there on the path was only getting steeper upwards for another 2 hours. There everyone answered the calls of nature. When they finished and washed their hands with the snow they gathered back into the wagon and ate their sandwiches. Despite the hours in the chill they were still semi-warm, just two thin slices of bread filled with a thick mixture of shredded chicken and hard boiled egg seasoned with curry powder and a paste made of spiced stewed tomatoes.

It was enough to keep them going the rest of the way, which became considerably slower as the snow piled up higher and higher. The wheels creaked threateningly and the horses – even the ones that weren’t hauling the wagon – complained loudly every few minutes. Arthur looked around, hoping he was going the right direction. In the forest be found a billow of smoke rising above the trees. As he drove closer, the trail led them into a clearing next to a mostly frozen river. Sitting on a high stone foundation to avoid snow piling up against it was the cabin. It was small and primitive, but looked sufficient for a weary traveler. It had the outhouse not too far, connected by a covered walkway, and a stable to shelter the horses and wagon from the harsh elements.

Arthur got as close to the recently cleared stairs as he could. They could finally stretch their legs more while carrying everything inside. It was a small space. There was only enough room for a dining table, a dry sink, a table counter and a single cabinet above it on the wall. To cook Ana would need to use the fireplace. The only place to sleep was a loft, only accessible by a narrow ladder. Everything was for necessity, not for comfort.

Ana started adding more logs to the fire. She pulled out some cans from one of the crates and picking out what type of pot to cook with. Arthur Francisco was tasked with putting their bedrolls into the loft, giving Ana and Arthur a moment alone, which was to be a rare occasion with the trip.

She motioned to him to come closer to her, “Do you feel up to taking Arthur Francisco fishing in the river? There’s good salmon in there.”

“I suppose.” Arthur replied.

Ana reached into a hidden pocket in her coat. He didn’t realize she had brought the two photos from her desk with her. When she gave them to him, he knew what she wanted him to do.

“I think it’s time.” She said, “However you feel like doing it.”

Arthur took a deep breath. He climbed halfway up the ladder to call for Arthur Francisco, who came down and eagerly grabbed the fishing equipment. He went out ahead to look for a good spot along the river that had visible flowing water. When Arthur joined him, he made a fire to keep at least some of the cold away.

Arthur Francisco baited both rods. He crouched in the snow, casting his. In the ice he could see fish swimming around. He set his sights on the large salmon. There were other species who also became interested in the bait, and interesting thing Arthur Francisco did was flick the line a few times to scare them away.

Arthur didn’t have a system like the boy did. He didn’t see himself as a good fisherman, but he also wasn’t terrible at it. He managed to be more successful with it the year before. He managed to start teaching Isaac many years ago. He taught Jack Marston, though the little boy wasn’t old enough to have the attention span for very long. Arthur simply cast the line as far as it would go, making a quick jolt of the line and waited.

Either way, it took a little while until one of them got a bite. Arthur Francisco’s method was more successful, or he had more patience than Arthur. From the clear icy water they watched a Sockeye nibble at his line, before taking a bite that hooked him. Arthur Francisco stood, pulling the rod upward and pulling it in the opposite direction of the struggling fish. When it became exhausted, he reeled it in. Inspecting it the salmon was a good weight and maturity, at least 5 pounds. The head was a green and gray with orange eyes, and the rest of its body a bright red.

Arthur patted the boy on the back, “Good job! Your mama will be very happy with that!”

Arthur Francisco laid the fish in the snow and went over to warm himself by the fire. Putting his rod away, Arthur decided it was now or never to talk to him. He sat down on a tree stump and took out the photos from Ana.

“Hey, Arthur…” He said gently, “Come here for a minute. I need to tell you somethin’.”

He waited until Arthur Francisco sat next to him and continued, “Now, I ain’t good with all this, but your mother and I were talkin’ about it for a while. We decided it was time for you to know about your father.”

He showed Arthur Francisco the pictures and explained them the best he could.

“You mother and I lost our parents when we were pretty young. So, to get by we ended up doin’ some pretty bad things. It took me longer to get out of them than her. Durin’ the time these were taken we had been in a relationship of sorts. A couple of years later she got pregnant with you and decided to leave to give you a better life than we had. She did a damn fine job of it too.”

He braced himself for whatever reaction the boy could have. He could see the gears turning in Arthur Francisco’s mind through his eyes as he gazed at the photos, piecing together that the man in them with Ana and the man sitting with him was indeed his father.

Arthur Francisco looked at him, “Really?”

Arthur nodded, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you growin’ up. I want to make up for it… Do better… If you want that.”

Arthur Francisco jumped up and threw his arms around Arthur. He took it as an acceptance from the boy.

[imtrashraccoon]

Could you spare some lore of one of your stories? Oh Please!

Or perhaps, in your nightmare story, is there any bad Sanses?

Of course! This is barely a question because I am all too willing to give a mini info dump or two!

Lore of one of my stories!

Pretty much all the long fics I have written so far have a heavy focus on the reader's soul. Why? I'm not sure myself, I think I just really like the concept of physical souls and how they'd be unique for everyone.

In The Hand We've Been Dealt, Rihanna died because she had a human soul and later, as Korinna, Gaster gave her a monster soul for her new shot at life. Her human soul still exists...suspended in stasis until the barrier is broken but when I get to writing that part of the story, I have special plans for it.

In Have Some Empathy, Dear, the Bad Sans' were all drawn to Minty because she was kind and was able to empathize with the hardships they'd been through. This led to Nightmare rescuing her when her world finally broke down. (Not sure if this is original to me but her soul trait was Empathy, a variant of Kindness.)

In The Nightmare of Apathy, Aylin's soul is a major plot point but there's not a whole ton I can explain without spoiling the first arc. She started out as a Perseverance soul but will things stay that way? (Gonna post chapter 5 in the coming days which might provide more insight.) Let's just say that I'm exploring another possibly unique soul trait.

Now that was probably kinda boring so I will also drop a bit of lore for the Underfell fic that I will eventually get around to posting, I swear!

It takes place in the early 2000's after Monsterkind have been on the surface for at least ten years. Humans don't trust Monsters and so have attempted to create a weapon to defend against them. Crimson (Sans) kidnaps a random woman he found running through the woods in the middle of the night in a blizzard, much to Scar's (Papyrus) dismay. They soon realize they can't kick her out since she has nowhere to go and is fleeing her past. Which leads to a comfy story taking place in the countryside where nothing bad happens! Sorry, I lied, this is angst with a love triangle...

Are the Bad Sans' in The Nightmare of Apathy?

Yes! Not until Arc 2 though. I gotta expand on Nightmare and Aylin's eventual relationship first! Although, someone who I consider to be an honourary member, depending what fics you read of course, is making an appearance starting in the next chapter! Gonna do my best to post it this week!

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 1: Snowland Legend

Narrated by Perlin.

Narrator: "Yunikina fulfilled Eagle's dying wish and founded the Snow Eagle Revolutionary Force."

Narrator: "The Snow Eagles overthrew the merciless tyrant of White Rock City to usher in a new era."

Narrator: Though it can be summed up in a few sentences, the true story is much more than that.

Choose "Who is it?"

You: Who's speaking?

Narrator: Oh, hello. I'm a military history student at the North Kingdom Military Academy. You can call me Perlin.

Narrator: And it's just another day where I'm trapped in the library writing my final thesis.

Narrator: As you can see, it's about Yunikina and the Snow Eagles.

Narrator: Well, everyone's left and curfew is approaching, so it's another all-nighter for me. Since there's no way I can finish it today, we might as well chat.

Narrator: I planned to finish the part on Yunikina's background, but didn't expect to get stuck.

You: What do you mean?

Narrator: Many of the stories before Yunikina came to White Rock City cannot be factually verified.

You: ...What do you mean by that?

Narrator: It means they're just hearsay. No records, documents, or texts for proof.

Narrator: Whether Yunikina's supposed hometown even exists, for example, is dubious.

Narrator: Allegedly, she was born in a normal, peaceful village, which accidentally got caught between two major rival factions and was wiped out in the conflict.

Narrator: But at that time, any city-state with power declared war on one another constantly. There was no peace to speak of.

Narrator: Therefore, it's hard to believe a place straight out of a fairy tale like that could even exist.

Narrator: And without a name, no expedition could pinpoint or discover any remains.

Narrator: By the way, her armor and the sword she carried are called "Ode of Frosty Sword" and "Sword of Legend" respectively.

Narrator: They are thought to be the reason for her invincibility and had been with her ever since her first battle.

Narrator: The former kept her safe from all harm, and the latter granted her unmatched power.

Narrator: To have been at war for so long and remain undefeated, however, just sounds impossible. Even the famous Zoey of North Kingdom suffered defeats, though those were only minor blemishes on her magnificent record.

Narrator: The majority of the student body at my school worships her, myself included.

Narrator: In comparison, Yunikina's flawless victories just seem unbelievable.

Narrator: Of course, those legendary artifacts of hers are nowhere to be found.

Narrator: People have tried to replicate the armor from the information and few images we do have, but never managed to recreate the feel of eternal frost.

Narrator: Others have searched for the sword, only to be lost in the blizzard, never to return.

You: So, do you plan to include the unsolved mysteries in your thesis?

Narrator: No. Despite the arduous task, there have been breakthroughs in the past few years. Check out this report.

You: "Yunikina's Hometown Revealed? Will The Snow-Buried Settlement See The Light Again?"

Narrator: I'll keep a close eye on it for more relevant scholarly information.

Narrator: It says here that archaeologists discovered a snowy plain in the northwest and surmised it to be habitable in Yunikina's time.

You: Does that mean they found her hometown?

Narrator: We can't say for sure.

Narrator: In addition, as more research is done on her military tactics and leadership, the mystique surrounding the armor and the sword fades with time.

Narrator: Even so, more people still choose to see her as a warring goddess of wind, born from ice and snow.

Narrator: "To the snowy plain, she is a gift from the heavens, donning armor made of ice and wielding a legendary sword that cuts through anything. She is destined to bring freedom and peace to the land."

Narrator: The quote doesn't belong in the thesis, but who wouldn't be moved by such a description?

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[blizzard202]

Standing Still

Hi reader, welcome to Standing Still!

This story is the complete narrative of the two characters created by Blizzard (@blizzard202) and Axol (@alien8tdd/@no-i-wanna-go-down)

The protagonists of this story are two Newsies named Raymond (Nicknamed Blizzard) and Archie (Nicknamed Pup).

