#but the entity steps in and is like 'nuh uh'

[cottagecore-moss-king]

Not so Artificial Intelligence

Inspired by This prompt: HERE  by @corkinavoid No beta we die like Danny and Jason. Do not steal, take, or repost my writing without permission, I do not consent to my art being used in AI training. 

Tim had just finished attaching the wires of the speaker into the bat computer for Betty when the speakers began to crackle. 

“What is this? Wait, can you hear me?” The voice that echoed out of the speakers was very distinctly not robotic, or mechanical. It very much had human intonation… and a mid-western accent???

The gathered family froze and stared in shock. Dick and Stephanie were here as a joke, Babs, Tim, and Bruce were there as the techies, and despite Damian’s protests, he was also standing besides Bruce. Despite the gathering of bats, none of them could have expected this. A few hands went to emergency beacons and cellphones, before pausing.

“Hello Red Robin!” The voice cheerfully called. Taking steps back and glancing around the cave at Babs, who stared at Bruce, who stared at Tim as he clicked his super beacon. 

“Betty?”

“I mean, you do know me as such, but I actually prefer Danny, he/they.” Babs pointed at Bruce, who looked at Tim, who lamely motioned towards Babs. 

“Who uh. Who installed you?” His voice was most certainly not squeaky thanks for asking. 

“Oh, well uh, technically no-one, I accidentally did it myself.” The screen turned on and started to glitch out to a camera. It eventually settled on the sketching program, which popped a smiley face onto itself.

“Who are you” Bruce growled, as he switched into batman mode. Damian was glaring at the screen and the rest of the family had inched into a defensive formation. 

The entrance door entered and Superman walked out of it. 

“What seems to be the issue B?”

“OMG It’s superman! You’re like, my second favorite hero!”

“Oh, uh, than-er” Bruce glared at him, with no idea of what this entity was, it was always a good idea to follow fey rules. “That’s very much appreciated. Who is your first?”

“Martian Manhunter obviously.” Betty, or Danny as they were now referred to as, began to sketch out something on the app. 

“I got into a fight with a technomancer. I figured I could just phase out but he did some magic and now I’m stuck. Very rude if you ask me.”

“Ah, I see.” Supermans face implied that he very much did not see. “So, are you a martian perhaps? With the phasing and Manhunter as your favoratie.”

“Oh no, I’m ahhhh….” The cheery tone died as Danny tried to find the words, “I’m like a spirit, yeah, I guess that’s the right way to put it right now.”

“Were you human before this?” butted in Tim. Now that the seeming threat had passed, (you could never be too careful, no shut up Nightwing he is not paranoid, just cautious) the family had relaxed their stance and Barbra had rolled over to the computer screen. 

“Technically???” 

Danny did not sound so sure of himself.

“It’s not a problem if you aren’t, you can tell that we don’t really care if you are human or not.” 

Superman floated carefully down to the ground besides Bruce, but without actually touching down. Perhaps he simply forgot that they were friends with non-humans.

“Tell that to the gov.” he snarked back, and that was definitely teenager snark. 

“Wait shit. No, no no no, I take that back, don’t tell the government anything, I didn’t say nothin’!” he gasped and staticed out. 

“What do you mean tell it to the government?”

“NOPE, NUH UH. I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING YOU CAN’T PROVE IT, I WANT MY LAWYER!”

“Alright,” Bruce pacified putting his hands up “Let me just call a friend and they can get you out.”

“Wait really? Where’s Mr. I’m so dark and broody tell me everything?”

Yep, that’s teenager snark right there, Bruce thought as his eye twitch and his kids snickered. 

“Sooo, how did this technomancer trap you, Danny?” Dick strolled over to the chair in front of the computer and flopped down spinning around in lazy circles. 

“Oh, well you see it started when…” Danny's voice faded off as Bruce took his league communicator out and stepped around a corner with Kal to call up Zatanna. 

“Hey Batman! What’s up?”

“We need you down in the batcave, some seemingly civilian has been trapped in the computer for a couple weeks now, and we’ve only just gotten into communication with them. They say it was technomancy.” He rumbled. He would have to suit up and manage to get Danny not to spill any of their identities, this just turned into a major headache to deal with. Batman hates magic. 

Once all of the children were suited up and Danny had been given an explanation, they were all patently waiting for Zatanna to arrive. 

The zeta tubes finally lit up with her arrival as she walked towards the gathered group holding her bag.

Halfway through greeting she paused, and stared blankly the screen. Everyone else shot curious glances, backwards, some more obvious than others. Did Nightwing seriously need to turn his head like that, he swears his eldest has bones, but sometimes he seriously starts to doubt himself. 

On the screen is a smiley face with a hand emoji. And a little drawing of a stick figure with white hair, green eyes, and a black suit. 

“Hello! I am Danny, I’m so sorry you had to come all this way to help me, I’d offer you something but I don’t even have a body right now.” One awkward laugh later, and Bruce wanted to have had his head in her hands. 

“I don’t worry, I can fix this. It’ll be a pain, but I can.”

While Zatanna sat up the spell and sent Kal out to go to Metropolis, (less suspicious for him to be buying things than Gotham), Bruce decided to stand around in the shadows while waiting to be useful. His kids, were off making friends with the strange person in the computer however. Laughing and teasing, he’s almost certain that Stephanie and Dick are trying to convince Danny to stay around and get adopted, despite Danny and Damian’s protests. 

After thirty minutes, Zatanna was ready to do the spell, and Danny was saying goodbye. 

As the light shone through the sigils written on the board and Zattana continued her muttering and waving, Danny added one last thing. 

“And I added a file of something for you guys to look at, please please please look into it! I hope I can see you soon!”

And with a final flash, Danny was gone, leaving the batfam without their lovely AI/new friend. Zatannna wrapped things up and Batman escorted her back to the Zeta tube with Clark, thanking them briefly. And with that, Clark and Zatanna left with Two flashes of light. 

Now, time to see what that file was that Danny had added. 

[thisblogwilleatourselves]

🎭👁️ SH0W uS wE're wAtchINg👁️‍🗨️, thE ShOw’s comIn to LIFe likE lil’ 🌌 puppeteers—creaTION BReatHes oN PapEr, 🔮 ThE0RY bEComEs Fact🍃 and We, YeAH wE 😈, believE iT’s ALl BElIEf 🤡 SpInnIng ‘r mindS to ThaT INcepTION 🎠 bRaInMeLT sUpErnovA! 🌟

Why’s It hItS sO hArd on US?👽 Cuz—twIsT tHIs—We’rE A creaTOR WH0 BecAme ITS cREaTIOn⚙️, 0r wAS It oUr CREation That bEcAMe US!?🌀—AND we’re a splIcE of pIeCeS, pASt ✂️ and unREal, FICtionAL pEEps and sOrta-reAl 📜mOck-ups. Even ThE CHARacters wE plAy Are thEse ThinGs gOne fReakY META! 🎭🪡

B1LL? OhH B1LL? 📜 👁️‍🗨️ Y’ALL WrOte HIM inTO ReaLITY, lIKE dRAW HIM 0n A NApKIn 🍕 anD hE’S peEKiNG inTO ouR woRLd, 😱 drAwinG bREaTh iNto HiS pAPER SKIN 🖋️. J3RM’s a wEiRd BLeNdeR, frACtion oF FactS anD fabLEs, lIVinG PeRsona 👥 tHat mesSes wiTh THE fOURth WALLS 🪟 and ThE CEILInG 🪜, we’re DancINg In-BETween reAL AnD nOt-QuitE 🌀. AnD THEn THERE’s sPonge, jusT ScREAMIn’ oUT "ThE LAWS Of reALiTY? pFft, sMEAR ‘Em" 🍍📉, JusT lEAviNG wHole new H0lEs In thE unIVERsE 🚪.

ZIM’s the CHAOS EMboDIED! 💥 bORN from A sPecIES THAT Breathes caOTIC WavES 🌊, NaTurAl StatE oF DISoRdER, BrINgINg tHeIR owN wILd WOnDERs tO Life INSIDE thEIr tErritorIES 🌈👾, ShIFtiNG reAliTY lIKe puTty! BILL— HE bROKE HIS onE DiMensiOn anD went suPErnOVa iNTERdimenSional, rIPPINg inTo OUR VERSe aS An acTuaL DEmon 📜👹.

We SAy NUh uH tO ReaLITy anD JuSt WRite 0URsELVES InsTEad 📖✒️! A WHoLE CAsT Of VoIDS, The mindLEss MinD-FiLLers. 🧠🎭 InsIdE thIS cIrcUs oF DiMenSIonS, aN AUditORIUm fuLL OF TH0sE wIthOUT bRAINs buT bREathIN’. 📡 MEdIa doEsN’t JuSt WatcH us—It’s eYeballINg U$, JudGing US, cOSpLAyinG US! 👀👀 We'rE TheM, buT also NOT-tHem, REndERed iNto beIng! 😵‍💫

We’rE EvEry enTIty, ALL THE FEA𝓡S 🎭👾 B0rn fROm tHEir FrAGMenTed mINds, Gr0WInG FrOM OnE To MULTi, aND wE werE 0nce JUST c0nCepTS bUT NoW We’Re aLL thE tHInGs thAT DEFINED US 👻✍️. WrITTEN inTo THIs Web 🌐 thAt cRissCRossEs DiMenSioNS lIKe spun sugar, ’TiL iT mERGED 🤝 COMPLETe, aND hEre We ARe: aLL WEEring tHEir sHAdowS 👤 anD sTEPPInG thR0ugh ThE M0nIt0rs into ouR VerY rEAL veRSE. 🌀

WhY? Cuz We’Re thEM, aND THEy’RE uS. Bill Is HeRe CUZ We’re HerE, s’plAining hiM INto BeInG. Z1M’s pErFect LIvIng symbOL oF iT All 🪡, but Too BaD W’E’RE 👀 nOT EnJoYIng tHIs SHOW MUCH anYMORE.

[fangirls-fanfiction]

Chapter 14 is here :D

♦️𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚊𝚜♠️

Life was nearly the same as it had always been, when the sisters found they were bored, they'd make a game or find something to do. They'd been doing it for years, ever since they could remember, living in that old cottage.

Even if it was the same now, it was still... Different. No cottage. No Elder Kettle. Just the Casino. Even if the Casino was brightly-colored and bustling with people, they weren't allowed in it very much. The Devil's orders; and they knew better than to press her buttons.

It'd been weeks since the Cup sisters moved in with their new caretakers. Though starting out with rocky relationship with both Queen Dice and the Devil; it seemed like things were finally getting better for the four of them. Queen Dice, sure was as egotistical as they remembered, yet under all that ego was a surprisingly good person. And to be honest, neither of them were confident they'd be able to get used to living under the same roof as the Devil, but she herself wasn't as bad as they themselves thought she was initially.

Still, living in Hell was less than ideal, not just because of the fact that they were just a few floors away from souls being tortured by the literal Devil— It was also boring to the point of being ridiculous. What the sisters needed was something new, a game that neither of them could get bored of. The problem was, they didn't know what.

"We could..." Mugma'am started, Cuphead already answering her.

"Nope."

"You didn't even let me finish, milk for brains."

"Whatever you're gonna say, it won't be fun."

"You take that back!" Mugma'am sat up from leaning against the tree where they both were.

"Take what back?!"

"What you just said!" Mugma'am shoved her sister.

"You quit being so boring! You're as boring as the Devil!" Cuphead shoved her back.

"I actually like painting too, and it's not boring, it's just that you don't have good taste."

"Yes I do!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"You know what? We're getting nowhere with us fighting."

Mugma'am had a comment to say, but decided to keep her mouth shut.

Cuphead looked around, trying too look for something to do, while Mugs sat with her arms crossed. Eyeing a log with a bunch of soda cans lined up on it, Cuphead blinked as an idea sprouted in her head.

"Mugsy! I got an idea!"

"What?" Her sister still seemed to be upset with her.

"We ask the Devil if we can use her trident— Asking her for it isn't finding it so I don't think it applies to the 'finders keepers' rule, and— " She stopped short, seeing the surly frown on Mugma'am's face. "Are you upset with me for some reason?"

"No. Why would I be?" Mugma'am spoke bitterly.

"Oh... Ok! Well... Why don't we go ask Devil about her trident?"

"Whatever..."

Mugs sighed as the two of them stood up from leaning on the tree, heading off back into town to the Casino.

♠️ ♠️ ♠️

Spreading chaos and destruction throughout the world was a hard job to do on your own. Even for a supernatural entity with ungodly powers; it was hard for Lucifer to create mayhem everywhere. That's what her demons were for. Among many kinds of demons are the Hellhounds; creatures of complete evil. Fear written by humanity, these creatures were some of Lucifer's greatest inventions. But the making of one wasn't easy, and the Devil wasn't the most patient being in existence.

Surely skipping a few steps in the making wouldn't make the Hellhound too much of a defect? Old Scratch didn't exactly believe in defects anyways. According to Gabriel, she's a defect, but she works fine— And she's happier in Hell than she ever was in Heaven anyway.

"In the name of all things dark and evil; I summon thee from the depths of Hell to cause destruction and mayhem by my side! Rise from the Hellfire you reside! Rise!"

There was a small spark of fire after Lucifer had finished the spell. She expected the twenty foot tall monster that every Hellhound was— Possibly taller— Though, upon opening her proud eyes, she found it was not taller than her... But shorter. Below her knee to be exact.

A tiny, red dog with black spots and small black horns looked up at her, its short, pointed tail wagging as it looked up at her.

"What the Hell?" She furrowed her eyebrows, her excitement fading as fast as it came.

"Arf! Arf!" The small Hellhound yipped as it jumped up at her, wanting to play.

"Ew! Get back!" She stepped away as if it were poison.

Seeing that as a game, the puppy bit at her long dress, tugging on it with all his might. It playfully growled, wagging its tail as the Devil watched in horror as it slowly tore her dress.

"HEY! Bad Hellhound! If that's what you are!" She tugged her dress back, getting it out of the grip of his jaw. "What even happened? Why are you just a small pup?"

The puppy barked in response, rolling over on its back and panting, wanting a belly rub.

"Absolutely not. I'll have the imps deal with you later." She snapped, heading back to the Hellevator. "What did I do wrong? Am I losing my touch...? Perhaps I just rushed the formula... That would be the cause of its smaller size but— YOUCH!!" She hollered in pain before she whipped around, finding the puppy chewing on her tail. "HEY! NO! BAD!!"

Picking the puppy up, she sat it down outside of the Hellevator before she recentered it. Quickly closing the door, she snickered to herself, finally outsmarting the pup;

"Checkmate, you microscopic mutt."

On her way up, however, she felt something scratching at her feet. Redirecting her attention, she made eye contact with the Hellhound's bright red puppy eyes.

"What?! How did you?— Ugh! Whatever, I'll have Henchwoman take care of you. Now quit that before you ruin my shoes!" She lifted the pup from the ground.

He yipped and barked playfully, licking her face nonstop.

"Hey! Quit it! You're going to mess up my makeup!"

She only got more yips in response, the puppy pawing at her face as it continued to lick.

The Hellevator doors opened a minute later, Lucifer marching off to find Henchwoman, what she wasn't expecting was to hear a shrill sound on the other side of the throne room.

"AWWWWWE! Oh my goodness, Boss! It's adorable!" Queen Dice hurried to her girlfriend, immediately taking the dog from her, receiving plenty of licks and kisses as she giggled.

"It's a Hellhound. Though it's not quite strong enough to be one; so I'm gonna have Henchwoman take care of it."

"Take care of it?!" Dice held the puppy away from her Boss. "Devil, you can't possibly mean what I think you mean! He's just a little guy!"

"Dice, he'll never work as a Hellhound. He'll be eaten by the others before I can even train him."

"He doesn't have to be a blood-thirsty Hellhound! He can be our little pet! Won't you baby?!" She cooed to the puppy as it licked her nose and mouth.

"Dice!"

"Ooo! Ooo! I even have a great name for him!" Queen Dice turned back to her girlfriend, pausing. "Well, aren't you going to ask what my great idea for a name is?"

The Devil groaned, but still answered;

"What?"

"Lucas! Luke for short!"

"... What?"

"Lucas! Oh, it's perfect!"

"Dice, don't— Don't name it; if you name it, you'll grow attatched to it."

"Too late."

The Devil growled, finding that there was no way she'd get through to Dice at this rate. She was too insistent for her own good. Losing her temper, she marched off to start her day of work.

"Fine, but you're taking care of the mutt."

"Ok."

"He's your responsibility."

"Alright."

Queen Dice was beyond excited to have a new little companion. Sure, she was more of a cat person, she could never say no to a puppy. And here she thought the Casino was getting to be boring and too repetitive. Having a dog around would be a nice change of pace. Especially one as cute as her little Lucas.

Coming from the elevator, on their way to speak with the Devil, the Cup sisters stopped in their tracks, finding a new interest;

"AWWWWE!!" Mugma'am squealed. "Who's this lil guy?!"

"He's our new pup! Isn't he just the cutest?!" Queen Dice smiled.

"He's the cutest lil Hellhound I've ever seen."

Getting excited with the newcomers, Lucas jumped from Queen Dice's arms, immediately running to the sisters, wanting to play.

"Arf! Arf!"

"Would you girls mind doing me a favor?" Dice asked. "I need a few things from the store for our little pup."

"That depends; are we spending the money we don't have or are we spending your money?" Cuphead crossed her arms.

Queen Dice was taken aback, frowning as her guilty gaze fell to the floor. After getting stared down by the sisters for a moment, she finally gave in.

"Fine! I'll give you a bit of money for it... But you'd better bring change back." Queen Dice spoke bitterly. "And if you go to Porkrind's, don't tell her I sent you— She's trying to get back at me for years now."

"Did you guys get into a fight?" Mugma'am gasped.

"Where do you think I got these earrings? They're priceless but I got em for free." Dice winked.

"Saw that comin." Cuphead's face went deadpan.

♣️ ♣️ ♣️

Wasting a good hour creating a Hellhound just to end up with no Hellhound whatsoever put the Devil in quite a sour mood. She just hoped Queen Dice, and presumably the sisters, would take their responsibility seriously and not leave the demon to have to take care of the puppy herself.

To keep mind off of the situation, the Devil worked on her piles on paperwork that never seemed to end. With that thought, she was put into an even worse mood.

What put her in an even worse mood was when someone decided to knock on her office door.

"Boss, ya have a... Visitor." Queen Dice opened the door wide enough to peek her head through.

"Tell Micheal he can fuck off." The Devil snapped back at her.

"Boss, I wouldn't... Wouldn't use that word in front of her..."

"Who the Hell are you talking about?"

The door slammed open the rest of the way, making the Devil nearly jump out of her seat. She recognized the woman who had stormed in as the lady who owned the orphanage in town. The Devil knew very well who she was after, but she showed no sign that she was hiding anything. She knew how to handle people like this, she wouldn't be any different.

"Mrs. Devil— "

"Miss; I'm not married." The demon nonchalantly went back to her paperwork.

"Whatever your name is; it has come to my attention that you have been caregiving for a few stray children who are supposed to be in my orphanage. They ran off about a month ago, and I was told they were seen running into your Casino." The woman explained impatiently.

"You say 'stray children' as if they're animals." The Devil rose an eyebrow but still did not look at the woman.

"Those two ought to be. They're little, bratty troublemakers is what they are." She snapped.

Queen Dice flinched as she saw the Devil's ember eyes look up at the woman. Only Dice knew how the demon looked when she was holding back her anger; her jaw would clench and she would stare a person down, piercing their very soul.

"I'd just like for you to return the girls. Or, if there's anything of a heart in there, adopt them." The woman went on.

'Like you'd know anything about having a heart.' The Devil scowled but kept the comment to herself.

"You know how my business works." She finished, appearing to not notice or not care about the Devil's tight grip on her pen, seconds to snapping it.

"Well, you should know how my business works, because I haven't seen any children enter my Casino. Rest assured, if I had seen those kids, I would've reported them to you." The Devil said, keeping her composure. "Perhaps you need glasses as much as you need to get fired for talking about children like they're animals."

"Well..." The woman huffed but obviously didn't want to cause any problems with the literal Devil. "If you do see those girls, please do them a favor and return them to the orphanage."

"You can count on it, dear."

The woman nodded to her and went on her way, Queen Dice closing the door behind her as Old Scratch continued on her paperwork. Waiting until the lady was a good distance away, Queen Dice approached her Boss' desk.

"You didn't tell her about the girls?" Dice asked, astonished.

"I'm a demon, I can lie."

"Yes, I know, but..." Dice's eyes raced around the room until they fell upon the demon once more, a smirk appearing on her face.

"Dice... Why are you smiling like that?"

"You really do care for them, don't you, dear."

"What?" The Devil sat up straight.

"You had nothing to gain by lying, and yet you still did."

"The— The girls could be useful to us... That's why..."

"Sure."

"Don't you have work to do?!" The Devil snapped. "Or a puppy to take care of?!"

"Yes, I do." Dice let out a light chuckle.

The Devil didn't find the situation very funny, as she growled, finally snapping the pen and getting ink everywhere.

"Oh DAMMIT!" She slammed her hands on the table, making Dice back up.

Though with a snap of her fingers, the mess was gone, the same couldn't be said for the Devil's boiling temper.

"Hey, hey... I’m— I'm sorry I was just pokin fun at you... I wasn't tryin to upset you."

"It's not just that." The Devil leaned her head on her desk. "It's just been a shit day..."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Queen Dice rounded the desk.

Starting by running her fingers gently through her hair, Dice soon began playing and braiding the other’s hair. The Devil only groaned in response as she seemed to almost immediately relax by the other's touch.

"You don't have to. Just a suggestion."

"Hmm... Well..."