Raymond was created by Blizzard, and Archie was created by Axol. We both write chapters together as co-writers.

Chapter One - Archie

It feels like only moments ago when Archie and Ashton Larkson’s parents passed. The two children never received the details on how it happened. The police never care enough about anything when it comes to poor people. And just like that the 15 and 13 year old boys were kicked to the streets. All they can do to get by now is beg and steal.

It’s late, Archie knows that as he’s dragged by his brother through the streets. All he can register is that his brother has stolen a loaf of bread and now they’re being chased by around eight scary-looking men. 

“Get back here, you rat-bastards!” One of them shouts. Archie’s feet drag against the cobblestone and ache terribly. Shops and people fly by in a blur. He thinks he can feel tears sting at his eyes, but he fights them back. Don’t be a sissy. Ashton’s voice echoes in his mind.

They turn a few corners. He can hear his brother swear under his breath. The grip on his wrist disappears before he hits the ground. Hard. There’s a sharp, ringing pain in his head. He blinks up at the scary men. They grab his arms, though a few others continue to chase Ashton. Before Archie can do anything, his vision fades to black.

When Archie wakes, he’s in some sort of cell. Alone. Everything aches. He can feel dried, crusty blood on the back of his neck, on his shoulders and clothes and… where is he? He shivers. It’s cold. His stomach grumbles madly. How long has it been since he’s eaten? How long was he knocked out for? His head hurts. Everything does.

He looks around once more. There doesn’t seem to be a way out. There’s no toilet. He thinks he can see something move in the shadows. Archie inches towards whatever it is. It is, in fact, a rat. He lets out a yelp and it immediately scurries back off into the shadows. 

All Archie can do is tuck himself into the corner of this cold, dark room, curl up on his side like a dog and close his eyes. He fights back tears.

What did I do wrong? Why did all of this have to happen? First ma and pa are gone and now…Archie doesn’t fall asleep for a long, long time. When he does, it’s a light, dreamless sleep, often interrupted by the scurrying of rats or the footsteps of more scary men like the ones that took him here. But he sleeps. Barely.

Chapter Two - Raymond

Raymond is sitting in the break room of his job, eating his dinner. He works as a cleaner at a tailor’s shop down the street from Jacobi’s Deli, where he bought a ham sandwich with the 3 cents he made on his job that day. Almost 9:00. He thinks, glancing at the clock on the wall every couple of seconds.

12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2… He springs up from his seat, locks up the doors of the shop, and makes his way down the road, dodging carriages and newsboys walking back to their lodging houses. He accidentally nicks a kid’s hat off when shooting his wrapper into the garbage can.

“Ay’ whaddya think you’re doin’?” The kid seems much too old to be a newsie, probably in his 20s at that point.

“Look, I’m sorry, you don’t gotta make a big deal about it.” Raymond says. The new face is slightly shorter than him, red hair, he looks tougher than Raymond though.

“It is MY first day on my job wit’ The Bronx newsies, and I don’t need you ruinin’ it, dipwad!” The guy takes a swing, Raymond dodges and trips him, making him fall flat on his back. He starts running. Wasn’t planning on dyin’ today. 

Raymond looks back to see that he isn’t being chased, but he doesn’t look where he’s going, and bumps into an old woman, knocking her over. Luckily, he catches her and puts her back on her feet.

“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! Are you alright ma’am?”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking. I know it was an accident, it’s ok, things happen.” The two chat for a bit, then go their separate ways. That could’ve been way worse. 

Suddenly, a man dressed in clothes not seeming to fit the streets of Manhattan. “Excuse me child, do you not see what you just did?” The mysterious man asked.

“Yes? I was runnin’ too fast and I accidentally bumped into a lady. Luckily I picked her up before she could hit the ground! She’s alright, I made sure-”

“That isn’t what I saw.” The man tells Raymond.

“Whaddya mean?” Raymond asks.

“What I think just happened was an attempted murder. Don’t you know how old that woman is? If she hit the ground, she would have perished the second she came face-to-face with that concrete. Luckily, you noticed that people were around, and played it off as some kind of accident.”

“What? You’re bein’ ridiculous! Why would I try to kill some poor old lady?” Raymond is flabbergasted, confused about what is entering his ears.

“I don’t know, why would you? OFFICERS! TAKE HIM AWAY!”

“What? What are you doin’!? I- Get offa me! Stop! I didn’t do nothin’!” 

“Exactly kid. You didn’t do nothing, a double negative.” 

“What did I do to you to deserve this? Why are you being so mean?!” 

“Because I can. Wow! Two new inmates in one hour! We’re going to have a drink tonight boys!”

Great. Now I’m gonna rot in a cell because some ass thinks that capturing kids to put in your jail is just a fun game. He sits in a holding cell, feeling hopeless, until he looks to his side, and spots something in the corner. Another boy, about his age, maybe a year younger, curled up. He’s asleep. His curly, copper hair is tainted with a bit of blood, and there’s a small sort of gash in his head that’s barely visible through the thick curls.

Chapter 3 - Archie

When Archie wakes again, a pair of dark eyes are peering back at him. He uncurls himself and presses against the cold wall of the strange, small room. The dull ache in his head is still there. His eyes take a moment to focus on the other boy. 

“Wha… who?” Archie’s speech is barely comprehensible as he slowly regains his senses. The other boy greets him.

“Hello? Are you ok?” The brown-haired boy’s concerned voice rings through the small room. It takes a few moments for Archie to even register what he said.

“I’m.. fine. Who- Who are you?” Archie tilts his head slightly and squints. It occurs to him that maybe he should introduce himself. 

Be polite, like Ma always said. “I’m Archie.” He offers a small, weak smile in an attempt to come off as friendly despite his situation.

The other boy blinks. “My name’s Raymond. You in here for somethin’ stupid too?” 

Archie winces. Something stupid? Sort of. He’d have to explain everything to this stranger, and from experience Archie knows it’s hard for him to stop talking once he starts. It’d be embarrassing to just spill his guts right here.

Don’t overthink. “Yeah, I guess so… do ya know where ‘here’ is?” Archie’s voice waivers a bit more than he’d prefer. He doesn’t want to seem weak. Raymond glances around.

“Seems like a prison? Dunno. I didn’t do anythin’ besides bump inta an old lady.” Raymond’s eyes land on the blood. 

“Are you ok? You’re definitely hurt… C’mere.” Archie hesitates before inching closer. Raymond pulls him the rest of the way and uses a hand to tilt Archie’s head downwards and to the side. It’s an awkward but not uncomfortable angle.

Raymond lets out a concerned “hm,” Archie can feel gentle fingers against his hair, seemingly clearing the way so his wound is more visible. Raymond’s fingers graze the raw, injured skin, which prompts Archie to suck in a sharp breath. He hasn’t been treated so gently since… well, since before his parents died. He’d received no such treatment from his brother.

Archie finds himself so lost in his thoughts that when Raymond pulls away, he takes a moment to open his eyes. He hadn’t even realized they were closed in the first place. 

“How bad does it hurt?” Raymond asks. It takes a short moment for Archie to reply. 

“Not… horribly? I’m bad with words. It’s like background noise but pain. Background pain.” Raymond laughs wryly, though he still looks concerned.

“What if you have a concussion or somethin’?” Ashton would have replied with a snarky, sarcastic reply. Archie doesn’t want to be like his brother, he’s realized that now. 

“I’m not sure… I’ll be fine, though. Uhm.. are you hurt at all?” Archie tilts his head. His eyes gleam with concern.

Raymond shakes his head. “I’m ok.” Archie is thankful Raymond hasn’t asked anything more about how he got here. As much as Archie would like the relief of crying into someone’s arms, he doesn’t want to scare this boy off. An awkward yet peaceful silence envelops the two. Archie ponders what Raymond could be thinking, and who Raymond is outside of this cold, dark cell. 

Chapter 4 - Raymond

After a while, Archie starts explaining his story while Raymond creates a makeshift bandage by ripping off a piece of Archie’s shirt. Raymond has tried, and failed, to convince Archie to let him use his own shirt. 

“Thanks.” He says quietly. Raymond paces his way around, kicking a pebble around the cell, until he gets bored and slumps down against the wall next to Pup.

The two are sitting next to each other against the wall of the cell. A black, furry rat darts towards them but skitters the other way when it gets too close. Archie yelps loudly. Raymond snickers faintly, it’s a bit funny how timid Archie is, even if Raymond is concerned for the other boy. Raymond looks over to his left. 

“They’re just rats...” He says gently. There is a hint of amusement in his voice. Archie glances away and folds his arms. 

“But theys gonna bite me and I’ll get a disease!” He retorts. Raymond thinks he can see a hint of a smile on his face, though. 

“Just don’t bother them. They’re probably more afraid of you than you are of them.” Raymond places a hand on Archie’s shoulder. Archie smiles and looks back at Raymond, but his eyes still flicker back to the shadows every once and a while. 

After a few minutes, footsteps can be heard down what could be a hallway. The door opens. “Hey kids, you fellas gotta get in the room, boss says so.” A guard that seemed way too tired to work tells the two. He leads the two to a large room with about twenty sets of bunk beds. “There, that’s where you’re gonna sleep.” The man points at a bottom bunk. 

“…Which one?” Pup asks. 

The guard chuckles. “Are ya serious? Just be glad you aren’t in a three-kid bed!” The officer walks away, still chuckling to himself. 

“LIGHTS OUT!” The warden yells an hour later. 

Alrighty… Raymond thinks to himself. The two find themselves over to their bed after a while, they get affiliated with a couple other kids in the block: James, a young teen who didn't have a pinky finger, and Clippers, who said he does haircuts for kids who can’t afford them. Blizzard feels a little uncomfortable in the rock-solid mattress, but after a while, he eventually falls asleep.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 30: New York Christmas Serenade (3/4)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1825

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 31 32

New York Christmas Serenade (pt. 3 of 4)

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

“Mom!  Wake up!” Henry said, shaking her shoulder.  “It’s Christmas morning!”

Emma groaned as she woke up.  It was early.  Way too early.  By the look of the sky from her bedroom window, it would still be Christmas morning for another several hours yet.  It could barely even be called dawn.

“Alright, Kid, I’m up,” she said on a yawn, reaching for her robe and slippers.  “I know you’re all about opening the rest of your presents, but you’re going to have to wait for the coffee to brew.  You know I’m not awake before I’ve had my first two cups.”