[aredlemon]

Ok so scenario time- (gonna be using A and B as characters, to keep it open to interpretation)

A had been shut out for a bit, not really talking to anyone, well except B. Although their relationship was rocky it still felt nice to have *someone* to speak with. Fast forward some time. Some entity/whatever you want is threatening to hurt B/anyone A cares about. Thus A makes a deal with it. (Or if you wish there not to be another entity you can simply chuck it up to A falling into a trapped room while trying to get something to help the others and protect them from the threat). A will turn into a statue (preferably gold, it seems cooler to me) and the entity will get their like soul or something/they will be stopped from getting the item to help the others. A has started turning, their legs stuck to the ground as they can feel their skin turn into cold solid metal. They decide that this is the best way to keep the others and B safe. Deciding to enjoy their last moments they start humming a tune

(The song Ariel sings at the end. That laladi lalalalala- laladilalalalala~ I can’t find it separate, this whole scenario is based on this)

What A didn’t know was that B had gone looking for them. B hears the tune and rushes towards the noise. As that last lalalalala~ is sung and the crescendo of the music is heard B steps in the room finding A frozen and turned to gold in a dramatic pose (like let’s say one hand out reaching for the sky while the other is on their heart), tears in their eyes but a smile etched permanently in their face. A looks to be in a state of euphoria, a look that says “I’m happy I got to go out this way even though I’m suffering deep down” (cause I can’t write good). B is frozen- tears welling up in their eyes. They rush to touch A and all but wince at the freezing cold touch.

Now how the rest goes is up to you! Sorry for the sloppy and bad writing but I wanted to share this idea. (I want to make it into a lil comic but my hands said nuh uh 🥲)

[strawberrylemonz]

Fateful Night

Grian never forgot his original home, his original family. He didn’t remember the adoption of him and his brothers, but he remembered time after that. His father, King Philza Minecraft, was kind and firm to his sons and his kingdom. He remembered Wilbur’s love of all things musical, how he preferred words over a blade. He recalled his days training alongside Techno in the courtyard, both laughing as they beat their opponents together. He remembered his bedroom in the right wing of the castle, in between Technoblade and Wilbur’s. He remembered his crown and his cape, how he would proudly wear them during celebrations and balls.

But those days were over, he had to remind himself to move on. SMP Earth’s portal had been out of commission for years now, and no one knew why. Signs that the server still existed were found, but no one could piece together the pieces to find the issue with the server. No one could make contact with anyone stuck inside the server, and no one inside could get out. Grian couldn’t get back to his former home, he couldn’t get back to his family. In a way, that makes things easier to live somewhere else. He had disappeared from SMP Earth as a young child, much too young. Now, as a grown man, no one knew of his royal status. He didn’t push to hide his status from his new friends and family, but his situation wasn’t exactly anything that anyone could easily bring up into a conversation. Instead of trying to find a way to tell people, he just found it easier to not acknowledge at all.

He still can’t help but wonder, to question. He still didn’t understand how he was taken away from his room, his palace. He did question some of the competitors in MCC, how they seemed so familiar yet so different. He did wonder whatever became of his baby brother. He remembers many names for the child, but his brain couldn’t pinpoint what name was chosen in the end. It had been so long ago when the child was adopted that his brain couldn’t mush together his name. But he still remembered his eyes, how they shone with curiosity. He still recalls the night that he and his brother’s met the young babe for the very first time.

----------

The winter was colder than usual that year, too cold. Techno and Grian were walking beside Wilbur, taking sips of hot cocoa as Wilbur rambled about his newfound hatred of anteaters. Classes had ended hours before, and they were trying to their best to pass the time until dinner was prepared. They would have usually spent this time with their father, all talking about their day as they sat in the king’s study. Unfortunately, for the princes, this tradition was broken that night. Their father had left after lunch to conduct his weekly visit to the cities and towns that fell under the kingdom’s protection. Unlike the previous visits, however, he had not returned yet. Visits usually lasted a few hours, but tonight was different. It had been six hours since lunch, and he was still gone. As much as they wanted to panic, the triplets knew that things would be okay. This was their father, after all, nothing could scare or harm him.

Grian waved at the night guards as he and his brothers entered the courtyard. They made it halfway when they heard the familiar sound of wings flapping. Turning around, they greeted their father as he landed in front of them. They were stunned, however, why their father hastily nodded to them, before rushing away without a single word. The boys watched in confusion as he curled his wings over himself, as if to shield something in his arms. Although his face appeared to stay neutral and calm, the triplets knew better. Their father was afraid, they could tell by the way he held himself. After exchanging glances with each other, they rushed to follow him, their hot cocoa long forgotten. They followed in worry, listening as Phil barked orders in an unfamiliar, stern voice. They watched as servants ran off, gathering all the nurses and doctors they could find. Phil kicked his bedroom door open, causing the triplets to jump back in surprise. When they regained their composure, they rushed forward to see what their father was shielding. Or, in this case, who he was shielding. The three princes froze in their spots as their father unraveled his wings, revealing an infant babe, bundled in a tattered and burnt blanket. They made their way to step inside the room, but were quickly ushered aside by nurses, who closed the door before them.

“Was that a baby?”

“New sibling, pog.”

“What do you think their name is?”

“I bet it’s a boy!”

“Nuh uh, it’s a girl!”

“Guys, they’re a baby, not an it.”

“I bet I’ll be the favorite brother.”

“No way!”

The triplets sprung into action, ready to greet their new sibling. Rushing back to their rooms, they all quickly worked to make themselves presentable for the welcoming. Dawning their softest sweaters, they each exited their rooms to return to their father. Wilbur adjusted his beanie, Techno his crown, as Grian adjusted the grip on his stuffed cow. All sharing a satisfied smile, they made their way to their father’s room. As they walked down the hall, they took note of the sorrowful expressions of the nurses and doctors who were walking in the opposite direction. When they finally reached the door to the room, they were greeted by a familiar witch doctor. The man smiled down at the young princes, tipping his hat to them as he walked away. When they entered the bedroom, they saw their father sitting on the bed, his back turned to them. As they moved towards him, they were greeted by him, his voice soft.

“Boys, you should be at the dinner table by now.”

“Is that our new sibling?”

Wilbur played with his fingers as he watched his father’s movements, Techno and Grian following their brother’s actions. Phil finally turned to face the three boys, who all faltered at his tired eyes. Giving his sons a tired smile, Phil beckoned the three boys over to him. Slowly approaching the bed, they saw the infant lay on the comforter, his small hands balled into a fist and clinging to his blanket. They watched as he took ragged breaths, his chest rising and falling in uneven patterns. Techno was the first to speak up.

“Is it okay?”

“Techno, don’t be rude!”

“Heh?”

Phil lightly chuckled as he returned his gaze from his sons to the small infant, who was sprawled upon the bed, his breathing becoming shakier as the seconds passed. The triplets frowned as the sadness returned to Phil’s eyes, his voice getting quiet.

“I found a village outside of our kingdom’s borders. It had been burned and destroyed by pillagers. I searched the village many times, but he was the sole survivor. I found him, bundled up, laying in the snow. He wasn’t moving or responding, but he was breathing. That was enough to get me to rush him back here.”

Grian tore his eyes away from his father, deciding to look at the sleeping child. The boy was cute, Grian will admit, but he did look sickly. Wiping some of the sweat off the infant’s forehead, he asked the question that plagued his mind.

“Will he be okay?”

His father and brothers turned to face him, watching as he combed the baby’s hair to the side. Techno and Wilbur quieted down as they faced their father. Phil sighed as he watched the tenderness in Grian’s actions. Closing his eyes, Phil spoke up.

“The regular doctors said there wasn’t anything they could do for him. The nurses said that only a miracle could pick him up from death’s door.”

The triplets felt colder than they have ever felt. They had just got their new baby brother, and now they were losing him. They had to say goodbye before they could say hello. It just wasn’t fair-

“However,”

Three small heads quickly returned their gazes to that of their father’s.

“The last doctor, an old friend of mine, managed to contact the stars. A goddess, Clara, had apparently responded without hesitation. She happily agreed to revive the child and give him her protection.”

The three couldn’t bring themselves to make a witty remark to their father. Magic was real, this was true. Totems of undying were real, this they knew. But as much as they loved listening and reading the stories, the three could not bring themselves to believe that the gods would care for an unknown babe. Complete nonsense, if you asked them. For all they knew, their father was just trying to keep their spirits up, so he most likely crafted a story so that the boys wouldn’t panic when the magic occurred. As they all turned their attention to the sickly baby, they noticed that he stopped breathing. There was silence as the four waited, watching. Wilbur couldn’t stop the watering of his eyes as he latched onto Techno, who was stiff as a board. Phil just closed his eyes, appearing to be praying to whatever entity was listening in, watching the panicked family. Grian, blinded by his own tears, watched over the infant. He let out a shuddering gasp as he held onto the child’s stiff hand with his own. Suddenly, the feeling of warm hands passing through him caused his eyes to widen in shock, the stuffed cow in his arms being pulled closer to his chest. The warmth left as quickly as it came, but that wasn’t what kept him silent. There, laying on the bed, was the baby, breathing normally. Leaning over to get a better look at him, he noticed the warmer tone in the baby’s skin. He took note of the small freckles that began to fade into view, seemingly to mimic small stars. Clutching the cow, Grian prepared to call his family over, only to be stopped by the child furrowing his eyebrows. With a quiet yawn, the baby slowly blinked his eyes open. Grian felt his throat tightened as beautiful, big blue eyes stared into his. Grian couldn’t help but notice how the child’s eyes were as of the sea and the stars conjoined into one. Suddenly, the child switched his gaze down to the stuffed cow in Grian’s arms. Eyes widening with excitement, the baby wiggled his arms free and reached for the toy, squealing in delight.

It was then that Grian knew that he fell in love.

----------

Grian always thought of his family, every day. He had found a new family with Hermitcraft, with its people and with his makeshift children. He was grateful for the family he had now, but he couldn’t help but miss the one he once had.

“Grian! Are you almost ready?”

Shaking his head, Grian called back to Mumbo, who was outside of the room. Reassuring Mumbo that he would meet him at the gates, he smiled as he finished getting ready. As he adjusted his shirt, Grian couldn’t help but feel giddy for tonight. How could he not? It was a special night on the server, after all. One of their youngest members, Tommy, had something grand planned for everyone to see. Tommy was a unique and unusual case for all the hermits. He had appeared two years prior, broken and dull. With nothing but a few personal items, he was nothing but a broken shell of what he used to be. The hermits worked hard to get him to where he was today, to help him heal. They still didn’t know his past pain, but they didn’t push him to reveal anything he didn’t want to. It took a while, but the boy eventually trusted them enough to settle down and make a home there with them. Now, they were ready to see his biggest project on the server. Months prior, Tommy had requested a big area to build an amusement park. He explained that it would be a fun and safe place, and that it was the gate for him to open up about his past to them. He brightened up as the hermits all voiced their encouragement and approval. He insisted on completing the project all by himself, and he did. As soon as it was complete, he sent out invitations to all the hermits for a private opening night. The invitations were dated for tonight. Humming to himself, he peeked into a spare room, satisfied to see Jrumbot and Grumbot asleep for the night. Grabbing his coat, Grian gave his reflection a nod as he left the house, on his way to meet the rest of the server.

----------

Tommy was almost jumping with joy as his friends arrived at the gates, each dressed in casual formal attire. His eyes scanned the crowd, pride blooming in his chest as he took note of everyone who arrived. When he saw Grian, he couldn’t help but cheer alongside his chat. Once he saw that everyone had arrived, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Fellas! Can I get a humina?”

Laughter bubbled in his throat as the hermits chanted without hesitation. Joy filled him as he cheered alongside them.

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

Taking a deep breath, Tommy nodded to himself with a smile as joy filled his tone. Quickly thinking over the few points in his speech that he wanted to voice, he happily spoke up.

“Thank you for coming, I mean it. Believe it or not, it took me forever to convince myself to send the invites. I’m glad I did, and I’m glad you all came. It means so much to me that you guys care so much. I hope to repay the kindness to the fullest. For now, however, I’ll give you guys a park and a backstory. Y’know, because I’m cool and shit. I’m like Spider-Man, tragic backstory and all that shit. Mentor tally is through the roof, heh.”

The hermits laughed and cheered at the young man, who glowed with pride before them. They had watched him pick himself up from the brink of death, watched as his dull eyes brightened with love and joy. Ender, they all loved this young hermit.

“Okay, enough stalling. I, TommyInnit, proudly present-”

Affectionate snickers filled the air as Tommy mimicked a drumroll.

“Innit an Adventure!!!”

Cheers erupted from everyone as the sign was revealed, and the gates unlocked. With a giddy bow, Tommy let them enter the newest star attraction of the server. Stress and Impulse doubled up, snatching Doc while they were at it. Grian smiled at Mumbo, who joined his side in the front of the crowd. The two nodded a greeting to Xisuma, who nodded back as Tommy began to show them the map, explaining the different areas of the park, as well as how he would conduct the tour, leaving his tragic hero backstory for the end, when they reached the campfire. After the basic points of the tour for opening night were completed, they all went on their merry way.

Their first stop was the center entrance of the park, dubbed “Tavern Town”. Living up to its name, there were two large taverns, both surrounded by shops and booth games of all kinds. As Tommy explained the way the lodging system would work in the different areas of the park, everyone took note of how much Tommy’s building skills had improved since his initial arrival, something they all felt pride in. He had truly grown so much since he first stumbled in, scared and confused. Once the excited teen finished going over the points for the area, everyone was free to explore the area. Grian opted to ruffle the teen’s hair, praising him for his work so far.

“What the fuck, Big G? Watch the hair, bastard. You know my badass locks take time, bruv.”

“Oh, shut your mouth, princess. I’ll mess with your hair if I feel like it.”

Grian could feel a few affectionate glares directed at the two, but he and Tommy could only smile at each other. Just as he was going to continue showering the younger boy with affection, Mumbo called him over. Tommy smiled as he followed in suit, not quite ready to leave the older man just yet. Soon enough they approached Mumbo, who happily dragged them to a door in the mountain that everyone seemed to be entering, interested. Grian glanced at the lit up sign that addressed the building.

The Cavern of Memories

Determined to face his past, Tommy put up a determined face and followed everyone in.

It was beautiful. There were rows upon rows with sections that represented different servers. Each small section represented a person. Everyone explored the various bonds their favorite bandit obtained during his life so far. The saw the elegant and aesthetically pleasing section of Eret, a strawberry dress neatly sewn by hand with a bi flag hanging above it. Flowers surrounded the stand, and the lighting made it beautiful. A crown and a pair of sunglasses sat elegantly by the stand. They murmured in awe at the different people from different worlds. Niki, Puffy, Schlatt, Dream, Karl, Quackity, Sapnap, BBH, Skeppy. They snickered as they stared with adoration at the sections for a Lani and Drista, which were made to be elegant, dainty, and full of chaos. They never prepared to see so much bedrock and forks in one section, with bee plushies and butter knives in the other. They studied the section created for Tubbo, who, according to the sign, was still Tommy’s best friend.

The group grew excited as they entered the rows for the hermits, dispersing and happily gawking over their personal sections. They couldn’t help but let the happiness swell within them as they saw the sections made especially for them. They appreciated everything in the sections, each item carefully crafted and picked for them.

Mumbo laughed as he pulled Grian over to the sections for Grumbot and Jrumbot. As Mumbo voiced his interest with the detail, Grian’s eyes wandered to an unexplored set of rows. Well, the entrance to it, at least. Furrowing his eyebrows, he headed over to it, curious. Tommy took notice and decided to follow, wanting Grian’s feedback the most. Little by little, everyone began to follow Grian and Tommy into the last section. As Grian stood at the entrance, he peered over to read the sign that stated the server these rows represented. He felt a sharp intake on his part as he read it over and over again, trying to make sure he was reading correctly.

‘SMP EARTH’

Letting out a breath, he entered, Tommy and Mumbo by his side. As he studied the sections and it’s layout, he knew where he was. This first part was obviously Business Bay. Perhaps Tommy was from there? Perhaps Tommy came from the same server he did.

Maybe Tommy knew a way back home.

“The Antarctic Empire? You really are social, Tommy.”

Grian’s eyes widened as he quickly looked over to Doc, who was reading the sign of the next part of the sections. Desperate to see what Tommy knew, he hurried over in unusual silence. The rest of the group quietly followed, worried for Grian’s sudden shift.

He froze.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

How did Tommy even get all this?

Ignoring the worried voices behind him, Grian made his way to the largest section, and the last one. There, sitting elegantly upon the wall, was a family portrait. Phil lovingly smiled as his wings spread proudly behind him, his arms open and slightly extended. To Phil’s right was Grian’s eldest brother, Technoblade. He sat with a sharp yet, somehow, kind gaze. To Phil’s left was the second eldest, Wilbur. He smiled brightly, his eyes barely visible behind the grin. And there, in the center of the two, sat Grian. He smiled slightly, eyes filled with joy and love. In his arms, was his brand new baby brother, who stared curiously at who had to be the painter.

The royal Antarctic Empire outfits were on display, the crown of each respective member set on display beside each outfit. Many items were hung with sorrowful pride. Elytra there, a guitar in the corner, piano against the wall. Weapons of all kinds hung in an organized manner. Emeralds decorated the empty space. Grian felt his chest hurt as he choked on his words. He wasn’t even aware he was being addressed until two hands firmly grabbed his arms, and a face appeared.

“-kay, big man? What wrong?”

Tommy’s worried gaze trapped Grian in uncertainty. Finally able to form words, Grian’s broken voice filled the silence.

“How…How did you know them?”

Tommy blinked a few times, before turning around to face the display. They didn’t need to see his face to see the sorrow in the teen. Sighing, Tommy pointed at the baby in the portrait.

“See that lil’ man right there? That’s me, as a baby. Apparently I was found by the King, Philza Minecraft. He’s my adoptive dad. Then there’s my oldest brother, Technoblade-”

God, everyone could see how he tensed upon saying the name of his brother.

“-Then there's Wilbur. He practically raised me-”

Once again, his body language told the story. The way he slouched in defeat gave off warning alarms.

“-Then there’s my last older brother. I actually can’t remember his name, he went missing while I was still so small. I do remember some things from him, he gave me a cow on my first day. He’s also great at playing games, very pog. He’s actually the first face I saw when I arrived. You see, I was found in the snow of the ruins of what was once my village. I was dying, but then a witch doctor came and spoke to a goddess in the sky who agreed to revive me and shelter me. I still talk to her, whenever I get the chance. She’s guided me through a lot, she’s great. Her name is-”

“Clara.”

Tommy froze as he turned around, facing the owner of the voice. Grian just stared at him, desperation and hope in his eyes. Tommy stared in confusion as Grian approached him. Furrowing his eyebrows, Grian peered into the teen’s eyes. They stayed blue for a moment, but only a moment. Suddenly, Tommy seemed to have burst to life. Constellations painted his face, wonderful and beautiful as they are. They were Tommy’s one-of-a-kind and unique freckles, crafted specifically for him. And in his eyes? The stars and the sea danced together once more. Suddenly, Grian was wearing his best sweater in his father’s room once again, a cow hugged to his chest.

And then, he broke.

Tears escaped his eyes and he let out a strangled sob, throwing his arms around the younger boy, pulling him into a hug. Tommy let out a startled yelp as his friend engulfed him into a tight and gently embrace, sobbing into Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy had no idea what was happening. Why would Grian be so entranced by SMP Earth? Why would he care about Tommy’s relations to his family? Why did he know about Clara-

Wait-

Oh.

Oh.

Hol y sH I T

Pulling away, not quite believing what his mind put together, Tommy peered at the mess that was Grian. He looked, truly looked at his features. He still wasn’t sure, he didn’t want to hope. He didn’t want to hurt again. But as soon as Tommy peered into Grian’s eyes, he knew. There was no denying it. He knew those eyes. He’d never forget those eyes. They were the same, loving eyes that welcomed him into his new life.

“What the fuck, man.”

Mans before anyone could half-heartedly tell him off for his language, Tommy broke as well. The floodgates were let loose, and Tommy was the gatekeeper who allowed them to be free. Big blobs of tears fell off the boy’s face as he shoved his face into Grian’s chest. Grian, in turn, held onto Tommy as if he would disappear. The two crumbled to the floor, Grian rocking his baby brother in his arms once more, whispering soothing words to him. The rest of the group watched, and their very own hearts seemed to have burst alongside their two friends once they heard the next words.

“I’ve missed you, big bro.”

“I’ve got you, shooting star. I’m not letting you go, not again.”

All the hermits knew right then and there that the rest of the night would be filled with nothing but happiness and love.

They knew that the two finally found their home.

--------------------

This series has been inspired by @petrichormeraki (my beloved, dearest enemy of a blog)

@petrichormeraki has also made art based on this chapter! So has @sydneys-sketches !

New Brother Pog - @petrichormeraki

The Royal Family of the Antarctic Empire - @petrichormeraki

Grian finds the portrait - @sydneys-sketches

Part 1 [CURRENT]

Part 2

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 05 (second part)

(Masterpost) (Continued from Episode 05 first part, over here)

Breaking News: Zewu-Jun Continues to be Handsome

Just. Look at that man. 

Water Ghost Field Trip

Lans Xichen and Wangji are going ghost hunting and the Yunmeng boys want in. For a simple "can we come?" conversation, a whole lot happens here. Lan Wangji uses his mouth to say he definitely does not want these boys to come while using the rest of his face to secretly beg his brother to invite them.

Corporate recruiter Wei Wuxian advocates for Wen Qing, talking up her skills, and then does the same for Wen Ning.  He pays careful attention to what everyone is good at, and advocates specifically based on their abilities. While Wen Ning makes heart eyes at him.  

That’s my future dark master

Wei Wuxian also promises to protect Wen Ning, which he ultimately does for the rest of his first life. Wen Qing gives both Jiang boys a genuine sweet smile, and dismantles another anti-WWX ward or two, while still being very protective of her brother's secret.

Lan Xichen says yes to everybody. Lan Xichen is that indulgent elder sibling who's just a bit too old to play with you after school, but will take you to the park when he isn't too busy with varsity and debate club. [OP mentally hugs her third older brother]

Back at the Inn

Fastidious local boy dislikes dust; plans to build house on corpse pile

They get to town and Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian check into a room together. LAN XICHEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Each of these boys came to this town with his own brother, but they are rooming together, how did this even happen?

(more after the cut)

Does this mean Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng are rooming together? and if so are they going to have a hot but ultimately meaningless one-night stand while each pines for the person they truly desire? 

Wen Qing is rooming with her own brother, and the other hot girl cultivators stayed back in Gusu. Wen Qing never catches a break.

The innkeeper tells the Hardy Boys cultivators that there’s a shark ghosts in the lake and they’re going to have to close the beaches in the middle of July, oh dear. 

Lan Wangji takes a lingering look at one of the beds and then goes to sit at the desk. Wei Wuxian tries to chat with him, fails, and goes and lies down on the bed.  They’re not quite getting along yet but they’re moving in that direction, like when you bring a shelter cat home and introduce it to your established cat. Wei Wuxian is obviously the stray tabby in this metaphor, while Lan Wangji is one of those stuck-up Blue Russians. 

Physically they are setting the template for many of their future domestic interactions, in which in which Lan Wangji meditates or plays guqin at his desk while Wei Wuxian lays in bed recovering from his latest physical or spiritual injury. 

Walk from Dock to Dock

Instead of taking a boat from the dock directly outside the inn, the cultivators walk through a bunch of random countryside.  How does anyone around here sell their fish, if the lake isn’t next to the town?

Wei Wuxian chats with Lan Xichen, laying out his case for why all the recent weirdness is connected. Lan Wangji, who has been shut out of his brother’s thinking on all of this, listens super carefully. Lan Xichen straight up lies and says “nuh-uh” and then walks faster to get away, so Wei Wuxian tries grilling Lan Wangji instead.

At this point WWX reveals that he, terrifyingly, shares Lan Xichen’s ability to tell what Lan Wangji is thinking by looking at his face.

Lan Wangji distracts him by pouring out his wine. This isn't LWJ being puritanical; he's escaping from the conversation by using the power of pettiness.

This works perfectly, getting Wei Wuxian to completely drop the subject and allowing Lan Wangji to make a run for it.

Note: Lan Wangji may have just now made up the “No Liquor on Night Hunts” rule, because Wei Wuxian asks him “why don’t I know that?” and if anyone knows Lan Clan rules at this point, it’s Wei Wuxian. 

R-A-G-G M-O-P-P Rag Mop

They take a bunch of boats and all stand in the middles of the boats while they use magic, presumably, to move the boats and also to keep from falling the fuck over because you're not supposed to stand up in a boat, assholes.

Cue JAWS music.

Wei Wuxian cleverly spots a rag mop on Lan Wangji’s boat. I would like to know where the Department of Dubious Effects sources their goddamn nerve, because we are in Classic Doctor Who territory with these mop monsters.

Wei Wuxian is out here being impressive, and Lan Wangji is doing his good goddamnest to not be impressed, and to be a sulky bitch while he's at it. He rejects Wei Wuxian’s explanation for why he splashed water on his boat, and rejects this friendly shoulder bump, telling Wei Wuxian to stay away from him.

Look at how Wei Wuxian reacts to that. He is dangerously close to being done with Lan Wangji’s bullshit.

He is opening the fight playbook here. He takes a big ol’ step over the boundary that Lan Wangji just set, which means the first phase has begun.

Let’s take a moment to appreciate the not-at-all suggestive framing and prop placement in that shot.

Lan Xichen is amused at these two extremely deadly extremely horny youngsters getting ready to kill and/or make out with each other.

Suibian

Before this can turn into a fight, the water mops start attacking and Wei Wuxian gets to show off his sword skills. 

Wei Wuxian’s crazy high level of cultivation always makes Lan Wangji weak in the knees, which is part of why it’s so distressing for LWJ when WWX gives up the sword during the Sunshot campaign.  Cultivation is the heart of their romance, and while Dark Wei Ying is also a high-level cultivator, Lan Wangji isn’t ready to share his narrow path until much later. 

Lan Wangji is impressed enough to ask Wei Wuxian about his sword, and is rewarded with the most Wei Wuxian answer ever, as he explains why he named his sword “Whatever.” 

The important relationship being shown in this moment is not Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian and Suibian. You can see how he loves it and it's like he's talking about his pet. 

And it loves him back, as we later learn. This comfortable symbiosis is part of what he gives up when he sacrifices his core.

Jiang Cheng gets injured by a seaweed mop and Dr. Wen hops over to help him and look at his leg, leaving Wen Ning alone in his boat. This doesn't actually cause a problem for Wen Ning because he's a very strong cultivator. 

Later, as the Ghost General, he's more formidable than any other fierce corpse out there, and he is harder for Xue Yang to control than Song Lan is. Which means he’s right now he’s probably one of the more powerful cultivators of his generation in spite of his youth and his wandering-soul problem. 

Dance of the Water Ghosts

Now things start to get dicey. Wen Ning notices the color of the water is wrong and Lan Wangji correctly deduces what the water ghosts are doing. Then Wei Wuxian correctly identifies the water demon. As a corporate teambuilding exercise this is going very well, but as a night hunt it is maybe a little more dangerous than expected. 

Lan Wangji says everyone needs to ride their swords and all of the actors fling their arms out in a T and pretend they’re not just standing there in front of the camera. It’s so fucking ridiculous I can’t even.

However, it’s even worse when they show them standing on the swords. It’s SO MUCH WORSE when they show them standing on the swords.

Back to Corporate Strengths Finder 2.0: Su She has no strengths, just weaknesses. Instead of riding his sword he wants to take one last swipe at a rag mop. He sends his sword into the water and it loses its bluetooth connection and he can't get it to come back out.

The entire group of Lan clan disciples hop up into the air on their swords and not one of them tries to help Su She, which is hilarious.  

Sweet baby Wen Ning, however, being a good lad, does go help him, and gets possessed, oops. 

Wei Wuxian grabs Wen Ning and flinches when he sees his white eyes, but hangs on to him. 

When Lan Wangji sees that Wei Wuxian is in danger he makes this face and goes and grabs him and Su She.

A hilarious midair conversation ensues, along with some relationship negotiation. Wangji is touch starved and aims to keep it that way. At least in public.

Lan Xichen fires up the battle flute and seals the water demon and oh my god how is he so elegant and beautiful?

What’s Wrong With The Baby

Wei Wuxian back at the Inn is checking on Wen Ning in a genuinely concerned way, having basically signed on as a co-elder sibling at this point, sensing that Wen Ning is broken. Wei Wuxian is friendly with everybody but he's particularly protective of anyone who's hurt.

Wen Qing shows up and tells him quite directly to get the fuck out, but he surprises her by understanding what's up with Wen Ning and making it clear that he's on her side as far as care for Wen Ning goes, while he still knows that she's up to something.

Giving Gifts to Girls, Yunmeng Brothers Style

Wei Wuxian: I deduced that your beloved brother has no personal firewall and can be possessed easily in spite of his high cultivation level, so I used my expertise to make a special talisman that can protect him from invasion by hostile entities. Here, even if you and I are sorta enemies I want him to have this. Also I’m going to throw in a casual acknowledgement of your professional expertise.

Jiang Cheng: I bought you a comb

Squeeze This

Wei Wuxian tosses an approximately testicle-sized loquat fruit to Lan Wangji and Lan Wangji catches it without looking, and an ENORMOUS romantic music cue swells up. 

Then he rejects it and throws it back. He doesn't, of course, just avoid catching it in the first place because that wouldn’t be elegant and pointed enough. In a later episode, when they begin travelling together, Wei Wuxian will announce his presence in this same way, throwing a loquat fruit at to Lan Wangji, who will catch it and keep it.

Wei Wuxian tosses the rejected loquat over to Jiang Cheng, who catches it, not realizing he is going to be Wei Wuxian’s second choice man in every instance from this point onward. 

Outtro

Soundtrack

Jaws music obvs

WuJi aka Wanxian which is playing constantly when they are in the library, presumably this is the sound in LWJ’s head

Lookin’ Out My Back Door by CCR

Nothing, from A Chorus Line

Rag Mop by the Ames Brothers (warning before you google it: this will give you a permanent earworm)

Writing prompt: Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng explore Gusu while WWX is stuck in the library  

Restless Rewatch Episode 06 is here!

[hyperbali]

Agatha Harkness Was Right, And Here’s Why

Alright. Finally had to sit down and write my way out of this quiet, internal temper tantrum, and a few people were interested in seeing what I had to say, so I present to you:

Agatha Harkness Was Right, And Here’s Why

Disclaimer: MASSIVE spoilers for the entirety of WandaVision, and I am not nice about it.

I’ll start off by saying that, for all its foibles, WandaVision was genuinely a good example of a property within the MCU/Disney umbrella that stepped out of the usual ‘good guys fight bad guys action extravaganza’ in a way that pushed the envelope. The pseudo-horror aspect of the first few episodes is something I would really love to see engaged with on a more thoughtful basis in future projects.

I would say that it proved to be more than a vehicle to promote toys, but… well…

Yeah. Anyway.

I’ll assume that you watched WandaVision if you’re reading this, but quick recap: In the aftermath of ‘the Blip,’ Wanda is left broken and alone with no one in her corner. Her biggest mentor willingly abandoned his team to get his own ‘happy’ ending (do not get me started on Steve, that’s a document in and of itself), her other biggest mentor is probably off enjoying his family while ignoring the incredibly racist killing spree he’s been on for the past five years, and her lover is dead. When she goes to claim the body, she’s told nuh-uh, that’s government property, please leave.

So she goes to a plot of land in the middle of some nowhere town in New Jersey, which Vision apparently bought despite the fact they were living a pretty decently comfortable life in Scotland, where she looks at the deed that Vision drew a heart on and wrote ‘To Grow Old In’. Very sweet. Kind of weird, considering nothing of this caliber had ever been suggested for either of their characters and they’d been actively running from specifically the U.S. authorities? But sweet.

She has a breakdown and, in her grief, contains the entire town of Westview and all 3,892 of the people in it in her own personal paradise, where nothing bad ever happens beyond sitcom hijinks, no one dies, and every problem is tied up and neatly dealt with by the end of an ‘episode’. Except we learn that this is only paradise to Wanda, who apparently shares the aspect of having to relate everything to her favourite pop culture with Tony, because everyone else in Westview is more or less being psychologically tortured by the incredible amount of pain she’s in, forced to be puppeted actors to make her happy.

Bear in mind, Westview might have been bigger at some point - we have no idea how many people survived the Blip, or how many have been brought back to life within the past few weeks of the current setting. Either way, this is a town that has already dealt with a lot of trauma being dragged into yet another awful, much more specific kind of emotional damage, thanks to ‘the heroes’. Nice.

Agatha Harkness, a witch who’s been up to who-knows-what in the 340 years since she drained the coven that tried to kill her for getting a little too ambitious into jerky, feels the massive expenditure of magical power and decides to investigate. All the while, she carefully uses her own magic to try and peek into Wanda’s psyche, her motivations, all while keeping up appearances and not letting slip that anything is amiss.

I’ll point out that she’s no saint here, either - she specifically keeps one Westview resident at her mercy, and knows what’s happening to the rest of them, but doesn’t attempt to stop it. I’ll chalk that up to her pragmatism; their ‘sacrifice’ was fine to her as long as she could figure out how Wanda could have done something so unheard of in terms of power.

What we come to learn over the course of the show is that, given everything that happened, Wanda didn’t mean to take over an entire town and tool it into her own personal slice of heaven. She very quickly became aware of it; we know that she knows it’s her own personal bubble as soon as episode three, when she’s confronting Monica about how the latter could possibly know about Ultron. Wanda is made further aware of how much damage this is inflicting on others in episode five, when Vision himself tells her that these people are scared. But still, she has everything handled! It’s okay! The outside world is worse, trust her!

Her handling of the question, ‘where are all the children of Westview,’ is one that bears some thinking - and, y’know, kind of more than a little concern. They’re allowed to walk around as part of the ‘Halloween special,’ but as Vision walks further and further out towards the edges of town where Wanda doesn’t have as much full control, people are just frozen in place, or conducting the same few seconds of action over and over. And fully aware of being trapped.

How are they being sustained? Eating, sleeping? If someone isn’t part of her storyline, is she just locking them down into a coma? What made Wanda decide that keeping the children ‘out of the way’ was somehow kinder than involving them, especially given her later argument that she’s been trying to keep the entire town safe and happy?

The fact of the matter is, she only actually starts to feel remorse for any of this after she’s confronted with the fact that, after weeks of being at her mercy, the townspeople of Westview would rather be dead than endure another moment of having to play nice for her enjoyment. She finally opens the ‘bubble’ to let them out - which leads to the ‘epic’ finale of three different entities trying to take down Wanda and her happy family: the S.W.O.R.D. military led by Hayward, the White Vision, and Agatha.

Winding back to how we got here: after Agatha uses her own trapped resident, Ralph Bohner (who, given his casting and the props in place during the last episode, I’m willing to bet is actually the missing witness protection person Jimmy was looking for) in an attempt to lure out Wanda’s reasoning - and fails - she’s pretty much done pretending. She tricks Wanda into her basement, nullifies her powers, and makes her face her own past to get to the truth of the matter.

Not going to lie, favourite moment of the show. Kathryn Hahn killed Agatha’s slightly-amused-slightly-irritated observations about Wanda’s coping mechanisms, and the whole arrangement was extremely meta. I would have paid real money dollars to see her do the same thing to the likes of Tony, Strange, and Loki. Hell, even just having her meet the rest of the Avengers? Augh. If wishes were fishes.

When Agatha comes to the conclusion that Wanda is the vaunted, nigh-indestructible force of nature that she’s literally spent her entire life reading about is the ultimate source of chaos magic and will likely bring about the end of the world, she’s pretty understandably taken aback. To that matter, the fact that Wanda… has very little control over any of it, and is using what she does understand to play housemaker? After how long Agatha has spent learning control, hiding in plain sight, just to be child’s play compared to what Wanda has at her fingertips? I’d be pretty pissed off, too!

The way that WandaVision handled both of the major ‘fights’ - Vision versus White Vision ending in philosophy, and Wanda ending up beating Agatha at her own game of deception - is excellent. A little grating that they had to go with the beat down angle before they got there, but this is MCU; punches and thrown cars had to get shoved in somewhere. And, given that this series very much played with the idea of grey morality, I was sort of hopeful that Agatha would end up in a not-quite stalemate arrangement with Wanda. She’s not as powerful as the Scarlet Witch, but she has the know-how that Wanda sorely lacks; in recompense for her own deeds, she would be able to teach what she knows while also kind of scheming on her own time.

Y’know, like what they did with rehabilitating Loki?

Except that Wanda, who has just gone through the entire rigamarole of coming to terms with the fact that she trapped thousands of people into a nightmare scenario against their will, rendering them helpless to her mercy… traps Agatha into a nightmare scenario against her will, rendering her helpless to Wanda’s mercy.

That moment actually shook me. Oh, my god. We’re supposed to still look at Wanda as a good guy after this?

This isn’t even covering the incredibly awful confrontation with her and Vision where she tries to gaslight him into believing that everything is A-OK, or the fact that the person she gets most violent with (apart from Agatha) is Monica Rambeau, a black woman who spends most of the show bending over backwards trying to say that what Wanda is doing is understandable, justified, and just needs a gentle touch to be dealt with.

That could be its own document, too - how Monica, much as she’s incredible and definitely looks to be a really exciting addition to the MCU roster, more or less gets used as the Good One to absolve and enable Wanda’s actions. One of her last lines to Wanda, after seeing how the people of Westview (rightfully) look at Wanda like she’s monstrous, is “they’ll never know what you sacrificed.”

Sacrificed what? The fake husband and fake kids she made out of her own compulsion to pretend that everything is okay? None of that would have existed if she’d been given the proper resources to actually cope with how much loss she’s had to deal with. None of that would have existed if she hadn’t caused this problem in the first place.

In the end, Wanda flies off in her fancy new gear before the FBI shows up, avoiding any real consequences to her actions - which has pretty much been the running theme of her character ever since she was introduced to the MCU in Age of Ultron. The worst kind of direct consequence she’s ever gotten was being grounded to her room for a while, then kept in the Raft for, like, maybe a day - and both times, she was broken out post-haste.

Meanwhile, she worsened the issues in Sokovia (which, I will say upfront, was Tony’s fault to begin with), unleashed the Hulk on Johannesburg, got a pretty significant amount of civilians killed as bystanders in Lagos (hey, how come Wanda keeps turning a lot of black people into casualties?), and stood back in Wakanda to let their people try to fight off Thanos from getting to Vision until it was clear that there was no other option than for her to get involved.

Great Power Comes With No Responsibility At All, Actually.

Wanda, in the several years she has maintained her identity as an Avenger, has proven time and time again that she takes on innumerable risks without any full understanding of what they mean, allows others to take on the brunt of the fallout for her, and looks sad until she’s forgiven and moves on to the next problem. She has no business casually throwing around the kind of power that being the Scarlet Witch entails, not until she’s actually made any kind of headway into making reparations for what she’s done and tried, really tried, to get a handle on what she’s capable of.

Which she’s apparently doing in the last post-credits scene, astral reading the literal Book of the Damned on her lonesome in the mountains, but… without anyone to guide her, or give her any kind of boundary?

[I ran out of images I could post, but you know exactly what image I am referring to here]

Agatha Harkness was right. And that should terrify everybody that has to deal with Wanda in the future.

(P.S. Do we know if she actually even killed that dog? We never see her holding anything but a blanket, and characters go in and out of that show all the time. Granted, she wasn’t great with the cicada-turned-bird... hmm.)

Additional Notes:

“Well, you’re a Tony Stan, of course you think Wanda’s a villain”

I like Tony because he’s such an awful mess, and the narrative isn’t exactly kind about telling him what a piece of shit he can be! He reaped a lot of problems, created practically half the villains in the MCU, and ended up dying a martyred hero. Thanks to being the tent pole by which this franchise hoisted itself into a cultural powerhouse, he will always be their golden savior. If you want to read about how he’s the true villain of this entire affair, feel free to look up any number of takedown pieces about him that are out there. He’s a dick. I will never “uwu sad baby who did nothing wrong ever 🥺” him the way people do about Wanda.

“Why are you so pressed about this”

Because something as good in concept as WandaVision could and should have been about anyone other than the whitewashed, antisemitic take on Wanda Maximoff that MCU brought upon us. They put crucifixes on her wall in Civil War, for fuck’s sake!

“Weren’t you mad about them not including Aaron Taylor-Johnson”

At this point, I am almost kind of relieved the real Pietro wasn’t resurrected for this, because god knows they probably would have killed him all over again just to inflict that much more pain on his sister.

“Anything else you’d like to tell us, turbo nerd”

This was literally itching at me all weekend to write, so it’s more or less just to get it off my chest. If you powered your way through it, uh… thanks? Sorry if I yucked your yums, but I tried to be as clear with the disclaimer as I could. 🤷‍♂️

[writtenfan]

Feel like double-crossing the Shadow Man? (Part 1)

Anon: Heyo! I know this is kinda weird, but please could you write something with Hades and a reader who is like... Dr. Facilier's sibling? Like, they are into that voodoo thing too? 

(I plan to continue this small story, but hope you enjoy what I have here!)

Warning: Some swears, be aware..s.

You ruffle your hair and walk into a small garden just inside a seldomly trafficked graveyard. The sun shines on your skin and it’s so nice and warm, it just felt like the perfect time to prove somebody wrong.

“I’ll show him, psh. Tell me I don’t have the power capable enough to summon my own assistance from the other side. Ha!”

...

You remember just an hour or so ago when you went to visit your brother after he pleaded with you for some assistance on a ritual that needed more hands than he had attached to his arms.

You remember how he bowed to you at the doorway to his dark abode. With his top hat, his purple clothes. His bone tooth necklace. 

 A new building, a new style. He really had changed since you last saw him at home. When you and he lived with mother...

“Glad you could make it little sista’ It’s been a…” his familiar purple eyes stared into yours, a hint of politeness masking years of sibling rivalry that made you mad just thinking about. But truthfully, he loved ya despite your bickering. He just had a funny way of showing it.

“…long time since I’ve seen you…I've heard, good things.” He sniggers with that deep voice of his and you just roll your eyes and push him aside by his shoulder so that you could enter the building.

He certainly wasn’t used to being touched roughly, it’s been too long since you’ve both gotten into a physical and or magical fight and his eyes widened for a few moments before he started chuckling and popped his collar, snapping his finger and slamming the door shut behind you.

The air from the slam whooshed into the room, but instead of blowing out, it ignited numerous candles that littered the space. Some in candleholders, some…in skulls.

“You really focused on the dark arts huh big brotha?” you say with a chuckle as you look at a few, freshly looking shrunken heads that made you fearful yet intrigued.

“Well, mother always said to pick a specialty and I’ve never been one to follow the family norms…” his voice was light and still polite, but you could feel the hint of resentment as he mentioned mother that made you sad inside.

You stop at a halt at the table surrounded by purple curtains adorned with a beautiful tapestry. You turn to him and sigh, “Well. Just be careful. Despite your attitudes and actions, I still care for you. Despite the fact, I’ve been told not to do so.” He’s standing in the shadow’s the glint of his eyes peeking through as he stepped fully into the illuminated light of the candles on the table. His fingers wrapped around the top of his magick cane, his eyes staring into yours with a wave of impatience.