“Don’t worry about that!” Henry said, “Killian already made coffee.  Now he’s working on breakfast.”

Emma froze.  Killian.  How had she forgotten the handsome stranger was still there?

Not long after Henry opened his gifts, Emma had glanced out the window to see it snowing with a vengeance.  Turning on the TV, she quickly found out why.  They were in the opening stages of a monster blizzard.

Emma shot Killian a concerned look.  “You have a place to stay?” she asked.  “Your home close?”

“I’m afraid not, love,” Killian said.  “I’ve yet to secure lodgings for myself.  It’s no matter, though.  I’ve weathered many a storm.”

The thought of turning him out into the blizzard had seemed beyond heartless.  Who let a guest of theirs go out and freeze to death in a blizzard?  Particularly one her son seemed to have an inexplicable bond with—especially after getting that storybook?  Particularly one she felt such a tie to. 

“Look,” she’d said stiffly.  “It’s nasty out there.  If you want, you can crash on our couch.  Can’t guarantee it’s the most comfortable bed you’ll ever sleep on, but it’s bound to be better than wandering around on the streets of New York in the middle of a blizzard, right?”

His eyes had lit up as though she’d offered him the best gift of his life.  “It would be an honor to sleep on your couch, Swan,” he’d said in wonder.  “You’ve no idea how much it means to me that you’ve offered.”

Now, in the (still barely there) light of day, Emma began to second guess her magnanimous gesture.  What did she even know about this Killian guy really?  What kind of a mother lets a strange guy—who could be a serial killer for all she knew—crash on her couch with her son in the apartment.

You’re safe with him.  He’d never harm you.

Now where had that thought come from?  It made no sense that she’d know that, but somehow she could feel the truth of the statement all the way to her bones.  Killian Jones was no threat to her or to Henry.

(Well…except perhaps to her heart.  Only one night in the man’s company—one very platonic night—and she could already feel herself falling for him.  What was with her?  Emma Swan did not get crushes like that!  She had her heart locked up as tightly as Fort Knox.  No way she lets feelings in!)

Emma took a tentative step from her bedroom and couldn’t help the groan of appreciation that escaped her.  It smelled amazing out there.  Coffee—strong coffee from the scent of it—percolating, bacon sizzling, pancakes on the griddle.  She took it back.  Not only was Killian no threat to her, she may have to just invite him to live with the two of them.

“Morning love,” He called with a cheery smile—how did he look that chipper after only getting a few hours of sleep on a lumpy sofa?  “I trust you slept well?”

“What little amount of time the kid let me sleep,” she said on a yawn.  “He’s lucky it’s Christmas or no way I’d let him get away with waking me up at the butt crack of dawn.”

Killian chuckled.  “No I suppose not.  I know full well a man is taking his life in his hands when he wakes you.  There was one morning on Never…er…I mean…you look like someone who enjoys her sleep.”

“Nice recovery,” Henry said under his breath.  “Making her think you’re crazy is definitely not how you make headway with Operation Captain Swan.”

“Never?  Operation Captain Swan?” Emma asked in bewilderment.  “What are the two of you talking about?  How do you know my sleeping habits?  And when did you and Henry suddenly become best friends? ”

“Not to worry, Swan,” Killian said, scratching away at that spot on his neck again.  “This morning the lad merely told me that the way to your heart is through your stomach.”

“The way to my…Are you…are you saying you want to get to my heart?” No way she was telling him that very organ was pounding so hard at the very notion she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

In a blink Killian’s embarrassment faded away to be replaced by pure flirtatious mischief.  “Oh darling.  You have no idea,” he purred.

She held his gaze for as long as she could (which…ended up being less than five seconds), and then she hid behind her favorite defense—sarcasm.  “Yeah, well, you gonna take that bacon out of the pan or just let it burn while you act like an idiot?”

He shot her a wounded look.  “Of course I had no intention of burning your victuals, Swan!  It took me quite some time to determine the proper way to utilize your cooking box, and now that I have, I have no intention of ruining a perfectly good breakfast.”

“It’s called a stove, Hook,” Henry muttered under his breath.

Seriously, when did the two of them become all buddy-buddy?  And where was this guy from that he didn’t even know what a stove was?

She had no further time to ponder the big questions of her life, though, as Killian slid a plate of food and a mug of coffee in her direction.  At the first bite, Emma moaned in ecstasy.  The man could cook.

Looking up, she caught the positively sinful look in Killian’s eye.  “I quite like that sound Darling.  Perhaps I might endeavor to elicit it once more…sometime when we’re alone.”

“La, la, la,” Henry said, sticking his fingers in his ears.  “Kid in the room guys!”

Emma felt her face flame, so she did the only reasonable thing, she turned a withering glare at the idiot in leather currently seated at the head of the table.  “In your dreams Jones.”

“You have no idea.”

Emma glared again, expecting to see the same sinful look in his eyes, but what she found instead floored her.  Pure, unvarnished longing.  It was the look of a man desperately in love.  One who feared he’d never have a chance with the girl of his dreams.

The look called to her, and she suddenly had the insane urge to reach over, grab his hand and reassure him that he would find happiness one day.

Fortunately her hand closest to Killian was currently occupied shoveling as much food as possible into her mouth.

Breakfast was a short affair, eaten hastily.  While Henry was normally a pretty patient kid, waiting to open presents on Christmas morning would test the patience of any kid.

“Why don’t you go get your presents organized,” Emma said, getting to her feet.  “I’ll just take care of these dishes and I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Nonsense, Swan,”  Killian said with a hand to her arm…a soft pat that felt almost like a caress.  “Go have Christmas morning with your son.  I’m perfectly capable of righting the galley.”

“You sure?  I hate to have you cook breakfast and then stick you with dishes too.”

“Aye,” he said with a tender smile.  “Believe me when I say your happiness…yours and your lad’s…ensure my happiness.”

She smiled, impulsively reaching over and squeezing his hand.  “Thanks.”

“You are most welcome.”

The following hour passed in a veritable blur, Henry moving from present to present.  She supposed maybe she spoiled him with all the Christmas gifts she’d gotten him, but he was such a good kid and so genuinely grateful for everything he got.  And then, of course, there was always that little lost girl inside of her that would never forget what it was like to wake up on Christmas morning to a bare tree and a lack of family.  If it made her go a little overboard with her kid…that was just the way it was.

Just as the last gift—a brand new journal and gel pen (the kid liked to write)—was unwrapped, the couch seat beside her sagged, and Emma looked over to see Killian by her side.  Not only by by her side, but close enough she could feel the heat of his body against her.  It was…distracting to say the least.

“Um…” she said, clearing her throat and trying not to sound like a complete fool, “I guess that’s it.  The gifts are all unwrapped.”

“Not quite, Swan,” he said in a low, caressing voice.  “I’ve one yet to bestow on you.”

“Me?” she asked.  “You got me a gift?”

“Aye,” he said with a nod, turning away to rummage through his satchel once again.  I saw this and thought of you.”

“Th…thank you,” she said, taking the long, thin velvet-covered box he held out to her.  Opening it, she found a diamond and opal pendant in the shape of a swan attached to a fine, silver chain.  It was gorgeous.

“I know you don’t remember, love,” he said softly, “but this pendant reminds me of our first adventure…one of the most satisfying adventures of my life, and it belongs with no one but you.”

“The beanstalk!:” Henry said from his place on the floor, still surrounded by his Christmas loot.  “It reminds you of the beanstalk.”

“Aye,” Killian said.  “That it does indeed.”

It should have been completely nonsensical this conversation her son was having with her…pirate (No!  Not her pirate!), but somehow it simply wasn’t.  Something deep within her wanted to nod along and agree with them.

Before she could second guess herself, Emma leaned over and impulsively hugged Killian.  “Thanks!  I love it.  And…I mean, it’s still snowing out there.  If you, you know, want to keep crashing on the couch for the next few days, I’m okay with that.”

Notes:  I wanted to give Emma’s perspective on the things going on, but unfortunately, that didn’t give me an opportunity to show any post-memory gain conversations between Henry and Killian—or explain what Henry meant by “Operation Captain Swan”.  Don’t worry, all will be revealed in the fourth (and last) section of this little story.

–Up next: We learn what kind of plots Emma’s boys have hatched to help her remember—and whether or not they’re successful.  As New Year’s Eve arrives, Henry tells Killian about a certain midnight-on-New-Year’s-Eve tradition in the Land Without Magic.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[team-heavenly]

Chapter 22 - Part 5

A correction to the previous part:

Part 1 (F*ck You)

Part 2 (You)

Part 23 (Un-Primals)

Part 34 (your)

Part 45 (Dialga)

GET JUMP-SCARED, IDIOTS!

...Oh my god, Buizel rose from the grave and evolved just so he could get revenge on Team Heavenly. Which, fair tbh.

NO, THIS CERTAINLY ISN'T THEIR HOME! Although at this point, I'm just glad my "Koffing and Weezing" prediction didn't pan out, or else this would be...awkward.

Onix really just went:

Here's a snippet from the fight (incoming partial voice reveal 😳):

(Er... this video looked much cleaner when I uploaded it... Sorry for the blurry text T-T)

As you can see, this shows the two most important parts of the battle:

Anorith THROWING HANDS

Anorith confusing the heck out of everyone with a silly little dance

Click here to watch the sequential scene because I was NOT editing another 70 screenshots, thankyouverymuch >.>

* * *

"And so Team Heavenly, which had successfully climbed to the Sky Peak Cloudy Well Summit, thanked Onix graciously and returned to Treasure Town Nautical Cottage. And on the evening of that day, there was a huge party at Rotom's Cafe. Everyone stayed up until dawn, discussing the exploration..."

...Wait, we haven't heard from Pichu, have we?

*You hear the faint sound of a trumpet playing Taps in the distance*

All in all though... Not a terrible time! All that's left is to get the treasure boxes open, stash the cash, consume some Gummis, and check out a few new recruits we picked up along the way.

OH HELL YEAH!

At first I thought this was Tiny Meadow, but after some research it seems this was Lush Field. I tried looking up what a "Bend" is exactly, but all I got were results for Bend, Oregon. (Which apparently has the last Blockbuster store in the world?!)

Last but not least, I decided to test out the evolution system on one of our new buddies...

Yeah, so... Evolution is not randomized. The abilities and stats change, but that's all.

Whew... This took me so long to work on that Teresa and Andrea are both now level 54 from various odd jobs and the Poliwhirl Dojo (more on that next time!). Blizzard Island should be much easier to coast through, so hopefully it won't be nearly as long before a new update comes out.

Until then... Take care!

[kyojirokagenuma]

The Lost Twin Chapter One

When the missing and presumed dead Beth Washington is suddenly discovered alive a month later, no one knows what to think. There's no sign of Hannah, and Beth appears to have amnesia, remembering nothing of how she survived or where she had been. Her friends are overjoyed at her miraculous survival, but Beth remains haunted by the loss of her sister and scattered, horrifying images of her lost memories. She has Sam. She has Josh. Whether she'll be able to forgive the others remains to be seen.

Then Josh convinces everyone to return to the lodge in honor of Hannah. Beth must now revisit the site of her disappearance, and confront all the madness that comes with it.

Beth/Sam Pairing

"Only one way out. Only one way.”

-February 2nd, 2014, Sometime Around Midnight -

- Beth Washington, February 3rd, 2015, 5:48 a.m.

"What’s going on, where's my sister going?” Beth asked, pushing her way through the group. She reached the front and looked out into the woods, to see nothing. No Hannah. Visibility in this blizzard was next to zero. She turned to the others with a harsh glare. “What the hell did you guys do?”

“She's overreacting, it was just a little prank, Beth,” Mike shrugged.

“You know how upset she gets!” Beth screamed at him, and he took a startled step back.

“Beth, calm down.”

“Calm down? She could die out there, you asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Beth stepped forward and drove her fist into Mike’s stomach.

Mike hadn’t seen it coming. Every speck of air fled his lungs at once as he doubld over, his eyes wide in astonishment. Beth spun around, sprinting into the woods after her sister before Mike dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Hannah! Hannah!” Beth called out in desperation as she too vanished into the storm.

“Jesus, what the fuck,” Mike coughed, spitting in the snow.

“Damn, she got you real good, huh?” Matt asked with a grin while a few of the others snickered at his expense. He knelt down to see if he was okay.

“That girl hits fucking hard,” Mike said gasping.

Sam crossed her arms, looking unsympathetic. “You had that coming, dude.”

Beth ran into the blizzard after her fleeing sister. Hannah always had a history of behaving irrationally and getting herself into trouble. This wasn’t the first time Beth found herself running after her. She was never crazy enough to run into a damn blizzard before though. Beth held her hand in front of her face to shield her from the snow. She could hardly see a thing.

“Hannah! Hannah? Where are you, sis?” Beth called out.

No answer. All she could hear was the howling wind crashing against her own skin. It wasn’t long before Beth realized she wouldn’t grt far without getting lost herself.

“Fuck, this is not good,” said Beth to herself.

All she could do was keep going. She couldn’t turn back. She couldn’t leave her sister out here. If something happened to her, she’d never forgive herself.

“Hannah! Come on, Hannah! Please come out!”

Despite Beth’s begging, no response came. She trudged on, muscling her way through the snowstorm. She came to a choice between two paths. She cast her gaze down, spotting Hannah’s barely visible footprints in the snow. Headed left. Another few seconds and they'd have been completely covered.

“Hannah! Hannah?”

Still no answer.

Beth pressed on, fighting the frigid cold and stinging gusts of wind. If she didn’t find her soon, she didn’t know what she’d do. She was getting desperate, fearful that she would never see her sister again. She had to keep going. Her sister needed her. She called out one more time.

“Hannah? Hannah!”

“Beth?” came a weak, but audible reply.

Beth’s face lit up. “Hannah! Where are you?”

Beth just followed the sound of a young woman’s cries and sobs. “God, those assholes are gonna pay for this,” she mumbled to herself. “They’re so dead.”

As she neared the source of the noise, her sister’s silhouette came into view. “Hannah! Thank God.”

She took off running towards Hannah, throwing both arms around her. Hannah leaned forward, crying into her shoulder.

“Beth, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot,” she said through her sobs.

“It’s okay, Hannah. Really.”

“It’s not okay. I ran out here and made you chase me through a blizzard. I’m such a fuckup.”

“Come on, you must be cold,” Beth said, stripping off her own jacket and giving it to Hannah. “Let's get you back to the lodge, we ne-.”

A series of loud growls cut her off. Beth and Hannah spun around to see a pack of wolves coming straight for them, baring their teeth as they stalked their prey.

“Oh, shit!” Beth pulled Hannah back, trying to flee.

Hannah almost fell over, scrambling away. “Fuck!”

Neither realized they were right on the edge of a cliff until it was too late. The storm had cut off almost all visibility. Beth backed off the ledge, slipping on the icy rock face. She shot one hand forward and latched onto a root before she fell any further. Hannah came next, screaming and tumbling off the edge just as her sister did. Beth grabbed Hannah’s hand, holding onto to the root with one hand and her sister with the other.

“Hannah! Hold on!”

“Oh God, Beth! This is all my fault! We’re both gonna die because of me!” Hannah cried in despair.

“No one’s gonna die!”

The wolves were advancing, their growls growing louder. The sisters were cornered by predators, ready to fall to their deaths. Then they heard a strange noise. It sounded like fire. Like a blowtorch. The wolves suddenly began whimpering, and their presence faded. The next second, an unknown figure entered their view, looming over the both of them. A frightening masked man with a flamethrower on his back. Beth’s eyes widened in fear, only for the man to bend down, offering his open hand.

“That root won’t hold!” he yelled at them.

Beth looked down to her scared sister, then back up at the man. “I-I can’t! Help us up!”

“I can’t lift the both of you!”

Hannah’s face fell. She already knew, even if Beth didn’t. There was no way both of them were making it out of this. Only Beth had a chance, but not so long as she was holding on to her. Hannah had a choice to make, and to her, it wasn’t a hard one.

“Beth,” came Hannah’s voice from below.

Beth craned her head to look down at Hannah, dangling who knows how high in the harsh winds. “What? What is it?”

Hannah said nothing at first. She looked strangely calm. Resigned. Then she smiled.

“I love you, little sister. Please forgive me for this.”

Beth blinked. “What?”

Hannah reached upwards with her other hand, prying Beth’s fingers loose from her arm. A horrified Beth could only watch as her sister slipped from her grasp.

“Hannah! No!”

Hannah fell into a white void, plummeting out of view without a sound. Beth screamed loud enough for them both. Hannah was gone just like that, and Beth was in tears.

“Hannah! Hannah!"

Beth suddenly felt a hand reach down and grab her own, pulling the sobbing sister upwards. About half of Beth wanted him to just let her fall too. The stranger hoisted her to safety. As soon as she was on safe ground, she threw herself back against him. Back towards her sister. She cried and struggled in his grasp.

“Hannah! Hannah! Let me go! That’s my sister!”

The stranger pushed Beth away from the cliff and onto the ground. “Your sister’s gone, girl! You can either join her, or leave with me.”

Beth frowned, shaking in the cold snow. “I, I, can I trust you?”

“You don’t have a choice. Those things are on their way. They’re out in force tonight.”

“What, wolves?”

“No, worse. Come on.”

The man took Beth by the arm, pulling her along. Beth realized they were headed in the wrong direction.

“Wait, the lodge is the other way!”

“Your lodge isn’t safe. They’re swarming all over it. Follow me.”

Beth did as she was told, brushing the tears from her eyes as this man she didn’t know guided her further into the mountain wilderness. Behind her, she heard strange howls and shrieks echoing out. Nothing that sounded human. Or natural.

She almost didn’t care if she lived or died. Hannah was gone. Her sister. Gone. All over a stupid prank.

All Beth could do was hold out hope Hannah somehow survived the fall, and someone would come find her before it was too late. Hope for a miracle.

The impossible.

“My sister is dead,” Beth said in dismay, tears welling up again. “She’s dead!”

“Keep your damn voice down,” he hushed her. “Stay with me and you might just make it out of this alive.”

Beth squashed her cries, pressing on. She had to keep going. If not for herself, then for Hannah.

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Pokémon Reborn Screenshot Let's Play: Chapter 13

Hello again, readers! It is currently Spring Break for me, and though it’s not much of a break since I have a lot of schoolwork to take care of, it’s still enough for me to get progress done on this newest chapter a bit faster than I would have otherwise. It definitely helps when my health isn’t taking a strange, sudden downturn for seemingly no reason. Hopefully, my ability to make progress on these chapters will be even further improved in the future. Why is that? 

Well- recently, I figured out a better way to take these screenshots, one that…seems very common knowledge, and thus I am a fool for not knowing about it sooner, but we can’t go back in time to change anything, all I can do is tend to the future. Granted, I haven’t done this method yet, I don’t even know if it’ll work with Reborn or with my laptop- I don’t see why it wouldn’t, but with some of the bugs that have happened so far, who knows at this point. I’ll be testing it for my play session for Chapter 14 after this chapter is completed and posted, and if all goes well, that means progress should be much easier and faster from here on.

Until then, we still have this sequence to go through, and there’s still a Gym to challenge. But before we get into that, let’s go over what happened in the last chapter…though, admittedly, there really wasn’t a ton in terms of actual story stuff.

Xera visits the Onyx Arcade, finding many of the games are offline due to a mysterious system virus. She is also unable to play the other games because she lacks a Coin Case.

Xera’s Noibat is named Decibel and has always been named Decibel, most certainly.

Xera enters the Onyx Trainers’ School with the intention to challenge Florinia, but is stopped by Fern. Fern is insulted that Xera was chosen to help at Obsidia Park over him, believing her to be unworthy of the recognition she’s gotten or of challenging the Gym. 

Fern orders his underlings in the student body to not only activate several gates blocking Xera’s access to the Gym, but to just generally impede her progress by any means necessary by battling her.

Forced to take the long way around, Xera makes her way through the main body of the OTS. All the while, nearly half the students have been riled up by Fern, and Xera is forced to battle her way through them.

Xera encounters a young man in his dorm who is outraged after losing everything to the arcade system virus. In his frustration, he gives away his own Coin Case to Xera, which allows her to do some gambling at the Onyx Arcade.

With the coins she earned at the Arcade, Xera is able to get two Pokémon: Blizzard the Snover and Caldera the Slugma.

Using Caldera’s heat, Xera is able to hatch the Egg she received from the concerned Onyx Ward woman: a Remoraid that she names Bullet.