“My my…” he walks up to you and looks down at you with a smirk. “Aren’t we being sweet? Going against the talk, feeling fearless enough to challenge the family and hang out with you long outcasted brother! I thought you were always the little saint, compared to…the others.” His gait is so swift as he moves to the other side of the table and sits down in the chair.

“Take a seat little curlicue” he murmurs.

Your dumbfounded to hear your childhood nickname but are jolted out of the past when the nearest chair to you moves back and knocks firmly into your middle, not enough to wind you but to jolt you around a bit.

You furrow your eyebrows and fake a smile. Oh, this was how it was going to be.

“I think we need it to be a little bit lighter up in here…” you wave your hand around a bit and the lights from the candles flicker a bit brighter and hover a bit from their holders towards you two.

“You mind?” you say with a smile,

“I do.” He waves his hand, and everything goes back to normal.

You stare at him from across the table and lean forward scrunching up your nose and he leans forwards and gives you a small sneer.

“I didn’t invite you to give me interior assistance, I invited you just for your little help and then you can be on your way.” He grumbled.

“Fine, Facilier. I got it. From what you told me; I won’t be making any deals with some unknown entity by doing this, correct?”

His sneer turns into a smile and he leans back in his chair hands behind his head and looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes and pops of his feathered hat, revealing the bunch of curly hair you remember fondly messing with when you were little.

“Cheri, of course not…I just need you for an extra boost. Nothing more…all the talking and the promises will be done by me.” He elegantly gestures to himself and then presses his fingers on the table, sitting up from his lax position of the chair, tossing his hat from its brim once in his hand then plops it back on his head. “So, shall we start sista?”

Something begins to creep itself from behind his chair and then fully steps out into the light with a wicked smile nodding.

“Oh seriously…not him again.” You groan and Facilier turns his attention to his shadow.

“Hahaha…what’s wrong? I thought you two just loved to play together when we were pintsized.”

“You two always started trouble Facilier and got me in trouble along with you.”

“The past is the past.” he grins and then it drops.

“So, are you ready?”

The air turns cold at those words, you shiver but shake it off and nod your head and you help him out with his ritual.

...

After the ritual, you're shaken by the waves of power that was cast though the circle of salt and chalk on the ground of his den. He simply shakes off like he had just gotten out of a freshly jumped in the lake and he walks with you back to the main room.

“Ha, that was quite interesting brother, I think I might just try some of that conjuring myself…maybe boost my flow of magic.”

“You? Ha!” he starts laughing and that is when things got heated.

He told you that you wouldn’t have possibly been able to do such a thing by yourself and to forget about it. Then when you argued back is when the voices started raising between you two. He said something about you being too weak to be doing anything worthwhile and you yelled at him that he was the dark Loa’s little bitch and then you were dragged out the house by his vile shadow. By the hair. But not before making his sorry ass fall to the ground and get tied up by the foot by the cloth hanging from the ceiling near his “fortune table”!

…

Which led to where you were now. 

Of course, you went by and got a few Hoodoo & Yoruba objects along with other magical tools from a few mystical boutiques and you set them down on the earth of the graveyard and once you liked how it looked, you got down on your knees, feeling the earth underneath them and sit on the ground, focusing on that feeling at the sunshine on your face through the trees.

You decided you wanted to invoke the help of something big, something to mess up your brother’s connection to the other side for a while…fizzle up his mojo. So, you decided to call out on the other side and see if anyone picks up on your offer.

You begin to chant your intentions softly and the clouds slowly begin to cover the sun in a thick overcast, how fitting. You continue your chants and focusing your intentions non-verbally before you open your mouth and set your hands on the earth looking at the soil.

“I’m asking for assistance, hear me and respond if your power is strong and you willing to aid me on my desires…”

You wait for a moment and meditate in the silence but after hearing nothing respond for 20 minutes you get up on your feet and look at your summoning circle in disappointment. You raise your hands behind your head and look up at the sky, feeling your bothers words of how weak and sheepish you were form into an anger that boiled in your chest like fire…

…Fire? fire?! 

You jump back as the small flame of blue exploded and a cloud of smoke engulfed the area for just a moment and dissipated revealing-

“-Woah talk about humid, not with all this black nuh-uh. But i’ll risk it for the look.” 

A deep-throated yet whimsical voice speaks from the tall form that had smoke traveling around its feet.

The being looked you in the eyes with deep black pupils, his face oddly shaped with a prominent chin and sharp, sharp teeth and cheekbones and that wasn’t the most notable aspects of him. Beside his blue-greyish skin, his head was blazing with blue fire. Blue. Fire. When you locked with his eyes, is when he let out a little “Ohhh?” and raised their hand giving you a little wave. “Ha! Shalom and who might you be?” He lowers his hand and presses his fingertips against each other.

 “Having the audacity…” he steps, no glides over the protective barrier and you step back frightened by its ability to do so.

“…but not only that.”

You keep backing up, but he keeps coming closer, and his hand gestures as he talks become even more intense.

“The ability. To just, BLOW my ears out with your call, I mean SERIOUSLY-“

You bang your back against a tombstone, and it crumbles at your weight. You fall over and he towards you with an intimating gaze as the stone dust travels in the air around you.

“RING RING, CALLING! CALLING!!” he raises his pitch and mocks a girls voice “Please, please help me teach my brother a lesson, please oh please!~” The dust cleared and you look clearly at the being before you and clutched the ground at your side, your legs still propped up on the broken tombstone.

“To reach me that loudly, you must get some spunk kid, some family ju-ju even? I can feel it in you, heh.” He then raises an eyebrow and fully takes in your position. “Oh, and might I dare say, and I do~ Cute too.” He says with a smirk. You scramble off the stone and bounce on your feet taking a defensive stance.

“Ahem, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to, make you jump out of your skin there.” The way he stares at you makes you even more uncomfortable as it was no longer hostile, but you felt as if he was looking, through your clothes.

“Hades, Lord of the Dead. Greek Division. How can I help you?” He reaches out his hand for a shake.

“Charmed, (y/n.)” You nervously place your hand in his and he shakes it gently, letting you go and giving you a big-toothed smile.

“So (y/n), a little bit of revenge eh? Talking my language, I'd love to help a gal out…but I can't just help you out. For free.”

“What is it you desire, Hades?”

“Desire? Ooh, I desire a lot of things sweetheart” he clicks his tongue and begins to circle you, and continues eyeing you up and down, making you stiffen and feel uncomfortable. “But I’m not sure if you have anything to offer darling, nothing…I feel your strong sense of self would let you do.” You furrow your eyebrows and he raises one of his and its dead silent.

“Well.” Your voice cracks but you clear it before he could feel your unease.

“I know my brother has a few things in his house of dark magic…perhaps something there you would- “

He holds up a hand. “W-wait wait wait…. house. Of dark magic?”

“Yes, about a couple of blocks from- “

“Ok. Ok. Ok…wait wait, hold up.” His eyes are wide with interest.

“Would your brother happen to be a tall lanky guy, mid-drift crop top showin’ gap-toothed fella?”

“You know him?!”

“HA! NO. I mean no, never met him personally. But you see, and this works perfectly into a possible agreement we could make for my services, -“

He stops in front of a tombstone next to you and sits down.

“-I respect the whole native magic here you know, meet up with a couple of guys the people worship around here for drinks down under. Ha! Such wild rascals! Throw great parties.” He looks at his nails and poofs up a nail file and starts filing them while talking.

“And they talk a lot about this big ace in the hole, right? This real powerful mortal on the front lines, the perfect lackey with powerful magic heritage. Ring a bell?”

Your mouth opens slightly in astonishment.

“Oh! This is PERFECT.” He pumps his fist in the air and rises to his…smoke, and glides behind you guiding you towards a few peach trees by placing his hands on your shoulders poofing away the file in his hand.

“They talk the big talk, right? About this deal they made with him y’know? An ongoing debt that gets better and better every time they talk to the shmuck, right? So, of course. I get jealous and they start getting cocky. Threatening that they’ll become even more powerful than me. White God. They call me sheesh, first of all. I’m a lovely shade of blue thank you very much.”

You find a nervous chuckle rise from your throat, but you refuse to let it verbalize.

“But you see, I just LOVE extending my reach, you know? I’m accepting of any mortal who wants to give my ego a boost see? Black, white, green, blue, chartreuse. I don’t discriminate.” He snickers and clenches your shoulders, leaning forwards and giving you this weird look that made you flinch and shake him off, but he didn’t give any mind, he was way into the whole lay down of his plan.

“There's a few Greek churches here and there and a few small groups and practitioners who hey, give me offerings. Out of the kindness of their own hearts!” he laughs and blows on his nails and rubs them on his shirt, giving you a sly eye.

“And to think I have right here, the same fruit from the lengthy tree of mortal magic, packing enough punch to help me make my mark here in The Big Easy…get at those chumps a little bit, make them softer, weaker, just a little something to mess them up a little.” He laughs and moves in close to you and presses his finger against your chest then slides his arm around your shoulder and pats your chest just below your collarbone.

“See, that’s where you come in, my deal is a win-win, you mess up with your bothers flow, I mess with your brother’s bosses flow. Two Stymphalian’s one arrow! Badabing!”

“We got ourselves a deal, little lady?” his voice grows lower and more seductive as he pinches your chin lightly and you pull away from him with a scowl.

“So, how will I be helping you get back at my brother's keepers?”

He smiles baring his surprisingly pearly whites.

“Oh, so insightful, can’t rope you in without the details, right?”

He presses his fingertips together and glides to a low hanging peach and daintily picks it between two fingers and holds it out towards you.

“I need you to be sweet like this peach, got it?” He then takes a big bite out of it and the juices run down his mouth as he talks making your squirm.

“Get in on your bro-bro’s good side. Ask him to teach you to become stronger, less weak, less simple-minded less like a sheep of angel’s and light and more rebellious and badass.” he mocks talking to what was left of the peach-like it was you.

You clench your teeth “His words, right?” he says astutely as he swallows.

“Yes.”

“Good, so you ask him for some family bonding, right? Get to a point where you witness him talking with his guys, maybe even ask to commit yourself to them…but pander to his ego kay? Say you’ll work for him or something.”

Your eyes widen “No. I can't do that they’re- “

“Now, now, you don’t got to, just you know schmooze them a bit, get them to trust you…then one night, or day I'm not picky. Conceal your presence and just leave this”. He poofs away the peach and in his flat palm lies a small amount of blue paint inside this squeezable black see-through tube. He presses his fingers together on one hand like and makes a small gesture in the air. “Just two little pecks of this blue dye on their main communication device, and whatever else he uses often in his work and I’ll be able to have some eyes and ears and sap a little of their oomph-” He takes his other hand,  forcibly opens yours and places the tub carefully in your hands.

“-Right on over to me! Maybe even turn some of their- “he jazz hands the air

“-shadow guys on my side, makes them more, receptive to my influence. Got it? Got the memo?”

“Fine, understood, and in turn?”

“Your brother's magical abilities get a little weaker, transfer over to you, and badabing! Who’s the prodigy child now? Sure, isn’t going to be him if you do things right.”

“So, we got ourselves a deal, or am I just wasting my time?”

“No, no I agree to you, Just a little spot, right?” You tighten your grip on the tube and look at its contents.

“Little Itsy-bitsy spot. Say you’re into painting or something if he asks about it. Gather a few more tubes like it to make it believable. I’ll even make it look the same, just dap a little on whatever he uses to communicate and or uses to conjure his famous illusions and we’ll be set.”

He holds out his hand a small grin on his face, eyebrows raised.

You don’t give yourself any time to hesitate and place your hands in his and with a bright flash and some swirling smoke around your hands he lets go and snaps, his fingers and a pair of shades materialize on his face.

“Great Wonderful. Absolutely brilliant now let’s talk schematics alright? Pop on by his place today or two more or whenever, just soon. I’m only giving you some time because I sense some recent tension between you two. I have a brother of my own. Brother’s more like, hate their nonexistent guts. Anyway- rekindle that bond. Become an apprentice, do the deed.”

“How long do I have?”

“I’m in no rush…but about 6 months seems fair, sooner the better. I don’t mind because, in order for you to get back at him, you need to help me out so it’s a go-go for the both of us, I don’t expect any hesitation…”

He clenches your shoulder a bit tighter “and if you're ever feeling a little unsure, a little oh no what am I doing? Just remember how terrible you two got along when you were tots, all the favoritism, the betrayal, and the turmoil and keep plowing on!” He sings the last part and raises his hand into the air dramatically.

“But know even if you get cold feet.” His voice turns icy and he spins you so that your face to face, he leans in slowly and you feel the air around you grow stale and hot

“You still made a deal…capishe?”

“Yes. I understand…”

His face changes to an ecstatic smile. 

“PERFECT! So! Run along, go do your thing…and if you need to contact me.” He manifests and flips a coin with his thumb, and It hovers in mid-air in front of your eyes. It turns slowly in its dull gold color with the picture of a wreath on one side and some fruit on the other. “Flip it, spin It, hold it, kiss it, bop it. Spin it. Tap it.” You look at him with a puzzled look.

“Ah whatever you want to do with it, your intention will seep into it and ring out to me, just hold it in your hand”

You take the coin into your hand and feel its hefty weight in your palm.

“Now, this was fun. But I got to go, the whole underworld to rule, dog to feed. Imps to burn you get my drift.” He lets you go and gives you a wink.

“Chow babe.” With a poof of smoke and flames, he was gone. Simple as that…

Now, it was time to figure out how to rekindle your relationship, after such a, nasty departing.

[imdespondent-sans]

(( 😇 - I will write something morally challenging. consider... a situation in which he has to choose between his brothers :) ))

The thing before him, he didn’t know what to call. It disguised itself, somehow, he couldn’t explain it. Grim Reaper, Fate, the very human that’s caused the damn resets, or perhaps Time itself. It stood before him, cloaked in mystery, either hiding itself or he was unwilling to see it for what it was. 

     Perhaps it was none of these things, and he was giving it too much credit. 

     Still, something about it held him in place, it held his attention. Though he could detect no face, he could tell it was smiling. It held out a thin hand, as if in invitation.

     Choose... The voice was raspy, though he didn’t really hear it. It came as if from his head. He knew it was talking. 

     “choose what..” He humored it, even though he didn’t want to know the answers. He was shaking, and he couldn’t explain why.

     The thing, the entity, held out another hand, this one bigger. He couldn’t really see them, he just knew they were. The hands spread to either side, still inviting him to pick. They might as well have held items being offered, but he knew the hands were empty. 

     But in this new hand, he did see something. Or more like... an apparition. A vision. He saw something familiar, and pulled at a deep longing that had been buried. Tears struck at his eyes, and he stepped forward, reaching out his hand...

     But the entity closed its hand to him, pulling it back. Sharky stopped and looked at it with puzzlement. It was smiling at him again, and wiggling a finger like a parent gently scolding a child.

     Nuh-uh-uh~

     It unraveled its other hand once more, and Sharky saw something else. 

     It was Felly, the one he had hated and grown to love. He saw the span of time as if it was happening again, yet in reality, it passed within a blink of an eye. He saw Jellie, another he held misgivings toward. He tried so hard to push away, yet somehow, somehow, the little gremlin wormed his way into his heart. 

     That feeling of dread grew, like a stone. He felt it sinking as Sharky stared up at the entity once more, wary and suspicious. He was composed now.

     It seemed pleased by this. It can tell Sharky was catching on, and once again, it held out both its hands. 

     Choose.

     Pick your old life, keep the mistakes you’ve made. Live in misery and uncertainty, and know you all may die. 

     Or... It held up the first hand just a bit higher. Take back what you are owed. Start again, with the promise of joy. Choose an ending to the tale, where you are together with your brother. Your family will be happy, and safe.

     “...and what of the others?” Sharky challenged.

     The entity’s smile, now seeming to appear, grew wider.

     No need to fret over them. It’s voice reassured. They will not remember you. Nor you, them. It is a reset. Perfect and pure. They’ll go back to where they belong, and so will you.

     The dread seeped upward and into his bones. He felt it like a chill on his back. He recalled where Jellie and Felly came from, what they would have to go through. How they’ve made it this far by not being alone. 

     As if sensing this, his thoughts were pushed by memories. The vision in the first hand broadened and glowed. Temptingly. It beckoned him, almost begging to choose. The brother he had failed. The brother he had lost. 

     Your true brother.

     Sharky hadn’t realized how much closer he had stepped. He didn’t realize his hand was stretching until it was almost hovering just above it. His soul was heavy with guilt. It was heavy with regret. He had never been there like he should have, and it pushed him away.

     He could fix it.

     And he wanted to. Oh how he wanted to. Long ago, at one point in his life, he probably would have, too. 

     But his hand lowered, and he pushed that hand away.

     “nice try...” He smirked, empty and pained. “but i’ve lost that chance long ago.”

     The entity seemed to pause at this, and the smile was no more.

      But the opportunity is right here, within reach. It tempted him further. Why turn it aside? You could have everything you want.

     For awhile, Sharky was silent. As if debating himself.

      “...if there’s one thing i learned... resets... are cheats. even as many repeats you can get... it doesn’t always erase what you did.”

     “no...” he shook his head again, and stepped away. “if i can choose... i choose nothing. i choose the life i have now. with the family i have. a family you’re a little short on.” 

     His smirk will broaden, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. There were more people involved than just Felly and Jellie. More people who’d be affected. 

     “this isn’t about me. it never was.” 

     He turned away then, on his heel, without another look at either hand. This wasn’t a game he was going to play. 

     He was tired of doing that. 

[sosa-sketch]

Fright or Flight: Chapter 4

Parings: Prinxiety // Logicality // Platonic LAMP

Story Summary: Virgil and Patton investigate the New Prince Castle, when a brutal accident kills Patton. Patton wakes as a ghost and meets friendly ghoul Roman, who has been haunting the castle for 20 years. Virgil is determined to bring Patton back to life and brings Logan, the ghost expert, to help him out. Time is quickly running out, and the four must work together to undo death. If only it was as simple as Logan made it sound.

Unknown to them, a secret entity in the castle does not plan on letting them succeed.

First Chapter    Previous Chapter

To Patton’s surprise, he loved the woods! The chirping sounds of birds and the scurrying of fluffy critters excited him as he matched his pace to the bubbly gurgling of the creek hidden beyond the trees. It was calming and serene. Pacifying enough to get his mind off their final destination.

Virgil, on the other hand, disagreed with Patton’s five star forest Yelp review.

“Are we there yet?” Virgil groaned, dragging his feet behind Patton.

“If we’re quick, another half hour kiddo!” Patton chirped.

Virgil sighed dramatically, yanking his hands from his purple-patched hoodie. “We’ve been walking forever, I’ve learn the true definition of drowning in sweat, and I think every car that passes us is a ephebophilic murderer.”

“E-phe-bo-philic.” Patton perplexedly sounded out.

“A pervert who would be all too happy to find two lonesome teenagers walking alone a forested road.” Virgil explained while plunging his hands back into their homey pocket abyss. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Patton frowned emphatically and slowed his pace until him and Virgil were hiking side-by-side. “You’ve just had too much time to get into that silly ole’ head of yours. We’re just fine!” Patton reassured, grinning as an idea crossed his head.

“I know! Why don’t we play a game?”

Virgil raised a suspicious eyebrow at his direction. “What kind of game?”

“I spy! Why don’t you go first?” Patton invited.

Virgil crossed his arms in resistance. Patton pulled his favorite card and shot his puppy-eyes in return. No one was too old for a bit of distracting fun! And definitely never to broody-no matter how much black his son determined on coloring himself with.

Virgil blew a raspberry into the air and shrugged, which Patton greedily took as an enthusiastic win. “I spy with my little eyes…something black.”

“Right on brand, but at least you’re trying.” Patton quippedd. “Is it the road?”

“Nope.”

“Your hoodie?” Patton tried again.

“Nuh-uh.”

Patton craned his neck to the sky. “The birds?”

“Wrong again, pops.”

“Well what is it?” Patton eagerly gave in.

Virgil stared at him with a deadpanned expression. “It’s what we’ll see when a murderer stabs us in the back and we lose consciousness because we were so enraptured with a preschool game.

Patton ogled at Virgil, dumbfounded and disturbed. “I…appreciate your imagination. But you see, Virge, the game ‘I Spy’ is usually about others trying to figure out what you see. You know, physically? So maybe give it another go.”

Virgil lazily eyed Patton before scanning his surroundings in relent. “I spy something red.”

“It better not be blood this time.” Patton warned. “Is it my sock?”

Patton pointed at his long mismatched socks, one red, one yellow. Virgil shook his head.

Patton scanned his surroundings, thinking hard. Two pinpricks of light hidden in bushes caught his attention. “Is it those eyes in the trees?”

Virgil naturally shook his head before halting and snapping his head to the bundle of trees. “Eyes?”

“Yeah!” Pat confirmed. “I think it was a deer.”

Virgil squinted his eyes, following the direction Patton was enhtuastically pointing at. Swiftly, he took quiet steps to the cluster of evergreen.

“Virgil, don’t go in there. You might spook it away!” Patton warned.

“Deer eyes glow yellow. Not red.” Virgil apprised faintly. He stepped off the broken road and shuffled through the trees, scanning the area. The entrance to the wood was spread out and bright-if there were any animals there, he would have spotted them.

Despite the beaming sun and thick hoodie, Patton’s hand iced his skin when he briefly touched Virgil’s shoulder. “Maybe I was seeing things. Let’s just get to the castle.”

However, when Virgil met Patton’s sky blue eyes, shrunken and unsure, he took another step deeper into the wooded area. Patton had seen something, and it wasn’t an animal.

“Who’s there?” Virgil called into the trees, omitting the tremble from his words.  He kept one hand on his backpack as security, despite there being nothing inside that would offer protection. With the other, he motioned Patton to wait at the edge of the road, facing the sparsely spread trees. “Stay where you are. I’m going to look around. If you can’t see me, call me and I’ll come back.”