Eventually, Xera finds herself in front of a gate that won’t open, even when she interacts with the switch. Then, someone new arrives- his name is Hardy, and he’s not only a Gym Leader as well as a technical OTS student, but he also has disdain towards Fern, and thus is more than willing to help Xera get past the gate. 

So anyways, that’s where we’re at. With this, we should be done with this whole second Gym arc, capped off with a climactic battle against Florinia, which I am only a little concerned about! After all, I was able to beat Julia on my first try, I’d like to at least try to maintain that with Florinia. How well will this go? We’ll just have to see!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

Warehouse Wonderland

Warehouse Wonderland by MintyCrystal

January is arguably one of the worst months, in Izuku's personal opinion. It's so cold, and any sort of precipitation is just such an inconvenience. Not to mention the fact that everyone's already had to deal with months of cold, and spring finally coming and releasing the world from winter's icy grip is a long way away.

Overall, January just sucks. Izuku will stand by that. He's been lucky so far this month, though - just some rain, no annoying snow that covers the streets and makes getting anywhere an actual nightmare. Mei's of the opinion that the winter is the best season (apparently cold is good for batteries and electronics and stuff - all Izuku knows is that he always needs to crank up his hot plate and that his reactions are still slower.)

And then, of course, right as he was starting to get comfortable in this hell month, there's a blizzard.

Or: Izuku and Mei get snowed in for 13 hours. Shenanigans, antics, and overall tomfoolery ensue.

Words: 3257, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of Birds of a Feather

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Hatsume Mei, Midoriya Inko

Relationships: Hatsume Mei & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Snowed In, but platonic! such a novel idea, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Support Department Midoriya Izuku, Hatsume Mei & Midoriya Izuku are Best Friends, ao3 hates me and keeps deleting this, let me post gdi, Chemistry, but like real chemistry, EXPLOSION chemistry, there is a cat. you will see., Hijinks & Shenanigans, mild. but there., slaps roof of fic, this bad boy can fit so much tomfoolery, Betaed, Winter

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44403991

[fmpnalogirlypop]

Researching part 5

Chapter 5 Wonderland:

Frozen World A to B:

After following Shifty's directions, the Counters have finally reached the bunker. Unfortunately, all communications are down so they can't contact the operator from this point forward. Rapi wants everyone to head inside so they can wait out the storm with Anis volunteering to check it for safety reasons. Neon figures that based on the size of the entrance, there is a low possibility of Raptures being able to get in. Anis reminds her that they aren't the only threats that they can encounter up here.

Before Anis could begin her search, she immediately spots some Raptures up ahead. Though they were able to remain undetected thanks to the blizzard, the Counters knew they had to be eliminated.

In a dream-like state, the protagonist remembers a conversation he had with a young girl in a hospital. Though she finds his name rather unusual. As for why he's there, he's there to be treated for being ill, something she can relate to. Though she doesn't share why she's also at the hospital she compares it to being "insane in the membrane". Having just remembered that she herself never told him her name, she begins to share it before he starts to regain consciousness.

As the commander comes to, he sees the silhouettes of two women, one with long blonde hair and dressed mostly in white, and another with white hair wearing a pink jumpsuit. The woman in pink asks if the person they found is sleeping and tries to wake him up. The woman in white was surprised that despite all he's been through, he's still alive. Wanting to save him, the two grab a different end of him and attempt to take him somewhere warmer, but not before the one in pink accidentally grabs his more... sensitive spot.

Reunited A to B:

Not long after leaving the bunker, Alice spots a person in the distance, or rather two of them. Ludmilla was curious if they were Servant's teammates, but they're too far away to tell. The three decide to move closer and as they do, the two in question happen to be Anis and Neon who have been searching for their commander after they were separated, with the latter occasionally firing her gun into the air. After getting a closer look, he can say for certain that these are not the Nikkes he's looking for these are his squadmates. Ludmilla feels her servant has some... interesting company. Alice warns her queen that the queen's minions are heading towards them, something that was bound to happen from the racket, so it is up to the two of them to wipe them out.

After the Raptures were destroyed, the protagonist finally reunites with his team. The two were relieved that he was unharmed, a sentiment he feels about them. They have spent their time trying to dig him out of the snow to no avail. He then became worried since Rapi wasn't with them so Anis revealed with a grim expression that Rapi... is dead and was caught in the avalanche. Immediately after, the Nikke in question shows up unamused by Anis's story. Rapi regrets not acting quickly enough, but since he made it out unharmed, he feels she shouldn't beat herself up about it. She appreciates his sentiments.

Neon was impressed by how her master survived an avalanche, but then the conversation shifted towards the two new faces that he brought with him. The two introduce themselves as the Unlimited squad for now, but promise to fill them in later as they have to keep moving. Though all the Raptures in the area have been cleared, more are sure to come due to all the noise. Neon was confused who caused such a ruckus and both Anis and Rapi indirectly blamed her for it. The banter between the three of them proved to be very amusing to Ludmilla.

Chapter 6: Pilgrim

With the research facility data in hand, Counters sets off to track down codename "Snow White". The protagonist manages to find her, along with his ever-so-familiar adversary, and an ominous black armor.

Sleeping Princesses

In a secret lab in the base, the sleeping princesses are still sound asleep inside capsules scattered around the room. Alice wanted to introduce her new friends to them and started by showing them Princess Blue Hair. The Counters were shocked at what they were looking at; a Nikke with the top of her skull missing. Alice continues by greeting them with Princess Yellow Eye, who's lower body was severed from her top half and is also missing part of her skull. Alice shares that they will awaken these slumbering beauties some day and they will go to Elysium together. Though they don't do much now, Alice shares milk and cookies with them from time to time. Mentioning that causes Ludmilla to ask Alice to fetch her some. She eagerly goes to fetch some with a smile on her face.

Rapi realizes the truth, the sleeping princesses are the Nikkes Unlimited have "rescued" on the surface. Though they appear deceased, they are still alive, somewhat. From all her time aiding Nikkes, a common pattern Ludmilla comes across are Nikke's with their brains removed. If their brain stops functioning, a Nikke will permanently die. For the best chance of survival, they intentionally remove their own brains and store them in safe places, hoping for a miracle. That being for someone else to find it and return them to a body. Doing so is Unlimited's top priority. The brains of the sleeping Nikkes are kept safe and sound and it's thanks to them that dozens of Nikkes have been revived. There have been a few sad cases among the bunch. Though their brains can inhabit a new body, mental breakdowns and amnesia have occurred as well, but they all survived in the end, an outcome Ludmilla is happy with. Neon can tell how much she's been through, but the Queen doesn't regret a single second of it. She had no intentions of showing them any of this, but at least they have an idea about the worst-case scenario. She apologizes to the Counters for showing them such a horrific sight, but all it did was make them respect Unlimited more. 

While she appreciates their kind words, she has something else to share with them. As of the past few years, finding lost Nikkes is becoming more and more difficult. Ludmilla doesn't know why that is, but she is aware the survival rate inside the Ark hasn't changed. Alice interrupts their conversation to warn her Queen that they are out of milk, only for her to notice some staining her lips. She knew she was caught red-handed.

The Pilgrim A to B:

Stopping in his tracks, Chatterbox concedes and offers to answer one of his questions and only one of them, but agrees to answer two after the commander's insistence. Having bought his squadmates some time, he has some questions that will keep Chatterbox distracted. His first was about his involvement with the research base and the map they found. He admits that he was the one who planted the map there, knowing what his plan was from the start. He boasts that luring them there was all too easy, even for him. The second question was if there is a mole in the Ark. His response is that there is indeed one. The protagonist wants to know more about his captor, but he's already reached his two question limit. He again threatens to blow himself up, but by this point, Chatterbox is certain he is bluffing. He's also certain that his Nikkes aren't coming for him because they can't track him. At this point, his life serves no purpose to him. To him, the only outcome of this war is for all human life to go extinct. Tired of Chatterbox's drivel, the protagonist prepares to kill himself, but while amused by his ploy, the monster has a hole blown into him.

After their second clash, Snow White has done some significant damage to Chatterbox. Severely wounded and reeling, the Rapture falls over in agony. Snow White wants to have a "quick chat" with her "friend" and with the monster at her mercy, she wants some answers out of him. He tries to beg for his life and she demands to know what malevolent force brought him into being. Though Snow White is disgusted by his begging, he's not afraid of what the Pilgrim intends to do to him, but rather his Queen.

The Heretic.

After Chatterbox's pleading, the skies split apart and a mechanical manifestation descended towards them. A Nikke encased in Rapture armor with intentions of pure malice towards the human race, has come to meet them and her presence causes the protagonist to tremble. This Nikke is disappointed in Chatterbox, but has come to save him nonetheless. After meeting the one who had injured her companion, Snow White knew who she was now up against. The Heretics are Nikkes who have given up their duty to protect humanity and have sided with the Raptures and their Queen. She doesn't care much for the Pilgrim's harsh truth and would prefer to be known as Modernia. Knowing that she has drawn out one of the Rapture Queen's lieutenants, Snow White is one step closer to their leader. Modernia wants to execute her where she stands, but refrains from doing so to save Chatterbox. She promises to not forget her face but Snow White wants to take her down as well. In an instant, large Raptures emerge from the ice below the ground at Modernia's command and attack the Pilgrim. Snow White blasts her way through them in order to take out the Heretic.

Chapter 7 Reunited:

Persisting in his journey for the truth, the protagonist works with Snow White to corner Chatterbox and fight the Heretic Modernia. The result is an answer that only leaves him with more questions, uncertainty, and a familiar face that he never wanted to see like this...

Traitor

The Pilgrim explains that at first, she was wandering as usual, scrapping Raptures in hopes of finding even a trace of the Queen's location. It bore little, if any fruit, as Raptures did not communicate using human languages, and any data inside them was slim pickings. Then she found Chatterbox, who was receiving a beam of light coming from the Ark. At that moment, Snow White came to an epiphany. A Rapture that could speak like a human. If she could capture Chatterbox, she could interrogate him on the Queen's whereabouts. Unfortunately, Chatterbox is slippery one who keeps bugging out on her every time. She'd hoped this would be the time he finally spills the beans, but then the Heretic appeared...

The protagonist then decides to ask just what is that Nikke that was ensconced in Rapture armor? In a sudden bout of vitriol, Snow White calls the Nikke "a traitor" and "scum" before refusing to elaborate further. All he needs to know is that Nikke is undoubtedly an enemy of mankind...