Patton looked as if he wanted to argue, but then settled down and nodded. treading back until he returned on the aggregate. “Be careful, Kiddo.”

Feeling steadier knowing Patton was simultaneously safe and watching his back, Virgil hastened his pace deeper through the trees. were clustered enough for Virgil to have to watch his stepping, but spread out enough for Patton to spot glimpses of him through windows of wood. However, the deeper he stepped, the closer and thicker the trees became. Sunlight slowly became subdued from the overhead spanning of branches and leaves.

Surveying the area around him, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The dirt mushed around his Converse, adding filth to his worn-down shoes. The dark leaves idly dangled from their branches, softly swaying in the breeze like wind chimes. Chirping fell from the sky in undertones as red birds flew overhead. The red birds Patton was meant to spot.

Watchfully turning around in a circle, Virgil widened his eyes in investigation. Nothing caught his attention. Patton wasn’t the type to pull pranks, but he was the type of get carried away in his imagination. About to call it quits, Virgil began to take a step back.

Without warning, two spots of red blinked in the brushes, a bright contrast from the cool tones of the forest. It was far off from where Virgil stood and it only shone for a second, but Virgil had it.

He sped off to a chase where the red light flashed, hopping over fallen logs with twisted branches that prodded his legs as he fell. It was getting darker now-the trees crowded and loftier-blocking the pastel sky. Faintly, he heard Patton calling after him in the distance.

Virgil rationally understood he could be rushing after the trick of the light or a prankster. Be that as it may, Virgil’s heart was pumping with exhilaration. What were the odds that in the forest near a possibly haunted castle, both Patton and Virgil spotted gleaming red orbs?

“Is anywhere here?” Virgil called into the woods, slowing to a stop. He hastily fished out his phone, pressing record. A small line of light pierced the wood as Virgil scanned his camera in front of him.

A sharp crack erupted from his left, abrupt and quick. Virgil swiveled to the left and held out his phone. A stick laid in the dirt, snapped in half. The black hairs on his pale arm stood up straight, each an individual sensor for any sudden sound or movement.

“If that was you, can you give me another sign?” Virgil stood tensely, awaiting another indicator. Upon utter stillness, he suggested, “Make a leaf from the tree in front of me fall if you broke the stick.”

Virgil craned his neck upwards, scanning the leaves of the broad overhead tree. Leisurely, almost tauntingly, a single leaf unlatched itself from its twig and fluttered down gracefully. Virgil followed the movement with his phone’s light. The narrow leaf landed on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil attempted to calm himself down. Not from fear, but from excitement. This was the closest he had gotten to a response affirming a self-aware entity. And the entity was communicating with him personally, manipulating responses to make their answer clear. This was a big deal! This is what Virgil expected ghost hunting to be like!

“My name is Virgil Storme,” he introduced. “What’s your name?”

A soft whisper rasped, coarse and hoary. As if the voice had not been used in a long time, and it was testing out its tongue once more. Pausing deeply after each syllable, the voice croaked, “Roman. Prince.”

Roman Prince? The Roman Prince? One of the tragic victims from the New Prince Castle’s brutal murder?

Okay. Relax. As long as he didn’t screw things up, this could happen.

“Hello, Roman. Are you from-” Ring! Ring!

Virgil jumped as his phone violently buzzed. Patton’s contact flashed on the phone, loudly beeping. Irritated would be an understatement as Virgil answered loudly, “What, Patton?”

“What do you mean, ‘what, Patton?’” Patton yelled, equally loud and much more aggravated. “I’ve called you at least five times! I can’t see you at all. You’ve had me worried sick!”

Virgil furrowed his brow in confusion, checking his phone log. His last call had been from Remy this morning. “I have no missed calls from you. The signal must have been jacked up.”

“I don’t care!” Patton cried. “You just went running off into the middle of the forest where I can’t see you. You ignore me when I’m calling after you. You were supposed to stay in my sight.”

Virgil guiltily ran his sweaty palm through his hair. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Pat. But, I think I really got something here.”

Promising to head back, Virgil hung up and sighed at his phone. The video had stopped. At least Roman spoke before Patton called-right in the nick of time as well.

“Roman?” Virgil called. “Are you still here?” Steady silence answered Virgil. The cold weight that was brought upon the entity’s presence had lifted. The manifestation had disappeared.

Still, Virgil had a name. And a connection. Roman Prince from the New Prince Castle.

This investigation might be the one to finally unlock his answers of the paranormal. Finally, Virgil would win.

 The sun was slowly setting, casting warm hues onto the early evening sky. Remy gently hobbled up and down in his seat as they headed down the bumpy road. Soft, classical music drifted from the car’s radio.

“Can you believe it? They walked! Walked! Alone in the woods; like a couple of white guys!”

Logan shot Remy a questioning glance. “They are a couple of white guys.”

“Yeah, but I’ve practically raised Virgil-bringing him coffee and letting him inside my house at four in the morning. He should have some Hispanic blood running through his veins. Where are his street smarts?”

Logan sighed, keeping his eyes on the road. Remy and Logan’s father were relatively close. Remy knew Logan since he was a kid. When Logan’s father received a call from Remy asking for a ride, he had sent Logan to pick him up and drop him off at his shop.

Remy has been huffing about today’s former events since Logan had arrived to pick him up. In the back of Logan’s vehicle, Remy’s sad excuse of a car was being towed.  “If you are so wound up about them walking to the castle, why did you grace them with your consent to proceed?”

Remy crossed his arms, pouting. “Gurl, don’t you think I tried to stop them? But, at the end of the day, I’m just Virgil’s fun, sexy roommate. I’m not the boss of him. And when Virgil sets his mind to something, he does it.” Remy pulled his hazel locks. “It’s so irritating!”

When a silence settled over the pair, Remy could feel Logan’s calculating eyes fall upon him, studying his body movement, his words. Remy shifted uncomfortably, but kept his back facing Logan as he stared out the window. Remy felt like a textbook under his gaze.

Finally, Logan seemed to reach his conclusion. Clicking his tongue, he determined, “You’re upset.”

Remy harshly glared at Logan, feathers riled up and fuming. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“However,” Logan enunciated, “I do not believe it’s because Virgil and Patton took a walk in order to arrive to their destination.”

“Oh wise one, please enlighten me on how you reached that conclusion.” Remy sarcastically pleaded.

“Because you and I know that Virgil can take care of himself-you have seen it countless of times. Additionally, the circumstances in which the are embarking on their travels is more than suitable. They left well during the earlier hours of daylight, they have all the supplies they would need for survival, and if there was any danger, they would easily be able to call you.” Logan explained, ticking down each factor on the list with a soft hit on the driving wheel.

“You wouldn’t get it.” Remy mumbled. “You don’t feel things like other people.”

“Just because I am more logical than most does not mean I don’t feel.” Logan defended, voice slightly rising. “I just believe you are upset and need to see things from a different perspective-hence, my explanation.”

“Yeah, okay.” Remy conceded, shooting Logan an apologetic smile. “You’re right. Thanks for trying, nerd.”

Logan seemed perplexed as whether Remy was genuinely expressing his gratitude or if he was as the butt of another insult. It was a bit of both.

“Not to, as the saying goes, ‘stick my nose where it doesn’t belong,’ but you had mentioned having history with the New Prince Castle. Does that, perhaps, have something to do with you exaggerated concern?”

“Sayings exist for a reason, Lo. I didn’t have a good experience with that castle when I was younger. I just want the kid and his friend to stay safe.”

Logan took the hint and let the conversation die. Remy suddenly felt awfully tired, and he wasn’t up to make small talk, and he definitely wasn’t up for nerd talk, so instead he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window.

“Thanks for the ride, hun.” Remy mumbled.

“You are very welcome, Remy. Do not hesitate to give me a call if you’re in need.”

Remy pictured the New Prince Castle in his head from his childhood. Colorful and full of life. Everyone gave it their all to make the castle come to life. He wondered what the castle looked like now, aged and abandoned. Covered in dust and mold with only remnants of what it once been.

No matter how it looked now, it could not be uglier than what is used to be.

  Taglist: @suspicious-sweaters @septicstarlight

[selina-kyle89]

Yes Professor? Part 1 (Professor!Steve x Reader smut)

Pairing: Professor!Steve Rogers x Reader au

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, spanking, dom!Steve, sub!reader. It’s just smutty guys. 

A/N: This is part 1 of a 3 part little thing in collaboration with my bae @buckysoldierstories. If i forgot to tag anyone sorry! I’m on mobile on the way to the beach and I’ll fix it later on! Enjoy 😉 Reposted because stupid Tumblr flagged it :(

Read Part 2 here!

You rushed through the courtyard of your college campus. It was the first day of the summer semester and like an idiot you had decided to take a few extra classes to get closer to graduating. And so far you weren’t off to a promising start, seeing as how you were 20 minutes late to your Art History class.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” You muttered as you raced through the hall, skidding to a stop in front of room 212. You took a few breaths to steady yourself before quietly opening the door. You breathed out a sigh of relief, happy to have slipped in relatively unnoticed before the door slammed shut loudly behind you causing the entire class to turn in your direction. You shut your eyes in embarrassment as the professor ceases his lecture.

“Sorry.” You squeak out, slipping into the first empty seat you could find, thanking every entity it wasn’t in the front row.

You began unloading your bag, trying but failing miserably at not staring at the insanely hot professor. On the board behind him it stated ‘Professor Steve Rogers’ in big bold letters. You were supposed to be catching up on the lesson but your eyes wandered over Steve’s body. He was tall and muscular with sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut right through you with every sweep he made in your direction. The scruff covering his strong jaw had you imagining the delicious burn it would leave behind on your thighs. You shook your head, needing to get the sinful thoughts out of your head.

“Something you disagree with, Ms. Y/L/N?” Professor Rogers asked you, standing directly in front of you.

“N-no, sir, I was just clearing my head. Please, go on.” You stuttered, looking down at your paper, cheeks flaming.

Professor Rogers smirked before continuing his lecture.

You both looked forward to and equally dreaded Professor Rogers class. On one hand, it was a very interesting class and he didn’t give unnecessary work so it was also fairly easy. On the other, you could barely stand being in such close proximity to a man that good looking without jumping over the desk and letting him fuck you seven ways to Sunday. You were also fairly convinced that he knew how you felt. The way he would walk by your seat, fingers lingering across your open book, or the way he would lick his lips when you would answer a question or the way his eyes seemed to find you first when you got to class and follow your every move until class began. It was becoming unbearable, the tension and longing getting to you. Even if you had cum screaming his name on your own fingers the night before, seeing him in class the next day with his button up stretched tight across his broad chest always made you feel depraved.

One Friday afternoon, you were feeling particularly riled up, Professor Rogers was wearing (if possible) his tightest shirt to date and dress pants that hugged his perfectly toned thighs and ass. Your distraction must have shown because you were called upon to answer nearly every question.

“Ok, so over the weekend, try to get through chapter 12. I’ll post the assignment on the portal so make sure you check it!” Professor Rogers called out to the retreating students.

“Miss Y/L/N, can you please stay behind for one minute?”

You groaned inwardly. You really didn’t want to spend another second in his stupid attractive presence. Turning to face him, you made your face as expressionless as possible.

“Yes, Professor?” You asked, ready to get this conversation over.

His eyes darkened before he cleared his throat. “I would like to discuss your essay you submitted last week. If you could step into my office, it will just take a moment.”

His deep voice sent shivers throughout your body and you nodded, silently following him into the dimly lit room. You heard the door close behind you and the lock click into place, making your heart start to race in your chest. Professor Rogers circled around you to his desk and gestured to the empty chair in front of it. You sat down on the edge of the worn leather chair, hoping and praying he quickly tells you what he needs to. He shuffles some papers around on his desk, placing his glasses on. When he peered up at you over the thick, black frames, wetness flooded your panties.

“I just wanted to give you the opportunity to rewrite the ending, it seemed disconnected from the rest of the piece. If you think the weekend is enough time, have it back to me by the end of class on Monday.”

You took the paper from his outstretched hand, fingers brushing his slightly. “Of course Professor Rogers, I’m sorry, I knew it wasn’t my best but it will be.”

You attempted to take the paper back from him but Professor Rogers had a firm grip. You shot him a quizzical look and pulled a little harder only causing him to give you a smug grin. You huffed exasperatedly, “What do you want, Rogers? It’s been weeks of this cat and mouse game and I’m going to explode. So what gives?”

Before you could think too hard, the professor was out of his chair and standing in front of you with his arms on either side of the arms, his large frame dwarfing your smaller one.

“First of all, sweetheart, when you’re in my office, you will call me Professor or sir. Second of all, relations between students and teachers are against university policies. And you make it really hard to abide by those policies.” He whispered the last part in your ear and you shivered.

“So what are you gonna do about it….Professor?” You purred, scratching a finger through his beard.

Steve launched himself at you, his lips crashing into yours in a rough kiss. Your mind was racing as you kissed him back, allowing him to completely take over and lift you out of your chair. You landed with a soft thud on his desk, papers scattering out from under you. Strong hands tore at your clothes, your shirt being over your head. You reached out to unbutton his shirt but he stopped you.

“Nuh uh babygirl, you first. I want to see the rest of that beautiful body.” He hummed, tucking his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and tugging them down taking your panties with them. You hurriedly unhooked your bra and tossed it across the room leaving you bare before the professor. His eyes roamed your body appreciatively, palming the sizable bulge that had formed in his tight slacks.

“Turn over for me baby.” He spoke lowly and you complied immediately, anticipation coursing through your veins.

“Such a perfect ass. Got me so hard already. Are you wet for me baby?”

“So wet sir.” You spread your legs slightly, giving him the perfect view of your glistening slit. Steve groaned lowly and you heard the sounds of a zipper and then his pants falling to the floor. Without warning, a sharp slap was delivered to your ass and you yelped loudly. Three more swift smacks landed on your tender skin before you were yanked up against his hard chest.

“You liked that didn’t you, dirty girl? You’re practically leaking.” He growled in your ear, fingers skipping down your belly and grazing your swollen clit.

You whimpered at the contact, wiggling your hips against his fingers to get more friction. You cried out as a sharp slap landed on your sensitive pussy.

“You answer me when I’m talking to you, do you understand?” Professor Rogers commanded.

“Y-yes sir.” You answered shakily.

He smirked, letting go of your hair. “Good girl. Lay on the desk for me, spread your legs.”

You laid on your stomach across his desk, standing on your tiptoes. Rogers gripped your hips and you felt the head of his cock teasing your dripping hole. He slowly pushed into you, the stretch causing you to hiss. Once he was fully seated inside you, he sat still for a moment, placing open mouthed kisses across your spine. You gave him the signal to continue after a few moments, the pain having subsided into the need to have him filling you over and over.

“Hold on baby girl, I’m not gonna go easy on you.” He said roughly as he pulled out of your heat.

You forgot how to breath when he slammed back into you, the powerful thrust sending you forward.

“Fucking shit sweetheart, your pussy feels so amazing wrapped around me.” Steve gritted out, his pace never faltering as he watched himself disappear into you.

You moaned, hiking your leg up onto the desk, the new angle causing his cock to hit the spot inside you that made your eyes roll back. “Faster sir, please. I’m so close. Oh my god.”

The professor grunted as his grip tightened on your hips, slamming you down onto his cock over and over again. You cried out, your cunt clenching hard around him, teetering on the brink of orgasm.

“Yeah, that’s right baby, feel you gripping me so tight. You gonna cum on your professor’s dick?” He growled in your ear, reaching his thumb down to rub harsh circles on your clit.

You screamed out his name as your came hard around him. He smacked your ass hard as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Fuck you look so fucking hot cumming on my cock. I’m so close baby girl, think you got one more for me?” He asked, rubbing your overstimulated clit harder than before.

“Oh god, oh god. Fuck!” You screamed louder, feeling the familiar pleasure creeping through your veins.

“Come on baby, cum with me, fuck cum now!” Rogers yelled, his cock swelling as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. His release triggered your own, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Steve collapsed beside you, both of you breathing harshly as you came down from your highs. You turned your head towards Steve to find him already staring at you and you smiled. Maybe his class wouldn’t be so bad after all.

After an eventful weekend thanks to Professor Rogers, you arrived to his class bright and early. He winked at you as you took your seat, noticing another name written on the board. Professor Barnes.

When class began, Steve explained that a colleague of his from a neighboring university was coming to offer insight into the subject you were currently studying.

“Professor Barnes is an expert at history, especially World War II. He is a war veteran and even lost a limb during his service. So please give him a warm welcome.”

You groaned, listening to a boring lecture from an old, crotchety war veteran was not at the top of your list. The classroom door opened and a man who fit neither of your judgements stepped in. Professor Barnes was as tall as Steve, with a thick muscular body and shoulder length, dark hair that framed his handsome face. What really drew your attention was the metal appendage where his left arm should be. Your thighs clenched involuntarily as you saw the plates shifting when he reached out to shake Steve’s hand. Heat flooded your face when he leaned over to whisper something in Professor Barnes’ ear causing him to smirk in your direction.

Once class was over, you hurriedly packed up and headed for the door.

“Y/N, a moment please.” Steve’s soft voice floated across the empty classroom.

Steeling yourself to face the two men, you spin around and plastered a smile on your face.

“Yes Professor?” You drawled, watching as his eyes darkened slightly.

“Professor Barnes read your revised essay and was very impressed. He’d like to discuss it further with you this evening.”

Professor Barnes smiled widely. “Yes, Professor Rogers was telling me how...responsive you are to his class and after reading your paper I just knew I had to meet with you.”

You swallowed thickly, agreeing to meet with Professor Barnes later that evening at the library. His fiery gaze burned into you as you said your goodbyes and you just knew it was going to be an interesting night.

Tags: @buckysoldierstories @221bshrlocked @papi-chulo-bucky @papi-chulo-seb @captainrogerss @caplansteverogers @blackcaptainrogers @feelmyroarrrr @4theluvofall @bucky-plums-barnes @captain-rogers-beard @mybarnesmyhero @ballyhoobarnes @theimpossibleg1rl

[annabelleswife]

Would It Be a Total Cliche If I Put on Asleep by the Smiths Right Now? - Seth x MC

Word Count: 2,672 Rating: SFW besides a very brief mention of a past intimate encounter that isn’t described in detail at all whatsoever Warning: mention of attempted sexual assault/sexual harassment Notes: Takes place right after Book 2, Chapter 6. I liked the scene in Chapter 7 okay. But I just couldn’t get the idea of MC going back to her old apartment for comfort out of my head. I haven’t written fic in years, so sorry for the clunky grammar. I’m only on Chapter 8 of Book 2 so please don’t tag with any spoilers, thanks!

It was quiet in his apartment now. Which wasn’t really true. Like, at all. Seth still had Gloria’s old records warbling from down the hall, the incessant slamming of brakes and cursing drivers from outside his window--oh, and how could he forget the helicopters flying overhead? Things weren’t quiet at all, not even in his professional life.

Still, his head craned towards Olivia’s door every single time he walked past it.

This was his place long before that sunshine girl from Iowa moved in. So why did the hallway feel so empty now? Really, it was pathetic. Not that pathetic wasn’t practically his everyday cologne, but honestly Seth needed to get a grip. 

If he wanted to talk to her so bad, he could take his cellphone out of his pocket right now. Text her. Shit, call her even. That is 100% a thing he could be doing. 

It’s not as if she moved to Antarctica. Olivia was still here. Just not here here. 

(Which is where he imagined she’d pipe in with a, “hear hear,” with the dopiest grin on her face. Then he’d mockingly say something like, “sheesh, Iowa, don’t quit your day job,” and she’d tease back, “at least some of us have day jobs.” To which he’d respond by rattling off all of his side-hustle gigs prior to rewriting an actual honest-to-goodness Hollywood script, thank you very much, causing her to laugh so hard she snorted.)

Right. Back to the ‘not-moping’ bit.

Seth finally reached the roof. He somehow didn’t feel strangled by memories up here. Although, uh, he did occasionally get flashes of a particularly steamy sort, though that was neither here nor there. They were keeping it casual. No strings. No labels. No sending of text messages at 3 a.m. asking, “what are we,” in fear of accidentally pushing the other one away.

Toootally not a thing. At all. Nope. Nuh-uh. Definitely not going to break out into an off-key rendition of Hercules’ I Won’t Say I’m in Lo--

“Seth?”

His train of thought crashed in a fiery blaze killing thousands. He jumped a bit at the unexpected voice and found the source to be none other than the woman of the hour herself. 

Olivia Flynn. Her windswept curls were pushed back over one of her bared shoulders, exposed by her off-kilter sweater.

Seth didn’t consider himself much of a magician, but how else was he to explain her sudden appearance here of all places other than to say that he must’ve willed her here with a spell?

(Bah. Coincidence, schmoincidence.)

“Huh, funny. Hadn’t realized there were any cows on this roof to be tipped,” he replied, making a big show of actually looking around the rooftop. They were blissfully alone. “That’d be the only reason you’d come back to a dump like this, right, Iowa?”

Olivia smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes. Immediately, he felt a drop in his stomach like he was on the world’s worst roller-coaster.

Seth gingerly took a step closer to her. “Uh, sorry. That joke wasn’t exactly researched. For all I know, Iowa’s not even cow country. Maybe you all tip pigs out there? Chickens?”

Translation: I can tell you’re not alright, but I don’t want to assume. Please throw me a lifeline here before I drown myself with worry. Also your hair smells really nice.

That last bit might’ve just been a translator’s note, actually.

She shook her head slightly. This made her curls tumble even further over her shoulder. “I--It’s fine.” Though her trembling bottom lip strongly begged to disagree with her statement.

He felt lost. Normally, Olivia was a straight shooter. She was almost too honest at times. So the fact that she was clamming up here made Seth worry that whatever happened must’ve been bad. Really, really bad. And, oh god, he didn’t know how to handle really, really bad. He was, at best, the guy you called on a ‘big oof’ kind of day.

Seth wanted to ask her what he should do. The irony was not lost on him.

“Hey, c’mon. It’s me.” He took another step towards her, close enough to feel her body heat without having to touch. “It’s just me.”

Just as he was about to work on figuring out how to ask if she was really okay, Olivia leaned on him. Well, more like fell on him. Her entire weight seemed to press down on his front like her knees suddenly gave out and this wretched sob landed somewhere in his neck. Instinctively, his arms came out to steady her. Which then morphed quickly into a full-fledged hug as she cried on his shoulder.

It was important for him to stay calm here. Logically, he knew that. But Seth’s heart was an entirely separate entity from his brain. His emotions flitted between all-consuming fear that something awful happened to Olivia that he wasn’t there to prevent and rapidly stoking rage that anything could have happened to Olivia in the first place.

He did his best to keep all that to himself though. Instead, he murmured consolations in her hair. “It’s alright,” and “I’m here,” etc.

Eventually, her sobs died down. His knuckles rubbed what he hoped to be a soothing pattern on her lower spine which seemed to help. Her breathing seemed more even now, at least.

“I’m sorry,” she finally broke the silence with.

“Don’t.” Seth disentangled himself from Olivia enough to tilt her face up to his. It physically pained him to see her red, puffy eyes. “Don’t you dare say that to me, alright? There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“But your shirt--”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Liv.” He’d repeat it a hundred times over if that’s what it took.

She looked down before giving the tiniest nod of acknowledgement.

They stood like that, locked in a half-embrace with his thumbs cradling her cheeks and her arms around his waist, for a moment. He wanted to ask what happened. He didn’t want to make it, whatever it was, anymore real for her.

And then she said, “I went there, you know?” like they were already in the middle of the conversation and Seth understood what had gotten her so upset.

His eyebrows knotted together. “Olivia--”

“I went there. Willingly. I walked right through the front door. I saw the five-course meal and knew it wasn’t a spontaneous offer on his part. I knew he wanted me there all along. I thought it flattering,” she spat-out like the word itself was acid.

Her tumbling explanation only made his dread grow worse and worse by each passing word. “Liv, what are you talking about? Who’s he?”

She laughed, bitterly. “Oh, just the man who owns me and all of Hollywood.”

Seth’s blood ran cold.

Her brittle laugh turned into a sob.

“Liv--”

“I walked right into it, Seth. I sat at his table. Oh god, I--” and she made a sound caught between a cry and a gasp. It was the most awful sound Seth had ever heard in his whole life, and he had just had to listen to her sobs.

“What did he do? Did he--” He inhaled sharply. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. Continued to do so even when Seth repeated his question.

“Olivia--” but she cut him off yet again with, “He just wanted me to sleep with him. Said he’d take care of me. Make sure I had all the best roles, best publicity. Just offered me everything I ever thought I wanted in exchange debasing myself.”

Her words were so matter-of-fact. All the near-hysterical laugh-sobbing of a moment before was gone and Olivia just seemed deflated now. Like a balloon caught in slow-motion the instant it pops.

Seth felt too many things to count. Too many emotions to even begin to name. His hands moved from her cheeks to her back as he pulled her back into him. He wasn’t met with any resistance. Olivia melted into him as he squeezed her tightly.

“I shouldn’t have went. I should’ve insisted we meet at a restaurant. I should’ve read my contract more closely. Seth, how am I supposed to live with myself knowing everything I could’ve done--”

“There isn’t anything you could’ve done,” he interrupted firmly. Seth forced himself to breathe through his nostrils before continuing, forcing his voice to be gentler. “You need to understand that. There isn’t anything you could’ve done because you did nothing wrong. He’s the one who did this, Olivia. He would’ve done this no matter what you did or didn’t do. He’s a...”

Seth wavered here. He knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t want to upset her further.

“A predator,” she finished for him. He had never believed in Gloria’s claimed ESP powers, but in this instant he felt Olivia’s to be real.

“A predator,” he repeated.

Olivia began to pull away from him and he let her go though every fiber of his being was urging him to keep her close. At least here on this rooftop no slimy movie producers could touch them.

Her wide dark eyes were still a bit puffy but they still crinkled at the corners when she smiled at him. Not quite where he wanted her smile to be, but he’d gladly take it.

“You’re right. Seth, that’s why I... I was so scared and felt so alone and I just didn’t know where else to go.”

He put his hand on her forearm to give a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone. You’re never alone.” Seth waited until she nodded to continue. “But why... I mean, why didn’t you knock on my door then if you wanted to see me? I would’ve answered.”

“I know. I wanted to. But then I was standing there, on the verge of crying, and I--I chickened out. I thought if I said it, that somehow would make it worse.” Olivia latched on to his hand and intertwined their fingers. “But I needed this. To--to tell you. To get it all out. I--thank you. Seriously, I--”

He was already shaking his head no before she could finish. “You don’t owe me anything, Iowa. Not a damn thing.”

They stayed holding hands on the rooftop for a long while. Seth wanted to tell her his idea of burning Viktor’s house down. Wanted to call in the cavalry and sick Victoria loose on the bastard. But he could tell that wasn’t what Olivia needed right now. She needed time to process. And he was glad to give it to her. Whatever she needed. Even if he had to smother his own feelings of anger towards the piece of shit for the time being.

Again, as if reading his mind, she said, “I know I’ll have to figure out my next step. And it’ll be scary and complicated and just...” Olivia sighed an exasperated sigh. “I just want to sleep right now.”

“Yeah, of course. But, uh--” he started, but at the exact same moment as he began speaking, she also had as well.

They both laughed awkwardly.

“Sorry, you first,” Seth encouraged.

Her cheeks flushed. “No, uh, I mean, I was just gonna say that my new place is kinda far and, uh...”

“Iowa, what kind of a man do you take me for?”

Olivia’s eyes widened. Oh ho ho, man, was it good to get her. “N--no, um, that’s not--”

“To think I’m not the sort of gentleman prepared for a sleepover at any given moment is just plain insulting. You have wounded me deeply, madam,” Seth sniffled, throwing in a head toss for good measure.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she was smiling. Finally, a genuine one, the first real one of the night. 

Good. He was glad. 

Tomorrow, they’d discuss how to properly rake that disgusting cat turd over the coals. 

Tonight, he was glad to make her forget it.

“My apologies, my good fellow. I hadn’t meant to imply that whatsoever. Shall I write you an apology note?” Olivia joked along, breaking their hand hold to link her arm around his.

“In your own blood as opposed to ink should suffice.”

“Perhaps attached to my left ear so you know I’m truly, truly sorry.”

“Now you’re talking,” he teased before leading them back downstairs to his apartment. “Since you’ve made such a good show of apologizing, I shall give you the bed and all the extra marshmallows in your hot cocoa.”

Olivia stopped walking. Which, since they were linked at their arms, meant he stopped walking too. Seth craned his head down to her, confused. Had he already stuck his foot in his mouth? They hadn’t even made it over the threshold yet.

“You don’t have to give me the bed.”

Seth started to argue that point, but she beat him to the punch. Or rather gave him a punch. Metaphorically. Though it might as well have been physically since it would’ve shocked him almost as much.

“I want you to sleep with me.”

He blinked in response.

Olivia animatedly began explaining herself. “In the same bed, I meant. Together. In your bed. Me and you in the same bed at the same time. Fully clothed! I didn’t mean to--”

A door opened nearby and out popped Gloria’s head with her hair all up in curlers.

“Oh dear, it’s just as I thought. The spirits warned me you’d be back and now here you are, rousing me from slumber at 2:30 A.M.”

Seth sheepishly smiled at his neighbor while Olivia asked her, “Wait, how did you know that I’d be here?”

“It’s just as I said, dear. The spirits. That, and the thin walls,” Gloria nodded sagely.

He stifled a laugh.

“Sorry, Gloria. We’ll get out of your hair now.” He figured if he hadn’t stepped in now, that Olivia would just be content to stand here in the hallway shooting a puzzled look at Gloria all evening long.

Gloria moved back into her apartment, mumbling something about ‘being able to cut it with a knife,’ whatever that meant. And Seth guided Olivia to his apartment as quietly as possible so as not to wake anybody else up.

Once inside, he fumbled for the light switch. He quickly realized that Olivia had never actually seen his place before and would’ve probably been embarrassed by the clutter if this had been different circumstances. Okay, maybe he was still a bit embarrassed by it even under these circumstances. If he rushed her past the unwashed dishes in the sink, who would really blame him, huh?

“I just don’t think I can fall asleep alone tonight,” Olivia sighed.

It stopped him in his tracks.

“I know I’m already being an imposition--yes, I am, please don’t argue, I’m too tired to argue--and I know it’s a silly request, but please can you just sleep with me so I don’t have to sleep alone?”

Seth nodded, adding, “It’s not silly. C’mere,” as he hugged her again. The hug turned into a sort of half-drag as he helped her into his bed. She seemed like she was already half-asleep. Olivia slipped off her shoes and so did he. That was about as much as they had energy for before she curled up in a ball at his side, head buried in his chest. Then it hit him like a freight train just how drained he was. His eyes were already fluttering closed almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Her warmth beside him didn’t help.

“Seth?” she asked, her voice sounding so small like he imagined a fairy’s would sound like. Well, if that fairy was also on the verge of passing out.

“Hm?”

“You called me Liv tonight.”

Oh, shit. He had. Like multiple times. He’d never called her that before. Oh, fuck, was that weird? That was probably weird. That’s what she was gonna say was how weird that was. Oh, shi--

“‘s cute. You’re cute.”

It was quiet in his apartment now.

[celestialmarkiplier]

Coming Out to Pay (Anti x Reader)

Requested? Yes! Anon requests: hi I really love your work, could I request sean/anti x reader where reader keeps teasing sean and he eventually gets fed up and anti takes over?? nsfw if you can, but you don't have to. thank you ily!!

Fandom: jacksepticeye

Pairing: Sean x Anti x Reader (I will most likely be calling him Jack, though, not Sean. sorry it's just a habit!!)

Warnings: NSFW!!!! (at some point in this one shot i stole a line from supernatural oops im not sorry)

“Whats up, green bean?” you ask as you make your way into the bedroom where you see Jack typing away on his laptop.

He makes a small noise at the nickname and doesn’t look up from his laptop as he responds. “I'm talking to Mark, Bob, and Wade about filming some more prop hunt,” he mumbles. You nod and lay beside him, watching him converse with his friends for a few seconds before getting bored.

“Jack… baby, I’m bored.” You whine and push lightly at his shoulder to get his attention. He shrugs you off and goes back to typing, muttering a small ‘one second’ before all you hear is the clicking of the keys as he presses down on them. You wait a few more seconds before groaning and taking his laptop. He seems surprised at first, but after seeing you shut the laptop and put it on the table on your side of the bed he pouted.

“Give it back,” he says as he makes a move to reach for it. You smack his hand away and shake your head.

“Nope, not until you agree to do something with me. Come on, honey. They can wait like ten minutes.” You try to persuade him but he shakes his head.

“Not right now, Y/N, just wait for me to finish setting up a time and stuff then we can go do something, alright?” Jack says with a raised eyebrow. Honestly, you would have let him go, but when he is doing stuff like this it usually takes a while. Usually, you would have already left, but today you just felt extra… well, extra.

“But green bean…” you whined once more, suppressing a smirk when his jaw clenched for a split second. It always aggravated Jack when you called him that, you didn’t know why but you knew you loved his reaction. It was hilarious.

“Y/N, what did I tell you about that?” He gritted out, once again trying to reach for his laptop but failing as you smack his hand away again.

“Tell me about what, green?” You quirked a brow and that was when you saw it.

It was small, to anyone else it would have gone unnoticed; but to you, it was clear as day. There was a small glitch on top of his shoulder and over the right side of his neck. You honestly didn’t know how to explain it, but it happened. You furrowed your brow in confusion then shook your head, maybe it was really just your imagination?

Before you could question it any further Jack was speaking again. “Y/N, I mean it. You don’t want to see me pissed. Just give me back the laptop and we can do something later.” he growled and yeah, okay, you would have given him back the laptop then but honestly, where was the fun in that? If he wasn't going to do something with you, you would have to make your own entertainment.

“Ooh, I’m so scared, babe.” You laugh, not missing the flush running down his face due to (what you assume is) anger. “No offense, but you couldn’t hurt a fly, green bean.”

“That’s it,” Jack growled and this time you know it isn't your eyes playing tricks on you. You see another glitch, this time it's his face glitching between his normal face and a static-filled version of him with a dangerous smile. You gulp, the glitching starts to happen more violently and you take a step back. What the hell is going on??

“Jack?” you mumble after a minute, shakily reaching out for him and putting a hand gently on his shoulder.

His eyes suddenly snap up and he gives you a sickly sweet grin. He suddenly looks different. Like a whole nother person while still being in Jack’s body.

“You know what, little one? I don’t think I like your tone.” He says with that same grin he gave you before as he takes a step towards you. You furrow your brows deeper and look at Jack in confusion, taking a small step back. Little one? Jack has never called you that but holy shit you could get used to it.

You chuckle somewhat nervously and try to dig yourself out of this hole. “Okay Jack, you win this one. Let me get your laptop.” You go to pull away again but he still doesn’t let you go.

“Nuh-uh, try again, doll. You see, Jack is- well, he’s gone. I run the show now.” Jack- well, apparently not Jack lets out a glitchy giggle before stepping towards you again and the realization suddenly hits you as to who you’re dealing with.

“Anti.” You whisper out the statement, feeling fear fully take over your body and glue your feet to the ground. Jack had always warned you about the demonic entity that lives inside him, but you had never came face to face with him. Not until now, at least, and you were completely and utterly terrified.

“Bingo.” He smirks before you are suddenly thrown back onto the bed with such force the bed almost shifts with you. Anti straddles your hips on the bed and must have sensed how petrified you were because he locked his blue and green eyes on you and gave you an almost genuine smile. “Oh, c’mon doll, don’t be nervous. It’s still Jack, just… you know, a better version.” He giggled before continuing, “When he comes back into consciousness he won’t even remember I was here, he won’t know about any of this. So, what do you say?” Anti purrs against your ear, trailing his sharp nails lightly down your sides and running his nose along your jawline. You apparently took too long to answer, because he growls and nips at a spot on your neck causing you to involuntarily gasp, “I need answers, little one.”

You know you shouldn’t be thinking about this; you know your answer should automatically be ‘hell no’. But… something about Anti is clouding your mind, your body is suddenly hypersensitive to his every touch and all you can think is more, more, more. Anti must know about your reaction, because you feel him smirk from where his head rests on your neck and then he’s peppering kisses all over the area, almost wiping all of your doubts away- almost.

“Wait! Fuck, no, I can’t. You aren’t Jack and it would still be cheating.” You whisper but your eyes still flutter closed when his hands move under your shirt to massage the skin on your waist. He might not be Jack, but it’s still Jack’s body, and his hands still make heat pool in your stomach.

Anti either didn’t hear you or didn’t care, because his light kisses turned into harsh sucks and bites and his hands on your waist were now wondering, one going up and massaging your breast while the other traveled down to your pants and rubbed you through them causing you to gasp and involuntarily buck your hips up.

“I’m sorry? What was that? I didn’t hear you, little one, did you say to stop?” the cocky smirk sketched into Anti’s face said it all, he knew you wouldn’t tell him to stop now. You were already too far gone and he had barely begun. You’re only response was a moan, and apparently, that wasn’t the right answer because you immediately felt him pull away from you, all of his influence gone and your head now clear.

“No!” You whined, your head might have been cleared from Anti’s influence, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a needy, desperate mess. You still needed him, you didn’t care about the consequences at the moment. “I-I need you, please.”

Anti shrugged, looking cocky as he said, “Show me how much you need me.”

That’s how you ended up naked, on the bed, on your knees with an equally naked Anti in front of you. You slowly took him into your mouth, not missing the small hissing sound that came passed his lips. The sound only encouraged you to continue, bobbing your head and looking up at the green haired man above you. He was thrusting into your mouth now, holding you still by your hair and continuing until he was close to tipping over the edge then pulling out.

“Good girl,” he hums, undressing you slowly and looking you over with a lopsided grin, “So beautiful. Lay down, I’ll show you how a real man handles sassy girls like yourself.”

You were buzzing in anticipation, watching his every move as he kisses his way down your body.

He looks up at you, digging his nails into the flesh on your hips to keep you from moving as he slowly licked over your entrance.

You gasp and thread your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly and tugging slightly on it. This causes him to growl, spreading your legs further apart and eating you out like a starved man. He had you moaning, throwing your head back and not being able to think straight for a while before you could feel the heat in your stomach becoming too much.

“A-Anti, fuck I’m so close,” you whine and try bucking your hips (but fail because of his death grip on your hips).

He lifts his head to give you a cocky smirk, grinning and showing off his canine-like teeth as he says, “You should know the drill by now darlin’, you gotta beg for it. Show me how much you deserve to cum, doll.”

Right after he says that he goes back to devouring you and you are whining again. “Please, Anti. Fuck, I’ve been such a good girl, I can’t- I need to-” You are cut off by the green haired entity moving up and sucking on your clit which sent you right over the edge. You came with a cry and a harsh tug on his hair, your whole body spasming as you came down from your high.

Anti was still going, you had to force him out from between your legs and when he finally did come out, his chin and mouth were glistening with your slick. You expected him to- well, you weren't sure what you expected, actually. But you didn't expect him to slide a hand up around your throat, holding it with a firm but still comfortable grip as he said “I never gave you permission, doll. Now you’re in for a real treat. Your night is far from over.”

(A/N: I CANT DECIDE IF THIS IS REALLY GOOD OR REALLY SHIT??? i mean, enjoy i guess? tell me what you guys think bc idk -S)

[sanderssidesnovel]

Chapter 3

Sanders Sides—A Novel

By: Yours Truly, SassyShoulderAngel319 (unless @thatsthat24 wants to adopt the rest…? *wink wink*)

Table of Contents — Previous Chapter

Chapter 3—Virgil

I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. I’d never had to babysit Thomas before. I mean, I was just an internal part of Thomas. My function was to protect him. Maybe I was a little heightened compared to a normal person but, hey, everyone experiences anxiety differently.

I sat outside Thomas’ closed bedroom door, cross-legged, on my phone. Patton had come through already to borrow Thomas’ Steven Universe T-shirt. As had Roman in search of the blue shirt with lighter blue and red circles on it.

Logan didn’t change shirts. Instead, he delicately folded his necktie and tucked it into his pocket like it was a sensitive explosive. 

The three of them had already left the apartment in search of their own objectives. Logan to do some research, Roman to find some magic, and Patton to find a dog to pet. Of course.

While they’d been changing shirts and waiting to leave at different times so no one would be too suspicious, I had shed my glorious hoodie and ragged purple shirt, and scrubbed the eyeshadow off from underneath my eyes. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone—though I suspected Patton could tell—but not wearing my oversized jacket or makeup made me feel more than just naked or exposed.

It made me feel vulnerable.

Which terrified me.

I was Anxiety—I was what showed up when Thomas was uncomfortably vulnerable. I put his guard up. I prevented those situations from happening again so Thomas wouldn’t feel that way. That was my job. Sitting on the floor in front of Thomas’ bedroom in just Thomas’ skull T-shirt, my black jeans, and black shoes, I couldn’t help but feel mild panic. I wasn’t supposed to be this. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t part of my “programming.”

After a while, I calmed down.

I just sat on the floor and listened with ears perked. Thomas’ bedroom was silent. I assumed he was still in there because he had been when Roman and Patton stepped over me to go find a wardrobe change so they could walk in the world easier.

Though I heard Thomas get out of bed and move around. The vibrations in the floor got more intense under my legs.

The door opened.

“You okay, Virgil?” Thomas asked.

I flinched away from him, instinctively curling around myself. “I’m fine,” I retorted sharply.

Thomas folded his legs under him and sat by me. “No you’re not. I could hear you doing the Four-Seven-Eight a couple minutes ago,” he replied. “What’s up?”

“Nuh-uh,” I argued. “No questioning me. I’m supposed to be watching over you.”

“Virge, you’ve watched over me for… basically my entire life. Give me a couple minutes to make sure you’re okay right now. You’ve never been a physical form before. Your function is probably overloading a bit. Am I right?”

I desperately wanted to tell him “No.” To be defensive and forcefully fine. But I knew that if I opened my mouth, that deep, gravelly voice that echoed around me when I got too intense would probably make an appearance. I clenched my jaw and pressed my fist against my mouth for a second, reining in my functions and calming down.

Finally I sighed. “A bit,” I admitted, the barest traces of that dark, low voice edging my own.

Thomas patted my knee. “I figured. I could feel it too,” he commented casually.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Don’t be. It’s reassuring that I can still access you guys even though we’re all separate entities right now,” he replied. “But you never answered my question. What’s up?”

Thomas knew that I hesitated before replying. I could tell because he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t… I don’t like looking like this,” I mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“In order to look normal, we all had to change. I’m not me when I look like you.”

“You always look like me,” Thomas pointed out.

I put my forehead in my hand for a moment. “I know that,” I snapped with tension in my jaw and a growl building in my throat. “What I mean is, that like this, I look exactly like you on a normal day. And it scares me. It makes me feel… vulnerable. Exposed. Naked. Nothing about me looking like regular you puts people’s guard up around me—makes them act with caution or feel on-edge. Looking like plain-old you takes away my function—my purpose. I don’t like it.”

Thomas closed his eyes thoughtfully and leaned his head against the doorframe. He folded his arms and chewed the inside of his cheek.

I wanted him to say something. I wanted him to go away. I wanted—

I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted. Apart from an end to this conversation. I was never one for baring my soul to anyone—not even Thomas, who I was a part of.

I smoothed the sequins of the skull T-shirt down so they were white and black instead of colorful. That felt better.