Modernia A to B:

Sick of the Heretic's babbling, Snow White fires, only for the bullet to explode off an invisible barrier, which she recognizes as a magnetic field. Modernia's counterattack sends Snow White sprawling into the snow as the Heretic draws ever closer. As a gesture of "respect" towards the Pilgrim's dedication to humanity...she will make her death as excruciating as possible...

Modernia takes her time torturing Snow White, laughing manically as she does so. Defiant as ever, Snow White refuses to capitulate, even going so far as to ask Modernia to "scratch" an "itch" on her back, which the Heretic does with gusto...

The protagonist muses that he can't just sit idly while this is happening. He spies Snow White's rifle, laying abandoned on the ground. Nikke weapons are too powerful for humans to fire, but if it's just one shot, the consequences shouldn't be too dire. Hefting the rifle onto his exoskeleton, the protagonist sees that only one shot remains in the gun. One is all he needs, given the clear shot. The protagonist pulls the trigger, the recoil alone sending him tumbling into the snow. Going by the pain in his shoulder, he's definitely fractured something. But he did what he had to...

Modernia ponders on how odd this battle is. Even by specs alone, she and her armor should be more than a match for a 3-Nikke squad and a heavily-damaged Pilgrim. So why is it that she's struggling so much? As Counters quips back, a shot manages to land square into Modernia's head, chipping off her visor to reveal her face.

While the Heretic curses and wonders if she should've gotten Nihilister for backup, Counters and the protagonist are more shocked to see the face underneath. The latter remembers that face, as she told him not to worry. When she thanked him for bandaging her wounds. When she...thanked him one last time and pulled the trigger in his place. Dumbfounded, the protagonist calls out; "...Marian?"

Initially, Modernia is confused, clarifying her name and status as one of the Queen's agents. Then she goes silent for a moment, muttering the name "Marian" over and over and musing how it sounds so familiar...

As Modernia keeps muttering "Marian" repeatedly, the ground begins to quake, and the Heretic's body shines with black light. The rumbling and light become more intense as Modernia begins muttering phrases under her breath, until finally, something changes. With a teary look in her eyes, Modernia looks towards the protagonist...and seemingly recognizes him as her commander. At the same time, the black light explodes, throwing the protagonist back as his consciousness fades out...

Some time later, the protagonist comes to in an unfamiliar room. Counters reports that the explosion separated them all, and it took some time to reconvene before they took shelter in this bunker. Thankfully everyone is alive, even Snow White, who is silently standing off to the side. The protagonist asks for a status report, and the results...aren't very good.

[helenaheissner]

A Dream of Summer Rain (Chapter 5: Beyond Me, Beyond You)

10 Years Ago

Isabella stepped out of the library and into the falling snow. The winter air was like raw ocean water, wet and frigid and overwhelming. Light pollution was trapped beneath a thick layer of dark clouds and muddied by snowfall, while wind carried all the sounds and scents through the city in brutal, rapid lashes. The Boston Public library stood in the night, a tall, rectangular building of pure white stone blending into the pitch darkness. The place had closed twenty minutes prior, and as usual a librarian had had to remind Isabella of that before they could lock up.

11 PM. School started at 7:30 the next morning, and so if she woke up on time she’d be able to shower before that. Then again, she was freezing cold and had had a long day of tests, and she desperately wanted to warm herself and relax before drifting to sleep. But if she did that, her hair would be an absolute horror show the next morning… This had all been much less complicated when her hair was shorter, and she’d been more willing to lie to herself about certain things. Not that she had any desire to regress, though occasionally she had to admit there were some things about being a guy that had been easier.

God, it still felt weird, thinking of herself that way, thinking of herself as a girl, thinking of herself as having once been a boy, of having once been convinced she was a boy… It was all so abstract now, trapped behind layers of glass in her mind, where she herself had once lived. But she was herself now. Things were difficult, things were stressful, but they were okay. She’d stopped by the pharmacy after school that day and picked up a four-months supply of testosterone blockers, and her relief at hearing the pills bounce about inside the bottle in her purse made her squeal with delight. 

She strode up the street, cars driving by with reckless aplomb. Maybe if she was lucky, school would be closed tomorrow, and none of this would be an issue. 

She twitched, heard a sound down below her. She looked over, then down, and found a small white mass of fur trotting along next to her. It was a fox, no bigger than a bulldog, with a fluffy white winter coat and orange-gold eyes. 

Isabella stopped. 

The fox stopped. 

Isabella looked down at the fox. The fox tilted its head and looked up at her. Isabella opened her mouth, but then decided it wasn’t worth it. It was just a fox, probably broken out of Franklin Park Zoo, easily lost in the blizzard. 

Isabella pulled her hood up over her burgundy knit-cap. She shivered inside her black coat, and wished she’d brought her parka with her to school instead. It hadn’t been snowing this morning. It hadn’t even been that cold this morning. During Second Period, she’d looked out the third floor window of her school to find snow escaping from the heavy layer of gray clouds. The forecast hadn’t called for it, and nothing in the air had made it feel like snow was on the horizon. 

And yet here we are, she thought. 

A glass pyramid came into view a block ahead, and quickly revealed the stairs leading down into the subway station. Isabella stopped at a crosswalk, looking both ways. No cars.

But there was a fox standing next to her. 

Isabella did a double-take, then crossed the street. Then she did another double-take when she realized the fox had followed her across said street. What is with this thing? She wondered. 

Her pulse climbed, and memories of darkness began to crawl back into her waking mind. Of suffocating, impenetrable nothingness, all around, without beginning and without end. She had to get home, had to get home, had to get home. 

Down the stairs, through the ticket-kiosk, through the gate, down the final set of stairs and onto the concrete platform. Nobody else was there with them in the tunnel drenched in harsh orange light between two mouths of pitch black. The other side of the tracks revealed another empty platform, and the kiosk area had been deserted as well. Isabella was tempted to turn around and walk home, but a whip-crack of freezing wind reached in from outside and reminded her she was liable to freeze to death if she tried to leg four miles in this. 

The fox sat on the platform, and seemed to smile. Of course it wasn’t truly smiling- it was a fox, how could it do such a thing?

Memories of falling through the black washed over her skin and soaked into her bones. She shook her head. A whistle blew, and the raging thunder of the coming train bounded from the left-hand tunnel. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply- part of her was desperately crying out to turn around, to walk home, to take her chances in the cold. The rational part of her brain, unfortunately, carried her legs into the open door of a train car and sat her down in a seat. 

It was only after the doors had closed and the whistle blew and the train departed did Isabella realize that her cart was empty save for herself and the arctic fox. 

The fox jumped up onto the seat next to her, curled up into a ball and closed its eyes. Isabella leaned back in her seat and breathed slowly through her nose, closed her own eyes, and before she knew it, jerked back awake. 

She rose from her seat and looked out the window, where not a single speck of light was found. She ran up to the front of the cart, looked through the door into the next one, to find that it was empty. She checked the cart to the back, to identical results. 

Isabella’s heartbeat spiked, and she reached for the emergency break. She pulled it, and it snapped off. 

The cart began to spin, and she sat herself down on the chair. A warm, furry body pressed through her arms. The fox squealed gently and cuddled in her lap. Isabella’s arms flung upwards as she tried to avoid touching the animal with her hands. The fox nuzzled her leg, and Isabella found it difficult not to look at the thing and appreciate how cute it was. It took her mind off the situation for a half moment. She reached down and she stroked the fox’s warm, soft pelt. It was all she could do to keep her mind off of the shrill scream of her own heartbeat. 

Eventually, the train slowed to a stop. Isabella allowed herself to look up, away from the floor. She looked outside and was at first relieved at the familiar sight of falling snow. It evaporated as soon as she saw the surrounding forest. 

The train pulled to a stop at a station she had never seen before. It was a raised tile platform beneath a small glass overhead. A lamppost sat at the edge, casting a thin swath of light upon a path that led into a coniferous forest of silver-purple bark and dark green needles. 

The fox hopped off her lap and scampered out the door. Her heartbeat resonated through her entire body as she rose from her seat and followed it outside. Her ears rang as she stepped into the brutal cold of the night, as wind cracked and snow blew about in massive wet clumps. 

In spite of the clouds, in spite of the snow, moonlight filtered through, and Isabella jumped as she realized it had multiple sources: in the sky above, the moon was cleaved into four quarters, rough and jagged divisions that had torn apart from each other unevenly. Clouds gathered around them but did not cover them, and their light revealed something beneath: wreckage. The remnants of buildings, structures, habitats, floated in chunks above and sat stagnant in the moonlight. 

A path began at the lamppost and snaked through the woods. It led up a hill, and atop the hill was a black castle. It rose ten feet in height, seemingly carved from a single piece of metal. It dove in and stretched out and rose and fell at bizarre angles, resembling a broken, mangled hand attempting to form a fist. The fox sat on its hindlegs in the pool of lamplight, looking up at Isabella with a quizzical tilt.

A lurching sounded behind her. She pivoted to find the train leaving the makeshift station, retreating into the impenetrable darkness from which she’d rode in.

“NO!” she cried as the train drove away. She ran after it, down the train tracks, into the massive layer of darkness. She followed it down a narrow slope, onto a beach covered in snow. She nearly fell as the ground gave way to an empty pit of pure darkness. She clung to the tracks and hung above endless oblivion.  

Eventually, she turned herself around and swung herself onto the ledge. She walked back to the station, to where the fox sat beneath the lamplight on its hindlegs, ready to go. She stood in the cone of white light, and looked up to find an old-fashioned light bulb flickering inside the lamp. She didn’t know what she’d expected to find- a candle, maybe?

The fox nuzzled her ankle and squeaked a few times, then darted off down the path into the woods. Isabella breathed in deep through her nose, slapped herself across the face. She took a look around her, and saw that she was in a place nobody had ever been before, a place that defied description and explanation. She’d fallen into another world. 

A smile blossomed on her lips, brief but intense. She had to see this place- she had to know what was here. Besides, if she was here now, then she would need to know how to survive this place. At least until the train came back. 

If the train came back. 

Best not to think about that right now, she told herself. 

She walked. 

The path was long and winding, taking her through a wide stretch of forest. The trees were like none she’d ever seen before, with silver-purple bark, leaves throbbing with verdant illumination that refracted off the falling snow and carried in every myriad direction. There was a sterile smell to the place, like everything was in a cryogenic slumber. She heard the sound of running water, but found no river. She followed the path through the forest, illuminated by moonlight and starlight, guided by the arctic fox. Finally, after a long and dark journey, she emerged at the base of a hill. Atop the hill sat the black castle. The fox sat at the base, and then ran up the top and waited for her at the front of the castle. Isabella’s legs were heavy as anvils, and her arms were limp logs at her sides. Still, she carried herself up the hill, shaking as she went, the snow soaking through her shoes and coat. There had better be something to burn in there. 

She reached the front, a wooden door painted golden with a black metal wolf’s head knocker. She pushed on it, to no avail. She pulled, to similar results. 

She tried knocking. It didn’t work. 

Finally, she tried screaming. 

That didn’t work either. 

Then the fox clawed at the entrance with its front-paws, and the door fell open. 

Isabella’s mouth hung open, and her eyes were wide. She exhaled, then stepped inside. 

A blissful surge of warmth washed over her. The inside of the castle was a very comfortable temperature, like a late-spring day between the final storms of the equinox and the first of the summer rains. Light stretched over the inside sprawl of the castle, though she saw no sources- no candles, no lightbulbs, no hearth anywhere in sight. Regardless, the place was warm and dry and wonderful. She looked around, and found the castle was a library. It sprawled out for hundreds and hundreds of yards, and hundreds more in height. Shelves lined up row after row after row, some reaching as high as the ceiling. A stairwell laid at the edge of the first floor, spiraling upwards to a new platform every twenty feet. 

Isabella’s eyes went wide as she took in the sight before her. The floor was brick, solid beneath her soaked feet, but she put a hand to it and found it was warm. Her feet, meanwhile, were frigid and beginning to itch inside her wool socks. 

She unlaced her shoes and stripped them off with her socks. She pushed them to the side of the door to the library, let her toes wiggle in the warm, dry air and felt the heat of the floor. She took off her damp gloves as well, warmed her fingers on her breath. Finally, she removed her hat and jacket, and let them fall to the floor. She stepped forward into the library. 

The books were written in every language she could think of as well as dozens she couldn’t. English and Spanish, the two she could read, were littered throughout the shelves, and through them she recognized Portuguese, French, Latin, and German. After that were so, so many in alphabets she’d never seen before, words she couldn’t even discern the syllables of. 

From the titles she recognized, however, she could take a guess at the subject matters. One book was called Necronomicon ex Mortus, volume 1, while volume 3 sat next to it. No sight of volume two, but other titles included the Histories of Magic, Quest for the Philosopher’s Stone, The Complete British Grimoire, and The Compendium of Destiny Stars. 

Books of magic. That had some… Astonishing, thrilling, terrifying implications. Part of her thought it sounded utterly preposterous, and yet here she was, having evidently fallen into a proverbial Narnia… Or possibly the Wood Between Worlds.  

She searched through the first floor, through the books of magic, in awe of what she saw. The fox stayed at her side the entire time, trotting along happily. She finished searching through the first floor, letting the heat of the place fill her and reawaken her. 

Finally, she found herself on the far end, looking at a stone door carved into the black metal, warm to the touch. She opened it, and a fresh wall of heat slammed into her. Stairs carved into the stone floor descended into the ground, a slow descent into warmer temperatures. She followed the steps, and at the bottom she discovered a warm expanse of water that stretched into infinity. The air was rich with salt and brine, and she put a hand into the water and then put a finger to her tongue. This was salt water. An ocean sprawled out into infinity beneath this strange, ruptured castle.

A sphere of red light danced across the ceiling, shedding heat and power as it graced its way through the air. It looked like a tiny little star. She’d seen ribbons of light like it across the library- now she understood. Wandering stars illuminated the inside of the castle.

The water was hot from the star, the temperature of the perfect shower. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, but when she was done she was refreshed and revitalized.

She put back on her pants and shirt, and searched the upper levels and found bedrooms, four-poster beds with canopies, wool blankets and wooden wardrobes filled with gowns and dresses- medieval, Elizabethan, Victorian, Edwardian… anything she could ask for. She also found dry towels, much to her relief. She dried herself, and then found she had no strength left in body or mind. She fell asleep beneath the canopy of a four-poster bed, and did not wake for many hours. 

When she opened her eyes, she remembered where she was, that she was not dreaming, that she had followed the fox into the castle. The fox slept at the foot of her bed, curled up into a ball. When it saw she was awake, it bounded over to her and licked her hand. Isabella scratched it behind the ears, and it squeaked gently again. 

The fox led her through the remaining upper levels, where all the rooms held hordes of treasures: gold and jewels, old scrolls and tapestries, halls of weapons. An entire floor of weapons, in fact. The tenth floor out of who-the-hell-knew-how-many, in which each room was filled with every kind of weapon imaginable: lances, spears, bows, daggers, guns.

Swords.

One in particular stood out to her. 

The claymore stood erect in a stone anvil, perfectly straight where it plunged into the rock. Its hilt was a shining silver, while the blade seemed to glow with golden light despite being made of a black metal- presumably the same black metal as the rest of the castle. Isabella walked up to it, past all the other weapons, mesmerized by what she saw. It called to her, and when she laid eyes on it, it was like there was nothing else in the whole of creation save for herself, the weapon, and the empty space between. 

She bridged the gap.

She placed a hand on the sword’s hilt. 

The sky burned, and the world froze, and she sank beneath an ocean of golden moonlight. The castle was flooded with the illumination as the sword broke free of the stone and all the light it contained was unleashed into the world. 

Her arms weren’t strong enough to carry the sword, and her legs weren’t strong enough to support the rest of her body. She bore the weight regardless, even as her arms dragged to the ground, even as her knees buckled, she pushed off the floor and refused to fall. It took her a while to stand upright, but when she did, she knew beyond all doubt that the sword belonged to her now. She knew its name, burning in her mind, etched into the moons: World-Carver. 

Helluva name, she thought. I wonder how you wound up with it?

The fox sat behind her, tilting its head and smiling its fox-smile up at her. 

***

A day was lost to her beneath the four moons. 

She checked later on if the train had returned to the station, venturing out into the cold. There was no sun here, only the moons and the stars, and the ever-falling snow. It fell into the darkness that spread outwards past the island, feeding the bottomless abyss forever. The station was empty, and the lamp was still groaning in the cold. 

She turned around and went back to the castle, her stomach rumbling. She spent the afternoon searching the castle for food, until she found a galley filled with dried fruit, nuts, and cured meat. Not the best or the tastiest, but it would do for the time being, and with her stomach as empty as it was, it was practically a feast. The kitchen stores seemed to go on forever.

Another day was lost.

Still no train. 

Still no other signs of life. 

Still endless snow beneath the endless moonlight. 

If there’s no sun here, where’s the moon getting its light? She wondered, lying beneath the blankets of her four poster bed, body wracked with exhaustion and strain. 

The fox jumped onto her bed and nipped her hand. She shooed the thing away. How did it survive here? There wasn’t anything for it to hunt. 

She spent the rest of the day surveying the castle once more, drawing a map to make sure she knew where everything was. She continued the next day, and the next, and the next. 

Soon, a whole week was lost to her.

Then a second.

Then a third. 

Each day, the train failed to return. Each day, the sun failed to rise. Each day, the snow failed to stop falling. 

The castle, it turned out, was thirty stories total, thirty-one if you counted the ocean underneath. And there was more than one galley, and more than one pantry. There were even various canned foods, fish and beans and tomatoes, as well as matches. There was a whole room filled with practice dummies and wet-stones, wherein she began to swing and sharpen World-Carver. She felt the weight of it in her hands, shifting her body with its movements. 

The fox led her to one other room. It was on the twenty-seventh floor, and it was filled with vials and jars, with labels like ‘Truth’, ‘healing of skin afflictions’, and ‘fortification.’ Potions, she realized. 

A grimoire sat on a podium at the edge of the room. Its contents revealed what she expected: potion recipes. 

One of them was for synthesizing pure estrogen. Another blocked testosterone. 

She ran her finger down the list of ingredients, and soon found herself gathering the necessary items from throughout the room. When she was done, she had a full vial, and she downed it one gulp. It worked like a patch, giving her a bit of her supply each day while remaining in her system. She could practically feel it inside her body, changing her, making her who she wanted to be. 

She woke up beneath the canopy, and found it growing familiar. She was wrapped in blankets, and the hearth still burned with the previous day’s pyre. She supposed it was morning- without a sun, it was impossible to tell. ‘Night’ was when she fell asleep, morning was when she woke up. The moons never changed location or phase, and the stars never seem to drift. It was like this world didn’t turn. Trapped in a moment, stagnant in the ice and snow evermore. 

She clutched her heart and made herself breathe. She would get out of here. She would. Even if she had to teach herself every language in every book in this library, even if she had to chart every inch of this island, she would make it home. 

She looked up at the canopy, and remembered another moment in which she’d been frozen. Lying in her bed, shivering and shaking as the thundersnow snapped through the glass of the windows and bounded inside a house empty but for herself. Her parents’ had just gone out running errands. Their bodies were found in the Charles River a week later. Isabella, as she’d just made herself known to her parents, who, bless them, still loved her, wanted her to be their daughter now that they knew she wasn’t their son, had been left alone, and she wanted to lay in bed until they came back. Even as the heat went off, and the lights went out, and the cold crept in. The police found her before she froze to death, though apparently it was a close-call. 

Not again, she thought. She forced herself from bed. There was nobody coming to save her this time; she would have to get out by herself. She’d get out of foster care as well, once she was old enough to get emancipated. It would be difficult, but it beat the hell out of the various foster parents she’d been stuck with in the past two years. She landed on the brick floor and did push-ups, then bathed, dressed herself, and began surveying the stacks in the library. She’d start with any and all books in English or Spanish, then work on teaching herself Portuguese and French and take it from there. There had to be something in one of these books, these self-proclaimed compendiums of mystical knowledge. 

After an hour of thumbing through a book on the phenomena of falling through the world, into a place of magic and pain, the fox padded up to her and nipped her arm gently. 

“What?” she asked. 

The fox yelped.

“What?” she repeated. “I’m busy!”

The fox screeched. 

Isabella winced and covered her ears. The fox bounded off in the direction it had come from, then stopped at the foot of the spiral staircase.

Isabella sighed, dogeared the book, slammed it shut and put it down. She followed the fox over to and up the stairs, all the way to her bedroom on the nineteenth floor. The fox ran to the side of her bed and grabbed World-Carver in his teeth. Isabella took the hint and grabbed the sword, then followed the fox back up the stairs all the way to the top floor of the castle. 