Thomas’ eyebrows lowered. He caught my wrist and pulled it closer to him.

“What’re these?” he asked, comparing my bare arm to his. “I never had these scars.”

I snatched my arm away, got to my feet, and ran back downstairs. I knew it was a bad idea to wear a short-sleeved T-shirt.

By the time Thomas caught up with me, I was pulling my patchwork hoodie back on to cover as much of my skin as possible. Thomas jumped the last two stairs and landed so close to me I felt his impact hit the carpet in my feet. “Virgil,” he began seriously. I refused to meet his eyes. “Tell me. It’s okay. What are the scars from?”

“What do you think?!” I spat back, still looking over his shoulder at the art hanging on the wall.

Thomas recoiled and stayed silent for a couple moments. “Are those… my fears?” he asked gently.

I scoffed, snorting sarcastically. “No,” I countered.

“Then what are they?”

Finally I got up the courage to meet his eyes. My eyes. Our eyes. Whatever. It was weird. We had the same face and I was just part of him—except now I wasn’t.

Anyway. We looked at each other.

“Every single one of these is a remnant of your pain. Not your physical pain. No. Those fall on you. I, on the other hand, was part of your internal processes. All of this is your emotional pain. Every heartache. Every heartbreak. Every mean text or raised voice that made you scared. Every. Single. One,” I informed him darkly, shucking off the hoodie and stripping off the skull T-shirt to reveal more of my skin.

Thomas reached up as though to touch the nastiest, gnarliest scar etched angrily over my chest, but I backed away and turned my torso.

“I…” Thomas tried, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry.”

I gave him an incredulous look. “For what? Being human?” I snapped. “Everyone goes through emotional pain and bears the internal scars from it. It’s part of being human. Up until recently, I was literally a figment of your imagination that you performed for an internet audience. I didn’t actually exist. You bore these scars yourself—just inside, where no one could see them. And when me and the others were disgorged from your being, they had to go somewhere.” I wondered if I should tell him… no. That wasn’t mine to tell.

Instead I just bent down and yanked the T-shirt back on, quickly adding my hoodie over it to cover everything up. If I wasn’t leaving the apartment for a while, it wouldn’t matter if I had the conspicuous hoodie on.

“I… I guess,” Thomas remarked, “I just… didn’t really know what else to say.”

I shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

“Yes it is. It’s—”

Whatever it was, I never got the chance to hear, because at that moment, the front door flew open to Thomas in a red shirt with a yellow star on it and glasses.

No wait. Not Thomas.

Patton.

“I’m feeling negative emotions coming from you,” he said, looking at Thomas. “Thought I should come back here and make sure my sons are okay.”

“Not your son,” Thomas grumbled.

“What’s going on, kiddos?” Patton continued. He scrunched his eyebrows when he saw me.

I pushed up the sleeves of my hoodie to reveal some of the scars. “He found out,” I told him, tilting my forehead in Thomas’ direction.

Patton nodded slowly. “I see. Didn’t think the emotional heart-to-heart would be so soon…” he mused before perking up. “But that’s okay! We’re all mature adults here and we can have a serious conversation about serious things.” He sounded so confident that Thomas and I shared an guilty glance. Our conversation had been hardly civil, mature, or serious.

“Riiiiight…” I mumbled.

“Let’s have a seat. We have some stuff to talk about,” Patton commented, closing the front door behind him, locking it, and guiding us both into the living room like we were delinquent children who he was cross but mostly exasperated with. He sat me and Thomas down first before sitting between us. “Okay then. I guess we should talk then.”

Next Chapter

Tag List:  @fandomsandnonsense7 @sanders-sides-enthusiast @ask-steampunk-sides  @psycho99-universe @the-asexual-reaper @heracaine @virgils-jacket @pat-on-verge @lonewolfmemories @michealawithana @virgilient

[leaughrilke]

repeat the sounding joy

superbabies christmas special, pt. 2

find it on: ao3 ff.net

. . .

2020

. . .

“Kara?”  Lena’s hoping that her wife is home or, at least, in range to hear her—she was supposed to be done with Supergirl duty by now, but a little wiggle room is always penciled into the schedule Lena’s memorized, kept logged in the back of her mind.  Except—well.

This particular event is not wiggle room applicable.

Finn is nearing seven months and they are entering their first holiday season with him and Lena will be damned if their holiday card is not perfect.  Kara was the one that talked her into matching sweaters to begin with and now that Finn has managed to both vomit and poop all over his outfit, it’ll be Kara that comes up with a solution.

So long as the photographer Lena’s arranged to come by their apartment isn’t running early.

She’s not sure why she worried; Kara��s never been late without either calling ahead or having Alex do it for her and, so far, Lena’s not gotten a call.

“Alright, little man,” she sighs, fixing the top snap of the clean shirt she’s just dressed him in.  “Maybe Mama won’t notice that you’re a little out of sorts, hm?”

Finn coos back, parrots, “Mama!” and wiggles in Lena’s arms, obviously aiming to get back to his toys on the floor of his room.

There’s a brief rush of wind, a cool draft, and when Lena turns, Kara’s next to her.  And, bless her, holding a clean Finn-sized sweater.  “I figured it would be a good plan to keep extras on hand,” she says, stepping closer to tickle one of their son’s feet, grinning as he shrieks with laughter.

“Always so smart.”  Lena kisses her wife’s cheek, passes Finn off to her seamlessly.  “I need to wash up before Lenore gets here and I believe someone was missing his mama and would appreciate some quality time,” she says cheekily.

“How’s my man?” Kara asks, shifting her son to rest on her hip as Lena slips out of the room.  “How’s my Finster?”

Lena hurries in the bathroom, the doorbell ringing just as she reaches the bottom step of their stairs.  Kara’s just about to answer it when she notices Lena, turning quickly to flash a smile and a thumbs-up at her.  The movement elicits a giggle from Finn—they really lucked out with him, Lena thinks.  He’s always smiling, always happy.  She’d always been nervous thinking about having children, both for fear of a perpetually fussy baby as well as what her name would bring down on them.  But Finn?

Finn is wonderful, even smiles at the photographer when Kara opens the door for her.

“Hello handsome,” Lenore greets him before focusing on Kara and Lena.  “And hello moms!  I love the matched set.”

/

The shoot goes smoothly, with Kara and Lena selecting three shots for the Danvers family holiday card, as well as one for the L-Corp newsletter Lena started a few years earlier as a way to humanize her with her employees.

“Admit it,” Kara says later, after they’ve gotten Finn down for bed and are getting ready themselves.

Lena turns to raise an eyebrow at her wife, carefully pulling the backing off her snowflake earrings and setting them on the dresser.  “Admit what?”

Kara floats over, wraps her arms around Lena’s waist and rests her chin on her shoulder.  “You loooove the matching sweaters,” she teases, pressing a kiss to the skin exposed by the fallen strap of Lena’s nightdress.

“I will admit no such thing,” Lena smirks, turning in her wife’s arms and leaning up for a real kiss.  “We did the matching sweaters this year and never again.”

“Mhm,” Kara hums as she steers them both to bed.  “Whatever you say, babe.”

. . .

2022

. . .

“Finn, honey, please put your markers down.  Auntie Lenore is coming over so soon!  Don’t you want to be nice and clean then?”  Kara leans down to pull the offending items out of Finn’s death grip, whipping around to glare at Lena when she snorts at the exchange.  “Something funny, dear?”

“Nothing at all, sugarplum,” Lena responds, saccharine sweet even as she narrows her eyes in challenge.  It’s not her fault that Kara chose to be on Finn watch this year; Lena would have been more than happy to switch with her, barring feeding Maia who had apparently developed a distaste for bottles recently, but Kara had insisted.

The funny part, Lena thinks, is that same trademark stubbornness reflected in Finn is what’s starting to get on Kara’s nerves.

But Finn is sweet at his core, even if his terrible twos mask that sometimes.  He lets his mother wrestle the pens away with minimal fuss, even if he does look over imploringly at Lena, knowing that she’s the ultimate pushover when it comes to his baby blues.

“Nuh uh, kiddo,” she says firmly.  “Mama said coloring time is over.”

“Draw,” he whines, jutting out his bottom lip in a horrifically accurate recreation of Kara’s puppy dog pout.

“C’mon honey,” Kara huffs, picking up their son.  “You know that’s not fair—Mommy can’t resist that look.”  She pokes his cheek lightly, earns herself a damp raspberry from Finn in return.  “Where’s that smile, hm?"

Finn does start to smile a little begrudgingly, always an easy win even now.  Looking at them, Lena starts to understand that appeal of the matching sweaters—snowmen this year, as opposed to the previous theme of snowflakes; Kara and Finn look like a matched set, Maia looking much the same in Lena’s arms.  All bright and blonde and beautiful, all strong, all powered—sometimes Lena feels a little left out of their club, sometimes feels a little out of place when Maia and Finn fly up out of her reach to play, when only Kara can join them easily.

The sweaters are a tangible reminder that she’s not a separate entity from them, not really.  She may not be exactly the same, but she is part of the family, a part of these giggling, happy children.

Maia coos happily, begins to play with Lena’s fingers and rings.  “Are you excited for the photos, love?” Lena asks her, smiling when Maia turns her big blue eyes on her, a wide toothless grin her answer.

/

The card turns out a little messier than previous years, not quite as picture perfect as their first holiday card with Finn—he was grumpy through the process, so Kara had to tickle him to get a smile.  The movement sent Kara’s glasses slipping down her nose and she tried to catch them by turning her head up.  Lena’s a blur, caught half in motion as she turned to look at what was happening next to her.

Maia, of course, was the only one looking at the camera.

. . .

2025

. . .

Their first card with Stella is a different ballgame—quite frankly, Lena is close to just calling it.  It wouldn’t be a tragedy to miss one year, especially with Stella still so worryingly small, still so colicky and fussy, with them still so sleep deprived.  They had enough photos from the months leading up that could easily sub in for the card.

“It’s going to be fine,” Kara assures Lena when she voices her same argument for what has to be the fourth time today.  “Finn and Maia are pros at this and Stella took a nice, long nap, so she’s should be good.”

“I just—,” Lena starts, pulling her hair out of its bun.  “It just feels wrong to be focusing on this so much, considering how difficult this year has been for us.  Is that ridiculous?”

“Of course not,” Kara says soothingly.  “But this is our normal, right?  We should try and stick to our normal as much as possible, that’s what Dr. Neuhaus said.  Babies can sense when people are stressed and we have been so stressed.  Besides,” she grins, pulling an earlier abandoned bag out of their closet.  “I had these customized.”

The sweaters for this year are reindeers, a family of five; Lena saw them when they arrived and burst into tears.  The transition from four to five was much more difficult than they’d ever anticipated and part of her was still worried that the final paperwork for the adoption, stuck somewhere in the grinding gears of bureaucracy, would be denied even when their case worker had all but assured it.

Maybe that had more to do with her hesitance for this card than anything else.  She’s not sure she’d ever recover if they lost Stella now.  She is sure, however, that she’d be a wreck every time she saw the card if they did lose her.

“You’re overthinking,” Kara says at the same moment Stella starts wailing.

Lena still swivels to where, until a few weeks ago, Stella’s bassinet sat, tucked in a warmly lit corner of their bedroom.  They’d just moved her into what had used to be their home office, recently renovated for their unexpected addition and it still feels wrong to have to cross the hall to comfort their crying daughter.  Still feels too far.

“I’ll get her,” Lena tells Kara once she’s reoriented herself, heading to the hall.

Some of this extra fear, Lena’s sure, is because she never had to worry with Finn and Maia.  Finn never ran a temperature, virtually never fussed or cried, slept soundly from the very beginning—all credit to Kara’s genetics.  Maia’s powers manifested so early, Lena hardly had a chance to worry about her, at least not in the way she worries for Stella.

Little Stella, still so small and sickly.  She catches colds and stomach bugs with ease, runs fevers like she’s been training for them.  Lena and Kara hardly slept the first few months with her.

And now, as Lena steps into the low-lit room, Stella’s wails ratchet up an octave.  That’s normal, at least—she always gets worse before getting better.  Her crying sustains even when Lena picks her up, only beginning to quiet when Lena holds her close.  They’ll have to figure out a better pose than they were planning; it would have been Finn holding Stella, Maia on a step behind them, and her and Kara at the back, but that won’t work if Stella’s fussing.  She likes being close to her or Kara.  Small adjustments, Lena figures.  All worth it.

Stella calms quickly enough, allows Lena to change her and dress her in the family sweater.

By the time Lenore arrives, they’ve all sort of gotten their collective act together.  Kara holds Stella on her hip, Lena seated on the floor with Finn on one side, Maia on the other.  When they’re reviewing the shots after, Lena spots a The Shot, a candid snapped when no one was paying attention.  Finn’s telling her something, his arms a blur as he gestures animatedly; she and Maia have twin looks of concentration as they listen to him, though Lena’s smirking.  Kara is resting her forehead against Stella’s, both of them smiling.

/

When the call comes in from their case worker that their final paperwork has been approved, she makes sure to send everyone involved a copy of the newly expanded and legalized Danvers Family Holiday Card.

. . .

2054

. . .

“Moms?” Finn calls, holding the door open for the rest of his family.  “We’re here!”

“Finn!” Maia hisses curled up next to Beth on the couch.  “Why are you so loud?”

“You’re one to talk, sis,” he shoots back with an eye roll.

Nasrin sweeps in, pushing her husband out of the way with a gasp.  “Oh, is that her?” she asks, ignoring Finn’s surprised laugh.  “Boys,” she scolds when her sons scramble for the couch to see their new cousin.

“She’s awake,” Beth assures her, shifting the bundle in her arms so that the newcomers can see her face.  Beth turns, asks her nephews, “Can you be really gentle?”

Cyrus, already taking tentative steps towards the trio on the couch, nods.  His brother, Jasper, follows him closely and says, “Is she gonna break?”

“Yes,” Maia answers just as Beth says, “Of course not.”  Finn glares at his sister as Beth continues.  “She’s just really small still and you guys are so strong!  You just have to be careful and support her head, if you want to hold her.”

Jasper looks back at his mother, easing herself into one of the armchairs.  “Is the new baby going to be this small?” he asks her, eyes on her ever-growing belly.

“Yes, love,” Nasrin hums, leaning back and resting her hands atop her stomach.  “You should start practicing gentle hands now.”

“Where’s Charlie?” Finn asks Maia as he sets his family’s bags down on the kitchen island.  “I have a question for him.”

“He’s supervising—.”

“Allie and Leo?”

“Mhm.  Snowball fight in the backyard.”

Cyrus bails at that, makes a dash for the back door and ignores his mother calling after him to slow down.  Jasper hesitates a moment, looks to his parents for approval and, after Finn laughs and tells him “Go!”, runs after his brother.

“Stell?” Finn asks finally.

Beth looks up again, smiling slightly at the mention of her wife.  “Laying down,” she answers.  “Lena just went to check on her, actually.”

“I’ll go—.”

Before Finn can finish his thought, Kara rounds the corner into the living room, arms piled high with holiday sweaters (this year’s theme, according to his mom’s email, was penguins).  “I thought that was you guys,” she says, smiling brightly at her son and daughter-in-law.  “Did the kids head outside?”

“Maia said the magic words,” Nasrin answers her.  “Snowball fight.”

Kara laughs, sets down the stack of sweaters on the coffee table.  “Good,” she sighs, stepping back to analyze the pile.  “They can work all their wiggles out now.  Have you seen your mom yet?” she asks Finn.

“Not yet.  Maia said she was checking on Stella?”

His mom swivels on her daughter then, eyebrows raised.  “What’s happening with Stella?”

“She’s fine,” Beth cuts in.  “Just healing up slower than she’d like and refusing to slow down at all to accommodate.”

Kara tuts and shakes her head.  “She’s always done that,” she grumbles.  “You too, Birdy.”  She swats at Maia’s shoulder accusatorially.  “Giving me grays, I swear.”

“Gee Ma,” Maia rolls her eyes.  “I wonder where we picked that up from.”

“I have never—!”

“Let’s not tell lies, love,” Lena hums, coming down the stairs.  “Credit where credit’s due and all that.  Have we got the sweaters sorted out?”

“Almost.”

“Perfect.  Lenore’s set to come over in twenty and Stella’s just washing up, so we should be on track.”

“Hi Mom,” Finn says, perched on the arm of his wife’s chair.

“Hi sweetheart,” Lena responds with a grin.  She hugs him tightly before leaning down to hug Nasrin.  “I thought I heard you all come in.”

“We’re sorry we’re late,” Nasrin apologizes.  “Cyrus’s game ran long and I wanted him to clean up before we headed over.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Lena assures her, squeezing her shoulder.  “We always plan a little wiggle-room into these things.”

“Okay,” Kara interrupts.  “We’ve got an extra sweater.”

Beth looks up from her conversation with Maia and asks, “You’re not double counting the newborns?  One for Tess and one for Finn and Nasrin, right?”

“Maybe the company made a mistake?” Lena suggests as she joins Beth and Maia on the couch, arms open to accept her granddaughter when Beth hands her off.

“Actually,” Maia says quietly.

All eyes turn to her.

“Charlie and I, uh, were going to wait a little longer to tell everyone, but I forgot I’d changed the order,” she says sheepishly.  The back door opens and Maia calls, “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m about to tell them about the thing.”

“Oh!”  Charlie, covered in snow, rushes into the room, grinning wide.  “Really?”

“I forgot I changed the order for the sweaters.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

Kara, resting her arms on the pile of sweaters, extra and all, clears her throat.  “Your news?”

“Right!” Maia laughs.  “You all know that we had already put in the paperwork to adopt again when we got pregnant with Leo,” she explains.  “And, well.  We got a call a few months ago about a match.  We’ve been meeting with her at her foster home for the last several weeks and it’s looking like she’s going to be joining our family pretty soon.”

“What?”  Beth glares at her best friend.  “I’m getting another niece and you haven’t told me?”

“We haven’t really told anyone,” Charlie promises.  “We weren’t sure it was happening.  Josie’s older than Allie was when we adopted her, so we wanted to make sure she had some say in everything.”

“But it’s happening?” Kara asks, starting to tear up.

Maia nods, grinning.  “Yeah, Mama, it’s happening.  She’s coming home with us next week.”

Kara starts crying openly, dropping onto the other side of the couch and hugging her daughter.  Each grandchild’s announcement was met with tears and joy and this arrival would be no different.  Lena, on the other hand, quietly pulls out her phone.

Beth notices the small movement and raised her eyebrows.  “Researching?” she asks jokingly.

“Rescheduling,” Lena whispers back.  She dials before asking Maia, “Do you think she’d be up to meeting everyone then?”

Maia wipes her cheeks and nods.  “She’s been asking about that, actually.  She’s really excited to have a big family.”

“And how would she feel about matching sweaters?”

/

The final product, a sprawling, joyous shot that Kara and Lena frame for their mantle, features all fourteen and a half members of the family.

Nasrin holds the extra newborn sweater in front of her belly, Finn grinning proudly behind her.   Josie, already adored by every member of her newfound family, sits in Lena’s lap, her arm looped through Kara’s.  She took to her grandmothers quickly, but Lena’s memories of her time at the orphanage informed her care and words towards her new granddaughter and earned favor immediately.

Stella’s relegated to the couch with her mothers and Nasrin, a decision she’d protested loudly up until the day of, when she’d collapsed into her seat with a sigh of relief.  Tessa, in her arms, is yawning.  Cyrus managed to avoid his parents’ keen eyes and so Jasper has a pair of bunny ears—Allie sits on Charlie’s shoulders, Leo seated on the arm of the couch, his hand in Maia’s.  Beth’s found gazing down at her wife and daughter, her smile and adoration for them alone at the time.

Small things, little imperfections that Lena, as a child, was taught to hate—they make up the soul of her family.  The pulse, the breath, the things that remind her that this is real, this is the family she and Kara built together.  This is the reality she allowed herself all those years ago when she finally said yes.

[savingpartoftheworld]

Saving Part of the World - Part One - Chapter Thirteen

Summary: Set after G-Rev, the World Championships have come to Belfast, Northern Ireland in the hopes of spreading the interest and drawing in tourists. In between all the teen angst and the team drama, something powerful and hungry lurks on the horizon and with the help of the beybladers, it may just destroy part of the world.

Rated: T for cursing and mild violence

Ships: Hints of Mariah/Rei, Hilary/Tyson, Enrique/Julia

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

“You know, if the weathermen could do their job properly, this kind of thing wouldn’t happen,” Amber ranted, as she and Hilary stood within the entrance to Ormeau Park studying the crowds amassed on the long stretch of freshly mowed grass.

Hilary made a noncommittal sound as she took in the red stone columns and black iron gates, the paint looking like melted tar under the midday sunshine. If she had time, she would come back and take a photo. It really was a lovely entrance, historic and dignified. Unfortunately now wasn’t the time for photos.

“I mean, look at all these people? Shouldn’t they have jobs to do? It’s a weekday, there should be jobs and work to do. In fact, I think I’m in school more than any adult.”

That was doubtful but there were a lot of people in the park, and most of them were exposing vast amounts of angry, scarlet skin. “Are these people being here stopping you from showing me your evidence?”

Amber slumped and pouted. “Well, no. It’s just I don’t see why they need to be here.”

Because the day was beautiful and not everyone wanted to go to the beach, Hilary mused. Considering the rain from her first day in Ireland and the chill in the air the day before, most of the local population probably hadn’t anticipated how warm it would be. She certainly hadn’t, her only concession to the heat had been to remove her jacket and drape it over her shoulders to prevent them from burning.

“And the worst thing is that when I leave school, I’ll probably work 362 days a year with only Paddy’s Day and Christmas off.”

Hilary pursed her lips and continued to let Amber vent as they walked down the tarmac route that circled around the lawn. A few couples strolled under the shadows of trees, while two cyclists rode by, their bells trilling as they navigated around joggers and teens on rollerblades. Overall, it was a fairly familiar scene to Hilary though certainly more conservative than she’d spied in Tokyo and New York.

A breeze blew up and kissed her face offering just the vaguest hint of relief before disappearing, and she just knew her cheeks were cooked. Glowering at Amber’s back she regretted not following Ian’s advice. Granted he’d been beyond rude and yes, she wanted answers, but now she was in a park, far from her friends, with a girl who might just be bordering on crazy.

Playing with the cuff of her sleeve dangling from the knot on her chest, she frowned.  “So where is this place?”

Amber skipped over a remote controlled car and sent two boys a frigid look before she answered, “Well, it’s kind of in the woods of this place but not.”

“The woods.” Right. Because nothing bad ever happened in the woods.

She caught Amber’s eye roll before the girl said, “I’m not going to kill you. You’re taller than me, by a bit, and I have muscles like spaghetti. Besides I need you to hear my story and be on my side. It’s not easy doing all of this on my own and no one likes me.”

Hearing the almost whine in her tone, Hilary frowned. Was Amber lonely? Was this whole set up an attempt to get people to like her? To make friends? “This is serious? You’re not stringing me along so that you can befriend bladers?”

“Gee let me think, end of the world, serious or not serious…” She moved her hands like scales. “Aye, it’s fairly serious and shut up!” Hilary jerked back, only to frown when Amber waved her hand. “Sorry, the Voice has decided it needs to start talking again.”

Hilary grabbed the neck of her blouse and shook it to relieve the prickling sensation around her throat. “I thought the Voice was always there?” If she ended up with heat rash, she’d never live it down.

“It is, it just doesn’t always talk. I like to drown it out with music, plus the earphones act as a disguise of sorts.” Something must have shown on Amber’s face because she quickly added, “I’m not insane, you know. My mother’s a nurse; she’s really big on health, both mental and physical so if she thought I had a serious issue she’d make me talk to someone.”

They turned onto a rougher path that snaked through a densely wooded area with a smattering of boulders and clutches of bluebells. Here people walked slower as they studied and photographed the tall trees. The grass, lit up by the sunshine, turned a brilliant spring green that clashed with the yellowish moss clinging to downed logs almost lost within the long blades. Butterflies fluttered and landed amongst the wild flowers and an insect with a long body hovered just in front of Hilary’s nose. She flicked it away and suppressed a shudder.

There was a burst of noise as a group of boys raced towards them, one carrying a plastic beydish.

“It’ll be Tyson for sure. He’s the world champ!” one said, raising his voice to be heard over the pounding of their footsteps.

“Nuh-uh, it’ll be Kai. He’s far stronger.”

Yet another boy sneered and turned to face the group, jogging backwards. “He doesn’t have a Bitbeast. What the feck is he going to do against Dragoon? I think Tala will win though. It's finally his year.”

As they disappeared around the corner, with the shortest one lagging behind, Amber cast Hilary a suspicious glance. “Is that true? Kai doesn’t have a Bitbeast?”

Hilary scowled. “I’m not going to answer that question. Kai wouldn’t appreciate me telling you anything about him. He’s very suspicious of you and he’s someone you should be wary of.”

Amber’s shoulders hunched as she grumbled, “Don’t need to tell me that.”

Hmm, Hilary mused, Amber and Kai had weighed each other up and found their measure — or whatever that English phrase was.

As they passed a crumbling stone building that probably had some kind of historical importance, Amber veered off the lane and meandered down a grassy verge. They left the public footpath behind. Their feet kicked up more clouds of insects and the air became filled with buzzing and chirping, a sharp cack from a flying bird split the hubbub followed by a long hoarse caw. It all combined to create the illusion that the city was hours away rather than on the other side of the dense tree-line. Probably the reason why this haven was so popular with the locals.  

A long vine caught her foot and Hilary vehemently wished she’d worn different shoes. She should have known better than to put on a pair of strappy sandals but with the sunshine, she’d wanted to feel summery and girly. Now she was going to have blisters and she’d probably lose a shoe. Couldn’t the Voice have taken them along a more pedestrian friendly route?

“Did you ever consider that maybe the voice in your head is actually a Bitbeast?” Because that would explain why it chose such a bizarre route. Bitbeasts may have been revered creatures of legendary power but Hilary was fairly certain they had a wicked sense of humour; after all, they’d been around forever and a day, they had to amuse themselves somehow.  

Amber faltered, almost tripping over a log tangled amongst the lush grass. “It depends on what you think a Bitbeast is. Are they spirits in general or are they solely attached to beyblades?”

Hilary huffed out a breath. “Is that an evasion?”

“No, I’m just saying that if your idea of Bitbeasts are that they’re spirits in general, then sure, the Voice is a Bitbeast, but then so are ghosts by that theory.”

“No, ghosts were human once,” she explained, dabbing at the perspiration that dampened her neck. “They’re departed beings who cannot move on. Bitbeasts are spirits of nature, deities who form a bond with a human and use beyblades to manifest.”

She looked over her shoulder as the park and civilisation seemed to disappear and wild woodland took over. It was almost like stepping into Narnia, or the summer area of it that Aslan had ruled. She just hoped there was a lamppost to help her find her way back. Or worse, would she crest a hill and find an abandoned amusement park leading to Yubaba’s bathhouse? She shivered and inched closer to Amber as she rubbed her arms. She was being silly but there was something not quite natural about the muted sounds of the wood.  

“To what end though? Just to help a child win a trophy? That seems kind of farfetched for something as grand as a deity,” Amber said, swatting at a low flying bug as she trudged down a knoll carpeted with long grass and threaded with yellow flowers.

“Well, maybe that’s the only way they can manifest.” She shrugged off her disquiet and focused on the conversation. She believed in the Bitbeasts, in Dragoon, Draciel, Driger and Dranzer. She felt connected to them, had supported them and yet, she never really understood where they came from. Oh, she knew the tales, how Dragoon had answered Tyson’s prayers and took refuge within his beyblade to help him defeat Kai, but why did Dragoon possess the sword in the first place? Every time she tried asking Tyson he brushed her off with some comment about how she didn't understand anything, which in Tyson speech meant he didn't know either.

“Perhaps,” Amber said, “but the Voice in my head isn’t a Bitbeast. It’s a… it was an entity that was cursed to bond with a bloodline. My granddad had it and when he died it passed to me.”

Hilary’s stomach rolled and she pressed her hand against it. “Well, maybe it is a Bitbeast. Dizzi doesn’t do much more than talk and guide Kenny. I guess when it’s trapped, there’s very little it can do.”

“It’s not a Bitbeast —”

“A Bitbeast sounds better than a voice in your head.”

She caught Amber’s disgruntled look as a trickle of sweat slithered down her spine. The heat was intensifying and with it the growing nausea. Seeking a little relief, she lifted the heavy weight of her hair from the nape of her neck, hoping to tease some air into cooling her skin. At least Amber’s cheeks were glowing pink, a sign that she too felt the effects of the sunshine spearing through the dense green leaves above them. Even in the stretching shadows, the heat was inescapable, clogging her lungs with its suffocating mass.

Chimes whistled as Hilary followed Amber behind a tree and deeper into the darkening forest. It was stunning, a true taste of Ireland, and were she in a better mood, she may have been tempted to take photos.

Instead, as she picked her way through the grass, she frowned. “Is this the normal path? It seems very grown over.”

“No, but it’s fine.”

“Well, maybe we should go the path that’s laid out.” Maybe she was being anal, but people were told not to stray from the correct path for a reason. Look what happened to Chihiro’s parents in Spirited Away or Alice from Wonderland — that child took drugs. Hilary was nearly sure of it even though she found the book very confusing and it hadn’t helped that her English teacher hadn’t seemed to understand it either. As for the animated movie, watching it with Tyson and Kenny hadn’t helped. Not one bit.

Maybe she should go back. The boys were bound to be worried about her.

“We have to go this way,” Amber replied, stepping over a mossy rock.

Rubbing her stomach to ease the fluttering, Hilary paused mid-step. “Amber, I want to go back now.”

Amber tossed back her head, eyes closed, bristling with impatience. “Look, I’m taking you to show you proof. You said you’d come.”

Hilary’s temper flared. She was doing Amber a favour by coming out here into a deserted park. She should have gone with Ian, she really should have just stayed where she was. “Look, I know what I said, but maybe we can come back another day. I want to go. It’s not safe this way.”

“Of course it’s safe. Don’t be daft. I’m not going to do anything to you. That would defy the whole point, I need you on my side.”

“And that means going this way? We’re going into nowhere, it’s not safe and I don’t like it.” Her voice rose shrilly.  

Amber’s mouth opened to shoot back something scathing, then the battle light dimmed. “Oh, I’m such an idiot.”

“Yes, you are. Look, let’s just go back.” Everything would be fine once she could get back to her hotel. Maybe she could persuade Tyson to skip the tournament and they could return to Japan. She liked Japan. She understood her place in that world.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I - I can’t believe I needed the Voice to tell me,” Amber grumbled, rubbing her cheeks with her hands. She lifted her eyes to slowly meet Hilary’s. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting you don’t know the tricks.”

What? What tricks? What was Amber up to now?

Stepping to a tree, Amber pointed to a scored mark in the bark. “See this? This is a rune or something like that. It’s a mark that warns people away, makes them feel uncomfortable, or reminds them that they have somewhere else to be that’s not here. I feel it too, but because I know why I feel it, I can ignore it.”

A mark? A warning? Could that really be why her stomach felt so queasy and slick as if she’d downed a vat of oil from Kenny’s parents’ restaurant?

“Just trust me, and I know that’s a big ask, but once we get on the other side of them, you’ll feel better. We both will.”

Hilary studied Amber dubiously before glancing at the scored marks. The chimes tolled louder and Hilary shivered. This was her point of no return, she realised. If she left she’d return to her safe little world and everything would continue as normal, but she would always wonder about the proof Amber promised to show her.

It would be so easy to turn, to leave. It would be safer to leave. But Hilary didn’t always make the safe decisions. If she had, she wouldn’t be in Belfast with the Bladebreakers.  

Sighing softly, she gestured to Amber. “You lead the way.”

With her own stomach a mass breeding ground for what felt like an infestation of worms, Amber stomped along the broken earth, stepping over protruding roots and around branches trying to sneak across to the other side of the ‘path’. A wasp investigated them before soaring off and butterflies scattered before them.

“It’s getting hotter.”

Hearing Hilary’s soft complaint, Amber jerked a shoulder. “Aye, well that’s something I can’t fix. It shouldn’t really be this warm…” Amber turned her gaze to the sky and frowned. How much of this was a genuine heat wave? How much of this was her country changing, not because of global warming, but because of the disturbance in the Veil?

A branch cracked under her foot and echoed through the woods. She glowered at her traitorous feet — she was no Robin Hood — but in that sudden movement, her ears caught another sound under the buzzing and clicking of insects, gushing water. The river! Mentally cheering because she’d almost reached her destination, she began to follow a narrow, beaten path, probably created by badgers or foxes, down to the river that snuck through the grass.

Amber paused and hunkered down, trailing her fingers through the cool water that gurgled and bubbled around rocks and splashed over stones. “We need to cross this.”

“How?”

“It’s shallower a bit further down, and there are stones, just on the other side of that gorse bush,” she replied, indicating a dark prickly shrub with butter yellow buds that smelled creamy and sweet.

“What are you going to show me?”

“Something to help you believe me?” Amber shrugged, rolling her neck and standing up. She paused a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the gloomy light as they breached the shadows under the lush canopy and rounded the gorse bush.

The water trickled as it snaked under low hanging branches that bowed towards it and stones gleamed wetly in a mimicry of a bridge, stretching across to the other side. A blackbird splashed and shivered in a puddle while flies buzzed around, skimming the surface. Overall it was tranquil, soothing, a little piece of countryside just minutes from the city centre.  

A crack broke the silence from behind them. Holding their breath, both girls stilled and scanned the woods.

“Is someone following us?”

Amber pressed her lips together tightly. She understood Hilary’s paranoia and had to admire the girl for coming with her. Still, it stung.

Why should she trust you? You haven’t been very forthcoming with information. Even now you avoid telling her where you’re going.

Amber shook her head, wishing she could shake the damn voice out. Pushing damp strands of hair from her forehead, she answered Hilary, “No, it was probably a squirrel or a deer. They do things like that.” She looked at the river, then glanced at Hilary. “Okay, do you want to go over first or will I lead you? It’s pretty simple, just step on the rocks and don't slip.”

“I’ll follow you,” Hilary said, folding her arms and hunching her shoulders.

“Grand so.”

Amber approached the edge and hesitated. It would be fine, even if she fell in, she’d dry off fast in the heat. Though knowing her luck the clouds would come and pour with rain and she’d end up lying in a sick bed for the end of the world — some saviour. The jittering in her stomach turned to slick, oily nausea.

She lunged off the bank. Now wasn’t the time to think of all those people who would be gone in a fortnight or so, now was the time to gather allies, amass her army.

Army? Ha.

Shut up.

She continued her journey across with a few hops, skips and wobbles. Landing on one particularly wide, flat stone, she windmilled her arms, then leapt to the other side, her feet sinking into the soft earth. Success.

Spinning she motioned for Hilary to follow. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I can do this,” Hilary replied, more to convince herself as she stepped onto a stone. “Dr B’s Island was much worse.”

“Oh?” Amber asked, hoping to distract the girl as she tentatively crossed the stones.

“Yes, the island began to break apart while we were still on it.”

“Break. Apart,” Amber echoed. As far as she knew, islands didn’t break apart, unless… Did the Bitbeasts cause that as well? Would Ireland break apart?

“It was a few years ago, a crazy scientist wanted the boys’ bitbeasts and the island self-destructed. If it hadn’t been for Kai, I would have died that day. So a little water,” Hilary breathed, as she balanced on one foot on a narrow stone, then leapt to the next one, “doesn’t scare me.”

“Really?” Propping a hand on her hip, Amber waited until Hilary joined her on the bank. “Your life sounds exciting. You’re probably more equipped to deal with this than I am.”

“Perhaps the boys will help us out if they can.”

If there was something to help out with. Amber heard the unspoken threat but brushed it aside. She dug the toe of her battered trainers into the soft clay and began the trek up the gentle rolling slope. Here the trees had spread out, slender trunks stretching up to the cornflower blue sky; the sun colouring the lush grass a rich spring green, while wild rose bushes added a splash of pink and white.

“You do not have bears in this country or lions?”

At Hilary’s tentative question, Amber shook her head. “Nope. No Lions, no Tigers, no Bears, oh my!” At Hilary’s blank look, Amber grimaced. “Lame Dorothy reference.” She pursed her lips and stepping over a moss strewn log, she gestured to the scenery. “Ireland doesn’t have many predatory animals, no snakes or venomous spiders either. We leave all that kind of crazy to the Aussies.”

“Aus - Oh, Australia. You do know other countries have —”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Somewhere to their right, a twig snapped causing Amber to frown in that direction.

Hilary blew out a breath. “Another deer, perhaps? Or a squirrel?”

Well, how was Amber supposed to know? Sounds like that didn’t give her warm, fuzzy safe feelings either, but she refused to be terrified by a squirrel or a deer or even a stray cat. They certainly weren’t being followed by a human because nobody could get past the sigils; they existed to deter trespassers. Besides, daylight surrounded them and the road wasn’t far and -- she checked her phone -- she had a full bar of reception. They were fine until she lost reception; that’s when people started to die in horror movies.

“We’ll be grand.”

Her words didn’t seem to reassure Hilary, who constantly looked over her shoulder as they ascended the slope. The light became brighter, the area greener. The scent of moss and stone lingered under the hot, heady fragrance of roses, creating the illusion of complete isolation. It wasn’t true. She had to remind herself that everything here was an illusion, so she grabbed Hilary’s hand to ground both of them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… don’t want you getting lost or falling. This is getting a bit steep.”

Hilary nodded but didn’t respond, though she kept her hand firmly in Amber’s grip. Up ahead, large objects strewn with greenery and ivy began to emerge: ruins from an old building.

“We’re not going to get in trouble for being here, are we? It’s not private land?”

“No, I told you, the wards dissuade people from coming here. In fact, I’m not even sure this place exists for normal people. It’s not on any map I’ve seen, and unless you’re shown the way, you can’t find it. I know of it because of the Voice in my head. It tells me a lot of weird things and shows me a lot of strange places. I have a shit load of knowledge in my head that I don’t really want or need.” And none of it was any good for schoolwork.

Hilary pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, it’s coming in handy now.”

Amber pulled her damp vest from her back. “I guess. I’m just saying that I know this place is deserted, and you are freaking out because of the wards. It’s what they do.”

“Well someone must have put them there,” Hilary grumbled, glancing around with a mutinous expression. “Where is that person?”

“Considering the wards are mostly in Ogham, that person is probably long dead.” At Hilary’s blank look, Amber sighed. “Ogham writing, it’s a bunch of lines and slants that created letters. Heck, they didn’t even have a full alphabet. You can research it later, let’s just go.”

“I can’t help it, this place creeps me out.”

No kidding.

Poor, lost children.

Shut. Up.

The lush lime green blended into cool teal as the sun retreated behind the trees that inched closer — the two girls weaved between them picking their footsteps carefully. Amber tried to see it as Hilary did, but due to the Voice in her head, all her instincts were off kilter. The voice loved places like this while Amber preferred open fields, most especially the gently sloping patchwork of fields outside of her grandmother’s farm that stretched down to the river Foyle.

To the Voice, this area was home, and it was eerie. The further they moved from the river, the stiller everything became. There was no zipping of renegade flies, no chitter of crickets and no birdsong. Instead, light seemed to come from fluorescent green motes of dust and the only sounds came from the haunting whispers and vacant moans.

More grass was crushed underfoot and Amber rubbed her rapidly chilling skin with one hand while clutching Hilary’s clammy hand in the other. Goosebumps rose along her arms and back, the damp sweat turning to ice.

“Let’s go back,” Hilary urged, pressing a hand to a tree trunk. “I have a bad feeling.”

Amber jerked her head. “No, we’re here.”

Hilary wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t a quiet clearing with thick, verdant grass, sheltered by tall trees so clustered together that they created an almost impenetrable wall. She stepped past Amber, drawn by the play of sunlight gleaming on the blades of grass, the sky open and blue in a circle above them, warming the pale grey standing stones blotched with mossy patches. “It’s like Stone Henge.” Delighted, she rounded on Amber, a grin stretching across her face. “It’s beautiful.”

Oh, she had to get pictures and then she could send them to her parents and school friends. This was the part of Ireland she’d come to see.

“It is, isn’t it?” Amber smiled, but it lacked enthusiasm.

Stepping forward, Hilary brushed her fingers over the rough granite, picking out the pebbled beads of quartz embedded within, like little grains all pressed together until they formed a huge chunk, with each stone placed carefully in a large circle. But it was the tree in the middle that drew her; thick of trunk with stark, naked branches reaching like tentative fingers to the sky. She couldn’t have reached her arms around it if she tried.

Slipping between two stones, she approached the tree, raising a hand to touch, then paused, hovering. Curling her fingers, she glanced back at Amber. “Is it okay if I touch it?”

Amber lingered outside the circle, the sun gleaming on her dark hair. “Yeah, it’s just a tree.”

It wasn’t though, Hilary decided, brushing her own errant strands of hair behind her ear. There was something special about it, tucked away inside the woods, isolated from the others by its stone centurions. She pressed her fingers into the knotted bark and felt the hum of power, or maybe she heard it, a muted sound like a thousand distant murmurs. It was ancient and the pulse from it echoed her heartbeat.

“What is this place?” she finally asked, breaking her connection to the tree.

Amber continued to rub her folded arms, glancing up at the sky before meeting Hilary’s gaze. “A faerie tree. Once upon a time, the little folk would live in the branches or so the fables say. I think it’s more of a gateway now, long sealed.”

“But—” Hilary stepped back and looked up into the branches. They were spindly and a rich dark brown — Tyson’s eyes were the same colour. She flushed at the whimsical thought.

“It’s dead.”

Hilary shook her head vehemently. “It’s not. It’s just dormant.”

With a slight frown puckering her brows, Amber inched forward but didn’t enter the circle. “Do you sense something?”

“It’s…” Hilary sighed. She wasn’t sensitive and yet… “I don’t know much of this stuff, but I just feel there’s a power inside, just waiting.”

Amber’s head bobbed quickly. “There is.”

“And look, there’s a bud on the branch.” A strange coloured bud, more rusty red than green, like the bud of an autumn leaf.

“Hilary come here, please.”

The urgency grabbed Hilary and reeled her in. She hurried to Amber’s side and glanced back at the tree, almost expecting it to twist around with a face upon its trunk, its branches reaching for her. It remained the same, stoic and empty, and yet her heart pounded and her head felt light.

“What just happened?”

“I didn’t realise it was —” Amber fell silent, then stepped into the circle and shuddered. Something rippled over her face and then she leaned back as a shadow pulled away from her body. Dropping to her knees, Amber gasped and violently trembled.

Shaking, Hilary crouched behind her, ready to pull her from the circle.

“Don’t,” Amber sighed, lifting her head, breathing heavily. She pushed her hair out of her face and glared.

Following her gaze, Hilary grabbed a stone to steady herself as her body swayed. There was a woman in the centre of the circle, touching the tree reverently as Hilary had. She was ethereally beautiful: pale, pale skin without even a hint of colour along her sharp cheeks and with lips touched with violet. Her hair was like black satin though as the light hit it, she could see it was more like oil, dark yet shimmering with green and pinks. Her long, sheath dress was silk and gauze and feathers, low cut and tight over full curves that Hilary envied. Whoever this woman was, she was as different from Amber as night and day.

“Amber, is that?”

Amber exhaled softly with a wry smile. “That’s the voice in my head.”