She’d not been on the roof before. It was harsh and exposed, and so far up the air was even colder than it was elsewhere in the castle. The staircase ended at a doorway with another golden knob carved into the shape of a wolf’s head. She turned it and stepped outside, into the evernight. 

Four columns of jagged moonlight reached for her from their clearing amidst the cloudy sky. It engulfed her face as the snow kissed her skin and wetted her hair. She pulled up the hood on her fur coat, flexed her fingers inside her gloves. The fox sat next to her and aimed his head directly at the moons. 

Isabella looked up.

From the space in between the four moons, a blue star shone. It descended from the night sky, its sapphire light glowing brighter and larger as it closed the gap. It came closer and closer and closer to the top of the castle, until Isabella could reach out and touch it. It was larger than the small red orbs inside the castle, closer in size to a basketball than a baseball. 

Her fingers reached the star. Everything burned blue. 

She saw a girl, who the world thought was a boy, stumbling through the wilderness. She was short, with pale skin and shaggy brown hair and a tiny frame. She sat between lakes, awaiting her destiny. The girl took the Star, and the world crumbled. The glass between worlds shattered, and hell poured in from beyond. From beyond this place, called the Pale, a name which burned golden inside Isabella’s mind. The girl did not yet know who she truly was, and yet this Star would come for her. 

The Star heralded the end of the old world, the crumbling of borders and the arrival of the ones from beyond, from the fields we did not know. To the west, on the other side of the island, from which train tracks shot over the abyss and reached towards another world altogether. A world held in place by a single Star, by a single King anointed by that Star. A world of eight foot beings with long limbs and pointed ears and mouths full of fangs, with white pupils and black sclera. A world of elves waiting for their champion to lead them into the east, to a new world for them to conquer. Her ancestor, the King, waited for her to fulfill her family’s legacy of conquest and ruination and destruction. 

But the girl did not take it. She rejected it, and the Star clung instead to the night sky. 

The elves were displeased by this. 

In spite of everything, in spite of the horrors the vision promised, Isabella wept with joy at the simple sight of her own world, of the reassurance that it was still there, that it had not been a mere dream of warmth and light. 

The fox yipped. The vision stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the Star left Isabella behind as it bounded over the abyss, following the tracks across to the earth so that the girl could accept her destiny.

“Hello,” a voice spoke from behind her. 

Isabella turned, and found herself in the presence of royalty.

“I’m the Elf-King,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I have a matter I’d like to discuss. A deal we might strike, if you’d like to return home.”

Overwhelmed, confused, exhausted, Isabella nodded and listened as the Elf-King spoke, and found herself agreeing with everything he said, until he vanished, and finally, the familiar lurching of a train pulling into the station reached her ears.

As she boarded the train home, she carried two things with her: World-Carver, and a promise to the Elf-King to kill the aspiring Dark Lord. 

[ao3feed-bnha-girls]

Warehouse Wonderland

Warehouse Wonderland by MintyCrystal

January is arguably one of the worst months, in Izuku's personal opinion. It's so cold, and any sort of precipitation is just such an inconvenience. Not to mention the fact that everyone's already had to deal with months of cold, and spring finally coming and releasing the world from winter's icy grip is a long way away.

Overall, January just sucks. Izuku will stand by that. He's been lucky so far this month, though - just some rain, no annoying snow that covers the streets and makes getting anywhere an actual nightmare. Mei's of the opinion that the winter is the best season (apparently cold is good for batteries and electronics and stuff - all Izuku knows is that he always needs to crank up his hot plate and that his reactions are still slower.)

And then, of course, right as he was starting to get comfortable in this hell month, there's a blizzard.

Or: Izuku and Mei get snowed in for 13 hours. Shenanigans, antics, and overall tomfoolery ensue.

Words: 3257, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of Birds of a Feather

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Hatsume Mei, Midoriya Inko

Relationships: Hatsume Mei & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Snowed In, but platonic! such a novel idea, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Support Department Midoriya Izuku, Hatsume Mei & Midoriya Izuku are Best Friends, ao3 hates me and keeps deleting this, let me post gdi, Chemistry, but like real chemistry, EXPLOSION chemistry, there is a cat. you will see., Hijinks & Shenanigans, mild. but there., slaps roof of fic, this bad boy can fit so much tomfoolery, Betaed, Winter

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44403991

[baambastic]

Camp Camp Fic Recs List

Still Here. 20 Chapters, 102957 words. A Dadvid fic where David adopts Max and they both try to figure out how to work with each other. Has a lot of angst, but there's still a decent amount of fluff.

How Long It Takes To Make A Family. 1 Chapter, 10219 words. A Dadvid adoption fic that explores Max and David's relationship through the years, from Max's first year at camp to his first year in college. Done in a 5+1 format.

Family is a Choice. 7 Chapters, 13286 words. A Dadvid fic where David is fostering Max. Takes place the next summer after the show.

Seven Fucking Voicemails. 21 Chapters, 43276 words. Gwen and David aren't talking to each other anymore. One day, though, she gets a call from a Colorado hospital informing her that David has been stabbed and drugged. When she goes to see him, it turns out he has a houseguest.

How to Foster an Asshole. 25 Chapters, 76809 words. In my opinion, this is the de facto Dadvid+Momgwen adoption fic. Max runs away from home in the middle of a blizzard and ends up at David's doorstep. David takes him in and, after learning about Max's home situation, decides to foster the boy. Featuring cameos from many other Camp Camp characters.

Inconvenience. 17 Chapters, 66233 words. On New Year's Day, Max is attacked and left blind. This fic explores Max's fucked-up home life and how it's made so much worse and a little better after he's blinded. Currently unfinished, but the first 16 chapters are excellent. The 17th chapter comes completely out of left field and is better off unread.

Put That Kid Down. 27 Chapters, 137278 words. A serial-killer!David fic for those, like me, who don't like serial-killer!David. A fascinating spin on Camp Camp canon and the Dadvid relationship. Despite the fantastical elements at play, nothing in the story feels like it comes out of left field. This fic is excellent, and it currently has an in-progress sequel that's even better, though I can't go into detail because of spoilers.

They Didn't Care. 13 Chapters, 28843 words. A Dadvid adoption fic where Max runs away from home and is placed with David by foster care. This is a canon-divergent AU wherein Camp Campbell seemingly doesn't exist, but the characters' relationships are fundamentally unchanged once they get to know each other. Also features MaxPres.

Berserker. 10 Chapters, 20699 words. An AU where all of the campers and counselors from the three camps all have categorized superpowers. The camps are secret military bases meant to train and protect the super-powered campers. This fic is unfinished, but what's there is a ton of fun.

The Princess, The Thief, and The Alchemist. 18 Chapters, 46657 words. A Disenchanted AU where Max is the well-meaning thief who only steals to support his family, Neil is the royal alchemist, and Nikki is the princess who doesn't want to get married (to Pikeman, so... can't blame her for that). An excellent fantasy Camp Camp fic that tells a concise, fulfilling story, complete with political intrigue. Features Gwenvid and Makki.

Bridge Over Troubled Water. 17 Chapters, 89814 words. An excellent Dadvid fic that delves into Max's abuse and the effects it has on him as he slowly learns to open up to David about his home situation. Heavy angst, some fluff, and a sufficiently fluffy ending. Yes, this fic has a different name on AO3; Bridge Over Troubled Water was the name of the original fic, so that is the name I am listing here.

The Bravest Thing. 5 Works, 154765 words. A (currently unfinished) five-part fic series about Max's new life following the events of Bridge Over Troubled Water. Excellent characters, excellent fluff, and excellent angst. Featuring Dadvid, Momgwen, floofy dogs, and important lesbian foster mom characters.

David for a Dad?!. 15 Chapters, 22137 words. A Dadvid and Momgwen adoption fic with all your favorite characters (...and Cameron Campbell). David finds Max in the foster care system and decides to foster the boy. Three weeks later, they're heading down to Camp Campbell for another excellent summer! At the same time, though, Cameron Campbell is plotting his revenge...

Camp Camp Infinite Loops. 2 Chapters, 29544 words. Camp Campbell sucked, but at least Max was only stuck there until the end of summer. Too bad reality broke, and now summer will never end. Part of the Infinite Loops project. Angst is practically nonexistent in this fic, despite the summary.

From a D-. 16 Chapters, 30714 words. A Jaspvid fic set in an AU where Jasper is Davey's high school math tutor. Very fluffy, with an action-focused ending. The last chapter makes the entire thing worse through the use of a terrible horror movie trope, don't read it.

dude no stop this isn't your normal horror story wait-. 8 Chapters, 29448. A horror-based reverse Max!dad AU. A grown-up Max is working at a shitty theme park owned by Cameron Campbell. He finds a young Davey, who can't find his parents. Max begrudgingly helps the kid, but the search takes so long that the two end up locked inside the theme park. Now the two of them must try to escape the theme park and reach civilization before they're gotten by the shadowy, murderous entity chasing them.

Temporal Fish Bouncer. 1 Chapter, 9113 words. Don't let the word count or silly title fool you. This is easily the most heart-wrenching Camp Camp fic I've ever read. Max had never pictured himself as a time traveller. David had never imagined himself as a time traveller's guardian. Magic tied them together anyway.

Carpe David. 20 Chapters, 46865 words. Camp Campbell has been closed for a few years now. David is working a soul-crushing desk job, and life seems determined to keep kicking him when he's down. One day, he gets a call from a familiar voice, asking if David has considered opening his own camp, and offering to fund such a venture.

Paw and Order: SVU. 1 Chapter, 11966 words. Max dogsits Nikki's gaggle of Rottweilers. That's it, that's the fic.

Six String Hero. 7 Chapters, 16175 words. Max discovers his love of music, with some help from David.

Room for One More. 7 Chapters, 26954 words. During one of Max's escape plans, he makes a mistake and dies. Now a ghost, Max tries to navigate the world of the undead, terrorizing everyone on Lake Lilac along the way. Excellent story, although the author completely chickened out on the final chapter.

Bridges Cross. 17 Chapters, 156083 words. After that first summer at Camp Campbell, all of the campers kept in touch. Except Max. Three years later, Max shows up again in Neil's health class out of the blue on the first day of high school. Featuring shenanigans, teen drama, fluff, angst, young love, pranks, and other exciting elements, this is one of the best Camp Camp fics I've read.